#they were supposed to let me know if they were still interested yesterday

[cybermagusnex]

Call me a medium for how often I get ghosted on important shit.

[rejectedbytheempty]

from the dirt we rise

pairing: farmer!john price x reader, no use of y/n

word count: 2.2k

cw: your boyfriend is an asshole

synopsis: when your car breaks down in the middle of the english countryside, a tall, dark stranger comes to your rescue

next

“christ, going to visit my parents was your idea in the first place, don’t put this on me” your boyfriend lamented, sighing and folding his arms across his chest like a child.

your hands gripped the steering wheel with an audible squeak from the leather along with you gritting your teeth to avoid a number of profanities from slipping out. your boyfriend, nathan, had complained for months that you were never interested in his life, or that you hadn’t seemed as invested in the relationship as he was. never mind the fact that you would plan every date, or that he forgot your birthday and went out with friends instead, leaving you alone at home with a pint of ice cream.

being the good girlfriend you were, you suggested a road trip to go visit his parents, something you supposed you both wanted. you were dead wrong, apparently. the moment you brought it up, he seemed more ambivalent than happy about it and come the day of the trip, he dragged his feet all the way.

so now here you were, driving your car along the english countryside, because his was too nice to drive on all these dirt roads.

“nathan, i was trying to do something nice, for the both of us, and all i asked was that you some snacks for the way.��

he rolled his eyes, huffing with contempt, “yeah. and i did, for me. i figured you were getting your own stuff.”

you looked up to the roof of the car, muttering a silent prayer to whatever gods could hear. “fine, it’s fine. i don’t even care anymore, i.. i guess i should have clarified, i’m sorry.”

he just muttered some incoherent complaints and looked out the window. you sighed slightly and took the silence to allow yourself to admire the countryside rolling by in peace. the hills covered in lush, green grass, cows dotting the landscape. you could almost imagine living here, waking up to the sound of birds chirping for once instead of someone shouting bloody murder outside your flat’s window.

you smiled softly at the idea of walking outside onto the dewy lawn with your bare feet and not having to worry about some junkie leaving behind a used syringe. the daydream was interrupted by your boyfriend shouting your name. the front of the car had started smoking, plumes of grey billowing out from under the hood.

“shit!” you cried out, braking suddenly and jolting the two of you slightly in your seats.

“the hell is wrong with your car?” nathan asked, looking over at you with a glare.

“i- i don’t know. it was perfectly fine yesterday and i took it to the shops a couple of months ago for a checkup. do you mind checking under the hood?” you looked over at him.

he looked slightly taken aback at that, “me? i don’t know about cars, besides, it’s not my car that’s gone and killed itself. why don’t you go check?”

you supposed you couldn’t argue with his logic, it was your car after all, but you still scowled slightly as you put the car in park and popped the hood. you opened the door and stepped out, looking at nathan in the passenger seat, who took about .5 seconds of worrying before looking at his phone again.

you let out a frustrated grunt and stomped over to the front of the car, pulling up the hood. the smoke immediately rose up to meet your face and you waved it away, coughing and grimacing. after a moment of wafting away the smoke, you were finally able to look over your engine and.. all of that other stuff.

yeah, you knew nothing about cars.

you thought that maybe talking a look under the hood would automatically make you a mechanic, but apparently that’s not true. pulling out your phone, you tried to look up on google something along the lines of “my car is smoking. what do i do?” but you had not a singular bar.

groaning slightly, you shut your phone off and began to shut the hood and give up when you heard the crunch of gravel behind you. turning to look, you saw a beat-up old truck heading your way, stopping at the edge of the grass where you had pulled off the road.

you looked between the truck and your car where your boyfriend sat in the front seat, not even looking up from his phone, probably too busy playing clash of clans or some dumb shit like that.

what if whoever was in the truck was a serial killer or something and your boyfriend was too busy playing subway surfers to even notice you getting kidnapped?

you swallowed nervously as the door of the truck swung open with a loud squeak. out stepped a man that made you swallow for an entirely different reason.

he had dark brown hair and a thick, well-maintained beard. his bright blue eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled warmly at you, something so easy about the way he smiled that had your knees buckling. and if they did, then he could easily catch you with his arms, tanned and muscular, the arms of a man who spent his life working in some kind of physical labor.

“engine trouble?” he asked, his voice a deep, rumbling thing that made your brain go fuzzy.

“oh.. uh, yeah, maybe? i don’t know for sure. the car just started smoking so i pulled over to look at it” you said, finding it hard to talk with your mouth having gone dry. the sound of a car door opening and the sight of your boyfriend stepping out made your face fall slightly.

you have a boyfriend, right. almost forgot because you were too busy imagining those arms wrapped around- nathan speaking broke you out of your thoughts.

“who are you?” he asked, in a tone that made you wince. looking over at the stranger though, it didn’t even seem like he flinched at nathan puffing up his feathers.

“i’m john, nice to meet you,” john put out his hand for nathan to take. which he did, hesitantly, grimacing slightly at the force john used.

“right, i’m nathan.” he eyes flicked over to you, “not gonna introduce your bird?”

your cheeks flushed, “oh, uh, yeah” you stuttered uselessly before telling him your name.

“beautiful name for a beautiful girl” he winked at you. your mouth fell agape slightly and nathan inhaled a sharp breath, “what do you want, man? we got this handled.” when john’s eyes flicked back to nathan they hardened ever so slightly, even though he still sported a grin on his face.

“just thought i’d offer my help, i mean, it doesn’t seem like you know what you’re doing if you’re making your girl do all the work.”

at that, nathan’s face contorted with rage and he took a step towards john, whose grin only widened at that. after a second to process what happened, you immediately stepped in front of nathan, pressing your hands to his chest, “babe, stop. he’s- he’s just joking, right?” you looked pointedly to john, waiting for him to back you up. you knew it would only end badly if nathan wasn’t calmed down, not because nathan was going to hurt the stranger but because you definitely knew nathan wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

glancing between you and your boyfriend, john relented, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to offend you. i was just joking.” looking back to nathan, you noticed his nostrils flare slightly in discontent but he backed down.

“yeah, well, don’t do it again,” nathan huffed. you relaxed slightly, letting your hands slip down from his chest to by your sides again.

“look, i’ll make it up to you. i can tow your car to the nearest mechanic. i happen to know the guy and he can give you a friends and family discount” john said, eyes glancing between you and your boyfriend.

nathan eyed him suspiciously for a second but then nodded, “alright, fine.” john then looked to you and it took a moment before you realized he was waiting for your input. “oh! i didn’t realize you were asking me too. yes, of course, thank you, that’d be wonderful” you said hurriedly. nathan shot you a dirty look when john turned around to go grab some equipment from his truck.

“what the hell was that?” he hissed. “was what?” you asked, even though you knew exactly what he meant. “you, practically starry-eyed, looking at him. acting as if your boyfriend wasn’t standing right there” he glared at you. “i.. i wasn’t starry-eyed” you said softly, it was a weak defense but you couldn’t help but think he was right. a random man off the road looks at you for more than five seconds and you’re already on your back with your belly up for scratches. “whatever, we can talk about this after the car gets fixed.”

after john secured the straps between the cars he admitted that he only had so much seat space in his truck and that one person was going to have to stay in your car for the ride there. suffice to say, nathan wasn’t happy about that.

“can’t we both sit in the car?” he practically whined.

john shrugged, “i guess so, but there’s no use in adding any more weight to the amount i’m towing, takes unnecessary risk, right?”

nathan’s lip twitched in annoyance but he couldn’t really find a reason to argue with him, “fine, i’ll sit in the truck with you.”

john looked amused at that, “making your girl sit in the car all by herself? it’s really none of my business but-“”fine! she can sit up front with you, then. jesus,” nathan said, throwing up his arms and practically stomping his way over to the car.

you winced as he slammed the car door shut and looked apologetically over at john,

“sorry, he’s just.. stressed.” he exhaled sharply through his nose, “stressed, right.”

you bit the inside of your cheek at john’s obvious lack of belief but said nothing else to persuade him, it wouldn’t do any good. the truck door squeaked open as john opened the passenger side for you, gesturing with his other hand, “in you get, sweetheart.”

you blushed slightly at his casual use of pet names, muttering a small thank you as you got in. john shut the door and then got in on his side, sliding across the worn leather bench, his warm thighs practically pressing against yours. he wasn’t lying, the seating in here was limited and you couldn’t imagine what it would have been like if nathan had tried to ride up here with the two of you.

you’re honestly surprised he didn’t. something about john made you want to listen to him, and you could guess that even though nathan was stubborn, he subconsciously felt the same way.

“so, where were you headed? doesn’t seem like you’re from around here” he broke the silence.

“oh, uh, nathan’s parents’ house, he hasn’t seen them in a while, and we figured it was time for me to meet them since we’re coming up on our third anniversary,” you said, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“ah, the in-laws” he chuckled lightly.

“oh, me and nathan we’re not- i mean, we’re just dating right now. not engaged or anything.”

“three years and he hasn’t put a ring on that pretty finger? hm.” john frowned.

“nathan wants to take it slow. he doesn’t want to rush into anything,” you said, but it felt more like an automated response than something you actually agreed with. sure, there was nothing wrong with taking your time but anytime you brought up marriage or anything like that, nathan would get all defensive. it happened enough that you just stopped bringing it up altogether, and you hadn’t realized until now how much that had hurt you.

“sorry, i overstepped, didnt’t i? laswell’s always telling me i need to stop interrogating people, but old habits die hard.”

“you were in the military, then?” in hindsight you should have guessed something like that, from the way he stood with perfect posture or how he spoke from a place of authority, was likely an officer of some kind.

“yes ma’am, special forces. i served my time, but now i’m retired and trying to put it all behind me.”

you nodded along, “but old habits die hard” you said the words he left hanging in the air.

“exactly” he smiled over at you, making you melt into the seat.

collecting yourself, you cleared your throat then asked, “so what do you do now?”

“ah, inherited a bit of land from my grandad on my mum’s side. decided that when i retired, i would move to the countryside and start a farm.”

you laughed to yourself imagining him chasing around an escaped chicken but quickly stifled it behind your hand. he furrowed his eyebrows but looked at you more quizzically than the scalding expression nathan would have given you,

“and what’s so funny about that, miss?”

you shook your head, “nothing, really. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to laugh at you.”

“no need to apologize, i like seeing you laugh” he said, something that slipped so casually from his lips it almost startled you.

“thank you” you murmured, looking out the window to hide your flushed cheeks. just in time to save your embarrassment, john slowed the truck to a stop outside a small mechanic shop that read ‘tav and riley repairs.’

a/n: this was so fun to write actually. idek what started this whole thing but i actually typed all of it in my notes app 😭 so sorry for possible errors and also lack of capitalization. i am a certified american writer so sorry if i get something wrong :(

but anyways, lmk if you guys want more of this or if this should be a dark fic or smth more wholesome and fluffy bc i could go either way 😈

[mythicalmaven]

Untamed Desires | Lando Norris

This is a sequel to Secret Desires(pt.1) & Revealed Desires(pt.2) -But it could technically also be read seperately-

Masterlist

So, I decided to make a part three, since a few of you asked for another sequel! :) Hope you all like it & let me know if you want another part, because if enough people want that, I can make work of that :)

↳pairing: Lando Norris x f!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 4,7K ↳summary: In which the story continues after the reader (Max Verstappen's twin sister) had a rather spicy text exchange with Lando, leading two them tangled up in the sheets, unfolding into an interesting morning in her bed. Followed by an awkward , yet hilarious encounter with Max (I wrote the interaction between the reader and Max in English. I know they're supposed to talk Dutch with each other, but it was too much of a hassle to write everything in Dutch & then put the English translation behind it lol. So that's why) ↳content warnings: reader is Max Verstappen's twin sister, Lando is her best friend, but also more, friends to lovers, sexual tension, kissing, dirty talk, smut, 18+ content (MDNI!), explicit sexual content, handjob, blowjob, p in v, making love, praise kink.

The soft glow of the morning sun started to peek through the curtains of your Monaco apartment. The apartment you shared with your twin, Max. You stirred awake, a gentle warmth wrapping around you, and it took only a second to recognize the familiar touch—it was Lando. You looked down at yourself and saw you were wearing nothing but Lando's shirt from the day before. The memories of yesterday came rushing back, a small smile creeping onto your lips as you felt the steady rhythm of his breathing against your neck, his breath gently tickling the shell of your ear. He stirred, pulling you even closer into him.

“Good morning, love,” he whispered, his voice still thick with sleep as he pressed a tender kiss into your hair.

You turned in his embrace to face him, his arms instinctively tightening around you as his hand moved up to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You smiled at him, warmth flooding your chest. “Hi,” you murmured, the butterflies that had fluttered in your stomach yesterday still very much alive, if not more so now.

Lando’s gaze flickered to your lips before returning to your eyes—the eyes he could get lost in forever. His heart skipped a beat, nervousness creeping into his expression. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice hesitant, like he feared you’d regret what had happened yesterday.

A soft giggle escaped you, rolling your eyes playfully. “Of course you can kiss me, sukkel,” (idiot) you teased, using the affectionate insult, “I thought I made that clear yesterday.”

He let out a relieved breath, resting his forehead gently against yours. “Just wanted to make sure you’re still feeling that way,” he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. “I didn’t want to cross a line... just in case.”

An idea sparked in your mind, and a cheeky grin spread across your face. Slowly, you trailed your hand up his chest, your fingers brushing lightly over his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps as they ventured down to his lower abdomen. You paused there, feeling his breath catch in his throat at your touch.

Lando’s lips twitched into a knowing smile when he saw the mischievous look in your eyes. “What are you planning?” he asked, his voice low and playful.

Without answering, you pushed lightly against his abdomen, flipping him onto his back with a confident smirk. You moved gracefully, straddling him, your hips settling over his. You leaned down until your lips hovered dangerously close to his, barely an inch separating them. “Showing you just how much I don’t regret yesterday,” you whispered, your breath warm against his mouth.

Lando’s eyes darkened with desire, and before either of you could say another word, your lips met in a slow, tender kiss. His hands came up to cradle your face, holding you close as his lips moved against yours with an almost unbearable softness, as though he was savoring every second, every sensation. His thumb caressed your cheek, and you felt the heat of his touch seeping into your skin, making your heart pound in your chest.

The kiss deepened, but it remained slow, deliberate. You could feel Lando’s love in every movement of his lips, in the way his hands began to roam, one slipping down to your waist, the other tangling gently in your hair. His fingers threaded through the strands, and the tender pull made you sigh softly against his mouth. You felt him sitting up, pulling your body even closer to his, you still straddled on his hips. Lando's lips parted slightly, and you felt the soft glide of his tongue against yours, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming. The taste of him, the way his tongue explored you with gentle strokes, sent shivers down your spine.

Your hands weren’t idle either. You traced the outline of his jaw, letting your fingers travel down the curve of his neck and across his shoulders, feeling the strength beneath your touch. You pressed closer, feeling his chest rise and fall with each deep breath he took. Your hands traveled lower, caressing his sides before resting on his hips. Lando groaned softly into the kiss, the sound vibrating between your lips as his fingers tightened their grip on your waist.

Time seemed to slow down as the kiss stretched on, building in intensity but never losing its tenderness. Lando’s hands moved restlessly, like he couldn’t get enough of you. He pulled you closer, his grip on your waist firm as if he needed you nearer. His other hand, still tangled in your hair, gave a gentle tug, tipping your head back slightly so he could kiss you deeper. You felt yourself melting into him, lost in the slow, sensual rhythm of his mouth moving against yours, in the feel of his hands on your body.

The passion between you grew, and with it, Lando’s control began to slip. His kisses became a little more desperate, his hands more insistent as they roamed over your hips and down to your thighs, squeezing gently before moving up to your waist again. You could feel his need, the way his body responded to yours, and it made heat pool low in your belly.

As you shifted slightly on top of him, you felt something hard pressing against you, and you couldn’t help but grin against his lips. Lando groaned, his head falling back slightly as he bit his lip, embarrassed by his body’s reaction.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, breathless, his face flushed.

Your grin only widened. “Don’t be,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing as you ground your hips down slightly against him, feeling the way his body tensed beneath you. The friction between you only fueled the fire building between you, the kiss becoming even more heated as Lando’s hands gripped your hips tighter.

The sexual tension between you skyrocketed, the air thick with desire. You could feel Lando’s heart racing, matching the wild rhythm of your own, and the way his body responded to every little movement of yours sent a wave of electricity through you. But despite the growing heat, the kiss remained filled with the same tenderness, the same love, making the moment all the more intense.

Lando pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours as he gazed into your eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and filled with adoration.

A teasing smile played on your lips as you bit down gently, eyes locked with Lando’s, your fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down his chest. Without breaking eye contact, you gave him a gentle but firm push, guiding him onto his back once again. His breath hitched, anticipation crackling in the air between you.

You lowered yourself, your lips brushing softly over the curve of his neck, leaving a trail of delicate kisses that sent shivers through his entire body. Lando sucked in a sharp breath, his pulse quickening as your hand traveled down, pressing firmly against his chest for balance. The intimacy of your touch was electrifying. Every small, purposeful movement of yours had his heart racing, but there was something more—a nervous excitement that swirled through him, making his breath stutter.

Though you had shared this closeness the night before, it still felt new, raw, and it was enough to leave Lando slightly vulnerable beneath you. His hands twitched by his sides, unsure whether to grasp the sheets or pull you closer. That same nervous energy made him even more aware of every inch of his skin that was under your touch.

“You know… yesterday,” you murmured softly against his neck, your voice a sultry whisper that sent another wave of shivers down his spine. “You made me feel incredible, Lando. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

A soft moan escaped his lips, but he tried to hide it behind a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering closed as your hand drifted lower. “I—” Lando stammered, but the words died in his throat as your lips trailed down to his collarbone, and then lower, over his chest, pressing soft kisses against his warm skin.

“I loved every second of it,” you continued, your words making his heart pound faster, your lips brushing against him with each syllable. “You made me feel things I didn’t know were possible. Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

Lando’s breath hitched again, and he let out a quiet, almost desperate groan as your hand finally made its way to the waistband of his boxers, palming him through the thin fabric. His hips involuntarily lifted at your touch, a needy sound escaping his lips that he couldn’t suppress. The pressure of your hand sent jolts of pleasure coursing through him, his body reacting immediately to your slow, teasing touch.

“God, you’re—” His voice faltered, his head falling back into the pillow as he exhaled shakily. His fingers clenched the sheets beneath him, the tension in his body building as your hand moved over him, still with that maddeningly gentle pace.

You felt him twitch beneath your touch, the thin material of his boxers doing little to hide how much he wanted you. Your gaze traveled down his body, and you smirked at the sight of him beneath you, utterly at your mercy. You pressed another kiss, this time just above the waistband of his boxers, and he groaned again, his hips lifting in response.

“Do you want me to touch you?” you whispered against his skin, your lips lingering against his abdomen, feeling the way his muscles tightened under your touch. “Tell me, Lan”

Lando’s breath was shaky, but he couldn’t hold back anymore. “Yes.. I want… I want you, love. Please,” he managed, his voice barely more than a breathless plea. His heart raced in his chest, every nerve on fire as your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, teasing him.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, locking eyes as you hooked your fingers around the waistband. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the playful glint in your eyes, the way your lips curled into that teasing smile of yours. Lando’s mind raced, anticipation and excitement swirling together as you pressed a soft kiss just above the fabric, your fingers tugging slightly.

Lando lifted his hips eagerly, his body trembling under your touch, helping you slide his boxers down. His breathing was labored, chest rising and falling as his heart pounded with nervous excitement. Even after everything that had happened yesterday, there was something about the way you touched him now, the slow teasing pace you were setting, that had his body buzzing with anticipation, leaving him on edge.

You didn’t rush��your hands moved deliberately, almost reverently, exploring every inch of him as though you were memorizing every detail. Lando’s voice was raw as he praised you between soft moans, his hands tangling in the sheets, helpless under your touch.

Gently, your took him in your hand, your fingers wrapping around him, stroking him slowly, teasingly. Lando’s breath caught again, his entire body responding to you in ways he couldn’t control.

“God… you’re incredible,” Lando breathed, his voice shaky. He felt like he was losing control, his nerves on fire with every soft stroke of your fingers. “Please… don’t stop.”

You chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against his skin as your lips moved lower. “I’m not planning on stopping anytime soon,” you purred.

He let out another moan, louder this time, his hips bucking up into your hand. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice breaking with need. His fingers finally reached out, tangling in your hair, desperate for more, desperate for you.

Your touch grew firmer, more assured, and Lando couldn’t hold back the sounds that spilled from his lips. “Yes… just like that,” he panted, his head falling back against the pillow. “You’re… perfect.”

You smiled at his praise, feeling the power you had over him. Leaning down, you let your lips follow the path your hand had taken, placing a series of slow, sensual kisses along his length. Lando’s breath hitched, and he let out a deep, throaty moan as your tongue flicked against him, his entire body tensing under the overwhelming pleasure.

“Oh God, yes,” Lando gasped, his hand tightening in your hair. He was so vocal, every sound that escaped him only driving you to tease him more. “Please… please don’t stop.”

His hips lifted again, begging for more contact, but you kept your pace slow, wanting to savor every moment, every reaction. “You like that?” you asked softly, your lips brushing against him.

“Fuck… yes, yes, I do,” Lando stammered, his voice shaky with desire. “You’re… you’re driving me crazy.”

You smirked at his words, loving how undone he was beneath you. “Good,” you murmured.

You continued to kiss and tease him, taking your time, building the tension higher and higher until the room was filled with nothing but the sound of his labored breathing and the soft moans that fell from his lips. The more vocal he became, the more you wanted to push him to the edge, and you could feel the tension rising between you both, thick with desire.

Just when you sensed Lando was about to unravel beneath you, you lifted your lips from him, your breath warm against his skin as you kissed your way back up his trembling body. Your lips brushed along his chest, up to his neck, before you paused at his ear, your voice low, dripping with seduction. “I want you inside me, Lando,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips like a promise, your tone sending a shiver down his spine.

“Fucking hell…” Lando’s voice came out in a shaky breath, a groan immediately following as he tried to steady himself. His eyes fluttered open, gazing up at you, and the sight had him nearly undone all over again. You were straddling him, still wearing his shirt from the day before. The way it hung loosely on your frame, the fabric just barely grazing your thighs, drove him wild. It was such a simple thing, but on you? It was the sexiest sight he’d ever seen.

Before he could fully process your words, he noticed you shifting, adjusting your hips. His mind raced, realizing too late what you were about to do. And before he could even react, you sank down on him, the sudden, overwhelming sensation making a loud moan tear from your throat.

“Fuck… baby..” he stuttered out, his hands immediately gripping your thighs as he tried to catch his breath. “That was… a surprise, thought I had to undress you first” His voice was thick with a mix of awe and desire, his eyes wide as he looked up at you, clearly blown away by your boldness.

A mischievous grin spread across your lips, a soft laugh escaping as you shifted your hips teasingly, savoring the way his body responded to yours. “I like to keep you on your toes,” you teased, your voice sultry as you rocked your hips just enough to make him groan again. “You like it?”

“Like it?” Lando barely managed to get the words out, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his hands roamed up your thighs, gripping you tightly. “I fucking love it.”

You could see the way his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with desire as he tried to hold on, his control slipping with every movement you made. The tension between you was electric, his hands gliding up your thighs to your waist, his fingers brushing over the fabric of his shirt that still hung loosely around you. He couldn’t take it anymore. With a shaky breath, he reached for the hem of the shirt, lifting it slowly, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours. “I want to see you,” he breathed, his voice low and filled with need.

You lifted your arms, allowing him to pull the shirt over your head, revealing your bare skin beneath. The way his eyes roamed over you, the hunger in his gaze, sent a thrill through you. His hands moved up to cup your breasts gently, his touch soft, almost reverent as his thumbs brushed over your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky as he leaned up to kiss you. His lips were soft, gentle, as though he was trying to convey everything he felt for you in that single touch. His hands never left your body, caressing you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. “So perfect, baby,” he whispered between kisses, his lips trailing down your neck and over your collarbone.

You moaned at his touch, your hips starting to move again, grinding down slowly against him. The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, the pleasure building with each movement, and you couldn’t hold back the sounds that escaped your lips. “Lando… you feel so good,” you whispered breathlessly, your hands sliding over his chest, nails lightly grazing his skin.

Lando’s breath hitched at your words, the way you moaned his name driving him wild. “Keep talking to me, love,” he groaned, his hands moving to grip your waist as you rocked against him, his eyes fluttering shut as he struggled to hold on. “You have no idea what it does to me when you’re like this… so perfect.”

You leaned down, your lips hovering just above his as you whispered, “You make me feel incredible, Lando. Yesterday, today… I’ve never felt like this before.” The words spilled from you with ease, knowing exactly how much it affected him. And it did. You could feel his body tremble beneath you, his grip on your waist tightening as a deep groan escaped his lips.

“Fuck… don’t stop,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire as he looked up at you, completely lost in the moment. His hands roamed your body, gliding up to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin again. “I love seeing you like this… loving this.”

Your body responded eagerly to his touch, your movements becoming more deliberate as you rolled your hips, taking your time, savoring every second. Lando’s breath came in short gasps, his hands shaking slightly as he tried to keep his composure, but you could see how close he was to losing control.

“You’re mine,” he breathed out suddenly, his voice rough with emotion as his hands gripped your hips possessively. “You’re all mine… I don’t ever want to let you go.”

The intensity in his words, the raw emotion, made your heart race. “I’m yours,” you whispered back, your voice filled with just as much need. “All yours.”

Your words seemed to ignite something in him. Lando’s hands moved to your hips, guiding you as you rode him, his eyes never leaving yours, the intensity between you growing with every movement. The praise flowed from both of you freely, each touch, each breath, building the pleasure higher.

“Oh God, you feel so good,” you moaned, your head falling back as you moved faster, feeling the pleasure build within you.

“You’re perfect,” Lando gasped, his voice cracking with the strain of holding on. “So fucking perfect… keep going, baby, please.”

You could feel the tension between you rising, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable height. Lando’s hands moved up to your waist, pulling you closer, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to hold on. “I’m so close, baby,” he stammered, his voice hoarse, his body trembling beneath you.

The praise, the way his hands moved over your body, only spurred you on, making you push both of you closer to the edge. His fingers found their way back to your breasts, squeezing gently as he murmured more praise, telling you how incredible you were, how much he loved watching you like this, how he couldn’t get enough of you.

The buildup was slow and torturous, both of you savoring every second, the connection between you deepening with every touch, every moan. The way he praised you, the way he told you how much he adored you, left you feeling breathless, the pleasure mounting with every movement.

The heat between you and Lando built to an overwhelming crescendo, your bodies moving in perfect sync as the tension finally snapped. You moaned loudly as your climax washed over you, gripping onto his shoulders for support as wave after wave of pleasure surged through your body. Lando followed right behind, his hands gripping your waist tightly, his eyes closing as he let out a deep, guttural groan. You could feel him pulsing inside you, his body trembling beneath yours as he fell apart, lost in the sensation of the moment.

Both of you were left breathless, chests heaving as you collapsed against him, your foreheads resting together. Lando’s arms wrapped around you protectively, holding you close as you both tried to catch your breath. The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, and you could feel his heart pounding wildly against your chest.

For a few moments, neither of you said anything, simply enjoying the closeness, the shared warmth. Lando’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his touch tender and loving. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there as he whispered, “God, you’re amazing.”

You smiled softly, still trying to steady your breathing, your body buzzing from the aftershocks of pleasure. “You’re not too bad yourself,” you teased lightly, brushing your fingers through his damp hair.

He let out a soft chuckle, his chest still rising and falling with each breath. “I’m serious,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression filled with adoration. “You’re incredible, love. I’m so lucky.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, warmth spreading through your chest as you leaned in to kiss him again, this time soft and slow, filled with affection. “What a coincidence, I feel pretty lucky too,” you whispered against his lips in a joking tone, before pulling back slightly, your thumb brushing over his cheek.

A comfortable silence settled between you, filled with the unspoken understanding of just how much this moment meant. But after a while, you broke the quiet, the corners of your lips lifting into a playful smile. “I’m going to grab us something to drink. We could use it after… that.”

Lando grinned lazily, his fingers trailing down your spine as he nodded. “Sounds good to me,” he replied, his voice still a bit hoarse from all the moaning.

You carefully lifted yourself off of him, and he let out a soft sigh, watching as you reached for your discarded underwear. Slipping them on, you grabbed his shirt from the bed. Even though you had slept the whole night in the shirt, it still smelled like him, the familiar scent comforting as you pulled it over your head. The hem brushed halfway down your thighs, covering just enough to look decent, though it was obvious it wasn’t yours.

Lando’s eyes followed your movements, a soft smile on his face as he watched you get dressed. “You look better in my shirt than I do,” he said, his voice playful but full of admiration.

You flashed him a grin, grabbing his chin for a quick kiss before heading toward the door. “I’ll be right back,” you promised, feeling a little light on your feet as you made your way to the kitchen.

As you rounded the corner, your thoughts still filled with the warmth of the morning, you suddenly froze in your tracks. There, sitting at the kitchen island with a coffee in hand, was Max. His gaze lifted from his cup the moment he saw you, and a slow, knowing smirk spread across his face.

“Morning,” he said, his tone casual but dripping with amusement.

Your heart dropped, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you realized what you looked like—wearing nothing but your underwear and Lando’s shirt, your hair a mess, cheeks still flushed from what you’d just been doing.

Max raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his coffee, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “You know,” he began, his voice full of mockery, “next time you decide to screw around in the apartment, maybe remember it’s not just your apartment.” he stated, pointing at all the clothes that were scattered around the living room.

Your face went beet red as you stammered, “I—uh—I thought you wouldn’t be home until this morning.”

Max let out a low, sarcastic laugh. “It is the morning, sis,” he pointed out, gesturing toward the clock. “But I guess you didn’t realize that since you were too busy… fucking around with Lando.” He shot you a teasing look, his eyes flicking to the scattered clothes lying around the living room, confirming his suspicions.

You groaned internally, face flushing even more as you tried to defend yourself. “What? Why would you think it was Lando?” you blurted out, attempting to sound innocent, though it was clear Max wasn’t buying it.

Max rolled his eyes, pointing to the shirt you were wearing, the unmistakable Quadrant logo visible on the shirt. “First of all, you’re wearing his shirt,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And second, I’m not stupid. I’ve already heard too much from Charles and Lando to know what’s going on between you two.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, Charles and Lando… talked about it?”

Max shrugged, smirking. “You know how Charles is, he couldn’t help but tease Lando about the whole drunk ordeal. And Lando isn’t exactly subtle. Trust me, it wasn’t hard to figure out.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands as you muttered, “Oh God, this is so embarrassing.”

Max chuckled, setting his coffee down. “Hey, relax,” he said, his tone softening. “I’m not mad about it or anything. Honestly, I’m happy for you… as long as he treats you right.”

You lifted your head, blinking at him in surprise. “You’re… okay with it?”

Max nodded, giving you a genuine smile. “Yeah, of course. But if he hurts you, I’ll kill him. Simple as that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, feeling a little more at ease now. “Thanks, Max,” you said softly, appreciating his protective nature, even if it came with some teasing.

Before you could say anything else, you heard footsteps behind you, and you turned just in time to see Lando walking into the kitchen. He was wearing his jeans, but no shirt, since you were currently wearing it. His eyes widened in surprise when he spotted Max at the counter, his gaze shifting awkwardly between the two of you.

“Oh,” Lando said, scratching the back of his head as he stood there, clearly caught off guard.

Max looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. “Morning, Lando,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

Lando swallowed, trying to keep his cool. “Morning… mate,” he replied, glancing nervously at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the awkwardness of the situation, shaking your head. “It’s fine,” you assured Lando, walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Max knows. I mean, clearly.”

Lando let out a breath of relief, though he still looked a little flustered. “Right… well, uh, do you need help with those drinks?” he asked, quickly changing the subject.

Max snorted into his coffee, shaking his head in amusement. “Don’t worry, Lando. I've already had my fun with mocking her. You two can carry on with your breakfast,” he said, making air quotes around the word.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “Thanks, Max,” you said sarcastically. “I hate you.”

Max gave you a wink, his smirk never fading. “Anytime, sis. Just… next time, maybe be a bit quieter. I don’t need to hear you two going at it all over the apartment.”

Lando went beet red, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, leaning into him as you both tried to recover from the awkward encounter.

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺ ⋆⁺

masterlist

[felinecyan]

Trust Issues

[Katsuki Bakugo x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Some friendly advice: don’t ever go to the rival of your spar partner for help.

WC: 4893

Category: Fluff, Slight Angst,

This blog is a MHA fan page at this point HAHAHA

But since you guys REALLY liked the first oneshot of him, I felt inclined to write another one. So, here you go! 💞

『••✎••』

You didn’t think it would come to this.

In all honesty, you had never intended to hurt your friend.

All you had wanted was a fair fight. After all, that was why you were training, wasn't it?

So you could become a hero?

Now, granted, it was not a secret that Izuku Midoriya had always been on the… opposing end of Katsuki Bakugo's wrath ever since childhood. The boy was a spitfire; you had known that from the moment he had first stepped into class.

The Sports Festival only proved it. He was strong, powerful, and unafraid to let anyone who stood in his way know. It was that sort of determination that you had hoped to one day achieve, the will to succeed and not allow anything to hold you back.

It wasn't that you were star-struck or even jealous when he had been crowned first place at the festival. It was just inspiring, in a sense. He had fought tooth and nail to win, and in the end, he had come out on top.

However, his victory did not mean he could rest easy.

After the Sports Festival, Bakugo had taken a sort of… interest in you. You supposed he liked the way he fought against you, or maybe it was because he saw potential in you as a rival, but when class was over the next day, and the blonde had approached you, telling you to meet him out back, you were overjoyed.

Until he started to beat the ever-living crap out of you, that is.

And he still was, even now.

Every time you believe to be gaining more and more strength, he only proves to have become stronger. It was quite disheartening, actually.

Still, you did your best to keep up with him. It was no surprise to you, though, that he was better at you in almost everything.

That's why it seemed like a great idea for you to start sparring with Deku, right? Maybe the green-haired could teach you a few things and help you gain a bit of an advantage over the hothead.

But, as pure intentions would have it, the choice you made that day had landed you here.

You were at your locker, picking up books for Aizawa’s lesson when a hand rested atop the door of your locker. He didn’t close it, only using it as a resting place for his arm, so you didn't immediately look up to see him, instead pretending that you hadn't noticed him.

"Hey,"

Not a voice you were familiar with. You glanced around the area before looking over at the source—a tall boy with short black hair and dark brown eyes.

You blinked a couple of times. "Hi…?"

He flashed a grin and leaned a bit closer to you, his voice dropping low. "Nice weather we're having, don't you think?"

"Uhm… sure, I guess." The confusion was obvious on your face, and he laughed at your expression. "It's nice, yeah."

"Well, the weather seems a lot nicer on the roof, I think." His words were slow, and his smile was growing a bit too much for you to be comfortable with. "I could take you there, show you the view. What do you—"

He was caught off by the large hand that suddenly slammed down on the top of your locker, shutting it. You were about to tell the person that the door had hit your head when you looked up at those glaring crimson eyes and felt your stomach drop.

Katsuki Bakugo.

"Hey, what the hell?!" The boy exclaimed. "What's the big deal?!"

Bakugo didn't seem to acknowledge the other, simply glaring down at you only. You were frozen in place. You had never seen the boy this angry, not even at the USJ attack.

"You." His voice was quiet, unnervingly calm, but the undertone was filled with enough venom to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. "You lied."

"Uh—" You began but were cut off.

"You told me you had to bail yesterday. That you had homework to do." He was staring right through you, and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine.

You swallowed, and his eyes flickered to your throat for a split second. "I did, though."

"You didn't," He hissed, teeth gritting together. "You were with him."

"With who—"

You had no chance to react before he slammed his fist against the lockers again, right beside your face, and the boy who had been trying to talk to you only watched as you were cornered.

"Don't lie to me, damnit!" He was snarling, eyes alight with fury. His hand moved from the lockers and back to his side. "You were with that shitty nerd. Don't you fucking deny it."

"I—" You tried, but your voice was shaking, and he interrupted you before you could say anything.

"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?" He leaned down to your level, his red eyes burning into yours. "Do you really think I wouldn't find out about your little play date with Deku?"

"Play date?" Your eyebrows furrowed. "I was just training, Bakugo. It's not that big a deal."

He scoffed, pulling his hands into his pockets. The rage was still in his eyes, but he didn't appear to want to act on it, instead turning his head to the side.

And despite it not being a good time, the dude beside you was still here, and he had a comment.

"Hey, I was here first, dude." He said, stepping forward. "It’s clear you two have a problem, but this chick isn’t yours. Beat it."

You were honestly expecting Bakugo to explode on him, maybe even punch the guy. He was always so aggressive.

Instead, he simply stared at him for a long moment, blinking at his audacity, only to roll his eyes and turn back to you.

"If you think Deku can help you, then go ahead." He shrugged, taking a step back. "We’ll see how good his teaching is if it can get you to stand a chance against me."

"You think—"

He interrupted you, not even giving you the chance to finish.

"Five o’clock, gymnasium." He smirked, but his eyes were hard. "Don't make me wait."

"But, you said—"

He had already turned his back and began to walk away, the other boy watching him with a dumbfounded expression.

Bakugo only nudged him aside with his shoulder, not giving him a glance as he left the hallway. He might’ve called over his shoulder, calling the kid an extra.

You weren't sure, and frankly, you didn't care. The only thing you cared about at that moment was what just happened, what was going to happen, and kicking the ever-loving shit out of the tattletale who just ruined everything.

The guy was still staring at the hallway Bakugo had disappeared in, his eyebrows scrunched together.

"Did he just—"

"Don’t." You held up a hand, and his mouth shut immediately. "Just don't."

The boy didn't say anything after that. You left him as he was, not caring if he was confused or not. He shouldn't have interrupted in the first place.

You walked to the classroom, immediately hunting down the other blonde, who happened to be your betrayer. He was sitting down, talking to Sero and Kirishima, but you didn't hesitate to grab him by the ear and drag him away.

"Hey!" He cried out, struggling to escape. "What the hell?! Lemme go!"

"Why'd you do that?!" You demanded, turning to him and letting him go. "You ratted me out!"

He blinked, not understanding. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Denks!" You pointed at him accusingly, glaring at him. "You told Bakugo that I was training with Midoriya."

"I… was under a lot of pressure, okay?" He raised his hands defensively, leaning back. "Bakugo came to me after school and demanded where you were. He threatened to blow my face off!"

"Oh, yeah, real mature." You rolled your eyes. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?! He’s going to actually blow my face off."

"He didn't seem that mad," He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe it'll be okay."

"He talked like a regular person," You crossed your arms. "He was terrifyingly calm, Kaminari! And now he wants to meet me in the gym at five o'clock."

"Dude,” Sero extended the vowel, sitting forward in his seat as he had heard the conversation. "You’re so screwed."

You couldn’t help the glare you threw at him.

"You're not helping."

Kirishima also turned, frowning. "No, dude, he's right. You are screwed. I mean, you were sparring with Midobro behind his back." He shook his head. "He probably wouldn’t have cared much if it was me or anyone else, but—"

"You picked his mortal enemy." Sero finished, raising an eyebrow. "Like, seriously, dude. What did you expect?"

"Kaminari not to snitch on me?" You threw a look at the yellow-haired boy. "So much for being friends, huh?"

"Hey, I warned you," Kaminari huffed, crossing his arms. "But no, you wanted to hang out with his rival. If I didn’t tell him, I'm pretty sure he would've killed me. Like, literally, he would've killed me. No doubt."

"But you're fine with me dying?" You asked, a teasing smile pulling at your lips. "I see how it is."

"I thought I would have until after lunch to warn you," He defended himself, shrugging. "Guess he warned you instead, huh?"

You sighed, shaking your head.

"You guys aren't helping," You turned, running a hand through your hair. "I'm dead. So dead. Oh my god."

"Alright, who pissed off the chihuahua?"

You spun around at the sound of Mina's voice, seeing her, Jiro, and Hagakure all standing together.

How wonderful. The gang's all here.

"What are you talking about, Ashido?" Kirishima questioned, tilting his head.

"Bakugo's pissed," Jiro explained, pointing a thumb in his direction. "He’s storming through the hallways like someone just took a dump in his cereal."

"And it's not like he was in a good mood this morning, either," Hagakure added, bouncing on her toes. "Did something happen?"

You groaned and flopped down into a chair, hiding your face in your hands.

"Idiocy happened," Sero answered, shrugging. "That's what happened."

"Shut it, Tape Boy."

"You should probably tell us," Mina advised, sitting down next to you. She pulled you into a side hug, patting your shoulder. "What's up? Talk to me."

"Bakugo found out that I've been training with Midoriya," You mumbled, and the three girls nodded. "I’m dead. Aizawa can’t even save me."

"Aw, c'mon, it's not that bad." Jiro rolled her eyes, walking over to join the group. "Bakugo's all bark and no bite."

"He's not… all bark." You muttered, not meeting her eyes.

"I can vouch for that." Kaminari grinned, but the glare you shot him made him falter. "But uh, no, yeah, he's definitely more bite than bark."

"Oh, you poor baby." Hagakure cooed, leaning forward to ruffle your hair. You couldn't see her face, obviously, but you had a feeling she was smiling. "You can do it, though. It can't be that bad."

"You know what you should do?" Kirishima suggested a bright smile on his face. "Talk to him."

"I think that would make things worse, dude." You rubbed your eyes, sighing.

"I mean, tell him why you were doing it." He shrugged. "He’s feeling all types of betrayed right now, I bet. If you just explain your reasoning, he might let it slide."

"Doubtful."

"But it's worth a shot, isn't it?" He raised an eyebrow, his smile still intact. "Plus, you’d be showing him that you aren't afraid to take the initiative. Maybe he'll be a bit nicer."

"Do it at lunch so that if he tries to kill you, there'll be teachers nearby." Sero grinned.

"You're really not helping." You glared at him, but the group just laughed, leaving you to your sulking.

Mina was about to say something when the door to the classroom opened, and the very loved and grumpy Aizawa walked in. He didn't say a word; instead, he just shot a look at the group before sitting down to wait for the last few minutes before class started.

As much as you wanted to believe it, the only thing the group's conversation managed to do was make you more worried. You spent the entire class staring off into space, staring at the blonde boy who sat two seats in front of you.

His shoulders were tense, and his pencil was practically snapping in half as he scribbled notes on the paper. Every once in a while, his eyes would flicker back and forth, his teeth gritted, and his pencil would move a bit faster.

You couldn’t focus on what Aizawa was saying, too distracted by the blonde's behavior.

The class seemed to go on forever, but eventually, the bell rang, and the class began to shuffle out, chatting and laughing with their friends.

"Hey, Bakubro!" Kirishima walked over to the hothead, who had stayed behind to pack up his things. "You okay, man?"

He was a real one, that Kirishima.

"Peachy." He replied, throwing his bag over his shoulder. His tone was dry, and his eyes were tired, but there was a hint of anger in them.

"You sure? You seem a bit—"

"I'm fine, Shitty Hair." He hissed, his patience wearing thin. "Back off."

The redhead only nodded and backed away, holding his hands up. "Alright, man. Whatever you say."

He looked over at you, his eyes flickering between you and Bakugo.

He didn't need to say a word. You understood. You slowly approached the blonde, your heart in your throat.

"Uhm," You started, your voice cracking. You cleared your throat, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible. "Can we talk? I'll buy lunch."

He glanced at you, his jaw clenching. His eyes flickered down to the floor before meeting yours again.

"What makes you think I need you to buy me lunch?" He huffed, his grip on his bag tightening.

"It's an offer, dude," You shrugged, trying to sound more casual than you felt. It didn’t work. "I just want to talk, okay?"

He stared at you for a long moment, the gears in his head working. He looked over at Kirishima and Kaminari, who had been watching, before rolling his eyes and huffing.

"Fine. Whatever."

He pushed past you and made his way to the door, not bothering to check if you were following. You gave the other two a small, awkward smile and hurried after him, following close behind as he stomped his way through the hall.

You kept a bit of distance but stayed close enough so that he knew you were still there. He didn't speak, didn't even look at you, and his shoulders were still tense.

This was not going to end well.

But he hadn’t said no, so maybe there was a chance.

"So," You began, breaking the silence. "I—"

"Why?" He cut you off, not slowing his pace. His eyes were forward. "I already know your damn reasoning, so don't give me some bullshit excuse. Just tell me the truth."

He had stopped walking, now turning to face you. There were students milling about the hallway, and a couple were giving the two of you strange looks. You tried to ignore them.

You focused on the blonde's gaze.

"You're strong," You confessed, your voice wavering. "I want to be stronger."

His eyes narrowed at that.

"You could've asked," He growled. "You didn't have to sneak around and hide shit."

"Asked to… what? To kick my ass harder during our spars?" You huffed. "Because, as much as I hate to say it, I'm not winning in those."

He paused, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Is that what this is about?" He asked. "You wanted me to go easier on you? Are you kidding me?"

"No, that's not—"

"If you think villains are gonna hold back," He cut you off again, and the volume of his voice was getting higher. "You're out of your damn mind. You can't always depend on some shitty extra to bail your ass out."

"That's not—"

"Then what the fuck do you want from me, huh?!" He demanded, throwing his hands up. "You want me to hold your hand through heroics?! Is that what it is?!"

"I'm not asking you to do anything," You defended yourself, glaring. "All I wanted was a different perspective, damn."

"Yeah, what a nice perspective you got." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Get perspective off the kid who can’t even use his quirk without breaking his fucking body. What a brilliant idea."

"Oh, come on!" You crossed your arms. "There is no reason for you to be so petty. I did this for you, and for me. What's the problem?"

"For me? " He echoed, his eyes widening. "The hell do you mean, 'for me'? Going behind my back and training with the nerd is not doing something for me."

"I did it to be a better opponent to you!" You raised your voice, ignoring the stares of your classmates. "I'm tired of losing all the time! You're my friend, and I don't want to constantly have my ass handed to me!"

"We're not friends," He hissed. "Friends don't do this kind of shit."

You faltered, taken aback.

"I'm— You're—"

"Save it," He snapped, not meeting your gaze. "I'm done. Fuck this. Fuck you. Go find someone else to train with."

He pushed past you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stomped away. You stood there, gaping, unable to understand what just happened.

"Bakugo," You tried, your voice cracking. You didn't turn, too busy staring at the tile floor.

"Fuck off, idiot." He spat, not bothering to look back. "You can forget about the sparring later."

He didn't wait for you to respond. Instead, he shoved his way past the crowd, disappearing from sight.

You were still frozen, and you couldn't tell if the tears welling up in your eyes were from frustration or sadness.

The students rushing around you began to slow, staring at you with pity, confusion, or both.

But you didn’t have time to care because, at that moment, you couldn’t think of anything else.

Your stomach twisted. Your head throbbed. Your heart broke.

And you felt like you were going to throw up.

"Dude," Kaminari said, appearing next to you. "That was rough."

You didn't reply. You couldn't.

"Shut up, man," Kirishima said, placing a hand on your shoulder. He was frowning, his eyes full of worry. "She doesn't need that right now."

"This is some B-lister movie shit right here," Sero commented, shaking his head. "Seriously, what a drama queen."

Bakugo… he was… hurt. You could see it in his eyes. He was angry, obviously, but there was something else. Something that you had never seen before.

"He’s…"

"An idiot?" Sero guessed.

"A jerk?" Kaminari added.

"Emotionally constipated?"

At that, Kirishima punched Sero in the shoulder, causing him to groan and rub the spot.

"Ow, what was that for?!"

"He's just mad," Kirishima ignored the question, turning to face you. "Just give him some space. He'll come around."

"This is different," You argued, your throat burning. "I've never seen him like that. Never. It’s like he’s— I don't know."

"He's an asshole," Kaminari muttered, glaring down the hallway. "Don't waste your time on him."

"You didn't see the look in his eyes," You shook your head. "It was so different. He was almost… dejected."

"Hurt?" Sero repeated, raising an eyebrow. "The guy didn't look like he was in pain. He looked pissed."

"I… did this," You said, and the three boys frowned. "He said we weren't friends because I went behind his back. I didn’t realize he saw us as friends, and I— I ruined it."

"Hey, man, you didn't ruin anything." Kirishima shook his head, his voice firm. "He’ll realize the things he said and—"

You needed to apologize. You needed to go to him, and apologize, and explain in a way that doesn’t leave room for questions.

"I'm sorry," You spoke, interrupting the redhead. "I just— I gotta— I'm gonna go."

"Wait, I wouldn’t—"

But it was too late. You were already pushing your way through the crowd, not caring about the future consequences.

You were on a mission, and you were going to get shit done.

It was easy enough to find him. The Pomeranian hair was a dead giveaway. He never made it to the cafeteria and was instead standing off to the side, staring out the window.

He didn’t look up when you approached him, but you could see the tension in his shoulders.

"I'm sorry."

You didn’t beat around the bush or try to ease him into the conversation. You just came out and said it because there was no point in hiding it.

"Just��" He sighed, not bothering to look at you. "Just leave me alone, alright? We're done."

"Look, I didn’t—"

"Why can't you just listen?!" He yelled, whipping around to glare at you. Despite his angry expression, though, you could see the hesitation.

He wasn't as confident as usual.

"You're not listening to me," You argued. "I'm apologizing. Why can't you—"

"Because I don't need you to apologize," He snarled, his eyes narrowing. "I don't want your fucking apologies. You did what you did, and I'm over it."

"It's obvious that you aren't over it."

"What, and you are?"

"No, not at all," You shrugged, trying not to flinch. "I’m trying to fix the problem."

"Well, don't." He huffed, turning back towards the window. "There is no problem."

"You were going to take your anger out on me," You said, not daring to step any closer. "How the hell is there no problem?"

"I told you," He turned to face you. "I don't care. I don't give a shit anymore. I'm not going to spar with you. Not anymore."

"You can't—"

"I can't, or I won't?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Neither," You said. "I didn't— I didn't train with Midoriya because I didn't trust you."

He laughed. Actually, genuinely laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement. You thought the most terrifying moment of his was when he spoke calmly, but that?

That, right there?

That was the scariest moment of your life.

"Are you joking?" He snorted, the smile disappearing just as fast as it had come. "You think that’s why I'm pissed?"

"It's— it's part of it, right?"

"Oh, no," He shook his head. "No, you don't get it, do you? Do I have to spell it out for you, dumbass? Do you want me to fucking say it?"

You hesitated, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

"Say what?"

He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

"I was fine with the spars," He explained, his voice quiet. "I was fine with the competition. It was fun. You were a good match, and it made me a better fighter. I liked it."

He stopped, taking a deep breath.

"But when you went behind my back," He continued, his voice tight. "And when you didn't bother to tell me and instead told Dunce Face? Of all people?! That's where I had a problem."

"What does—"

"It means you're a coward."

You felt as if you'd been punched in the stomach, the air being knocked out of your lungs.

"You couldn't even look me in the eye and tell me, so instead, you went behind my back." He continued, and the volume of his voice was increasing. "You were too scared to face me, and you ran off and hid like a child."

"That's not true—"

"It is," He growled. "You know it, I know it, and the rest of the class knows it."

"So, you're telling me you're pissed because I'm a coward?" You asked, trying to keep the quiver from your voice.

"Partly," He replied, and the look in his eyes made you flinch.

"Partly," You repeated, your eyebrows furrowing. "So, what's the other part?"

"That I trusted you."

The words stung. They burned through your skin and pierced through your heart, making you feel as if you were the one with the explosion quirk.

He didn’t let you respond and instead walked up to you, his eyes dark.

"I trusted you," He repeated, his voice low. "I trusted you to come to me if you needed something, and I trusted that you would be honest with me. I thought we were at least close enough for that, but it turns out I was wrong."

"You— you weren't wrong—"

"If I was wrong, then why the hell did I go to Deku?! Why not me?! Why did you not trust me?!"

"I did trust you!" You cried, your eyes stinging.

"You went to the one person who could break his body with every punch," He snapped, his hands curling into fists. "You went to the kid who can’t control his damn quirk, and you went to the one person that I—"

He stopped himself, his face twisting in anger.

"What?" You pressed, taking a small step forward. "What were you going to say?"

"Nothing." He spat, turning his head. "Forget it. It's none of your damn business."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Bakugo," You pressed, trying to sound more demanding.

"Fuck off."

"Bakugo!"

He didn't answer and, instead, began to walk away.

"Damn it," You hissed, running up and grabbing his arm.

"Let go." He warned, not meeting your gaze.

"I'm sorry." You pleaded. "Okay? I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you already said that."

"I do trust you," You said. "You're an ass, and you're annoying, and you can be a bit too hardheaded, but I still trust you."

He paused, not looking at you.

"Then why didn't you go to me first?" He asked, his voice wavering. "You were my damn partner, and yet you—"

"I didn’t want you to make me feel bad," You answered. "I wanted to surprise you and prove myself. I know I can do it. I'm strong, and I'm fast, and I can be better than what I am now, and I wanted to show you that."

He was silent, but he still didn’t pull his arm from your grasp.

"I couldn’t ask for your help," You continued. "Because I didn’t want you to treat me any differently. I wanted you to see what I could do without any outside influence."

"What a stupid reason."

"You don't have to agree," You muttered. "But it was my reasoning, nonetheless."

He didn't say anything, and you sighed, letting go of his arm.

"I'm sorry," You apologized again, trying not to cringe. "I should have told you sooner, and I should have come to you. I should have trusted the way you'd react and not predicted how you would act. I was being selfish, and I should have considered you."

He turned his head, his eyes still narrowed. But it wasn't angry. No, it wasn't anger at all anymore. It was pure curiosity.

"What were you trying to prove?"

"Huh?"

"To me," He said, his eyebrows furrowing. "If you were training with me, then what were you trying to prove?"

You bit the inside of your cheek.

"I'm not sure." You answered, not daring to meet his gaze. "I guess I just wanted to impress you."

"Impress me?" He scoffed again, rolling his eyes. "You really are an idiot."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"It means I don't need to be impressed," He explained, his voice softer than before. "I don't give a shit about being impressed. I just want you to be stronger."

"So you can still kick my ass? But be more proud of it?" You guessed, smiling.

"Something like that," He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I want to be able to fight you without holding back."

"Oh, come on," You complained, rolling your eyes. "That's a load of crap, and you know it. You wouldn't have to hold back against me."

"Oh, yeah?" He asked, his voice lowering. "An hour with the nerd, and you think you're on my level now? You're delusional."

"You underestimate me."

"I'm not underestimating shit." He scoffed, leaning down slightly. "I can tell you, right here, right now, two minutes. I'd give it two minutes, tops, and then your ass would be on the floor."

"Really?"

"Really," He nodded, smirking. "Two minutes. That's it."

"Five o'clock?"

"Tch, fine," He agreed, taking a step back. "Don't be late, idiot."

"I won't." You assured, turning to leave. "I'll see you then, Bakugo."

"You'll see my foot up your ass."

And, just like that, the two of you were back to normal.

Did you win? Hell no. But your plan with Deku did come in handy, and you were able to put up a pretty good fight.

He did still beat you, of course, and the time was 4:57 when he finally got you on the floor.

But, it wasn't as humiliating as the previous spars, and you weren't nearly as embarrassed.

Instead, he just grinned, pulling you up by your hand and offering some tips.

And, honestly, they were better than the ones Midoriya had given you.

So, maybe going to the firecracker wasn't a terrible idea after all.

[alchemistc]

Tommy had a younger sister. Eight years apart, Tommy knows intimately what it's like to be the main caretaker to a little girl with a dead mom and a shitty dad.

He'll give the Buckley parents props for at least trying, later on down the line. He hasn't spoken to his dad in years. But he sees the look Maddie gets sometimes, the quiet little corner she retreats to when the Saturday Night title fight is Evan v Margaret and Phillip, and he knows that space, the cavernous echo: could I have done more? and this was never supposed to be my job and will I make this worse or better if I intervene? what raw nerves will I expose if I cut open my wrists to fertilize this soil?

They were good at hiding it, for a while. Evan on his okayest behavior, Margaret and Phillip refusing to rise to any bait like the polite suburban family they were - the kind that would move their grieving child across state lines and force her to keep a secret for decades so that she could never move on from it.

(He's been angry for Evan for years, now, but he's been angry for Maddie too, for himself, for the fucked up things you can never quite prepare for the people that gave you life do to you.)

He had a sister.

And she was bright, and beautiful, and full of laughter and love even when Dad couldn't be fucked to sign her permission slips (Tommy can still forge his father's signature, has it down more precisely than even his own) or buy her a new pair of shoes when the soles broke free and they pinched her toes in tight.

He had a sister. She'd been pissed at him, ten years old and landing brutal kicks to his shins the day before he left for training. She'd been pissed at him, sixteen and quietly sullen over the phone when he told her he was staying in LA. She'd been pissed at him, twenty-two and rudderless while he let her crash on his couch for six months in the shoe-box loft he'd called home.

And she'd loved him. God, she'd loved him. Idolized him: learned football and baseball just to be able to talk to him about the few interests he'd had that his father hadn't dismissed out of hand; always at his hip when he slapped together Kraft Mac and Cheese for dinner and snuck her lunch money at the end of the week when the groceries had dwindled.

He hasn't talked to his sister in years, either.

Maddie tucks herself into the space to his right, glances out over the lawn where Tommy has been sneaking the third cigarette he's allowed himself in the last ten years. She shifts her weight, watches the cherry bloom in the low dusk light. "You gonna share?"

Tommy tips his head to look at her. Digs into his chest pocket for the Reds he'd bought two days before the Buckley parents descended on LA for the wedding.

Maddie's an old pro, apparently, fingers comfortably slack as she lifts the offering to her mouth, glances at him for a light.

The lighter is ancient, still has a snippet of his grandfather's favorite poem etched into the sidewall, though it's worn down and hard to read. The metallic clink of opening and closing the lid, spark igniting on butane with a flick of his thumb, had gotten him through some of his worst nights in Afghanistan. Maddie sucks against the filter and the flame catches thin paper and packed tobacco.

She grimaces at the taste, but pulls, waits, blows smoke out her nose.

"You'd think the Buckley Bowl would calm down after the twentieth rematch," she remarks. She's white-knuckling the railing with her free hand.

"Your dad's gonna come out here in ten minutes wanting to shoot the shit about the Pirates July slump like he didn't accidentally imply he'd have preferred me for a son at brunch yesterday."

Maddie sighs. "They're not always like this. I - You've seen them. I just think. I think my first wedding was a brawl and my second didn't happen as planned and Buck hasn't given them any leeway to throw around their opinions and..."

"You don't have to defend them, you know," Tommy says, and - he's not as close with Maddie as he'd like, but they've talked about it, a little. How lucky she is that Evan hadn't ever lost faith in her, how lucky Evan is to have always had her in his corner. How unfair it had all been. "Not to me."

Maddie's lashes are wet, the corners of her eyes glistening. "They shouldn't do this. Every time, they do this."

"Well, the wedding does come with a devilishly handsome new ally against them," he reminds her, and her laugh is a little soggy, but her eyes sparkle as she takes him in. She takes a drag, does a piss poor job of trying to blow smoke rings. Her hand is tiny when it drifts over his forearm and squeezes.

"Well, soldier, I think we're the cavalry."

Tommy butts out his cigarette into the solo cup he'd set out next to the Adirondacks, an hour after he'd bought the pack, holds it out for Maddie to do the same. Her smile is still a little wet, but it's just as lovely as her. Tommy makes a note to hug her extra hard before she leaves at the end of the night.

"Once more unto the breach," Tommy quotes, and slides the patio door open to let her take point.

[jifloulette]

the day that i met you, i started dreaming . . .

when and where blue lock men meet you for the first time — !

pt. 1 — pt. 2 — pt. 3

જ ｡˚ itoshi rin first meets you when his parents introduced their new next-door neighbors to him.

he really didn't want to meet them, he just wanted to be in his own room doing who knows what. but after enough convincing and scolding from his parents, he gives in. the second he saw you, he was almost immediately captivated. everything about you seemed flawless, from your hair to your eyes to the way you smile. he knows he doesn't believe in love at first sight, it was just infatuation.. right? your parents introduced one-another and you soon did the same, you were lying when you said the black-haired boy with the gorgeous lashes didn't captivate you as well. you took short glances at him and when the two of you locked eyes for a quick moment, you immediately looked at the ground, embarrassed. rin thought it was cute, no, rin thought you were cute so when his parents asked the two of you to go outside and walk for a bit, he was a bit hesitant. not because he didn't want to interact with you, he was just shy. he doesn't know what to say so he started digging through his mind for conversation starters. the first few minutes of walking with him was a peaceful quiet. you notice how he was deep in his thoughts, you didn't know why but it was cute. you start the conversation by complimenting his eyes and how beautiful it looked, especially when the sun is hitting it gracefully. rin became flushed by the sudden compliment and thanks you. rin finds out that the two of you have a lot of things in common! the same love for mangas, ochazuke, and coffee, he begins to enjoy your presence by his side since then. you and rin had started hanging out more, asking him to hang out by the cherry blossom tree beside the neighborhood park. his parents thank you for adding color to his once monochromatic life. he's changed ever since, he's become much more happy yet still has that same cold and stoic personality that you can't help but laugh at.

now 7 months later, he's waiting for you by that same cherry blossom tree, hands fidgeting with one-another. he sees you walking towards him and you notice his nervous expression. something was on his mind and you knew it, you just didn't know what that was. you see how his face became pink, like really pink the second he spots you, it's only when you tuck a loose strand of his hair behind his ear and asked him why he wanted to meet up that he blurts out something that makes you smile.

"h-huh..? oh! y/n, I uh, asked you to meet me here because I.. I really really like you! so if you'd like, please be my girlfriend/boyfriend !!"

જ ｡˚ yukimiya kenyu first meets you at the library across his apartment during winter. (f/s means favorite sport !)

for some reason, he had accidentally forgot to bring back a soccer book that he borrowed that was supposed to be due yesterday. he quickly gets up and gets ready, putting on extra comfortable and warm clothes as there was a lot more snow falling down this day. the second he goes inside, he apologizes profusely to the librarian for forgetting to bring the back the book to which the librarian just lets him go with a warning due to his sincerity and kindness. for a quick second, he sees you in the corner of his eyes wearing headphones and walking leisurely. kenyu is very observant for a person with vision problems. he doesn't hesitate following you due to his confidence and straightforwardness. he sees you carefully looking for a book, muttering things under your breath with a confused look. kenyu, as the gentleman he is, asks if you need any help. you were grateful for this small action because the book you were looking for was actually way higher than you could reach. you thanked him for the assistance before leaving to look for other books that peeked your interest. he seemed like a really nice person, he didn't seem like the type to help you just because he thought you were cute and gullible. he seemed genuine with his actions and words

kenyu was bewitched by you, he accepted it. no one has ever made him feel that way before. the way you talked when you thanked him, the way your eyes glistened when you looked at him, god was he charmed. it doesn't take long before he bumps into you again in the sports section, he greets you with and smile and you do the same. you see him looking for soccer books and you look for (f/s) books, you once again notice that the book you were looking for was on the top shelf. you were to shy to ask kenyu for help so you tried reaching for it by yourself, tiptoeing in the process. kenyu sees this and thinks that it's another way for him to interact with you. just as you were about to fall, he grabs you just in time and reaches the book you tried grabbing. he think it's cute how you looked so shy with that light pink tint on your cheeks when you thank him. so you know what, fuck it, he introduces himself and you do the same. the two of you chat for a bit. in that time you talk to kenyu, you find him very gentle and alluring. you talk about your passions of (f/s) and his own passion for soccer. you could see his eyes light up whenever he talked about soccer, and you were mesmerized by his tender tone. just as you were going to leave, he says something that leaves you speechless and blushing . . .

"you know, y/n.. you're a really interesting person. i'd love to be your friend so is it okay if i ask for your number? i'd love to know more about you, you could even be a model like me with looks like that.."

જ ｡˚ reo mikage first meets you at the washroom of a fancy restaurant. (readers wears a bit of makeup, f/n means father's name)

it was just another night of reo's family eating out with their friends, he was already getting bored of their chit-chat. his father was talking about him becoming his successor but he really could care less. he just continued sipping his drink and nodding to whatever his parents were talking about. he heard them talk about.. business investments? something about how businesses and entrepreneurs do shit so he excused himself from the table to go to the washroom because of how bored he was. he could've been hanging out with nagi, talking about soccer, and playing games with him during this time but no, his parents had to drag him to this restaurant with shitty food. he asked the servers where the comfort room was and thanked them, promising to give them a hefty tip. on his way to the men's washroom, he saw the embodiment of elegancy and grace. he saw you. for once, reo was glad his parents had forced him to go here because he saw you.

there you were, retouching your makeup. putting some more foundation and highlighter, then applying lip gloss on your plump lips. reo just stood there, amazed by the sight of you. you seemed so confident and neat, he loved every single part of you. when you notice him staring via the mirror, you turn around and ask him if he needed anything. he was taken aback to be honest, he really didn't expect you to stop whatever you were doing just to talk to him. reo replied saying that he was fascinated by your figure. you surprised by his answer, it wasn't every day that you get complimented for your looks. as the kind person you are, you thank him for the sudden comment by giving him a small but soft smile before grabbing your little makeup kit and leaving. only then did reo go to the washroom to do his business but oh how he wished he had stopped you and asked for your number, fuck, just asking for your name would've done the job for him as well! but no, he was a coward, he only really expected the people who thought he was cute to make the first move. when he was going back to his parents' table, he saw them talking to you! he was shocked. how did you know them? what were you guys laughing about? his parents call out to him to introduce you, y/n l/n, the child of an old friend of his dad, the child of a famous businessman. his parents recognized your distinct facial features and knew that you were (f/n)'s child. reo finally took the chance and asked for your number, that's the most he's ever done! usually, girls and guys that liked reo were the ones flocking to him and he was used to do that so he thought, lose the chance or take the risk?

"hey..! you're that cute guy/girl I saw at the washroom, can i get your number because you look like a ten out of ten!"

(yeah, you definitely cringed at that cheesy pick up line buuut since he asked so nicely, you gave it to him)

જ ｡˚ bachira meguru first meets you at the mall while buying paint supplies with his mother.

meguru really didn't want to go with his mom to the mall, not because he didn't want to but because the thought of seeing someone from his class made him sick to the stomach just by thinking about it. but he eventually surrendered to his mother's wishes and went along with her. he decided to wear a simple outfit, just some brown pants, a plain white shirt with a vest layered on it. everything was going really well for the first time in his life! he didn't see any people he was familiar with, he bought a new soccer book, and then he saw you. immediately captivated by your gentleness and purity as you were looking through the endless shelves of art supplies. he instantly wanted to talk to you but he was scared, scared of what you'd think of him. it isn't every day that someone would walk up to you as if you guys knew each other well. so, he asked his mother for advice! Yu said that if he wanted to talk with someone who he thought piqued his interest, he should just be himself! telling him to not be scared and just go with the flow. she then asked who he was so fascinated with and he pointed to you. his mom complimented your style, saying that you looked like a sincere person, so she motivated his son to go ask for your name.

for the first time in meguru's life, he wasn't scared of what others would think of him. all he cared about right now was talking to you. you flinched a bit when he tapped your shoulder. he apologized for scaring you and introduced himself. he was happy, really happy. he finally had enough courage and confidence to talk to someone, more so when you genuinely seemed like you were interested in him. you were smiling, smiling at him! he was chatting with you as if you were his best friend. you obviously introduced yourself to him after, complimenting his smile and his hairstyle. he blushed a bit when you said that, it was the first time someone, besides his mother, complimented him. he really enjoyed hearing you talk about your passion for arts and crafts, it reminded him of how Yu would tell him some tips and tricks for painting when he was painting besides her. it was like destiny that he saw you today, he thanked whatever god was out there for giving him the strength and energy to go out with his mother. so meguru finally got enough courage to build up and asked you something that squealed and hugged him in response!

"hey, y/n.. i really really think yer' a fun and interesting person like me so do ya think I could get yer' number? i would very much love to be your friend..!:

(little did you know that Yu got her phone out and recorded meguru finally making a friend)

©��​​🇮​​🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else.

note ; omg ate i keep making fics instead of reviewing for exams !

[wolfiesmoon]

hey, i wanted to say first that i love ur writing style. Also I wanted to ask (if is not a problem) jade, floyd and leona the prompt “cheek kisses that leave red lipstick stains”

awwww i'm so glad u think so!! i'm not sure if you mean the more silly one or the more serious one but either way i'm very happy 🩷

the reader is gender neutral in essence but they do wear lipstick because it's needed for this fic

jade's is suggestive i suppose????? so watch out for that????

⋆୨୧˚ Jade Leech

"Interesting choice of lipstick. Not in a bad way, of course." Jade commented upon seeing you.

"I bought it yesterday, but I still have something I have to test out." You tried your best to look innocent and nonchalant.

You've had this lipstick for a while actually, but you still haven't tested if it's transfer proof yet. Jade is the perfect candidate to test that out. Atleast in your humble opinion.

"Oh? And what might that be?" he smiled at you.

"You'll see. Like, literally right now." you mirrored his decievingly innocent smile. After you kiss him, his eyes will probably go wide like they always do when he isn't expecting something. Which just so happens to be one of your favourite expressions of his.

You reached your hands out to him and pulled his face close to yours, then pressed a nice, long kiss on his right cheek. You mirrored it on the left one too, of course. Symmetry always looks nice.

Just like you predicted, he made the exact face you envisioned, with slightly pink cheeks as a bonus.

"Oh. I was... certainly not expecting that." he sounded genuinely surprised, smiling happily at you and showcasing his sharp teeth in the process. Knowing Jade, you honestly don't want to know what he thought you were going to do with that lipstick.

"Aw man, it's not transfer proof." you acted slightly dissapointed, but in reality, you couldn't be more glad that it isn't. Hmmm, it kinda feels nice to catch Jade off guard like that. Maybe you should do it more often.

"You don't realise what you've just done, do you?" his smile quickly turns sinister in a way you can't quite put your finger on. It makes you feel all weird, like you're pray getting cornered.

"Done what?" you laughed nervously.

"I do hope that you are good at hiding bite marks." as he said that, he was already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to god knows where.

"Wait... Jade, where are you taking me? Jade?!"

You have a feeling the lipstick might get smudged by the time you're done.

⋆୨୧˚ Floyd Leech

"I don't wanna talk to you..." Floyd sulked, not looking at you.

"He's been like this for the whole day." Normally, Jade would deal with Floyd's bad mood, but he's been causing even more trouble for the Lounge than usual today and was not very willing to be put in a better mood by his brother, so Jade was forced to employ higher forces to help him out. The higher forces being you, of course.

"Right... Actually, I think I might have an idea on how to solve this." You thought of a certain thing you wanted to for a while now but never had the chance to.

"Is that so?" Jade noticed the mischevious smile on your face, amused at whatever you'll come up with.

.

"Floyd, come with me." You pulled on his collar, sounding confident and serious.

"I told you, I'm not going to talk to you..." he glared at you, trying to push your hand away.

"There's no talking involved." You pulled harder and he finally let up, silently letting you drag him to a quiet corner of the school.

Because he's still in a bad mood, he hasn't looked your way at all. This also means he hasn't noticed the lipstick.

Suddenly, you grab a hold of his face and press a kiss to his lips before he can protest.

"Oh... oooooooh!" His face brightened up and it seems his mood has instantly improved. Floyd's a surprsingly simple guy sometimes, isn't he?

But, you're not done yet.

You pepper kisses on each of his cheeks without letting him say anything at all. He lets out strange but not entirely unwelcome noises while you're busy decorating his cheeks with kiss marks.

"There. Are you in a better mood now? Because the Mostro Lounge needs you." you looked satisfied with your work and so did Floyd when he got a glance of himself in the mirror.

"Ehhhh, do I really have to? I feel like squeezing you, not going to work. Especially not now that I'm all decorated with your kisses." he looked annoyed at the mention of work, wanting nothing more than to smother you with love and bonecrushing hugs right now.

Seems your plan kinda backfired since he became a little too happy and doesn't seem fond of letting you go anytime soon.

⋆୨୧˚ Leona Kingscholar

It is a bit unusual for you to wear such a bright lipstick color. He brushes it off, thinking you were just in the mood for a bright color or something.

Why should he care what color your lips are, anyways? Does not matter at all.

"Leonaaaa.... come here, kitty kitty~" you called him over jokingly and he glared at you in annoyance which only made you snort harder. But he still came over anyways, so you call it a win.

He looked at you, waiting for you to clarify on what you called him over for. Better be worth his time.

You grabbed a hold of the two braids at the front of his hair and pulled him into a kiss. Though it was a short(er) one since your main targets are his cheeks.

You made sure to thoroughly decorate them with kisses, turning his head left and right to inspect your work and make sure the number was about equal.

"You done?" he tries to sound unbothered, but you immediately see through it. He's definitely really happy about it.

"Yeah. You can go back to napping now." you let him go, and he lingered for a moment, no doubt dissapointed that you actually said yes. But since he didn't want to show it, he returned to his napping spot under the tree and you went back to studying in the library.

.

"Leeeeeoooonaaaa! Are you here again? Professor Crewel is mad at y- What is that on your face?" Ruggie's scolding session was cut short when he noticed the lipstick marks on Leona's face.

"What are you.... Ugh..." turns out Leona kinda forgot about the fact that lipstick usually leaves marks and that his cheeks were full of 'em this whole time. He groans at the realisation.

Though... they might not be that bad if they were made by you.

"Oh my god, stay still. I gotta take a photo of this. I'm sure your family would be happy to know you're doing well in your love life." Ruggie was about to pull out his phone but was stopped by Leona who swiftly grabbed his wrist. Wait, since when was he standing, anyways?

"Jesus, you scare me sometimes..." Ruggie pushes his phone back in his pocket. "Well, do I go get something to clean your face or what?"

Leona hesitates.

"Yeah, yeah."

[jayhyunglover]

I trusted you and you doomed us all , just for her.

Inspired by Rafayel's lore.

SeaGod Rafayel! × Non mc Reader!

Not proofread . I just wanted to get it out of my chest before it's too late.

Warnings: angst angst angst

It's been 800 years already,  yet I still remember everything clearly like it was yesterday. His endless teasing , his contagious laugh , those amethyst eyes , those purples locks.

I remember everything so clearly,  the pain , the cries the heartbreak,  the love.

"Slow down you dumb fish" I exclaimed struggling to keep up with his pace while he swam effortlessly in the deep water.

"Hey it's not my fault if you're slower than a sea cucum- Ouch! What was that for" he masaged his forehead where a wave of water splashed his face.

"You know that's no way to treat your God" he shook his head crossing his arms over his chest amethyst eyes filled with mock offense

"I'll start treating you like a God when you start to behave like one" I retorted swimming past him to observe the ruin of the human ship he wanted to show me

"So bossy Seaweed head" he teased earning a glare from me

"Why did you even take me here for ? Dont you have to get ready for your upcoming ceremony?" I asked with an exasperated sigh running my hand against the hard planes of the ship.

"Oh you know I like to spend time with my favorite follower" he teased following behind me making my heart beat faster.

He's just toying with your sanity.

"So what is that?" I asked knocking on the wood

"Its a ship" he replied

"An human's invention" I looked at him unimpressed.

Rafayel had a weird fascination with everything related to the surface and those creatures called humans

"You really need to stop frowning all the time you're gonna looks like Gran Galea" he pinched my cheeks making me swat his hands away

"And you need to stop being so interested to the surface." I retorted trying my best to sound stern to someone who's supposed to be the God I worship

"Let's get going before Galea starts cussing out the Corails because of our late arrival" I said  before starting swimming back to the palace excepting him to follow me but he stayed there gazing up at the water with a longing look ok his face

"Rafayel ?" I called out for him making his pink-blues eyes snap back towards me

"Go ahead I'll join you later" he offered me a small smile but I knew that look he was planning something .

Not wanting to be even more late than I was already I just shrugged and left

Rafayel could get away with being late but not me unfortunately.

"Y/n finally I've been searching for you everywhere" Gran Galea exclaimed already dragging me in the midst of preparations.

It was the event of the century,  one that plagued every Lemurian mind. The ceremony where Rafayel will officially become a SeaGod

Yes this same Rafayel who annoyed the pearls out of me , this same  Rafayel I threatened to castrate multiple time , this  same Rafayel I fought countless time over the last piece of Lobster . This same Rafayel who teased me endlessly because I couldn't cry Pearls until I cried Rivers of them.

It was hard for me to wrap my head around the fact this purple haired individual was supposed to be our leader.

This same leader I literally threatened to not go to the surface alone because I knew how stubborn he could be.

"Promise me"

"But-" I gave him a dirty  look that made him reliatate

"Ok fine" he huffed crossing his arms over his chest "you know you're such a bossy sea cucum-"

"Call me that again and I'll rip your scales off  in your sleep" I threatened making him chuckle and pat my hair affectionately

"Stop" I groaned swatting his hands away

"And a feisty one too" he teased pinching my cheeks making me grumble

All of those were distant , beautiful memories.  Because me and Rafayel never went to the surface together. The ceremony never went to term and he never became officially a SeaGod.

All because of her , This sacrifice.

Why ? I always wondered.  Why did he threw anything away for her? Why did abandoned us , me , our homeland? Leaving behind an ocean of heartache and sorrow

It's been 800 years now . I should have forgotten about it. The pain , the cries, the heartbreak. But it stayed with me. Engrained in my brain , haunting my days and nights.

I lost my people, my homeland,  watched my own blood getting slaughtered and mistreated by those humans , the same kind that fascinated him , the same kind as her . The one he sacrificed everything for.

"Why?" I asked tears streaming down my face that turned into clear, untainted pearls, blade pressed against the pale skin of his neck.

I was met with a deadly silence,  he was not angry or sad just resigned . As if he knew he messed up. He knew the reason of the downfall of Lemuria and I did too . Deep down I knew.

His hand came up to brush a pearl off my cheeks.

"You're still such a crybaby, seaweed head" he murmured voice uncharestically soft the sound making my heart constrict.

"Tell me" I pressed the blade harder against his skin voice bordering on desperate "why did you abandon us?"

No answer again because he knew I knew why he did this . Because I felt it too.

Love .

Such a dangerous thing for a Lemurian. Something that can make you go unimaginable length. Such as sacrificing an entire Empire and drive a civilization to his downfall.

"Love" I laughed bitterly "I trusted you and you doomed us all, just for her, just for love " my vision was now foggy my heart twisting in pain.

Love such a dangerous thing , even worse when it's not reciprocated,  even worse when the person you loved was ready to sacrifice everything for another,  another that wasnt you , that will never be you because after all he's a God and you are just his follower.

@jinwoosbabyboo @poisonf0rest @yourlocalcatscammer

[propheticbride]

Bastards and Dragons I

𐙚 As you return to Kind's Landing to help defend your brother's claim to Driftmark, you find yourself entangling yourself in old resurfacing feelings.

𐙚 Aemond x Reader (tw: manipulation, incest)

It had been years since you had graced King’s Landing, staying in Dragonstone along with your other siblings, at your mother's behest. The memories of your childhood stung, the castle you had left behind simply just a memory of a different time.

You were not stupid. You knew why Vaemond was questioning Lucerys’s birthright to Driftmark. Everyone did. Although you loved Laenor, you felt a disconnect from him. He was a good father, and tried his hardest to make sure you and your brothers knew comfort and love. But deep down, it didn't feel right.

You hadn't been in Kings Landing for even a day, before you and your brothers found yourselves in the training yard, Jacaerys leading the tour.

"See? I told you this would still be here." he smiles at your youngest brother. "And you thought you could swing Criston’s morning star. And you almost took your own head off."

Lucerys looks around nervously, shrinking into his form.

"What's your problem?" Jacaerys shot Luke a look.

"Everyone’s staring at us." Luke sighs. "No one would question me being heir to Driftmark…if…if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong."

"It doesn't matter what they think." you remind him.

Crowds of noise begin to cheer, as you and your brothers turn around to see all the fuss.

You find yourself staring at the man with long silver hair moving between a man you did know, Criston Cole.

Suddenly, the silver haired man turned, and the image of young Aemond was quickly replaced by a dashing prince. Aemond stood tall in the courtyard, keeping his feet moving as he swung his sword against Cole. Fast and quick in his movements, eventually besting the much older knight.

The spectators all clapped, including you and your two brothers.

"Well done, my Prince." Criston nods at Aemond. "You’ll be winning tourneys in no time."

"I don’t give a shit about tourneys." Aemond's eyes find yours, not your brother's. "Nephews…and my darling niece. Have you come to train?"

You hadn't seen your uncle in so long, he had changed from the once quiet and bullied boy that you had known. You once exchanged words with him every so often when able, until your mother had moved you all so abruptly to Dragonstone, cutting off any connection you had formed with the prince.

His eyes focus on you, taking note of how curious you glanced back at him. You had changed. The soft meek girl who hid behind her mother’s skirts was now a beautiful woman, standing before him with an air of interest for him in her.

"It seems time has passed faster than I thought", he remarks with an undertone of mockery.

“I haven't seen you since...the incident at driftmark.” you smile at him, manners always first.

Aemond lets out a dry chuckle at your words, his eye narrowing. "Yes, the issue at Driftmark", he says with a bitter tone, "It seems like yesterday."

The memories of that night were never far from his mind. Every night you were gone, he had thought about how your screams alerted the guards, allowing them to pull apart the bastards that attacked him. You had cupped his face, sobbing as you took his gashed face in. Aemond had gripped your skirts so tight, almost feeling bad for bloodying your nightgown.

“Childhood must’ve been fond at times, no?” you ask, trying to search his eye.

"Fond? I suppose for some, it was...", he huffs, "But for me, you could say it was quite the opposite.”, he adds, his voice bitter as he glances at your brothers briefly before turning his gaze back to you.

You knew Aemond’s childhood hadn't been the best. Thanks to Jacaerys and Aegon’s cruel treatment of him. You remember warning Jacaerys that beaten dogs always bite back, completely sure that the incident at Driftmark was that: the dog finally biting back.

You look at Jacaerys then back to the prince, “But god you've grown so tall…I remember Aegon being the taller one.”

Aemond can't help but smile at that. It was true, he had grown considerably since he was younger, and he was now taller than Aegon. Giving him some power trip over the other man.

"Indeed, I have", he says with a smile. "I grew far more than my brother did".

“And what a fighter you have become.” Lucerys speaks up.

“Quite the fighter? And what do you know of Knights, boy?” Aemond questions the smaller one, who shrinks at his crueler tone used for him.

“Nothing. Lucerys knows nothing, but he is to learn, is he not? If he is going to be the heir to Driftmark.” you try to ease the tension you can feel building up.

Aemond laughs at the mention of Lucerys being the heir to Driftmark. "Yes, the little bastard shall be the Lord of Driftmark…” Aemond turns to look at your brother. "Though I wonder if he's truly worthy of such a title.”

“Aemond.” you say with a mixture of disgust and shock.

You weren't stupid, very obviously aware of you and your brother’s brown soft locks instead of the traditional silver hair Targaryen’s donned. But your mother had explained sometimes it wasn't the promised color, evident of Rhaenys’s brown hair.

Aemond merely smiles at your reaction.

"Oh, come now…” he says, his tone mocking. "Surely you know the truth. Lucerys is a bastard, and he has no right to claim Driftmark.”

“Then that makes me a bastard as well, does it not?” you are quick to defend your brother to his words.

The prince only glances at you before leaning close into your ear to whisper, "Yes, I suppose it does. But tell me, have you ever felt anything akin to jealousy knowing that you are to be nothing more than a mere bastard, while your younger brother will be lord of the tides? And your other one, heir to the iron throne? You could be so much more, if the opportunity would arise.”

✮⋆˙

“Mother?” you are quick to enter her chambers.

Rhaenyra looks up at you, at her feet Viserys and Aegon play. “Yes my love?”

“I ran into Aemond earlier, training with Cole..” you say, sitting beside her on the velvet chair.

“Oh you did, did you?” Rhaenyra’s face turns, not liking the idea of you with her brother. She quickly glances up at you, reading your face almost immediately. “What is it?”

“Mother, he called us bastards. For all of the training yard to see and hear."

“He did what?” she looks concerned.

“Mother, he said that Luke wouldn't inherit Driftmark, because he is a bastard. And that he's not worthy of it, like Jace isnt of the throne…” you sigh at your words. “That I would seek nothing, because I am a bastard.”

Your mother’s face softens a bit. She would never allow any harm to befall her children, she’d rather die. “Hey.” she soothes. “My sweet, do not listen to him, for he speaks lies. You are not a bastard, you are my daughter and you are everything. Do not ever forget that, hm?”

Tears form in your eyes. “I am not stupid mother. I see the way Queen Alicent looks at me, and has looked at all three of us for years. How the court sneers behind our backs for the color of our hair.”

Rhaenyra’s heart aches once again, as she reaches out, she tilts your chin up. “Do not listen to them, my love.” she speaks softly. Rhaenyra would not allow your innocence to be taken from you at such a young age. “You know the truth…you are my daughter, my beautiful girl. No one can argue that.”

“Is that why Vaemond is questioning Luke as heir?” you ask.

Your mother’s hand falls from your face and she sighs, “No my dearest. The truth of it is that he is a greedy and restless second son scorned.”

“Lots of theatrics for a second son.”

Rhaenyra gives you a small smile, “It’s the height of ambition, is it not? And foolishness.”

“Where is Daemon?” you ask as you glance around her empty chambers.

Rhaenyra pauses for a second, “Why?”

“You shouldn't be alone while we’re here.” you look back to her.

Your mother chuckles softly, cocking her head so slightly. “I’ll be fine, little one.” she assures. “I don’t need him watching me every second of the day.”

“I still don't like you being alone.” you frown, allowing her to pull you into her.

“And why is that hm?” she asks.

“Because I do not trust the queen. Not at all.” you declare.

“You too then, hm?” Rhaenyra laughs slightly. Of course you didn't. It had always worried your mother how much you truly did pick up on. “And why do you not trust her?”

“Because of how she treats us. Treats you.” you point to the scar on Rhaenyra's arm, left by Alicent years ago.

Rhaenyra pauses, recounting how you and your brothers had witnessed that moment. Alicent went mad, stupid enough to bring a knife to the heir of the throne, but to actually cut skin and cause the blood of the dragon to stain the floors, was another act entirely.

“I am so sorry you and your brothers had to witness that. You should have been in your chambers.” her voice is soft.

“Alicent should've died for that...you are the heir to the throne!” you shake your head, voice shaking slightly.

Rhaenyra’s eyes widen, her stomach turns from your words. She places her hands on your face, “Do not say such things.”

“Why not? Are you saying that grandfather allowing her to live was right? That she saw no punishment...no justice, was right?” you stand to your feet, almost upset at what you are hearing.

Rhaenyra stands as well, sighing as she shakes her head. “It does not matter if it was right or not.”

“Yes it does!”

“She-” your mother pauses and takes a deep breath. As if she was choosing her words carefully. “I do not want you thinking or bringing up anything from that night. I am your mother and you are my daughter, I do not wish to hear it come from your mouth. Do I make myself clear?”

“You're defending her.” your eyes widen at the realization. Your mother was defending the very woman who had bullied her for years, tormented you and your brothers with vile gossip and drove you all from your places in King’s Landing.

“I am not-” Rhaenyra huffs in frustration. “I am merely protecting you-”

“You are not protecting me from anything! Do you think when you took Harwin Strong into bed, you'd be protecting us?” you know the words will sting her, but at the moment you are too angry to care.

Rhaenyra looks at you, almost as if you were a stranger in the moment. “You-”

“Everyone knows mother, you can tell by how they stare at us.” your voice is quiet, defeated.

“Darling, look at me.” Rhaenyra demands. “There's my daughter. The one who's kind, smart and fierce. Words have never hurt you before, you shall not let them hurt you now.”

“You don't understand what it's like. When it’s all anyone can see! I am meant to be a Velaryon, yet I am barely that if that at all!” hot tears stream your face, your own frustration growing.

“I don't understand?” Rhaenyra’s voice breaks. “I wouldn't understand? What it’s like to be stared at, to be whispered about as I walk the halls? What do you think happened to me when you were born? Or the years before that?”

“It isn't the same!” you stress. “You are a Targaryen! You have the silver hair! I have the brown hair that shows proof of your-”

“Of my what?” your mother’s face falls.

“Everyone knows…that Harwin Strong is our father.”

Rhaenyra swallows, a look of hurt painting her face. “You should not focus on that. You should focus-”

“On myself, yes. The bastard of the great House Targaryen.” with your last words, you can't help but not stay for the argument that would ensue. You quickly leave her.

✮⋆˙

The door to his chambers stood before you. You knew his chambers by heart because before you were ripped away from King's Landing, they were once your chambers.

You inhale a breath, debating if doing it is really worth it. What answers could he have that your mother was not giving you. Honesty perhaps being one.

You knock slightly on his door. After some footsteps are heard, his door swings open to him standing there. As he takes your image in, his face turns into a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“Aemond. I did not wake you did I?” you ask softly.

“No, you did not.” he shakes his head. “I simply was reading.”

“Can I come in?” you give him a soft smile, hoping he takes note of your kindness.

“Very well.” Aemond stands back, opening his chamber doors to allow you in. “You may enter.”

You enter his chambers and remove your robes, leaving you in your nightdress.

Aemond raises his eyebrow as he closes his chamber door, taking in your form.

“I spoke to my mother earlier today.” you break the silence that hung between you two.

Aemond’s figure leans against one of the stone walls and simply stares at you. “Oh? What about?”

“I know Harwin Strong is my father, but she won't deny yet won’t say the truth plainly.” you look at the ground, refusing to make eye contact as you say the words.

Aemond’s only eye widens.

The rumor of Harwin being you and your brother’s true father was a nasty rumor that had circulated the court for years. Hanging shame on the crown princess, and her children as people whispered whenever they were present. A rumor he know his own mother had begun, backed by a simple ‘Just look at their hair, that is no true Targaryen nor Velaryon’

It was an open secret, nasty gossip. Never confirmed.

Not until now. You stood before him, confirming what your mother tried so hard to keep quiet.

He studies your face for a fleeting moment before speaking, “So it is true then? Harwin Strong is your father?”

You nod as tears begin flooding your face, “He is. Perhaps I always knew, but just wanted to deny it. But as I grow older I cannot. I've come to you because you know what it's like to...not belong where you are supposed to.”

Aemond watches as you wipe your tears, his expression turning soft as he pushes himself off the wall and walks towards you. He knew exactly what you meant. He had been an outsider for years, looking in as Aegon and your brothers relentlessly tortured him.

“I do not know what to do. I feel like I will not fit no matter where I am. Like a broken piece of a glass that cannot be put back.” you sob.

Aemond cups your face, bringing you to look directly at him. And in that moment the shy bastard he once knew flushed away as now all he could see was your gorgeous face, inches away from his.

When did these feelings exist? He felt butterflies as you searched his face.

“I know what it's like…to feel that way,” he admits. “It's an unbearable feeling that threatens to swallow you whole.”

You lean in, “I never hurt you, I couldn't. I knew my brothers were so cruel to you, along with Aegon...I felt so bad.”

“No, you never hurt me sweet girl.” he murmurs. “But you also never stopped them. You were the oldest of your brothers, you should've…”

“I'm sorry!” you cry. “Please do not be mad at me, I cannot have you against me as well.”

“I’m not mad at you.” he assures. “I could never be mad at you. It's just…sometimes your indifference pained me more than their cruelty.”

“I should've said something, told someone. Maybe if I had, you'd still have your eye.” you admit. Not sure you believe your words.

“Perhaps you should have.” Aemond smiles a little, the idea of your empathy towards him over taking the side of your brothers made him feel different towards you. Feelings he had tried so hard to ignore, pouring back in. He shakes his head, “No need to ponder on the painful past. What’s done is done I’m afraid, and we must live with the consequences of our actions.”

You stare at Aemond's lip, desire burning in your eyes, “Did you ever think of me? All of those years?”

Aemond nods at you, of course he thought of you. More than he'd care to admit. "Yes", he answers. “I thought of you. More often than I should have.”

“I thought of you too...would stare out from the balcony of my chambers towards the shores of King’s Landing...missing you.” your years have cleared up now, face inches from his. The tension is too much.

“You missed me?” he asks in disbelief.

“Yes uncle, I missed you.”

Aemond’s breath hitches at the use of the term, something you had called him playfully as children.

‘Yes uncle, coming uncle.’

Aemond’s restraint, all of it that he was holding back so desperately, shatters. He leans in, closing the gap and presses his lips against yours. You immediately react, holding his face just as he holds yours.

You pull back from the kiss, “what did you mean? Earlier you said I could benefit from a situation that would arise...what would you want with a bastard like me?”

Aemond’s expression changes, still caught up in the fact you willingly kissed him back. Something he only dreamed of when he was younger.

He let out a sigh, "Yes, bastard or not, I have desires. Desires that you, as a bastard, could fulfill for me.”

You weren't sure you liked his tone. “And what desires are that?”

He takes in your form again, and takes a deep breath. “Desires better shown than spoken about.”

You didn't know he had felt this way about you. Only a child’s crush that faded only so slightly when you were forced from your home.

“I cannot give you anything, but perhaps children with brown hair I’m afraid...I'm nothing.” you insist, shaking your head.

Aemond sighs dramatically, “Do not speak of yourself like that. You are much more than that whore’s bastard daughter. And as for children? I’ll give you beautiful silver haired boys to dote after.”

“You...you'd give me princes?”

He smiles at you, hands returning to your face. “Yes”, he says firmly. “I would. I'd give you princes and princesses. Legitimate sons and daughters.”

“But I am not your wife, they would be bastards.” you remind him.

His heart aches at the truth of your words, but you were right. You were not his wife. They would be bastards. But you didn't need to be married for them to be conceived.

“Make me your wife.” you whisper. “Take me the way Daemon has taken my mother.”

“The old Valyrian way is a blood oath…you would want that? I thought all princesses dreamed of fancy feasts and wedding ceremonies.” Aemond laughs a little.

“I'm not one for feasts...or for dramatic gatherings of strangers. I know your mother wouldn't allow it, nor would mine. Besides, once married, one of us would have to die for it to be void.”

Aemond’s eyes darken slightly. “Our mothers, at each other’s throats for us and our safety, yet not knowing where our hearts truly lie.”

“So you’ll have me?” you ask, desperate and vulnerable.

“Yes.” he nods. “I’ll have you…in every way.”

You kiss him, it's desperate and almost pathetic. Moaning against his mouth as you try to rid him of his clothes. He groans into the kiss as well, feeling your need for him. The need he's felt for you for years, desperate for this.

He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily. “You're eager aren't you.”

“I’ve needed you since we were younger, Uncle.” you nod.

“And i’ve wanted you.” he begins to shed you of your nightgown. “From the moment you first spoke to me when we were children. I knew you would be my wife, you had to.”

“Take me.” you beg.

“I’ll take you.” he says breathlessly. With one swift movement, he carries you to his sprawling bed.

“I love you, Uncle.” you manage out. The words are surprising, even to you.

Aemond lays you down against the soft blankets, “I love you as well sweet girl. More than I should…more than I intended.”

You kiss him again, reaching for the growing hard on you can visibly see through his pants.

He groans at your touch, growing weak in your hands. “Impatient aren't you?”

“Waited for so long...waited my whole life to be with you!” you tell him.

“I’m here now. I’m yours.” he promises.

He moans at your touch, getting lost in the pure lust of it. “Fuck.”

“Stop teasing me…haven't we both waited enough?” you cry. You wanted him now.

“You want me?” he smirks. “Perhaps I won't hold back.”

“Don't.” you insist.

“Oh you’ll have me. All of me.” he demands. He pins your wrists above your head, covering your body with his.

You both deepen the kiss as he begins to press and roll his body against yours, the small flame inside you flickering. Pure pleasure rattling you.

“You feel good,” he murmurs. “so good.”

He lifts your hips up, pinning you against him, rolling his hips harder. You moan wildly, and desperately. All of these feelings were so new to you, as you imagined they were new to Aemond too.

“Have you done this before?” you ask him.

His face riddles with guilt, and your heart drops slightly.

He nods, “I have.”

“Oh…”

“Aegon…made me. Said it would turn me into a man. It meant nothing.” he insists.

“You laid with a maiden?”

He shakes his head, “A whore.”

Your heart feels better at this. Whores were an easy outlet to the men of Aemond’s kind. You knew that. It meant nothing at the end of the day.

“I’m still…a maiden.” you tell him.

A bastard who was still a virgin.

“How intriguing. I would not have guessed-”

“You think I am a whore?” you scoff.

“No. I know you know better than that…but with your mother leading by example, one must wonder.” he corrects you.

“I wanted to save it…for someone special.” you admit silently.

His eye widened, “You saved it for me?”

Deep down he figured that in all those years, Rhaenyra had married you to your brother, Jace. And that by the time you returned you would have made Rhaenyra a grandmother. To his surprise, you weren't married to him, nor did you bear any of his children. It made him know that you simply were his.

“You did not marry Jace?” he asks.

You shake your head, “I love him, the way a sister loves a brother.”

“And me?” he stares at you.

“I do not love you the way a niece should love an uncle.” you take a sharp breath.

“And how do you love me then?” he lays his forehead against yours.

“The way a wife loves her husband.”

[lukolabrainrot]

Just some thoughts

After everything yesterday, I've been thinking about this...

So I think most of us in the Lukola community have now identified how both L/N publicly go to bat for each other, but they DON'T do this with some of the other people they have been publicly linked to recently. And this got me thinking about the Fallon interview. Now I want to say these are just my THOUGHTS AND THEORIES based on everything I've seen, but this is what I'm thinking...

Now, yes, that interview was definitely damage control that was scheduled after the backlash from papgate. When the interview originally aired, I really wasn't giving it more weight than PR damage control. But after everything I know now, and everything from this weekend, here are some of my current thoughts/theories:

L made VERY sure to include N in that interview and try to clear up the rumors that papgate happened because he doesn't care about N and/or wanted to overshadow her and undermine their season. And based on Fallon's response, I don't think L mentioning N was planned tbh. However, it's hard to know 100%. But what is interesting is that L didn't then (and has yet) to address ANY of the rumors, theories, and hate circulating around A...

BUT, regarding N, he wants the world to know he's the Ken to her... BARBIE. Now based on how L kind of trailed off at the end and didn't finish that sentence, I believe that he realized he had maybe said too much, ON NATIONAL TELEVISION 🙃 And Fallon's response of kind of like Um okayyy L, also signaled to me that this was impromptu.

Now, let's dissect the Ken statement a little bit (outside of them talking about Barbie). I think L's ultimate wish with saying this and bringing up N is that he wanted people to know how much he RESPECTS, LOVES, AND ADMIRES N, and that they are partners and he never wants to try and "outshine" her. Yes, he was talking about Bridgerton, but he also SPECIFICALLY wanted people to know his thoughts on N. Just think about that for a second 🤔

Now yes, he DID call N his coworker when talking about her. But let's be honest. WHAT WAS HE SUPPOSED TO SAY?? Everyone had come to the conclusion that he had a girlfriend atp (even though he and his team have NEVER confirmed this). People were also confused because of the wild chemistry that they saw for months between L/N during the PR tour (which was real- if you still call THAT PR, I don't know what to tell you). But L wasn't going to be addressing these complexities with N on national TV. He already realized he was a little too obvious about the Ken statement, which is why he trailed off. But he needed the world to know that he and N were good! I've said this multiple times, but there is a LOT that L/N need to probably figure out IN PRIVATE and on their OWN TERMS. We gotta just let them cook, and give them time.

We know that the Fallon interview didn't really fix anything, and he continued to get so much hate that he basically disappeared from SM for 2 months. And I've just been wondering that if people had actually LISTENED to the things L/N were saying about each other after papgate, if things would have ended up VERY different in this situation...

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #33

MC: Eating chips with chopsticks is unironically Galaxy brain. Your fingers don’t get greasy and it lasts longer

Solomon: Fork

MC: Oh yeah I’m going to stab my crunchy foods and make them fall apart like an absolute absent minded dunce fool, clown, jester, like a monstrous moron, an idiot of Shakespearean proportions, a cretin

Diavolo: Uhm, you seem to forget that chips can also mean fries? And that’s probably what they were talking about haha

MC: I did not forget anything. I purposefully ignore the idea of using British vocabulary to do my part in helping it die out

•

Belphegor: An alarm clock except it’s set to every time

Leviathan: We touch

Solomon: I get

Diavolo: This feeling

•

Beelzebub: I was talking with my brothers yesterday and we decided the best way to own a guy who takes off his shirt to fight you is to pick his shirt up and put it on

Mammon: That might be one of the ultimate power moves

Simeon: Or pick it up and say “lift your arms up” and try to put it back on him

•

Leviathan: By day I appear to be no more than just an average run of the mill office worker, but when night time strikes! I’m crying alone in my bed

•

Solomon: I bought my friend an elephant for their room

They said “thank you”

I said “don’t mention it”

Mammon: Is there a joke here that everyone gets but I don’t?

Belphegor: Nobody tell them

•

Thirteen:

Them: why are you competing in our cooking show today?

Me: the government banned gladiatorial matches yet I yearn for glory in the arena

Solomon: I’m here to tell you gladiator matches are still a thing, pal

Thirteen: Hm. Interesting. The last time I tried to behead a man for prestige and the right to majesty, I was dragged out of the alleyway by three very unreasonable men of the law and I would like to know where you live

•

Diavolo: What do you call a snobbish criminal going down the stairs?

Lucifer: I don’t know. What?

Diavolo: A condescending con descending

Lucifer: Get out

MC: That was beautiful

•

Leviathan: Bitten by a radioactive cicada. Now all I do is sit in a tree and scream all day

•

Solomon: Self-care is slathering yourself in baby oil and sliding down the 7th lane in your local bowling alley so the mechanical pin setter will pick you up and take you to the forbidden place behind the bowling lanes where you can meet God but only on Tuesdays

•

Mammon: Security called me at work today and told me they saw me outside chasing a frog around on the security cameras. I wasn’t in trouble they just wanted to let me know they saw me, I didn’t catch him

•

Leviathan: Me wearing a blanket as a cloak, stirring my man’n’cheese in a dimly lit room: potion

•

Satan: When I say I’m “feral” it doesn’t always mean I’m angry, maybe I’m stupid and if you give me food you’ll earn my trust and I’ll follow you around

•

Asmodeus: Covered in blood for sexy reasons

Asmodeus: Also I just got stabbed

Asmodeus: Don’t suppose there’s anyone here willing to tenderly clean, stitch and bandage my wounds while calling me an idiot in an exasperatedly fond tone of voice is there?

•

Diavolo: Introducing a new alignment— chaotic lawful. I have a strict moral code but nobody can figure out what the hell it is

•

Mammon: My best feature is that I’m blindingly intelligent for about 30 seconds a day

Mammon: I do not get to choose which seconds, they are not consecutive

•

Satan: Okay I’m normal now I promise. Let me out of the case please

•

Leviathan: Power move: calling someone a coward in the middle of a fight while also running away from them as fast as you possibly can

Lucifer: Mammon ghost wrote this

Mammon: YO

•

Leviathan: “Are you a boy or a girl?”

I am the physical embodiment of suffering

[magics-neptunes-things]

Mockingjay - Part 8

Hi guys!

I'm sorry for the wait, I know that usually I give you the chapter on Friday, but I wasn't able to yesterday.

This one is a little darker, please be aware of that while reading it.

TW : Death, blood, injuries, grief.

Chapter before

Ona wakes up abruptly, a hand coming suddenly on her mouth to prevent her from shouting. She still is in the tree where she fell asleep a little earlier, while Teagan was supposed to stand guard. But it’s not him who is looking at Ona with undisguised anger.

It’s Lucy.

Eyes widened; Ona tries to move but Lucy doesn’t let her.

“What’s happening?” Ona whispers, Lucy’s hand always on her mouth.

“Did you kill him?” Lucy whispers-shout.

“What?”

Lucy’s voice is low, full of an anger that Ona doesn’t understand. Just like she doesn’t understand why Lucy is talking about. Ona tries to read more in Lucy’s eyes, but she can’t.

“What are you talking about?” the younger one finally says.

“Declan. Did you kill him?”

“What?” Ona frowns. “No, of course not.”

Lucy is still looking at her, but she finally removes her hand from Ona’s mouth. The latter takes advantage of it to look around them, looking for Teagan. But the young boy is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Teagan?” Ona asks.

But it doesn’t seem to be Lucy’s first interest. She seems so angry; Ona never saw her like this. She won’t say that she’s scared, but she’s definitely impressive like that. The situation is really mind blowing for Ona. She wanted so much to see Lucy one more time, but not like this.

“At the place where the Games began, there is a scoreboard. It says that you killed someone. If it wasn’t Declan, who was it?”

“The boy from the 5” Ona mumbles, not really wanting to remember that awful moment. “He was chasing Teagan at first and then he came back for us. I – I didn’t have any choice.”

Ona shivers and it has nothing to do with the cold. It is cold actually, but with the hoodie she’s wearing and the habit of the temperature, she was okay like this.

Lucy seems to think about Ona’s answer, looking at her while squinting her eyes. She seems furious. Ona can understand because she was pretty close to Declan, but there is no world where Ona could kill him.

“If it’s not you, who was it?”

Ona rolls her eyes and crosses her arms on her chest. Now that the surprise is passed, she has trouble keeping up with the way Lucy is talking to her.

“Your two girlfriends. He was with them at the lake, right? They pushed him in the water. I don’t know what is really inside the water, but he died almost immediately. Then there was this strange fog coming from the lake and I think it’s what killed Lilith too. I was in a house in the city with Teagan, we had time to run away. They were closer to the lake; Lilith didn’t get that chance. I guess Kayla didn’t explain things like this?”

When Lucy always seems to hesitate, Ona stands up a little bit more to face her. She doesn’t know what happened to Lucy for her to have doubts about her like that, but Ona doesn’t like it.

“If you don’t believe me, why don’t you look at the scoreboard? I’m pretty sure you know everything your friends do, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t show the score from the death’s people.”

“How convenient” Ona snorts.

They look at each other for several seconds. Ona feels sad and angry at the same time. She wanted to see Lucy one more time to have a good memory of her, not a fight about something like this.

“Who told you I killed Declan?” Ona asks finally.

“Kayla” Lucy answers only.

Kayla, or the only one of the trios from the lake who survived. It made Ona roll her eyes at the thought. Of course, it’s easier to accuse someone else of her betrayal. It makes Ona sick that Lucy chose to believe Kayla and not her.

She doesn’t know why Kayla was accusing her, though.

“Why would she say that?” Ona frowns softly.

“That is exactly my point.”

That icy tone, again. Ona bites her lips, not knowing what to answer to that. But she doesn’t look away when Lucy looks at her right in the eyes.

“Where is Teagan?” Ona asks again.

“He went to the river for some water. He’s not a very good guard if you want my opinion.”

“At least he believes me” Ona points out.

Lucy opens her mouth to answer but that is at this very moment that they hear someone walking in their direction. Ona could now recognize Teagan’s footsteps easily. She wanted to tell Lucy that it was him, but the older girl hurries to get out of her tree.

“Lucy!” Ona whispers.

She doesn’t hear Lucy’s answer or if she does, she even can’t see her since she jumps off the tree. Ona feels her heart breaking. This talk was worse than anything else in the world. She just has time to recompose her poker face when Teagan arrives.

“Where were you?” Ona asks him.

“I was thirsty. I didn’t think you’d wake up”

“You can’t leave like that” Ona answers maybe a little too harshly. “What if something happens to you and I’m not here?”

“I’m sorry?”

He seems a little surprised by Ona outburst, and the brunette takes a deep breath to calm herself. Teagan isn’t the reason for her fight with Lucy, he doesn’t have to deal with Ona’s bad mood.

“No, I’m sorry” Ona sighs softly. “Just tell me when you leave, okay?”

The young boy nods softly, smiling shyly at Ona. The girl smiles back at him, before looking at the sky. She is bored sitting on that tree to be honest, even if she knows it was what they decided with Alexia. But she doesn’t even know all the arena, even if Teagan gave her some information about it.

“I was thinking that we can make a reserve of food and water and go to the desert, what do you think? They won’t come to look for us there.”

After all, who can say to Ona that Lucy won’t come back with the other tributes? She’s not sure about anything anymore. She doesn’t want to explain to Teagan why she proposes that, but the boy seems happy about that idea. He proposes to go pick up some fruits while Ona goes for more water.

They even take some wood, with the lighter they found and the pan, they are even able to boil some water just in case. Without a second thought, they leave their tree to start walking towards the desert.

“I’m not sure that the starting point will be safe” Ona thinks out loud after several minutes. “Maybe we should take a detour”

Teagan doesn’t discuss this and follows Ona when she decides to stay close to the river during the walk. Lucy went to the starting point; she told her some hours before. Maybe it’s where she is now staying with her teammates. She wonders how many people Seth and Camden have killed since the beginning of the Games.

“Have you heard that?”

Ona frowns and turns in Teagan’s direction. She stops walking, trying to hear what Tegan might have heard.

“Wolves” she whispers after having heard them. “Let’s not stay here, come on.”

Even if she would rather cross the path of a wolf than Camden, she still wants to live as long as possible. They are not close to the mountain or even the snow, but after all no one can force wolves to stay where they are supposed to be. Plus, they might be hungry after several days.

“They seem close” Teagan mumbles, saying out loud what Ona didn’t want to think about.

“It’s okay. When we will be in the desert, they won’t follow us.”

She still walks a little faster though, her ears are attentive to any suspicious noise. Now she’s careful about human and animal sounds. Ona just really hopes that she won’t have to fight against snake or aggressive camels in the desert.

They were out of the forest now. Ona can see the buildings where they start the Games several days before from here. It’s just a long plain now, grass as far as the eye can see. Until she’s finally able to see what looks like some sand after. The bad news is that there is a big land dip between the grass and the sand.

The river falls into it, but Ona can’t hear the sound of the water falling in a lake below or even on the ground. The height must be appalling.

“We need to find a way to cross it” Teagan says.

Ona nods and looks around, but she doesn’t see anything who might help them. No bridge, no branch long enough to go on the other side.

“How deep is that hole?” Teagan asks, leaning a little to have a better view.

“Want to go see it by yourself?”

The male’s voice makes them both turn around and Ona feels her stomach drop. Camden and Seth are in front of them, both looking very scary. Camden has one of his knees hidden behind a big home-made bandage. It’s bloody. Ona doesn’t know who hurt him, but it doesn’t look good.

Just like their life right now.

In an instinctive way, Ona puts her arm in front of Tegan to make him go behind her. She knows it will be hard for her to protect him. Unlike last time, there isn’t any tree for her to hide him.

“Who hurted you, Sweetheart?” Seth asks, coming closer to Ona acting like he wants to touch her face.

“Go away” Ona grumbles, making a move to avoid his touch.

She looks for the knife attached to her backpack, taking it in her hand. She still knows she doesn’t have any chance, especially with two of them in front of her. But she still can hurt them too, making it easier for anyone else to kill them.

Maybe Lucy. By the way, where is she now? Did they kill her?

Her panic quickly goes down again when she reminds herself that she hasn’t heard any canon for a long time now. The last time it was when she killed that boy. She probably is alright.

“Are you really getting ready to fight?” Camden chuckles.

But Ona doesn’t answer. She looks at them with attention, ready to fight the first one who will try his chance. The worst possibility is that they both attack her at the same time, she doesn’t know she’s supposed to escape them in that case.

Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened. They just share a look at one point and run towards Ona and Teagan. It’s the kind of move and understanding coming after having trained it several times.

Teagan screams but Ona doesn’t say anything. Both men are fighting with their bare hands, even if Ona saw that they have weapons. Apparently, they don’t seem to think that they will need it to fight.

She’s not afraid about using her knife herself, protecting Teagan and herself as much as she can. She knows she can’t kill them, but if she hurts them enough, maybe they will have time to run away. Camden is the weaker one because of his injury, so Ona concentrates her attacks on him.

At some point, Teagan manages to escape the brawl, crawling to the backpacks Seth and Camden left on the floor.

But Seth sees him.

“Hey! He’s taking your hammer!” he shouts to Camden.

The boy turns around to look and Ona takes advantage of it to hit him on his injured knee with her knife. Hard.

“Teagan, run!” Ona shouts to the boy, over Camden’s howling of pain.

The hammer makes a metallic sound when Teagan lets it fall on the ground. It must be heavy. Enraged, Camden gives her a massive kick in her stomach while Seth chases Teagan. The hit cuts off Ona’s breath, preventing her from getting up.

Between Camden’s legs, she can see Teagan running, but it looks like he’s coming closer to them again. Ona doesn’t understand his move, until she sees him jumping on Camden’s back. He manages to make him fall, sadly on Ona. Ona can’t retain a whimper of pain.

“Enough! Throw them on the cliff!”

Seth is near them again. He seems to have had enough of this fight, maybe a little ashamed to have been threatened by a girl and a child.

After that, this is a mess of arms, kicks and shouts. Ona and Teagan are fighting for their life.

“Ona!”

Ona can hear Lucy’s voice and her head turns in the direction of the sound automatically. She’s even able to see her for half of a second before being thrown into the void, Teagan next to her.

“No!”

Lucy’s scream would probably have emotionalized every single person on earth, but it’s not Ona’s important point for now.

Ona managed to clutch at a root, several metres from the surface. Teagan didn’t have that chance. Grief burns her throat, and she has tears in her eyes, preventing her from seeing properly.

Her arms are burning too. After all those days without having eaten and slept enough, she doesn’t have the same strength as before.

There are grunts and noise of fights under Ona’s head. It seems like Lucy forgot all the thoughts she has about keeping herself safe with her alliance. Ona tries to ease the burning of her arms and shoulders by pushing on her legs, but the walls are dusty and the more she tries, the more pebbles and sand are falling under her.

She doesn’t want to give up though, wanting to catch Lucy when she falls. And maybe help her to reach the surface again.

But it surprisingly isn’t Lucy who falls almost two metres away from her. It’s Seth. Ona froze, looking at his body falling until she couldn’t see him anymore. Soon after, there are two shots of cannon. 

One for Seth. 

One for Teagan.

“Right, run away to your lying bitch, asshole!”

Lucy’s voice is shaking with what Ona thinks is anger. Ona wants to call the other girl, but she doesn’t have the strength to. She’s not even sure that Lucy is still here anyway.

At least she was able to see her one more time, Ona thinks. And she wasn’t angry this time. Closing her eyes, Ona let her forehead go against the wall. She knows she won’t last long. She just wants to visualise Lucy’s face one more time.

Lucy doesn’t know what pushed her to have a look at the cliff. She didn't realise that there were only two shots of cannon, not three. All she knows is that when she sees Ona, she feels like her heart is starting to beat again.

“Ona” she whispers at first, falling on her knees to see her better before getting into action again. “Ona!” she calls a little harder, not wanting to scare the other girl anyway.

They share a look when Ona raises her hand in her direction and Lucy can say that Ona doesn’t have any strength left.

“Okay, hold on. Hold on, please.”

She doesn’t let Ona answer anything before running to Seth and Camden’s backpack. She knows what is inside, but she doesn’t waste any time, she just flips them upside down to grab the rope she was looking for.

Lucy then runs to the cliff, terrified at the idea of Ona being not here anymore. She is barely holding it. But she is.

“Grab it” Lucy instructs, throwing a part of the rope to Ona.

The younger one wraps it around one of her arms, ignoring the burning against her skin. With her other arm, she grabs it and looks up again.

She can’t see Lucy anymore, but she can feel how much strength she’s putting in the effort to take her on the surface again. Ona feels like it’s taking an eternity and she’s pretty sure that she can feel Lucy’s strength getting low. Just when she wanted to tell her to just let her go, Ona can see grass again.

Ona lets go of the rope with one hand, grabbing the grass and the dirt while she pushes on the wall with her legs. The hope gives her suddenly more strength. With a last combined effort, Lucy and Ona manage to put Ona in security again. Or at least on the ground.

Lying on the ground, Ona tries to take her breath. The sky is grey under their head, and she doesn’t know if her breathing is hard because of Teagan’s death or the efforts she just put her body in.

“We need to move” Ona hears Lucy say. “I’m pretty sure Camden will come back with Kayla. I should have killed her earlier, why was I so stupid!”

While Ona sits, Lucy puts all the things she thinks they will need into a backpack. Teagan’s one having fallen with him.

“Can you walk?”

Ona can see Lucy’s concern in her eyes. She feels out of it, like if her head isn’t with her body anymore. Ona gets up, trying to ignore how her head spins at the movement. She doesn’t even realise that she’s falling, until Lucy catches her, passing her arm around her waist.

“Okay, we’re going to do things in another way.”

Ona looks at Lucy putting a bag on her stomach, before putting the other on Ona's back. Then she makes Ona climb on her back and starts to walk.

“Lucy…” Ona whispers, rocked by Lucy's quick walk.

“Sh. Just take deep breaths and don’t fall asleep, okay?”

Ona just hums, letting her head go into Lucy’s neck. Not falling asleep is harder than she thought. She feels lulled by Lucy’s movements and her scent.

At some point, Ona feels better enough to let the guilt be too big to let Lucy carry her like this for any longer. She kisses Lucy’s neck, smiling softly when she feels the goosebumps under her lips.

“I can walk” Ona finally says.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah”

Lucy stops to slowly put Ona on the ground again. She looks at her closely, looking at any sign that Ona wasn’t feeling good. But Ona does, or at least as much as she can with her injuries.

“Where are we going?”

Ona doesn’t recognize that part of the arena, she never came here before.

“To the mountain. If we get higher, we can see them better.”

Ona nods and lets Lucy grab her hand before starting to walk again. She loses track of time, only concentrating on not falling on a rock. And Lucy’s warm hand in hers. At some point, it starts snowing and Lucy takes them into a cave.

“I saw you had wood in your bag, I’m going to make a fire, okay?”

Ona nods. Lucy choses a part of the cave hidden from the enter, to avoid the wind. And Ona realises it a little later, not to be seen by someone else. Ona just stays here, looking at the light from the fire on the walls. She realises that she’s crying only when Lucy sits next to her.

Lucy puts her hand softly on Ona’s back and it’s enough for the younger one to break.

“I wanted to save him. I just couldn’t” she chokes between tears and sobs.

Teagan’s death is hard to reach for Ona. They spend almost all their time together in the arena. She knew they had only little chance, but in her head, Teagan always would outlive her. She imagined that she would give her life for him.

“Hey now, you did everything you could to save him. You saved him several times before today.”

Lucy’s voice is soft, softer than she ever was.

“It wasn’t enough” Ona whispers through her tears.

“It’s okay” Lucy whispers.

Lucy passes both of her arms around Ona waist, taking her against her to rock her softly. Ona doesn’t really understand the sweet nothing Lucy whispers into her ears while comforting her, to be honest. But Lucy’s voice is enough.

“I’m sorry I arrived too late to save you both” Lucy says at some point, when Ona stops crying. “I thought I was too late for you too”

Her voice is only a whisper now, barely stronger than the crackling of the fire in front of them.

“But then I saw you grabbing this root… I was never as relieved as at that moment. I thought I lost you forever.”

Ona sniffles and raises her head to look at Lucy. Until now she had her head on her shoulder, her eyes lost somewhere on the fire. She must look awful but Lucy cups her cheek with the most tender gesture ever and uses her thumb to wipe Ona’s tears.

“Even if I were dead, you wouldn’t have lost me.” Ona whispers.

Into Lucy’s eyes, Ona forgets everything. She forgets her injuries, her stomach who hurts like crazy. The grief of Teagan’s death and the fact that they now have mortal enemies, probably looking for them everywhere.

“My parents aren’t okay with me being gay” Lucy blurts suddenly. “That is why Jorge was the only one who came to say goodbye. They were ashamed of me being their daughter.”

“How can someone be ashamed of you?” Ona thinks out loud, before shaking her head softly. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I’m going to kiss you.”

And she does. They haven’t kissed for days now, the last time it was before the Games. The kiss is tentative, Lucy’s hand always on Ona’s cheek. But it’s enough to make Ona melts.

Ona presses her body against Lucy after several seconds, but the pain of her injuries are waking up. She can’t help but groan in pain, making Lucy let go of her very quickly.

“It’s nothing” Ona assures when she crosses Lucy’s panicked eyes. “I think I have some bruises somewhere.”

After that, Lucy looks closely at Ona for the first time. She already had seen her face and eyes injured earlier, when they talked in the tree. But now she can see the burns on Ona’s arms, where the rope was.

And of course, Ona took some violent kicks from her fight with Camden and Seth.

“I saw that you had some cream in your backpack, could they be used to those injuries?” Lucy asks.

“I don’t know. I received it from the sponsors, after my face’s injury.”

Lucy hums, reaching for it. Ona gives it to her, looking at Lucy who sniffs it.

“Mh. Maybe we will use it just to your face, just in case.”

Ona nods. She doesn’t want to die because she puts the wrong cream at the wrong place on her body. She wanted to take it back from Lucy’s hand, but the dark-haired girl hides it behind her back.

“Close your eyes” she says.

Ona rolls her eyes and obliges, letting Lucy put the cream on her face. She is soft and tender, and Ona feels her body relax a little bit at the touch. She could sleep right now.

“Who hurts you like this?”

It reminds Ona about Seth’s question earlier, but this time there is no fun behind it. It’s just genuine concern.

“The boy from the 5. I can’t remember his name.”

“Is he the one you killed?”

“Yeah”

Lucy stays silent after this, still taking care of Ona. She insists on seeing Ona’s other injuries, making the girl roll her eyes again. Lucy cleans Ona’s burning on her hand and puts some cold water on her stomach, where she got kicked by Camden.

“Now sleep” Lucy finally says when she’s fine with the care she gave to Ona.

Ona frowns and opens her mouth to talk, but Lucy silences her by putting a finger on her lips.

“Sleep. I’ll take care of you.”

“Wake me up in four hours if I’m still asleep” Ona asks.

“Sure” Lucy snorts.

She won’t do it; they both know it already. But Lucy only has to stroke Ona’s hair for two minutes before the girl is out of the world, feeling really safe for the first time since she left her District.

“This is the first time we are sleeping together” Ona mumbles into Lucy’s knee when she snuggles against her.

Lucy hums, still stroking Ona’s hair. She has a lot to ask to Ona, just like Ona probably has a lot to ask at her. They will talk tomorrow. Tomorrow it will be them against the rest of the world, but for now, Ona needs to rest.

Next Chapter

[respectthepetty]

Give me merch, BoC!

Before I freak out about colors in episode three of 4 Minutes, just know that if this was a time-traveling show on GMMTV, the cats in the claw machine would've been merch yesterday!

BoC, why don't you want our money?!

But even without making them merch, these cats made my day!

And it's all because Great gave Tyme the white one.

Tyme is color-coded black and Great is color-coded white.

So each cat represents them in this time-shifting story, and Great gave himself to Tyme by giving him the white cat.

And strangely enough, these color-coded boys won several cats which is a successful date, but also something something about several versions of themselves existing within the story . . .

But what really makes me happy is each cat has a heart in the other color on its side, so when held together, those heart patches form a dual-colored heart!

And although I think Tyme approached Great because he wanted information on Great's family, the boys got hit with a tiny blinding light of love right before they were supposed to kiss.

And Tyme did expose himself to Great instead of fighting him even though he could have easily overpowered Great, which is something we saw when Tyme fought Title.

Because this story is really about the gray area everyone is existing in.

When Win showed up the first time, Tonkla was guarded with a boundary firmly planted between them and Win was light.

But this episode, Tonkla removed his barrier, and let Win in, but Win, in his dark colors, definitely crossed a line he shouldn't have.

Win is a good guy.

And so is Korn.

But circumstances and choices change people.

And even the best people are capable of doing bad.

So it's interesting that Tyme has been positioned in black from the beginning even though he is a doctor.

And Great is positioned as white even though we have seen him run away from doing what's right several times.

Yet when Tyme went to ask Great out and Great confessed to seeing the future, Tyme was in gray as he shifts between the two colors.

Great's interactions with Tyme advance the clock a minute closer to 11:04 from 11:00, but the number four is special, as many people have pointed out because it represents death.

And Great keeps getting closer and closer.

So him throwing down his phone causing the number four ball to roll into the pocket was perhaps telling that it's not all Tyme moving the clock, but just like Win and Korn and their colors, Great's choices are moving the clock and impacting his life.

Doctors save lives, but we have been shown through the woman who tried to die by suicide and the patient this episode in Bed #4, that doctors also need to know when to listen and end a patient's suffering.

(Spare Me Your Mercy, I'm so ready for you and your color-coded boys in love to give us a story about these specific ethics! I'm going to watch you so hard!)

Tyme continues to say he isn't a doctor but a surgeon. Tyme doesn't listen to his patients, which is why Den is upset at him. And Tyme isn't listening to Great because if he was he'd hear exactly what is being said - "these symptoms happened when [the] heart stopped"

Tyme needs Great to remind him, that regardless of the past, it's important to listen and care, and Great needs Tyme to listen to his sad rich boy stories. They need each other to save each other. Triage, is that you homie in a trench coat and mustache glasses?!

But more importantly, they need each other to save each other's hearts! Great needs Tyme to literally save his life by saving his heart, but Tyme was hardening his heart. He had stated several times that he is in his career for the money, but Great reminded Tyme that money was irrelevant if the love was missing with his story of a 1,000 baht toy. They have both good and bad in them, but they need the other color-coded person to be complete. They need the other person to live.

Since I still believe Tyme is the one having cardiac arrest in the first episode, if one of them actually gives up his heart to save the other, I'm gonna be unwell about it.

Random Thoughts:

The friend calling Tyme a "pale guy, very handsome, and kinda brooding" hit me personally because I call characters who are black color-coded Black Brooders and Tyme is the Black Brooder in this story.

Great seeing the message on the tea cup change from "Don't forget to get your wound checked at the hospital" to "Can you forgive me, Great?" has me thinking this won't just be about Tyme trying to get dirt on Great's family and Great being upset about. That question feels heavier. That question feels like both their lives are changed by Tyme.

The female patient who experiences the same symptoms as Great was wearing white and black when she was being interviewed, but when Great envisioned a woman on the bed, red lights were flashing, like they were meeting while coding.

The way the red reflects on Great's shirt in the car makes it look like a heart on his sleeve when he looks at Tyme.

MY BOY MIO!

[silence-burns]

Just A Prank

Fandom: Fast and Furious

It'd been a while since Han had a chance to meet with so many familiar faces. With the sun high in the sky, and the smell of barbecue in the air, it was almost possible to enjoy it all.

He tried his best to ignore all the photos being taken of him by Tej and Roman enjoying themselves a little too much.

“You did hear me when I told you that I don't need all this?” Han asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“Shhh, let the geniuses work. You're coming back to life in style!”

“Your silly dating app is no magical tool.”

“Oh no, no, pretty boy, the magicians are all in there, trust me,” Roman chuckled, not looking up from Han’s phone.

The day was too nice to stain it with pointless arguments, so Han turned back to his beer. His drink was slowly becoming lukewarm, both the sun and his warm palm working to heat it up.

He smiled to himself when he noticed Dom and Letty arrive in the driveway. Their boy was already running halfway through the yard. Han could've sworn it was only yesterday when he was taking his first steps. He made a mental note to visit the area more often. He had many reasons to.

“And what might this be? The lone wolf, drinking himself unconscious before the main course even arrives at the table? That's not a good look on you, Han.”

He glanced up at you and the beer froze halfway to his lips. You’d managed to sneak up on him, but no matter how many times it happened, his heart always skipped a few beats.

“I'm glad that being fashionably late is always a good look on you, then,” he replied through a tight throat, wondering whether you could hear the sudden rasp in his voice.

“How sweet. Good to know that one thing hasn’t changed.”

The smile you offered him blinded him more than the sun behind your back, but before his brain unfroze, Roman popped up right next to him, pushing the phone into Han’s hand.

“60 seconds on the app and look how successful you already are! The more the merrier, but I'd still suggest looking through this part in their profiles, just in case—...”

The rest drifted from Han's mind the moment he noticed your eyes looking down on his screen. There weren't any obvious changes on your face, but he saw the tension in your shoulders.

“Have fun,” was the only thing you said before you walked away from his spot to greet the rest of the ever growing family. Many voices overlapped, but he still only could hear yours.

Roman was already gone, unaware of what had transpired. He drifted off to the barbecue, acquiring a plate and a fork from somewhere Han couldn’t see.

Han put his beer down. He’d lost interest in it, and conceded the fight for its temperature to the sun.

The day wasn't supposed to go like this. It'd been a while since he last saw you. The time away had only made him miss the missions when the two of you paired up together more. Even if nothing ever happened, he could feel the invisible pull, as if gravity itself wanted to push him closer to you.

Getting it out of his head was a difficult task, and it only felt worse the closer he was to you.

Hours passed, and even though Han enjoyed the party and catching up with everyone, one thought at the back of his head wouldn't let him relax. He'd already turned his phone off, because dealing with the constant meaningless notifications was beyond his patience, but the harm had already been done. He could feel it in the way you made sure to be busy when Han approached, and how the only times you looked in his direction were during polite but group conversation that bounced from one topic to another.

It’d taken Han all of his self control not to run after you when he noticed you finally walking to the side, probably to lug a new crate of beer to the tables.

The evening sun was painting long shadows behind the house, but you still noticed Han following you.

“You can take the second one, if you're so eager to help.” You nodded to the side before walking past him.

Han took half a step to the left, blocking you ever so slightly.

“It was a misunderstanding,” he blurted quietly. He could've found better words to put everything back in place, but none came to him in the past few hours. “Roman was just being an ass. It's a very natural state to him.”

“I don't know what you're talking about. As far as I'm concerned, you are an adult capable of making your own choices. Have your fun, enjoy the world. That's what life is all about, right?”

The smile you presented him was just as wide as he remembered it, but it held no joy that used to pull him in like a moth to a flame.

“Life is more than shallow enjoyment. Especially when you bind yours together with another one.”

You snorted under your breath. The crate was not getting any lighter and your arms began to ache, so you put it down next to your feet. As much as you wanted to move on and get back to the party, it didn't look like you were getting a chance soon, unless you decided to walk directly through the blooming bushes next to the path.

“Han, we've been through this already. Just because we've—...”

“I was a fool for not making myself clear before, but I intend to fix it.” He took half a step closer without taking his eyes off you. “There is no reason for me to look at any of those strange apps Roman insisted on, because no one I actually want to find is in there. They are right in front of me and I have been too blind to see them.”

You blinked. He was still there, staring at you with a complicated mixture of hope and worry painted over his face. It was a strange sight coming from a person usually so composed, but a part of you was relieved to hear him.

“You could've just asked me to dinner.”

Han leaned down to effortlessly pick up the crate by your feet. “I could and I will. How about we start with a beer first?”

[butchcarmy]

Blood Orange (Ch 2: The Bathroom)

Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18, MDNI)

Rating: E (5.7k)

links: fic playlist, pinterest board, ao3 link, ch 1

Chapter Summary: No more fucking your boss. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself, but he doesn’t make it easy, even as you find yourself wanting to scream. Somehow it all falls away when you lower yourself to your knees before him. You don’t know if there’s any stopping this anymore. 

Content Tags: work sex, blow jobs, mouth fucking, CUM PLAY, dom/bossy carmy, coworkers with benefits, carmy being difficult, mental illness, they/them reader, gender neutral reader, the usual

A/N: WHEW. It’s here! Thanks for waiting y’all. I think I embarrassed myself writing this one (flushed emoji). It’s ramping up. Next chapter is gonna be big one. Let me know what you guys think, and enjoy! <3

Before you go to work the next morning, you make yourself come on your fingers. It would've been twice if you had more time. 

You open your eyes waking from a dream with his ghostly blue eyes and low voice, and you already know you're wet before you even touch yourself. The pads of your reaching fingers chase the tender spot Carmy stroked inside of you, but they don't quite make it. Of course they don't. 

Fingering yourself eases the ache for a little while. On the early morning transit with headphones over your ears, you still manage to find yourself aching for him. The music doesn't cover up the sound of his voice, and you catch yourself grimacing in the faint reflection of the dirty metro windows. 

This is not a good way to start your second day at work.

Since you left the walk-in yesterday, Carmy's been following you around like a mosquito in the summer, whizzing around your head, buzzing in your ears. You can't rid your thoughts of him. When you close your eyes, you're trapped in the fridge with him, again, and his fingers are deep inside you. 

Fuck. You're standing in front of the restaurant, willing yourself to go in. Just stop it, you think to yourself. 

You really should be more mad at him. He technically never apologized for insulting you, but you suppose you didn't expect him to in the first place. You didn't usually get apologies at places like this, from people like him. You don't want to get in the bad habit of expecting good things from broken people.

No more fucking your boss, you think resolutely to yourself, and that's the thought you meditate on as you open the door. 

By this time yesterday, there were already a couple of people floating around the kitchen. Today, you find dim lights and silence. Your footsteps feel too loud on the white linoleum as you walk to the lockers to drop off your stuff. You can’t pretend to understand the schedule yet.

“Carmen?” You pace around again as you secure your apron with a tie. No response. Surely he's here, at least. Someone had to open the place. 

You take a couple more steps when you hear his voice. 

“No, I'm not—that's not what I was sayin’.” The direction of his voice sounds like it's coming from his office. “Of course I miss him. Sugar—” A pause. “I know. Yeah. It's bullshit.” He laughs then, you think. You can't measure how genuine it is. “You're bullshit. Look, I'll call you back later, okay? And I'll—yeah, I'll look at it. Promise. Yeah. Bye.”

It's quiet after that. You're standing there, not sure what to do with yourself when you hear footsteps. Sure enough, Carmy pops out of the office, and you catch just a glimpse of something haunted in him before surprise takes over.

“Hi,” you say at the same time he says, “Jesus Christ.”

“How long have you been here,” he asks, as you go, “That's an interesting way to pronounce my name.”

“Um,” you start, and he stares at you blankly, unreactive to your joke. Too early, you guess. “I just got here.”

“Okay. Cool. Uh…” Anxiety radiates off of him, making his hands fidget and run through untamed hair. Not that you were looking at his hands at all. “You’ll be doin’ prep again.”

“Alright.” You expected as such. You’ll probably be on prep for the rest of the week, if not the month. That’s how most places go, but this isn’t most places. 

“Your station was dirty when you left yesterday.” You walk up to your station, and it’s spotless. “I had to clean it before I left.”

“Ah. I’m sorry about that,” you apologize quickly. I was preoccupied with other things, you think bitterly to yourself, thinking of locked doors and heated kisses. Not that you’ll mention it. “I’ll make sure to clean it this time.”

“Prep’s gonna be a bit different today,” he says, completely ignoring your apology. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from snapping. “You’re gonna inspect produce, and then you’ll prep the stock again. Correctly this time.”

“It was nearly perfect, I just misplaced it,” you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah, nearly.” Looks like he heard you this time. Asshole. He places a box of onions on your station, rattling the table slightly. “Do I have to tell you how to sort out the bad ones from the good ones?” You’re honestly not sure if he means that as a jab, but the way he says it makes your insides sizzle with irritation.

Don’t take it personally, you remind yourself. Don’t. Take. It. Personally. 

“How about you show me just in case? Just so we’re on the same page.” It’s a wonder how calm you keep your voice. To your surprise, Carmy doesn’t roll his eyes, doesn’t sigh, he just nods and proceeds. Every time you think you’ll predict him properly, he does the opposite. 

You follow the line of his callused finger pointing to brown splotches on some of the onions. Intently, studiously, you examine the dark spots (indicative of mold), the sprouts (initial stages of deterioration), and the mushy areas (a sign of decreasing freshness). He’s talking about details as he seems to do when it comes to food, even elaborating on the farming process, but you don’t quite pick up that part. You just pay attention to the parameters you need to follow.

No more fucking your boss, you remind yourself again, because you catch yourself aching at the sight of his fingers. Your eyes have a hunger of their own, flickering up and down his muscular arms. God damnit. Maybe there’s another reason you can’t quite pay attention today. 

“Are you listening?” Carmy’s pointed question snaps you out of it. Fuck. You hope he didn’t catch you staring at his fingers again.

“If I can save it and just chop off the bad parts, then I should,” you regurgitate on instinct. “Those are the best ones to use for the stock. Otherwise, I should just toss it.”

For a split second, all he does is fix you with his focused stare. You feel the intensity of it in your chest, your beating heart fluttering with its weight. No matter how many times you scold yourself for finding him attractive, your eyes can’t ignore what’s right in front of them. You find yourself counting his moles. 

“I caught you staring,” he murmurs, “for real this time.”

“I—uh—” Your eyebrows are so raised you’re sure they’re bound to shoot off your warmed face. He’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. You weren’t going to mention yesterday, and after your first interaction this morning, you were sure he wasn’t going to, either. Guess you were wrong again.

“I’ll be in the back if you need help. The others should be here soon.” He’s moving on without giving you a chance to recover. Your brain can’t process the shock. “Just call if you need anything."

Before you get a chance to scrounge up anything to say, you’re alone in the kitchen again. 

This time I'm really gonna do it, you fume internally. Because you have a healthy amount of anger management, you don’t let yourself continue that thought.

Sydney is the third person to show up after you and Carmy. You give her a nod and a thin smile as she walks in, and she waves back. Soon after she arrives, the others trickle in one by one. As you're learning to expect, the quiet never lasts for long. 

There are tasks circling you just like yesterday that you don't fully grasp yet. Everyone seems to be instinctively following their own schedule, their circadian rhythm matched to the chaotic ecosystem of the kitchen. It’s just as suffocating as it was yesterday. You remind yourself that as a new hire, you don't need to understand the madness yet. Nonetheless, an invisible pressure presses down on you. 

“Hey, d'you mind telling me where this produce goes?” A triple stack of filled containers sits heavy in your arms. With Sydney out of the kitchen, Marcus is your next safest option in terms of coworkers. His head flicks up from where he was focused on kneading dough. A streak of white flour is across his nose. 

“Oh, that one's bottom shelf, near the back.” He claps his dusty hands together, flour falling between them like snow. “Here, I'll just show you. You know where the walk-in is?”

With Marcus, it doesn't feel like there are any stupid questions. It's a gift you don't take for granted, especially around here. You let him lead you to the fridge again, even though you remember where it is. It doesn't hurt. 

“Thanks. I'm, uh, still having a hard time figuring out where stuff goes,” you say after you put the produce away. 

“It’s cool. It's only your second day, right?” You nod. “Just takes time. Don't sweat it. You ever work in a restaurant before?”

“Yeah, a couple of times.”

“Then you know what you're gettin’ into.” That makes you laugh. 

“Sorta.” You shrug. “To be honest with you, I just need money, and I like cooking enough, so…now I'm here.” You're not quite as honest with how desperate your situation was on the verge of coming, but it's fine. Not really the time and place for it anyway. 

“I gotcha. That's how it was for me too, actually.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Well, that's how I started at McDonald’s. That was a while ago now.”

“I see. It's better here, I hope.”

“Hard to say,” he says, but there's a little smile on his face. “For the most part, Michael was cool, but—”

“Michael!” You blurt out, startling the both of you. “Holy shit, I'm sorry. I've just been trying to remember the name of the previous owner for forever now and—wow, sorry. I didn't mean to shout.”

“It's fine.” Marcus has this amused expression, but it dissolves quickly. “You met him?”

“I did. I came here a couple of years ago when I first moved. Just once, but—anyway, what's his deal?”

“His deal?”

“Yeah, like, why'd he give the restaurant away? Carmy said he didn't want it anymore.”

“Oh.” You can't read the way Marcus’ face shifts. “That's what he said?”

“...Yeah?”

“I see. Okay. Uh…” He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I know how this sounds, but just try not to bring Mike up for now. It's still kind of a sore subject.”

“Ah, my bad.” Your brain instantly supplies stories of estranged families, sibling spats, and stolen money. You suppose it's a sour sort of relationship—something you're intimately familiar with. “Can I ask what happened, or…?”

“I'll tell you later,” he replies evasively. “You know what else they got you training on today?”

“No idea,” you answer honestly. The nosy part of you wants to hear more about the Berzatto family, but the responsible part of you reminds you to cool your jets. “Carmy just told me I was on produce. Know where he's at? I peeked into his office, but he wasn't there.”

“Oh, he just left.” Your blank stare makes him elaborate. “He's off doing Carmy things.”

“Doing Carmy things?” Looks like the person in charge has abandoned you yet again.

“Business stuff, probably.” Marcus shrugs. “He does that sometimes. He probably won't be back for a while, so I can help you with training for now if you want.”

“That would be great.” There's a remark on the tip of your tongue about poor management, but you hold it. “Is Carmy a better boss, at least?”

“Compared to Michael?” You recognize sadness in Marcus’ pinched brows, even if it's only momentary. “I dunno. It hasn't been long, but this place has been running more smoothly since he started doing things.” Your shocked expression makes him laugh briefly. “I know, it used to be worse if you can believe it.”

“I'm not sure that I can,” you admit. 

. . . . .

The next several days at work continue to test your patience. While Carmy keeps you on prep, keeping your tasks simple, he continues to find ways to keep you on edge. You stiffen up every time he enters the kitchen, waiting for him to point out yet another mistake. 

Chef, this cut's too uneven. Chef, you're taking too much time on this. Chef, you should’ve cut this part off. Chef, you’re creating too much waste. 

Yes, Chef, you always reply, even as his comments become more and more grating. A childish part of you wants to do a worse job out of spite, but another part of you is hungry for his approval far more than you would ever admit. You wonder if he's this tough on everyone. 

The incident in the walk-in does not get mentioned again. A childish voice in you wonders if Carmy has forgotten about it. Of course he hasn’t, but every time he critiques you, you wonder about the Carmy who kissed you. You wonder what that Carmy's thinking, because you have no clue. 

Has he been thinking of you, too?

This is how things should be, you remind yourself after you touch yourself for the fourth night in a row to the thought of him. Your fingers are wet, and your wrist is embarrassingly sore. I can't have sex with my boss again. I just can't. 

Would it be different if he also touched himself to thoughts of you?

You desperately suck your own cum off your fingers, and you wish it were his fingers instead. It doesn't taste the same. 

The bright lights are irritatingly bright when you come in this morning. It looks like you're the first person here again, other than Carmy. You hear his irritated voice as soon as you enter, which is clearly a good sign. 

“I appreciate you thinking of me, I do. I do. It's just—” He sighs. Looks like he's having another phone call. “I can't come back. Not right now.” Silence. “No, uh, won't happen for a while, I think. The place's fucked.” A shaky breath. “What? What did you say?

“The head chef asked about me?” Carmy's voice has gone tight. “I see. Of course he said that. No, it's fine.” Pause. “...I know what they've been saying. I figured they'd look down on me.” His laugh is hollow and painful. “Look, I got shit to do. Thanks for asking me, but it's a no. I can't.” Another pause, drawn out and tense. “Sure. Bye.”

After he hangs up, you hear him muttering to himself. You can't pick out any of the words other than the curses, but it sounds bad. As you put your things away, you silently pray to the abstract idea of a god to give you both strength of patience. Seems like you'll need it today. 

“Morning,” you tentatively greet him when he sees you. He's not surprised by your presence today, it seems. He nods back. 

“Morning.” His eyebags are dark with a lack of sleep. Upon closer inspection, his whole everything screams sleep deprivation, perhaps a bit more so than usual. His messy hair seems particularly unkempt today. “You're doing prep again today.”

“I figured.” 

“You need to get better about cleaning your station.” His words are full to the brim with irritation. “I keep having to clean it after you.”

“I thought I was—” You stop. Calm down, you think, but it's getting harder and harder to repeat. “Sorry. I didn't realize.”

“I told you the other day that it was dirty. Were you even paying attention?”

“Of course I was!” Annoyance bubbles over inside of you, potent and unbridled. Carmy barely reacts to your raised voice. Somehow, that pisses you off more.  The cap on your contained anger has popped off, and there's no fitting it back on. “Are you always like this towards your employees?”

“Like what?”

“Like an asshole?” You're too irritated to hold yourself back. 

“Depends. Are you always like this with your boss?” He retorts immediately. 

“I don't usually have sex with my boss, so no, I suppose not,” you respond stupidly, and that makes him go dead silent. He narrows his eyes, fixes you with his gaze. Like you're a new problem that needs solving or something like that.

God damnit, you think to yourself. Why'd you have to say that?

“You've been thinking about it.” The air feels thicker, suddenly.

“I never said that.”

“Then why did you mention it?” Shit. “You said you were going to do better.”

“And I have been. I've been trying to do everything you've been telling me to do.” You don't know why you take a step towards him. “You said you were gonna be nicer.”

“And I have been,” he echoes, and his sincerity makes you roll your eyes. 

“Bullshit! You've been nit-picking me all week!”

“We have standards here, and you need to learn how to follow them. That's all.”

“You're right! I'm learning,” you argue, throwing exasperated hands up in the air. “Cut me some fucking slack!”

“Then learn. Improve.” He slams a hand down on the aluminum surface next to you, enclosing you partially in. Being this close to him, you can really see how dark his dark circles are. You could easily move to the side if you wanted to, but something in you stays put. “There's no excuse for a dirty workspace in a kitchen. I thought you would know that already.”

“I'm so fucking sorry, chef,” you spit back with about as much venom as you can muster. Which, right now, is a lot. 

That shifts something inside him. You see it flash across his face—surprise, anger, and then…something else.

“Dirty work station and a dirty mouth,” he murmurs. His voice is lower, quieter, and it sounds just like how it did in the walk-in. You hate how that change instantly makes your heart pick up speed. “You think you get a pass to act like this because of what happened in the walk-in?”

“You motherfucker,” you hiss, meeting his glare with your own. “So now you're going to acknowledge it? And for the record, I get to act however the fuck I want. Especially with someone like you.”

“Someone like me.” He doesn't ask you to elaborate. He just laughs, breathy and condescending, and he's so close you can feel his breath fan across your face. “You think you're above all this, don't you?”

“What?” The question takes you so off guard that it almost dissipates the strange mix of anger and arousal simmering in your gut. 

“I know it doesn't feel good to have to take orders from someone you hate, but here's the thing. You have to.” He's not smiling, but you swear he's getting some sort of sick satisfaction from all this. Why else would he be saying any of this shit?

“I could leave right now if I wanted to,” you threaten him. “You won't be able to find anyone else that wants to work in this shithole of a place.”

“You're right. You could leave if you really wanted to.” His eyes narrow curiously at you. “Then why haven't you?”

You’re well within your right to leave already—it checks all the boxes. Chaotic work environment. Awful management. General workplace misconduct. Unprofessionalism between coworkers. You suppose you're partially to blame for that last one, but still. 

If it's bad, I'll just find another job, you told yourself. You're not sure why you're not listening to your own advice. The simple truth of the matter, though, is that other jobs won't have him. They won't have the man that's been keeping you up at night, the man that you want to simultaneously devour and destroy. They won't have Carmen Berzatto, and for some reason, that's all it's going to take.

You don't understand yourself. It scares you, but not enough. Not enough to leave.

“...I don't know why I haven't left yet,” you say quietly after a while. “I have no clue.”

“I see.” If he's dissatisfied with your answer, he doesn't show it. “Then for the time you're here, let's make one thing clear.”

“What is it now?” You sigh.

“I'm in charge here,” he whispers. His other hand is on the counter now. You're completely blocked in. “I'm the one who runs this place, so you're going to be good and listen to me when I speak.”

“You're not really giving me a lot of incentive, chef.” You lower your gaze to the counters next to you. “Maybe if you gave me something to work with.” You don't mean for it to come out as suggestive as it does, but with him surrounding you like this… 

“Incentive?” He brings a hand to your face, tucking his fingers under your chin to pull your gaze back to him. His touch is achingly gentle, but it forces it to look straight into his eyes. Your fidgety gaze catches glances of the dark blue speckles that border his pale iris. “Hey,” he whispers, “look at me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart's pounding like sprinting feet thudding on concrete. You can't place what feelings are excitement or anxiety or both, but maybe no separation exists. Shutting your eyes was a weak attempt to temporarily block him out, but now all you can focus on is the sensation of his rough hand on your hot face. 

Hesitantly, you open your eyes to face him. Ice blue and dark circles. His intense stare is difficult to match, but you try. 

“What do you want from me?” You ask quietly. 

“I want you to clean your station. Think you can do that?”

“Don't patronize me. Of course I can. I just—happened to forget.”

“Hm.” He smiles briefly. It's just a bit mocking. “You don't have a good track record so far, so you'll have to prove it to me.”

“...And how would I do that?”

“Depends,” he replies vaguely. “Depends on what you want.”

“What I want? I thought you were supposed to be in charge.”

“When I touched you, you told me you wanted to touch me.” The realization clicks in your head. “Do you still want that?”

You hesitate. Memories of the walk-in flood in. You remember the silhouette of his tight jeans over his bulge, and you ache. You shouldn't say yes. You really shouldn't. A distant voice says, you don't want to do this. What have you been telling yourself? This is a bad idea.

Unfortunately, it's far past a matter of want anymore. It's a matter of need.

“Yes,” you whisper back. Your fate is sealed. “I do.”

That's how you find yourself in the cramped bathroom with him. It's dark with one of the lightbulbs having gone out, making it feel even smaller. An eerie green cast coats the room. 

“You're going to show me that you can listen. That you can clean up after your messes.” He's leaned up against the wall, broad hands unbuttoning his pants. Your eyes shamelessly zero in on the motion. “Think you can do that much?”

“Of course I can,” you reply, but it comes out a lot softer than intended. 

“Good.” You force your eyes away from the outline of his bulge in his boxers to look at his face. His darkened eyes are trained on you. “Get on your knees.”

Oh, you think. So this is how it's gonna go.

You wish you could say that you hesitate even a little bit, that there’s even a shred of contemplation left in you. However, there isn't any of that remaining. Obediently, you fall to your knees, resting them against the cold, hard bathroom floor. You're at eye level with his unbuttoned jeans. Slowly, you raise your eyes to look at him. 

His downturned face is framed by wild strands of hair. Looking down at you casts darker shadows across his face, but not enough to hide his expression. It's an odd mix of hunger and what you think to be admiration. Surely not, but that's immediately the thought that comes to mind. 

“Waiting for directions, chef,” you murmur. 

“Mm. Right,” he says, like he was lost in thought. “You look better like this.”

“Watch it,” you warn him. “I could still bite your dick off.” To that, he just briefly smiles, and then it's gone.

He's pulled his black pants down just enough to let his clothed bulge hang over the waistband. The sight of it goes straight to the simmer starting in your gut. You watch his veined hand disappear into his boxers. He's doing this far too slowly for your taste. 

Finally, he pulls out his cock, nearly completely stiffened, and you can't deny the way you begin to salivate. 

You were right. It's big, though not just in length. His cock is thick. You immediately know you won't be able to take the full length of him into your mouth, but what fits is going to be a stretch. You're already imagining how those bulging veins are going to feel against the flat of your tongue. 

“Use your mouth for something other than talking back to me. Make me come,” Carmy orders quietly. “Enough direction for you?”

“Shut the hell up,” you mutter, ignoring the feeling of the growing heat inside you, and you pull the reddened, shiny tip of his cock between your lips. 

His pre-come mixes with the saliva on your tongue. You savor the taste of his salty musk, suckling slowly, and you hear him exhale shakily above you. Looks like you've been given something of an opportunity to get him back for the walk-in. Not repayment—payback. The distinction is important. 

When you pull back, thin strings of spit connect the pink head to your glistening lips. One of your hands moves to hold the base of his cock as you close the gap again. You drag your tongue down the side of his length, licking the thick vein you were eyeing earlier. You feel him twitch. 

“Do that again,” he breathes. Without question, your tongue retraces its path, running back over the line of spit it created. That gets you a quiet, strangled moan, and it's music to your ears. 

“Is this part sensitive?” You ask as you stroke the vein with your thumb. You suck your way down the vein again, making small, wet seals of pleasure. 

“Somewhat.” He sounds good like this, breathless and flustered. A smile twitches on your lips. You lick across the inside of your hand, wetting it before lazily curling it around his cock. He slides effortlessly in your grasp. 

“You gonna come already?” You can't help but tease. He's surprisingly reactive, more so than you would've thought. It's not that you're complaining—it's not that at all. The sound of his low groans is making you drip. 

“Hah—no. You'll have to work harder than that.” You feel a hand pushing back your hair, and that makes you raise your head towards him. His touch is surprisingly gentle. You watch the movement of his lips when he speaks. “Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue.”

You can't quite figure out what it is about all of this that makes you submit. Just moments ago, you wanted to wring your hands around his throat. It was far too easy to abandon your anger and kneel in front of him. Maybe it's the incomprehensibly part of you that undeniably needs his validation. Maybe it's the soft, low tone of his voice, gentle yet commanding. Either way, it has you obeying with a thought in your mind. 

You do as he says. You part your lips and extend your tongue. As your eyes flutter upwards towards him, you're struck with the impression that you must look obscene. 

“Perfect,” he whispers, and just the one word sends something of a euphoric rush through you. “Doin’ so good for me.” 

You soak up the praise, basking in the warmth of it. Then, Carmy spits onto your tongue, and his saliva slides towards the back of your mouth. 

You can't hide your surprise. Your breath hitches, but you don't say anything. Fuck, that should've made you angry, but it just made your clit throb painfully hard. 

He drags his thumb down your tongue, slow and sensual. You have half the mind to suck on it until he glides the head of his cock on your tongue, leading it into the heat of your mouth. 

“Ah—” You lose the words you were going to say, along with the empty space in your mouth. The tip of his cock's nearing the back of your throat. You breathe shakily through your nose. You were right again—you can't take him fully in. It's enough of a stretch as it is. 

“Fuck, that's it…” Carmy sighs. “Just like that…”

His hand holding your hair turns into a tighter grip as you begin sucking up and down his cock. It's an awful mess, the size of him forcing spit to drip down your chin. It's not just that, though. He's thrusting his cock back into your mouth quicker and quicker. You wish he would slow down so you could lean back and suck on his dribbling tip, but his hand has you anchored. 

Time slows as he starts fucking your mouth. Your hands fall to your hands. Your knees are starting to hurt. You care surprisingly little about that fact, instead opting to care about rubbing your clit as quickly as possible. When you get your hands under your underwear, you find your whole pussy already smeared in wetness. You've seeped through the fabric. 

When he pulls his cock out of your mouth (or rather, when he tugs you off), you think he's going to give you a new order. Or that he's going to say something. You don't realize what's really happening until it's too late. 

You watch him bring a hand to his cock. He strokes it twice, keeping his hand tight in your hair, and with a low groan, he comes.

With his hand on you, you can't move away. Not that you try. When the first glob of cum streaks your cheek, you freeze. All you can do is pause as he comes on your face. Even your hand under your pants has frozen, your palm pressed up tight against your pulsing clit. 

With each rope of cum across your face, you feel yourself throb. Carmy is a sight to behold as he comes, long-lashed eyes falling shut with his parted, gasping mouth. He's jaggedly fisting his cock as he just keeps coming. You feel the cum starting to drip down the slopes of your skin, even your lips. 

By the time he's come down, he's left your face an absolute mess. Your jaw feels heavy, and his cum is hot against your swollen lips. You've come down as well, and it's left you with the irate realization that he just came all over your face without asking.

“You could've at least told me you were gonna come on my face,” you snap. Your cheeks are burning. Your argument feels weak with how worked up you feel over watching and feeling him come, but the irritation is still very real. 

“Clean your station, chef,” he responds, infuriatingly smug even as he catches your breath. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Are you kidding me?” Of course. That's what this all was. A fucked up lesson, a twisted sort of discipline. 

“I'm not.” He uncurls his fist from your hair. “Stand up—your knees must hurt.”

You pause for a second before you shakily get back up on your legs. One minute he's messily fucking your mouth, and the other, he's worrying over your sore knees. He continues to become more and more confusing. 

“You're gonna make me clean up your mess.” You catch your face in the small, shitty rectangular mirror hanging on the wall. God, are you a filthy sight, cum and spit all over your face. 

“I had to clean up yours for the past week, so yeah.” He's zipped himself back up. He's clean, not a drop of anything on him. Unlike the mess parading itself on your face. At least there's not any in your hair. 

“This is not the same. This is—” You frustratedly search for the right words. He's remaining as stoic as ever. “You didn't even kiss me,” you blurt out, and as soon as you say it, you regret it. 

Carmy stills. You can't tell what he's thinking with his unmoving expression. You're sure he's about to insult you again, but then he’s leaning in and sealing his lips against yours. 

You're stunned. A small noise escapes you as he kisses you deeply, thoroughly. His tongue drags up a trail of cum and spit up your chin and back into your mouth. Or back into his. You're unsure, with the way they're all blending together. 

“There,” Carmy murmurs against your lips. When he pulls back, you see his tongue running across his lips, collecting the pearlescent sheen that was on them. 

“Um—” You start and immediately stop. You’re speechless. 

“Now clean up.” You hear the sound of distant company. Your other coworkers must be arriving now. “I expect improvement now, chef. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” you reply bitterly. “I suppose I met your expectations, then?”

“Sure. Closely enough, anyway.” Potent aggravation hits you like a cast iron pan. He drags his thumb in one last infuriating line across your cheek. He sucks it into his mouth and cleans it off. “Don't take too long. I have a lot planned for you today.”

Without waiting for a response, Carmy leaves. He leaves you alone in the shitty bathroom with a now flickering lightbulb, left to clean his cum on your face with water, hand soap, and thin paper towels. You don't know if you've ever been so angry before. 

The anger doesn't make the arousal go away. You rub your needy clit to orgasm, your back pressed up against the wall like Carmy's just a moment ago.

As you come with Carmy's cum slowly trailing on your face, you wonder if there is any coming back from this. If there's anything left to be done to stop whatever's happening. You can't come up with any solutions or suggestions. Only one thing is undeniably clear:

You hate Carmen Berzatto, and you're already thinking of ways to get his cock in your mouth again soon. 

~

taglist: @zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @thehouseofevangelista @alastorssimp @talas-starlight @jmamas92

[wonwoosthetic]

when will we get a new chapter for minnie 🫶🏼

a/n: now! ˙ᵕ˙ this was a request sent to me through my Google form, so thank you to whoever wrote it🤗 I hope you guys like the quick little chapter!

series masterlist

warnings – pregnancy scare, short mention and implications of infertility, jokes and mentions about sex

word count – 4.6k

summary – minnie gets a little scare and there’s only one member she can think of to call

pairing – minnie & vernon (mentions of wonwoo x minnie x mingyu)

Better Safe Than Sorry 🌷 Minnie

Minne was in a panic. For the past two hours, the girl hadn't found a second of rest, pacing around the apartment, trying to keep herself busy before the thoughts running through her brain could catch up with her. Vernon was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago, only adding to her anxious state. Wonwoo and Mingyu were at the gym, thank God, she thought to herself.

The past few days, or more so even two weeks, had been... interesting. It started with a headache spanning over multiple days, only for it to turn into a migraine. Or so she thought. Throwing up, going to bed as early as possible, and sleeping in for as long as she could. Something was not right. Add the random heat flashes she had experienced the week before and Minnie started speculating. The moment she realised that her period had been a few days late made her shut down.

It was so secret that women in the industry encountered irregularities with their cycles as stress and diets dominated their lives. But Minnie and the entirety of Seventeen were in a good place. None of them was totally overworked at that point, thanks to their new contract. Diets were, thanks to the need to fit into the impossible beauty standards, still a topic of discussion but they were doing fine. Right?

It was one night out that made her mind spiral. Rapidly.

-

Minnie was enjoying a dinner with her closest friends from school, having made a reservation in one of their favourite restaurants a week ahead to make sure they'd get a private room. Food and drinks were passed around the table, discussions and conversations were flowing and laughter filled the room. Everyone was having a good time. When it hit that point of the night where people were slowly starting to leave, say their goodbyes and make promises to meet up again soon, the female singer was left with her two closest friends from that group. 

Léon, once a boy too afraid to show his true colours, is now a proud man with a husband waiting for him back in their new hometown in Spain. And Hana, the legend of a best friend who had gifted Minnie her first vibrator, and now the owner of one of the most-visited clubs in the nightlife of Hongdae.

The two were well tipsy while Minnie had held herself back a bit. They were still giggling at one of their friends who had stumbled through the door as he exited, the multiple shots of liquor clearly taking over his body.

"You look a little paler than usual," Léon suddenly commented, glancing at the idol with a slight frown, "Are you okay?"

"She probably just got a new IV infusion for extra light skin," the other girl joked, getting a chuckle out of the singer. Hana had never been a fan of the idol life.

Minnie shrugged, her finger circling the rim of her glass, "I've been feeling kinda off."

Her friend downed the last shot on the table before turning to her in confusion, "How off?"

Minnie sighed, "I've had a headache for like... a week now. And two days ago I was throwing up all day. Even yesterday and today when I woke up I felt like I had to puke..." The two friends were eyeing her carefully, letting her speak freely. "And then I had some random, like... heat flashes?" She glanced up to meet their eyes, "I don't know what the hell that was, but... yeah... something's going on, I don't know. But I don't want to provoke it with alcohol."

"That," the guy of the group leaned back, eyes now wide, "does not sound good."

"Yeah, but it must be something with my immune system. My period's also God knows where."

"You missed your period?!" Hana gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Girl-" Léon eyed her with a surprised expression, but Minnie was quick to stop them.

"No, no, no," she waved her hands, "It's not like that. I've missed it before, but it... it's a weird coincidence."

"What do you mean 'not like that'? That sounds a lot like being pregnant to me!" The tattooed girl hissed at her.

That was the first time she had heard the word out loud. Of course, it had crossed her mind. Just like every other woman. The moment her period was late, the first thought to come to her was 'shit, what if I'm pregnant', only to dismiss it a second later at how ridiculous it sounded.

"No, I-... we have the tour and we're preparing for a new album, and it's just... stress or something."

"But you've been stressed before. Way more stressed," the guy in front of her commented. "I don't want to scare you, but... you know..."

"If there's anyone that could be pregnant, it's you, Min," Hana casually told her, leaning back against the cushioned seats.

Minnie frowned as she glanced at her. "What the fuck do you mean?"

"No one's getting laid like you," she laughed, making the other two at the table chuckle and Léon threw his head back in glee.

"Oh, shut up!" The idol exclaimed, "You've got a line of men waiting for you to call them back after leaving their apartment in the middle of the night. And that's just from last week."

"That's not true!" Hana pointed her finger at the girl. "You get two dicks on a regular! Every day, I bet!"

"It's not every day!"

"Every other day then," the only guy quickly commented before their discussion could get any louder.

Minnie shrugged, "Yeah... so what?"

"My God," he chuckled with a shake of his head, "I'm jealous. Honestly." Making the girl laugh out loud.

"No, but seriously," Hana stopped the two, letting silence wash over the table once again. "Have you thought of it?"

"No! Because..." Minnie went quiet.

"They're not using condoms. Don't lie to us," Léon glared at her, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Hana faked a gasp, "You slut."

"You're not even using them on strangers!" Minnie pointed out, only for her friend to slap her hand away.

"This isn't about me!"

"Whatever..." the singer mumbled, her eyes back on the glass. It was still half filled with the mix of Soju and beer she decided not to finish.

"Okay, but seriously," Léon started again, "Could there... be a possibility?"

"For one, I'm on the pill," she explained, noticing her friends opening their mouths to argue, so she continued, "I know! I know that's not 100% safe, but it's... very safe-"

"I don't know about very safe, to be honest," Hana went back to nursing a glass of water. "My mom was on the pill and look at me now," pointed at herself with a proud grin.

"Don't make me scared," Minnie mumbled as she fell back onto her chair with a sigh.

"We don't want to scare you," her guyfriend explained, letting the other girl continue,

"But take a test, just in case," Hana shrugged. "You know how many pregnancy scares I've had? Still, better safe than sorry." She ended her speech by finishing her water.

Minnie's gaze had landed on her lap, where her thumbs had already started fidgeting with each other. "I...," she started with a sigh but stopped herself again right away.

"What?" Léon wondered, keeping a close eye on the singer, but she just shook her head and brought the glass of alcohol up to her lips.

"Nothing." And downed the last bit.

-

Four days later Minnie was still fighting her stomach each day, going out of her way to try and get as little food and water into her system as possible, knowing it would only trigger her and make her run to the toilet. On the other hand, the lack of nutrition was most definitely also adding to the nausea. There seemed to be no way out for the female singer.

On the verge of tears, overwhelmed with emotions, she had texted Hana in the morning, begging her to go to the store to buy her a pregnancy test. She was still very much in denial of the possibility of her being knocked up, but there were too many signs... But then again, she remembered the conversation she had with her gynaecologist two years ago. The doctor had only let a few words fall from her mouth before Minnie realised what she was trying to tell her.

At the sound of the front door's bell, the idol's head perked up, a second before she was rushing to the door. Once she pressed the camera button, she came to face with the young rapper she had called and pressed to open the door downstairs.

"Thanks!" Came through the speakers as Vernon disappeared into the building.

For the next minutes it would take him to come up, Minnie tried to pretend to have to do something, just praying the time would pass by quicker. The tests, yes multiple, were already placed on the counter of the main bathroom's sink. Hana had arrived with two in her bag, along with chocolate and prosecco to celebrate in case they'd be negative. The alcohol was chilling in the fridge while the sweet treat was waiting for her in the cabinet, with her definitely enjoying it either way of how the tests would come out.

Another doorbell sound rang through the apartment, notifying the female member of his arrival. With a few big steps, she stopped in front of the door, pulling it open in a swift motion. A wide-eyed Vernon standing right in front of her.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know," she mumbled, catching him off-guard as she pulled him in.

With a frown, the younger member stood right in front of her, shuffling his feet out of his shoes before he followed her down the hall.

"What's going on?"

She continued to walk in silence, only coming to a halt in the middle of the living room. Vernon stopped at the corner into the hallway, leaning against the wall.

"Alright," Minnie sighed, bringing her hands up in front of her, "Look..."

"Oh," the '98 Liner nodded, understanding this was going to be even more serious than he had expected. As if her call, asking him 'Can you come over? Like now? Just for a bit?' with zero explanation didn't alert him enough already, her stance certainly brought his heartbeat up.

"Are you okay?" He repeated his question, taking a seat on the edge of the couch, not daring to lean back in comfort.

The girl pressed her lips together, nodding as she avoided his gaze. "I-... I think so, yeah."

"That's not a yes, so that's alarming."

"No, wait-" she stopped him, "Just-... listen, okay?" Making him nod, so she could continue. "I called you because I know- or, at least I hope, you... won't judge me," his frown made her rush her words out even quicker. "And you won't overreact, because I- I don't even know if I really should be concerned, and honestly, I don't think I should be and if you ask me, I think it's impossible, and I'm overreacting, but some other people have made me think otherwise."

"Oh...kay?" Pure confusion was still written across his face. A beat of silence washed over the two as Minnie thought about what to say next. She was looking around the room, knowing there was no way out and she had brought herself into this situation.

She took one deep breath before blurting out, "I need to take a pregnancy test," pressing her lips tightly together again as she waited for a reaction.

Vernon's eyebrows shot up the moment the words tumbled from her lips. He closed his eyes for a split second, trying to take in what she had just said to him.

"Ehm... for... what?"

Minnie looked at him perplexed, "What do you think people take pregnancy tests for?" She knew sex ED in South Korea wasn't good, but she had hoped it wasn't that horrible.

"Well, I hope you're not gonna take it for the reason I think you might be taking it," he glanced up at her. 

He called himself lucky to get to have her as an older sister despite only being born two months apart. Vernon and Minnie had been close ever since he became a trainee under Pledis, the older girl taking him in as a little brother in an instant. Over the years, she had realised that the lack of an age gap was starting to show as she found herself looking up at him more and more, mentally and literally physically as he had shot up in height. She had found herself looking for comfort in him, asking him for advice or even just listening to him. While some members were more physical when it came to showing their appreciation and love, Vernon kept himself in the background, choosing quiet acts of kindness as his love language, which she sometimes appreciated even more than anything else. But even with all the love the two had for each other, their sibling-like relationship was no secret and not kept behind closed doors.

"And what is the reason you're not hoping for?" She had crossed her arms in front of her chest, her eyes still unsure of whether or not to lock with his.

Vernon sighed and shook his head before glancing back up at her, now finding her gaze. "Do you seriously think you're pregnant?"

"No," she was quick to answer.

The '98 Liner rose from his seat. "Then why take the test?"

"Because!" Minnie started pacing around the room again, fixing her hair along the way.

"Because?" He nagged her.

The girl to a stop. "Better safe than sorry."

Vernon couldn't help but sigh again, "Minnie..."

"There's a 0.01 per cent chance-"

"Don't say 0.01 because if it really was 0.01 you wouldn't even think of taking one!" He pointed a finger at her, quickly realising the rude gesture and putting his hand down again. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Okay, then maybe a slightly bigger chance... I don't know..." the female member bit down on her lip as her voice quieted down. Her gaze was back on the floor. "I'm scared."

Her confession made the rapper look back at her. He understood the seriousness of the situation, yet he had never seen the girl that way before. On a night out with the group, they had found out about the first pregnancy scare she had had years before, but she acted differently about it then. Took it with a lot more humour. But now, the woman in front of him just confessed to being scared. And he was the one she had trusted to confront about it.

Vernon glanced around the room. He couldn't freak out. He was supposed to help her here.

"Don't be scared," he tried to assure her, getting up from the sofa to take a step closer to her. "Are you serious though?"

Fallen silent, the girl just nodded. After not getting a verbal response back, she spoke up to explain, "I just... I've been feeling kinda... off. It's weird," she brushed it off, "and I really- I don't think I am, but... what if I am?"

Vernon accepted her answer, taking a second to himself. "Okay," he took a deep breath in and out. "It's okay. You have a test?" He asked her.

Minnie nodded.

"You went out and bought one?" Not even trying to conceal the concern in his voice.

"No," she told him, passing him as she made her way to the bathroom. "Hana got two for me."

"Where's she?" The younger member was hot on her feet.

"At work," Minnie explained. "She bought them on her lunch break." She stopped in front of the door, turning around to come to face with the rapper.

Vernon lowered his voice. "Why did you call me?"

The female idol shrugged.

He was desperate at this point. It felt like the wrong situation to be in for him. "Why not... Minghao... or... Shua, or Coups-"

"Coups would have me on a leash and drag me to get me castrated the moment he heard the words 'pregnancy test'!" She defended herself, getting a slight chuckle from him in return.

"Don't know how that would work but you're probably right. He'd do it at the word 'pregnancy' already," he mumbled.

"And... Shua would be way too emotional and... I don't know... Hao too. They'd be so... careful around me and try to comfort me-"

"You don't want to be comforted?"

"Not right now," she shook her head and gulped as he met his eyes. "I called you because you're the only person I know who can just sit there and be there for someone. Without overreacting... or... freaking out. And I'm kinda freaking out, so I need someone with a cool head right now."

"Not gonna lie," Vernon confessed, "I'm freaking out a little though."

"But you're hiding it well."

"Ditto," he nodded at the female member.

Another moment of silence washed over the apartment. Minnie took a quick look into the bathroom, her eyes immediately on the two pink packages by the sink.

"It's basically impossible that I'm pregnant," she admitted. The wheels in Vernon's head started turning, thinking that it was never truly impossible, unless... but he decided not to question her further.

"But I had weird... signs, I guess. And Hana and Léon made me scared. I just wanna make sure."

The '98 Liner nodded along to her words, shaking his head even harder the moment she looked back at him. "Do that. Take the test. Or tests," he dramatically pronounced the plural form.

Minnie nudged her head after a second to take a breath. "Can you come with me?"

Vernon immediately frowned. "Wh- Into the bathroom?"

The girl nodded.

"Ew, no! I'm not gonna watch you piss, bro."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't watch me pee. Just sit next to me," pointing to a stool they had in the bathroom for whatever reason. "Hold my hand?" She batted her eyes at him, mostly to lighten up the situation, while holding a bit of seriousness behind her ask.

"Absolutely fucking not," he shook his head. "Go. I'll be right here."

She eyed him up and down, scrunching up her face. "You're not a real one."

Vernon's eyebrows shot up. "If that's the requirement, I'm good," brushing her off and pushing her to finally get into the bathroom. "Weirdo," he mumbled, getting a last glare. At least she hasn't completely lost her spark, he thought to himself.

The moment she disappeared into the room, Vernon was met with the silence of being by himself. It was only then he realised that he hadn't even asked her about Wonwoo and/or Mingyu. Thinking, if anyone should be there, it would be the two men in question. He passed the thought after a moment of debating, coming to the conclusion that she'd have her reasons. Even after her explanation, he was still slightly confused as to why she'd rather have him than them here with her. He decided he'd rather stay in the unknown rather than pester her with more questions. Right now, she needed a friend, not an interrogator, by her side.

-

Vernon cleared his throat awkwardly.

The duo had found their way onto the couch with the two tests placed neatly on the coffee table ahead of them, facing down so neither one of them could even dare to get a glimpse of the results before the timer went off.

"And... ehm...," he tried to pass the time, hoping to somehow soothe the nerves rushing between both of them. "So... if you were though, like... pregnant," he carefully wondered, seeing her almost flinch at his words. He turned to look fully at her, finding her already staring at him. "Would you... w-would you... you know...," Vernon let out a chunk of air, "know whose it is?"

The time he had to himself let his mind wander to places he didn't even want it to go, but he couldn't help it.

Minnie stayed quiet for a few seconds, the words hitting her clearly hard as her eyes drifted off him.

"Ehm...," she took a deep breath. "I... I- eh... I... no?" Lowering her head, her gaze was back on her hands intertwined in her lap. She gulped, "I don't- I don't think so, n-no..." The confession appeared in the form of a big lump in her throat. 

While she was able to have her fun with the two men in her life, it was only now that she came across an obstacle like this. Of course, they had had conversations about protection, being careful instead of mindless, and consent. Yet, the topic of a possible pregnancy while still taking precautions seemed to have passed them.

Vernon nodded, his lips tightly pressed together. "Alright... damn...," he raised his eyebrows. "That- that's... wow, impressive... I mean- g-good for you. That's... good for you. And I- I mean not good good for you if you're pregnant, but, you know... good as in good for-"

"Vernon?"

"Yeah, I'm shutting up."

Not the time or place for a conversation like that, nor did she want to go into more detail about the couple's constellation in the bedroom with one of her closest friends, whom she considered her little brother. Neither did Vernon. But the silence had become dreadful.

Any other day, the duo would have no issue sitting next to each other in complete silence, yet, at that very moment, both wanted anything but to stay quiet. And finding a topic of conversation seemed more challenging than ever before.

The '98 Liner could see her shaking leg in the corner of his eye, unsure of how to comfort her well enough since it was the first time in a situation like that for him too. In an attempt to help her, he reached out and placed his hand on her knee, hoping it would calm her.

"It's okay," he quietly told her, turning his head to meet her clearly frightened gaze.

"Is it though?" She kept the conversation going.

He retrieved his hand again to turn the rest of his body to face her more clearly.

"You said it's... very unlikely." He continued to choose his words carefully, not trying to overstep and drag her into a hole she might not get out of.

Minnie nodded. "Yeah...," she whispered, hugging herself as if she was freezing. "Very unlikely, but... never impossible, right?"

Vernon shrugged his shoulder, "I think only you'd know that. If it's possible or not."

Whether they were talking about the act of conception or possibly rather the chances of her fertility would stay between the two.

The girl gulped. "It's unlikely. Very, very unlikely." 

A quiet pat on her back gave her the validation and comfort she craved and asked for.

"That's why I called you," Minnie confessed after a short few seconds of quietness.

"Hm?" Vernon glanced back at her after his eyes had been fixed on his phone.

"You can just sit here. Accept it, without a big reaction. And I still feel comforted. You... your presence is very comforting."

The question as to why him and not the men that lived with her was still burning his tongue, yet he didn't even dare to let it fall from his lips. Maybe another time.

"I still don't think I'm the right person for something like this-"

"You are," she quickly reassured him. "I didn't even think of anyone else."

The truth was, were the first people to pop into her head her lovers? Yes, of course. But in a moment of panic, in a situation that could affect either one of their lives immensely, she didn't want to confront them. Not with 100% certainty of a result. She wanted to avoid the unnecessary anxiety and hysteria spreading to other people involved in this. Not if there's nothing to be worried about in the first place, she kept on convincing herself.

In addition, as they had talked about before, knowing the rest of her members, there was a group of them that would try to be as emotionally available as they possibly could, their arms around her during the entire process, trying to console her while she just needed someone next to her. The other part of them would turn it into the headline of their tabloid, running around frantically, trying to make sense of the situation, while freaking out, scaring her even more.

And then there was Cheol, the oldest of them all, she shook her head as she didn't even want to think of a possible reaction of his. Yes, he'd support her no matter what, but the image of disappointment on his face was something she couldn't stomach.

Silently, Vernon leaned back, a tight smile on his lips. He appreciated her honesty.

Their sweet moment of companionship was interrupted by the sound of the teeth-shattering, chill-sending sound of his alarm. Vernon didn't even think of changing the ringtone, just opting to go with the standard iPhone one, making the girl shudder as he turned it off.

"Alright," he sighed. "You ready?"

Minnie nodded, pushing herself up to sit further on the edge, her knees close to hitting the coffee table.

"I do one, you do one?"

"Dude, you peed on that, I'm not touching it!" His exclaim made her look at him dumbfounded.

"I peed on that part," she pointed at the end covered by a plastic cap. "You won't even touch it."

But Vernon just shook his head. "You do it."

"Real supportive," she mumbled at him with an amused glare and nudge of her head.

Rushing down the number from three to one in her head, with a deep breath, she turned one test around, wanting to rip the bandaid off quickly and get it over with. Carefully, she looked at the small electronic display, ready for the worst to hit her.

"Not pregnant," she read out loud with a big breath of air. With a quick move, she turned around the second one, a content smile on her lips as she found the same result.

"Not pregnant," Vernon nodded, looking at the coffee table ahead of him before turning towards the female member. "You okay?"

Minnie pressed her lips together tightly, looking at him with a somewhat smile on her face as she nodded. "Yeah..."

Her gaze fell back on the white and blue plastic, her hands still cramped up in her lap as the younger rapper let himself fall further back into the blue couch. He let a moment pass, giving her the silence to herself.

"You know," he patted her back, gaining her attention, "If you were though...," she met his eye. "I'd drive you. Check-up... or...," with a motion of his hand, he pretended to cut his neck, getting a chuckle from her in return.

"I know," she whispered, not trusting her voice to become any louder. Too many emotions were rushing through the short moment, too many for at that time after coming close to what she'd describe as a heart attack.

In the blink of an eye, she had her arms wrapped around his torso, making the younger member smile softly as he returned the embrace. A comforting hand ran up and down her arm. It wasn't often he reciprocated the show of affection from her, but he'd let her for now, knowing she most definitely needed it.

With her cheek against his shoulder, he felt her tightening her arms in a pulse as she spoke up again.

"That's why I called you."

Taglist: @waosobii @chaebb @lunarxsun @hoe4wonwoo @kimhyejin3108 @soobzao @billboard-singer @cosmicwintr @zwiehe @alixnsuperstxr @angie-x3 @smooore @allthings-fandoms @lllucere