#trying out the new fic format that i see all over the place

[tusks-and-claws]

The Death of Peace of Mind

Miguel O’hara x female reader

Summary: "I miss the way you say my name/the way you bend, the way you break"

You think your fearless leader needs help relaxing, but another door is opened entirely

Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, fingering, blowjob, pronebone, blood, biting, unprotected sex, paralytic venom, dominant Miguel, dirty talk, God there’s so much to list : )

Word count: 3.3k 

Can also be found on Ao3 here. Please give it some love if you enjoyed ;_;

-

"I know better than this, I shouldn't be… we shouldn't be doing this."

Miguel O'Hara sat at the edge of your bed, your room softly illuminated by a candle on the bedside table. He liked the dark. His back was to you, his broad shoulders slumped forward, as you had your back against your headboard. He was still in his suit, his mask off.

"Miguel…" you said, starting this conversation again for the umpteenth time. "You have needs, too, y'know." 

He waved a hand dismissively. "What are my needs when compared to all this?" He gestured to nothing. You weren't even at HQ. You were both in your dimension. A vacation, you had said. You could never get him to leave HQ for long. "I know what happens when I try to get what I want. When I go where I don't belong."

You furrowed your brow. "But you do belong here, I invited you."

"You know exactly what I mean." He spoke quickly. Trying to expel the words as fast as possible. 

Your arms crossed over your chest as you eyed him. He'd been through a lot, yes, but what Spider hadn't? How long was he going to keep ignoring himself for the greater good? What purpose would he serve if he tore himself apart? 

"You're right," you said, finally. 

"What?" He asked, peering over his shoulder to look at you, incredulous. 

"You're right," you repeated. "You can leave."

"I… well. I suppose I can leave. Do you… want me to?"

You suppressed a smile. "I don't really care," you lied. 

"You…?" He turned around at that, hands on the bed as he swiveled his torso to meet your eyes. "You can't be serious. I- I made the effort to make sure Jess could cover me so we could come here, I… it's a huge waste of time. You see that, don't you?" 

"I guess so." It was hard for you to break eye contact with him, but you managed to do it, and stared pointedly out the window. 

"You 'guess,' I can't-" he rubbed his face with his hands. "You're so frustrating, I can't read you, you-" 

Your face broke, betraying you, a smirk cracking your façade.

He narrowed his eyes, fully turning around now, bringing his knees up onto the bed to crawl to you. His claws came out, and they pulled at the threads of your comforter, threatening to tear holes. "Is this what you want? You want to make me mad?" 

You blushed as he made his way to you, his sudden intensity stirring you into silence. 

"Well?" He asked. "Suddenly so quiet." He reached you now, looming over you with both hands on the headboard on either side of you, his muscular thighs straddling your legs. His huge frame took up your whole vision, his presence overwhelming your heightened senses. Heat was radiating from his body. His scent washed over you. He was all clean musk and warmth and something deeper, something primal. It played to your baser mind, telling you to lose control and give in. 

You swallowed. "You have no need to stay here." You weren't done teasing him just yet. 

"But you have need, hm?" He looked down to study your form, releasing his hands from the headboard to touch the hem of your shirt. "Don't you?"

You held your breath, nodding.

"Say it." His tone was casual. Flippant.

Your breath left you as your lips parted to speak, the words far from you as your brain grew foggy. He always liked to hear you admit how much you wanted it, how much you wanted him. And he always asked you when he knew you'd struggle to form a response. 

"Yes." It was the only thing your brain made abundantly clear. Yes. Yes, you have needs. Yes, in this moment, he was one of them. 

"Yes what?"

How cruel. Under his gaze for this long, intense and bloodshot, you grew more flustered and delirious. 

"Yes, Miguel, I have need of you." You impressed yourself with the eloquence of your reply. 

"Oh? Oh, do you?" His hands finally moved again, snaking under the bottom of your shirt, the fabric of his suit keeping your skin from touching his. "That's kind of selfish of you, isn't it?"

You nodded, biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes as his hands moved to firmly hold the sides of your waist, thumbs stroking soft skin. He was being careful to not scratch you. Though his claws were retractable, you noticed throughout your encounters that he had a hard time keeping them hidden when his passions were running high. But part of you didn't care if he marked you up. Part of you wanted to keep something from him. Something more than awkward passing glances and intimate encounters that were few and far between. 

"M-Miguel?"

"Mm? What is it?"

"You don't need to be gentle, y’know."

His gaze flicked to meet yours as he raised an eyebrow. He seemed amused. 

"It's just that," for some reason, you felt the need to elaborate. "I'm strong, too. I can handle it. You've been so stressed."

"So… you want me to use you?" His voice was low and level. 

Use. The word sent a shock up your spine. He could see the emotions flashing across your face, the thoughts of him, of what he might do to you. Was this safe? Could he control himself? He'd have to. You'd just have to trust him. 

You released a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding, meeting him in his bloodshot eyes. "Yes. Please."

He grinned, bearing his pearly fangs in the flickering candlelight. The fog in your head grew thicker at the sight of them. Would he bite you with them? How would they feel against your skin? How would they feel piercing you? Would it hurt? Would it-

The feeling of his bare forefinger, claw retracted, gently teasing your slit quickly shut you up. When did he move his hand under the hem of your shorts? You were so deep within your own clouded thoughts, you hadn't even noticed. He caressed you there before carefully plunging his finger into your heat. The feeling was immediately maddening. You bit your lip to keep yourself from asking for more, for another finger, for his mouth, for his- no. You were following his pace. This was what you wanted, yes, but it was mostly for him. You somehow knew that he needed this more than you did, though he'd never admit it.

The whole time, he kept his reddened eyes on your face, studying every reaction. "You're wet, you're so wet…." His voice was quiet. "So, this is what does it for you, huh?" He pumped his finger at a steady pace. You could hear the wet sounds he elicited with his efforts. You braced yourself on his hulking shoulders, preparing for him to quicken at any moment. But he was agonizingly slow. His free hand gripped the headboard above you as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. "Me, your leader, using you." There was that word again. You lightly arched your back into him upon hearing it, trying to keep yourself calm for now. Falling apart could come later. "I try so hard to hold it all together. But you… you threaten me. The looks you give me, your smiles, your smell, estoy cachondo, fuck." Your eyes widened. He only spoke Spanish when his emotions were heightened. He was unraveling. 

Good.

He slipped his digit out from inside of you and circled your clit with a slick fingertip. The feeling was intense and electric, and even though you were still half-pinned by his muscular thighs, your upper body curled into him. "Seeing you like this…" he swallowed, his heartbeat quickening. "Rendering you helpless… It's revenge for how you make me feel when you look at me the way you do. If I can make you feel half of that… that might be enough. You're going to come for me. Feel what I feel." 

You nodded fervently, unable to speak under his attention, his words, his touch. That delicious, warm feeling was building up and coiling in your core as he kept expertly circling your clit, until the coil finally snapped and you came, lifting up off of the bed and throwing your arms around his neck as you whimpered. Miguel continued as you rode it out, reveling in the newfound wetness that came with your orgasm, until you finally settled down, your heart still thumping in your chest. You released your hold of him, your arms weak, your gaze heavy. He seemed to match your labored breathing, his chest rising and falling in time with yours. You had hardly even touched him and he seemed as much of a mess as you were. 

He stared at you like that for a brief moment, seemingly awestruck at your reaction to this newly opened door. 

"God, I need… I need your mouth around my cock." He flipped unceremoniously off of you to lay on his back at your side. "Come here." Before you had time to react, he had a hand on your head, guiding you downward. Despite the forceful movement, he fondly scratched at your scalp with bare fingers, his hand shaking just enough for you to notice. You positioned yourself so your head rested on his hard abdominals while you admired the display he brought you down to see. His hard cock pushed against his nearly metallic suit. The sheen of the fabric left almost nothing to the imagination. You could see his thick shaft, prominent veins like rivers flowing over a landscape, all leading up to the bulbous head. He twitched eagerly as he sighed, trying to calm his heart. 

You reached your hand up to touch Miguel through his suit, and his reaction was bodily. He hissed a breath in through clenched teeth. You played with his hard length, running the flat of your palm up and down the underside of his shaft, until he couldn't take it anymore. He seemed to be able to dismiss parts of his suit at will, and he did just that, creating an opening so he could spring free. It was always an impressive sight, sizable and thick. His golden skin slightly red with anticipation at the head of his cock, soft dark waves of short hair at the base. Reaching up, you gently held it. You couldn't quite wrap your whole hand around it. He exhaled at your touch, skin on skin. The hand he had in your hair gently pushed your head until your waiting lips met the tip of his cock, and you accepted it, closing your mouth around it.

Miguel threw his head back, slamming it against the headboard and shaking the two of you on the bed. The sound startled you, but you knew the headboard would've taken more damage than Miguel. He gave no indication that he was hurt, and so you kept going, sucking on the tip of his cock and being as noisy as possible so it would overwhelm that heightened hearing of his. And overwhelm it did. The soft, wet heat of your mouth was nearly too much for him. And as you started to take him deeper, he reached his arms up and behind him, taking the headboard into a vice grip. You could hear the wood splintering. 

That should've worried you, you should've cared about your furniture being destroyed. But you didn't. You couldn't, not with Miguel O'Hara melting underneath you. He could destroy a thousand bed frames. So long as you could touch him, could hear him moaning, could watch him as he barely held his composure. This would always be worth it. 

You took him further into your mouth, humming around his length at the pleasant,  full feeling. You were slow, holding him there, savoring the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue.

"M-move-" he croaked.

You turned your gaze towards his face, raising an eyebrow. He was straining. Muscles bulging, chest heaving, fangs displayed in clenched teeth. You could see the prominent cracks in the wood.

"Move your shocking head, amor."

His hands came down to tangle with your hair, grabbing handfuls so he could move your head for you. You happily let him, and he bobbed you up and down on his shaft as you opened your throat to him. 

"Oh, fuck, yes… that's it. Good girl. You're- you're taking me so fucking well." 

Your eyes started rolling into the back of your head fondly. Good girl. He'd never called you that before. You'd be good for him. You'd be so good. 

The sounds coming from you were the very definition of lewd, as were the strands of thick saliva that connected you to him. You closed your eyes, continuing to breathe through your nose, when you felt something prick your scalp. His claws. In and out, in and out. He was struggling to keep control of them.

"Ay, coño, I can't fucking do this." His voice barely a whisper. "You're gonna," he paused, swallowing. "You're gonna make me lose control, you know that?" Despite his words, he kept going, kept moving your head, even started to thrust his hips up to fuck your throat more thoroughly. His moans turned into what could only be described as growls, and the sound of them hit you like an electric shock, making you want him even more. If that were even possible. 

His claws kept scraping you, threatening to fully unsheath. But Miguel never let them. He finally let your head go, bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing it in exhaustion. You stayed on his cock for a moment longer, carefully lifting your head away and disconnecting from him with a wet pop.

He groaned to himself through his hands. 

"Miguel…? You alright?"

"No." He finally said, "no, I'm fucking not."

You cocked your head in surprise at the response, opening your mouth to question him further until you were cut off by him quickly grabbing you and positioning you underneath him. He was pinning your legs again, but you were faced down this time, your cheeks pressed against the soft sheets as he pushed you into the mattress. He finally let his claws out, and with one swift movement, tore your shorts and panties into ribbons. In that moment, you were glad he couldn't see your face. You were grinning like an idiot. Finally. You're finally seeing the side of him that you always knew was there. That you desperately wanted him to let out. Your previous encounters had been tame compared to this. He'd been holding back. 

"Because now," he grabbed your waist with both of his large hands, holding firm. "Now I know that you like being treated like a little fucktoy. I know that you'll be good for me and that you'll listen. What a rarity." He started to line up the tip of his cock with your entrance. "And if I thought you took up too much space in my head already, well-" he chuckled, pushing his tip into your pussy. "I'll never have peace of mind again."

He thrusted into you, and you were immediately seeing stars. With each pump, he took himself nearly all the way out of your warmth before plunging all the way back in. You could feel every delicious, hot inch of him. So deep and so filling. He fucked you into the mattress so thoroughly and so hard that you were convinced a crater was forming underneath the both of you. You felt the sharp points of his claws pricking your skin but not quite puncturing you. Your head swam as you grew dizzy. 

He released your waist, left hand steadying himself on the low headboard, which was bound to break again. His right arm snuck up underneath your right arm, reaching around your collarbone to grab at your left shoulder, pulling you up so you were close into him. His chest was flush with your back. You reached up to hold onto that arm for dear life, as he brought his mouth down to your ear. 

"Wanna bite you so bad, amor," he growled. "You smell so shocking good. Drivin' me up a fucking wall."

"Do it," you said, your voice strained.

"Wh-what?" His pace wavered. "You can't mean that."

"I- fuck- I do. Bite me, Miguel. Please."

"Are you," he exhaled a shaky breath. "Are you sure? It's a paralytic venom. I've- I've used it on Spiders before and we can withstand it a bit, but, shit… I need you to know what you're getting into." 

"Do it," you said again. 

His entire body shook against you. "Unbelievable…." His voice sounded reverent. "Hold on tight."

You listened, gripping his arm harder, shutting your eyes. His mouth came down to meet the crook of your neck. He inhaled, letting your scent wash over him, before carefully sinking his fangs into your skin. The pain was sharp and fast, and was quickly replaced with a wave of warmth and laxity. Your muscles loosened, allowing him to easily pull you in even closer. He moaned against you, his thrusts quickening, his cock feeling like it was hitting your cervix. With every smack of his skin against yours, he buried himself to the hilt. That incredible, intense feeling was building within you again, deep inside your core.

"Fuck," he hissed into your skin, releasing his jaws and lapping at the light trickle of crimson blood. "Good girl, good girl, I've got you."

He held you and didn't let go, caging you against his huge form, fucking you until that feeling turned into a huge sunburst that sent spots across your vision. Your body trembled involuntarily as you clenched around his cock. 

"Yes," he encouraged, "yes, come for me. Give it all to me. I've got you, bebé."

You smiled against the venom, and he was right, it wasn't too potent in your system. It was just enough to comfortably loosen your muscles. You came down from your high as he kept pumping into you, his pace merciless. His body started to shake again, his right hand's grip on your left shoulder tightening. 

“Too much for me to handle,” he rasped. “I’m gonna come… gonna come inside you.”

“Yes,” you croaked, finding your voice and gaining back enough control of your muscles to push yourself up into him. 

His tempo stuttered as he slammed his hips into you, curling against you as he came. His cock twitched inside of you, spilling hot seed in thick spurts. He held you there for a long while, savoring the feeling of being inside you, like he knew he'd miss the warmth once it was gone. Despite what he wanted, he let go of you and flipped onto his back beside you, placing a hand over his heart as his chest heaved. He closed his eyes, trying to compose himself. Silently reaching for you, he pulled you in so you could rest against his chest, your head rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. He stroked your hair as you stared up at him, his face glowing in the yellow shine of candlelight. 

"That…" he started to say, then stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I…. I needed that." 

You smiled, nuzzling into him. "Thank you." 

"You're thanking me?" He asked, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded. 

"Yeah," you said. "I feel like I finally saw Miguel tonight. Not Spider-Man. But Miguel. And I really like him." 

He rolled his eyes but still smiled, petting your head until you fell asleep on him.

[rafesfawn]

🪽🧺 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋

𝜗ৎ⋆｡˚ when rafe sees a precious little doll on the side of the road with a broke-down car, how can he resist out of the kindness of his heart offering her a ride? just a ride home, that's all...

or how trailerpark!angel!reader and rafe met!

warnings: use of the nickname pet & little one, reader! is eighteen-nineteen! bit of perv!rafe, barely proofread!

a/n: first time writing a rafe fic/blurb! im so excited, also this is based on this ask and thank you so much for sending something I really appreciated it and I hope u like it mwah! I would say you two meet in like early season 2 (right before the cross storyline) also for the format slight ib to others on here esp @rafesangelita (sorry for the tag!)

this was based off of this ask! which tysm i literally love requests and rafe and trailerpark!angel!reader is my new obsession <3

a small, meaningless kick was made to the tire while you huffed and groaned, putting two hands over your frustrated features as all you wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

“piece of shit,” you mumbled under your breath, kicking the tire once more, but immediately a whimper fell from your lips. the pain shot from your toe up to your spine. making you sniffle and tip-toe in pain. in your denim ruffle skirt, white socks, and pink converse, you sat down on the asphalt, on the side of the road, leaning against the side of your broken-down car.

she wasn’t the best car, but she surely got you around most of the time. most of the time. it was a little volkswagen beetle, light pink in color, covered in so many stickers some wondered if it was passing inspection. it wasn't.

sitting with your head against the car for what felt like hours (it was maybe ten minutes), but spending even that on the side of a main road in kildare island was torture. especially with the beating sun late august provided.

rafe was speeding down the road on the way to play golf and get drunk with topper and kelce. “ah shit, i don’t know, man.” he said into his phone, holding it up with one hand; his voice gruff and confident, topper on the other line. “you really think i won’t kick your ass today huh?” a smirk grew on his already smug expression.

letting out a short chuckle at toppers response, nothing anybody ever said meant more than a laugh to him. or that's what it used to be like anyway, his act wasn't together if anything, it was worse than it'd ever been. his father condemning him to disingenuous "discipline" to forget about the possible death of his golden daughter.

"the fuck?" he mutters into the mic, his voice laced with confusion. as he sees up ahead on the road, a pink car broken down, with the most precious thing sitting against it. a pout on the angels soft lips and the most defeated look in her eye. aw, you just fell right into my lap, didn't you? little angel.

your eyes glued on the pavement, your entertainment of watching a little ladybug try to make it to safety in the distance, was shortly interrupted.

a nice black truck coming into view it came to such a short stop it almost took your breath away, the breaks slightly screeching at the haste. a tire replaced the spot the ladybug once was.

you stood brushing the dirt and gravel off the backsides of your pale thighs, left bare by the short fabric of your skirt.

the man stepped out of the truck. he was tall, and the sleeves of his polo looked like they were about to burst at the seams, not able to contain the biceps beneath. his features strong and statue-like, his deep sea eyes hidden behind the curtain bangs that hung over his forehead. a grin that seemed too genuine, too good to be true.

you removed your heart-shaped sunglasses, placing them on top of your head to see him more clearly. your possible savior, but he was anything but.

he stepped a bit closer, seeing the state of her already pretty beaten car, "having some car trouble?" rafe asked as if he wasn't stating the obvious.

you pretended he wasn't either as you nodded, the frown only slight now but still on your lips as your eyes remained looking up into his.

"aw.. poor thing we can't have that, what happened?" his voice, a mockery of sympathy. as he inspected the piece of shit car she loved so much. his care coming from a place of ownership, of burning ache or want.

still, in slight shock, you hadn't answered him, following behind him as he reopened the hood like he owned the car. not even realizing you'd been rude and not replied till he spoke again. "little one, i can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong." a heady mix of gentle and firm that made your mouth go dry and your head dizzy.

"oh- it's been on her last limb for like ever, i guess she finally called it quits... right on my way home." you said with a little sad laugh that rafe wanted to bottle the sound of and listen to on repeat. "and I really need to get home," you added fiddling with your fingers in front of you.

a sweet girl all out of options, rafe was so glad he was here to provide her with his help. "tell you what, I'll take you home and come back and fix this thing up for you, huh?" he offered, there goes his saturday plans he presumed. it'd be worth it. he told himself he'd make it worth it, with those shy eyes and the expression you carried like a lost puppy. you'd owe him he'd make sure to get something in return.

just like he figured, you shook your head. never wanting to accept such a grand favor. "I can't ask you to do that, I mean, I don't even know your name." nerves, curiosity, and a glint of something else tinged in your voice, so many wonders in that head as soon as his truck came to a stop for you. why? the only question running through your mind.

"It's rafe, can I help you out now?" his genuine grin turned almost smug at his own remark, brushing that bangs out his face, the effort pointless as they immediately fell back again.

you paused. picking at the already chipped white nail polish on your sore fingertips, a larger-rougher hand covered your own, stopping your movements with that firm gentleness he carried around her. you looked up at him, he was so much closer. the scent of some cologne that probably could pay your rent, and a tinge of smokey wood filled your senses.

"pet?" he questioned with an expecting tilt of his head, calling you that like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your body and mouth responding before giving another second for your brain or anxiety to think it over, you nodded. "can you please give me a ride home?" you hesitantly asked, it felt weird. getting help, and even asking for it felt foreign, he offered it so graciously like it was nothing.

looking down upon her, his grin turned genuine once again, his eyes seemed almost proud it was a soothing balm to her nervous heart. a rosy hue to her cheeks as his palm covered the side of her neck, making a few pats to the flesh before leading her to his truck.

you'd owe him. something he was sure you were ready for.

[forlix]

· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.

words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships

a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!

chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.

you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.

minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.

there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.

he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.

changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.

“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.

he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.

hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.

a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.

he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.

jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.

wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.

when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.

he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)

with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”

being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.

now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.

the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.

you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”

and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.

with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[baby-yongbok]

Don't Go Insane

Neighbor!Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✧Genre - Smut ✧Warnings: Unprotected piv (Wrap it up ya'll) ✧ Masterlist ✧

A/N: I have never ever written a fic in this format but it was the only was for my brain to process the idea😭This is a product of those fucking SINFUL photos that Chan took for Nylon Japan. I'm sorry if it sucks, I'm trying to get back into writing again so I might suck for a bit, sorry! Hope you enjoy! (not proofread)

You weren't expecting to actually like your new neighbor since your previous one was such a dick but when you meet Chan he's more than kind to you. 

He always greets you in the hallway, helping you bring your bags up to your place when you get home from shopping and checks in on you when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days

You find yourself going out around the same time that he would usually get home from his morning workout just so you can talk to him. He's so sweet and charming and hot. Oh so hot. 

He brings you food when he's made too much dinner to fit in his fridge which is code for he wanted an excuse to talk to you and gave you 50% of his meal just to see your face. 

You invite him in to eat the first time that he brings you food and it quickly turns into spending Sunday nights eating together and laughing at his stories. It's your favorite day of the week now. 

You drop by his place to ask if he needs anything from the store every time that you go now. He's memorized the pattern of your knock and jumps to his feet every time he hears it. 

You're in line at the store one day when a magazine catches your eye. Is that…Chan!? You grab it, looking through with wide eyes before buying it and nearly forgetting about the rest of your items. 

You don't tell him that you saw it. He never said what he did for work and yeah he's hot - Oh so hot - but you never thought that this would be his occupation and you defiantly didn't think that this is how you'd find out.

You flip through the magazine all night. Staring at his beautiful chocolate gaze and his perfectly blushed lips. How is he even real?

You may have also stared at his shirtless pics for an hour too long. No one has to know that though.

He brings over a new recipe that he tried this Sunday. Setting up your usual spot on the living room floor when his eyes land on a familiar photo on your side table. It's him. You bought his magazine? He tries to act normal about it but his red ears and blushed cheeks give him away. 

You catch on when he glances at it for a second time and you internally body slam yourself for forgetting to put it away. You both eat quietly, blushing and trying to find the right thing to say next. 

“I'm sorry about that.” You speak first and he glances up quickly, straightening himself up with a shy smile. “It's fine, I'm just embarrassed I guess.” He's shy about being hot?? Why does that make him hotter?

“Are you always the shy type?” Your question was genuine but your tone was suggestive, almost teasing. It creates a shift in his demeanor that makes you shiver. “Not always, no.”

You don't know how it happened. It's all a blur. One second he was talking to you, confident and sweet. He was telling you about the shoot for the magazine when he got to the topic of the shirtless photos. The air around you thickened and the words that started it all slid off your tongue.

“You look so good it could drive me insane.” You chuckled but his eyes darkened in response. 

“Do you want me to?” His eyes are on yours, his gaze is heavy and intense. “What?” You drop your fork, swallowing hard. “Make you go insane?”

That's how you ended up with his lips on yours. He swallowed each and every strangled moan and replaced it with one of his own. His hands explored your body, fast yet cautious. A gentleman.

He pulls you into his lap, one of his large palms gripping your ass over your leggings and the other cupping your cheek to keep you still for him. He pulls you close, chest to chest. He's been waiting to feel you since the moment he first saw you. He feels like he's dreaming and he prays that he never wakes up. 

His breathing picks up when you plant sloppy kisses along his jawline. Mind numbing groans and hisses falling from his lips. “You're gonna make me go insane, fuck.”

His lips feel like heaven against your skin. Soft and all-consuming. He leaves marks along your collar bones, sucking and flicking his tongue over the delicate skin. Your head is spinning as you take him in. This beautiful man that you've been dreaming of for months finally has his hands on you. 

You grind against him, his fingers digging into your hips as he presses up into you. The way that he looks up at you with his lip caught between his teeth is intoxicating. “You're so fucking beautiful.” He smiles at your compliment, blinking a blush away and trying to keep his composure. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”

You pull back, sitting on the shaggy rug and frantically undressing. You're desperate, antsy, absolutely insatiable and Chan isn't too far behind but you could never tell by how composed he looks. How does he have that much self control?

He moves to sit on the couch and watches you as you strip. Taking in every beautiful inch of your body while he makes himself comfortable. You look up at him as he sits, man spreading at the edge of your couch and giving you the perfect view of his aching cock straining against his jeans. 

Fucking sinful

"Crawl to me, baby. Come here." He beckons you with two fingers that you're dying to be acquainted with. The smile on his face while you follow his order is enough to make you explode already.

He leans forward, cupping your face and kissing you with such soft hunger. So much passion and desire. A promise, like his kiss is asking you to be his. You palm him softly over his jeans earning a soft moan from him. "You want it?” He leans back, resting against the back of your sofa, giving you full access to his zipper and button. “Go ahead, take it, princess."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches you free his cock and his eyes roll back when you fist it confidently. Pumping him at a deliciously slow place. You want to drag this out. You don't ever want this to end. 

He puts his hand over yours once he gets fed up with your teasing. He loves how your hand feels around him but he needs more of you. He taps his leaking cock against your lips and you allow your spit to dribble down his shaft. "Stick that tongue out. There we go, baby. That's my girl. Look at that.”

He holds your hair back as you slide his length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. His fingers massage your scalp softly making you hum around him. He's a gentleman, a filthy one. 

He couldn’t wait to switch places with you, falling to his knees so fluidly that you couldn’t help but to groan at the sight of him. His gaze never left yours. His eyes were constantly asking for permission to continue and you eagerly granted it every time.

He ate your pussy like a fucking starved man. Lick and sucking the expanse of your cunt like he’d never see you again. Your moans encouraged him as he lapped at you, he wanted - no, needed - you to cum on his tongue. It’s all that he’s been dreaming of for the last month. 

He made you cum twice and had to hold back the urge to keep going. He’s definitely found his new favorite thing.

Nevermind, kissing you is his favorite thing. The way that you sigh into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue and biting his bottom lip drives him wild. 

You’re seeing stars as soon as he slips into you. His strong arms on either side of your head as he hovers, kissing you softly as you adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re a dream come true, ya know that? I’ve dreamt of this, princess.” You can hardly reply once he fills you to the hilt but you try to anyway, moaning out as your vision blurs. “Wanted you so bad, Channie.”

That was enough to break him. He snapped his hips into you, giving you everything that you ever wanted, ever needed, from him. He fucks you deep, speeding up gradually just to hear you moan his name a little louder. He wants to be gentle with you but with a cunt that feels this amazing he can’t help but want to make you fall apart underneath him.

You always imagined being on top when you finally got to be with Chan but it looks like that’ll have to be another day. The way that his cock is splitting you open makes you feel like you might have to call out of work tomorrow. 

“Look at me, babygirl. You liked seeing my pictures, huh? Did you touch this pretty cunt while looking at them?” You nod your head with such urgency that you’re positive that you look absolutely pathetic but Chan thinks that it’s cute, he’s in love with how fucked out you look drooling under him. “All you had to do was ask for the real thing.” He rolls his hips into you and your eyes roll back right after. 

He holds both of your hands as he slows down a bit, he wants to make love to you. Wants to treat you like the precious gem that he knows that you are but your cunt keeps fucking squeezing around him. He curses under his breath as he tries to compose himself but it’s no use. He watches as he disappears inside of you, groaning when he sees just how perfectly your pussy is taking him. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby. You’re too much. Too good.” 

Much to his surprise you cave before he does, chanting his name like a prayer while he rocks into you at the perfect angle. You feel dizzy as you unravel under him, nails digging into his strong arms and your legs wrapping around his waist in a desperate attempt to feel grounded. 

The way that you look cumming on his cock drives him over the edge. He picks up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he’s chasing his. The overstimulation draws out your climax causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you harder than the last. “Yeah yeah yeah, oh fuck such a pretty girl cumming on my cock like that, that's it baby.” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying but he doesn’t care he’s so close so so so close.

You forced your eyes open when he pulled out, you needed to watch him stroke himself over the edge and cover your stomach in his cum. You need to take in the way his eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow while he moans for you. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.”

The giggles that you share after may be Chan’s new favorite part. He cleaned you up and wrapped his arms around you. Pressing kisses to your hair as you both talk about what just happened with smiles on your faces 

“This is a bit backwards but uh, can I take you out? Maybe next weekend?” The butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you blush into his chest, nodding happily and answering with a muffled ‘yes’ that makes Chan chuckle. “Maybe afterward I can fuck the sense back into ya, since I drove you insane tonight.”

[mango-bango-bby]

Yandere Miguel O’Hara pls?

He lost Y/n, his wife, she die in his multiverse. When he went into different multiverse to take care of anomaly villain, he met a spider woman. Her mask cut off by villain only to reveal Y/n, his wife. Miguel plan to take Y/n from her home and keep her from losing again.

Take your time.

♡ Together Again ♡

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, kidnapping, Miguel has reader tied up, my first time writing Miguel so if he’s ooc just ignore it 😭😭

Summary: Miguel lost you and now that he has you again, he’s never letting you go. Even if you aren’t his Y/n (Yan!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Miguel lost his whole family. You and your daughter and there wasn’t a single day that went by when he didn’t think about it. It was his fault, he killed both of you. Even if indirectly, he killed you. He still wore his wedding ring because he couldn’t bare to let you go.

When he realized that the new spider-woman with them, was you. He had to take you. Yes, it might destroy your world. But he couldn’t lose you again. He gently tilts a photo on the nightstand to look at you. It’s a family photo of all of you from his universe.

“Y/n, you’re not going to get anything out of struggling like that” Miguel says calmly watching you struggle against his webs. You weren’t his Y/n but that didn’t matter to him, you were still you. And being spider-woman was to dangerous for you. He can’t lose you again.

And he knows keeping you here means your universe would fall apart but frankly, he doesn’t care. He is never going to lose you again. You see to try and yell something at him but he can’t make it out, he silenced you with a web over your mouth.

He walked over to the trash can, throwing away parts of your machine that helped you create webs. You only created webs through technology which worked well for him. You had no real powers, you can’t try to escape with them. “You’re going to tire yourself out” He sighs, watching you struggle to get out of his webs.

You yell something but it’s muffled. He looks down at you, grabbing your chin in his hand so you’re forced to look at him. He’s looking at you with stern eyes.

“Y/n, I told you to stop struggling. Be obedient. I’m not letting you out of those until you’re obedient” He says, his voice stern as if he’s talking to a small child or even a pet. You looking at him will such anger in your eyes.

You never looked at him like that before. Or his Y/n never looked at him like that. But he got you to fall in love with him once, he could do it again.

His gaze softens as he’s looking at you. “I’m sorry, love, did I scare you? I didn’t mean to yell at you” He gently pets your hair, he never wants to scare you. Your whimper as he leans down, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

He smiled slightly, walking over to the nightstand. He picks up your wedding ring, he finally has you again. He walks over, picking up your hand. Miguel tries to ignore how you flinch away at his touch. He slides the wedding ring onto your finger. It fits you perfectly.

He softly smiles, placing his forehead against your hand that’s now clad with a diamond ring. He sighed, content.

“My Y/n… I missed you…”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

(A/N: Eeeee, my first spiderverse fic!! I’m so excited, I hope you guys like it!! I changed up my formatting a bit so I hope you all like that too!! Also I’ve been getting a couple requests for Miguel where he speaks Spanish so if any darlings know how to speak Spanish and would be willing to help me, i’d greatly appreciate it 🙏🙏)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

[mournings-stars]

Hello hello! I’d like to request some platonic into romantic headcannons on an Alastor x fallen ex-exorcist/exterminator reader please :>

Small background: Reader fell for whatever reason and maybe a few days to a week (or even months-) afterward they end up striking a deal with Alastor, where they’ll be under his protection (because as skilled as they are it wouldn’t matter much with the entirety of hell on their ass) but he gets a pretty good portion of their power in return or maybe something else that you think Alastor would take.

Gender neutral reader pls

I’ve only read one fic or two with this concept and I am on my hands and knees for more lol

If you prefer a different writing format or feel this is too specific or OC-ish please please please feel free to change anything! I’m not very picky ^^

Thank you for your time and have a good day/night!

okay i LOVE this concept — i think it be the slowest fucking burn in the world tho like

you were never one of adam’s favorites, as you had the tendency to spare demons who seem harmless, but covered it nearly everytime

during this last extermination, however, he was trying to catch you fucking up the plan, so the minute you skipped over someone, he had lute launch her weapon at you

i doubt he’d let her kill you or anything, but he definitely just left you there for the demons to finish off, probably pinned to the ground with lute’s spear in your wing or something before he called all the other exorcists back (and he made sure to leave your halo so even if you did change clothes people knew what you were)

luckily (not really) you’d be in cannibal town, so before anyone could get to you, alastor’s probably just walking around like nothings happening (LMAO) and sees you

i doubt he’d make it known he saw you, like he’d definitely keep humming merrily down the street until he saw you struggling to get away from him as quickly as possible and tearing your wing even more

“my, my, let’s calm down, shall we?” he’d laugh and take the spear out of your wing. “isn’t that better, little bird?” but he’d say that while literally pointing the spear at you so don’t feel too safe

you’d definitely get defensive and shoot into the air with your weapon, ready to kill, and i think after seeing you still attempting to fly with that damaged of a wing (like its fucked up), he’d be impressed enough to drop the spear he had with a very big grin

“you’d better hide, little bird”

and you’d take his warning to fly off, quickly snatching lute’s weapon with yours in case you needed to defend yourself

he would literally just smile and watch you leave before continuing to hum and walk down the street

it’d probably be like a solid three days of hiding and having to fight for your life before the damage to your wing really messed with you and you had to force yourself to find a good hiding place

maybe you see charlie on the news and notice that no one seems to want to go to her hotel, so you force yourself to fly all the way there like a week after her horrible interview (ep 1) and practically collapse at the front door

of course you recognize vaggie and of course you practically run over and hug her despite the spear pointed at you… and of course that means vaggie either may or may not have to confess depending on if you pick up that no one knows or not (off the concept but im sparing chaggie heartbreak)

“who the fuck is this?” would be the first thing you hear from a spider demon and you’d have to explain what you were and hope they didn’t kill you — which, duh, charlie wouldn’t that let happen

“hello again, little bird,” would make everyone shut up because… how does alastor know you??? of course, he doesn’t answer their questions, just says hello and moves on like it’s all normal

your first day would totally be catching up with vaggie, probably breaking down because you needed to get back to heaven and had no way there

i think exorcists probably have a little bit of angelic power, but they probably can’t create portals without that power being given to them or something which means you have no way home and no where to go

vaggie and charlie of course tell you to stay, but once anyone shows up they’ll know you’re here and all of hell would be coming to the hotel to try and get to you — and you didn’t want to ruin what they had going (even if it was small you thought it was a great idea) so they probably give you a change of clothes, something more hellish, and tell you to stay until you have somewhere else to go

that would probably give alastor the perfect opportunity to talk to you privately and offer his protection

you wouldn’t take his offer at first, but once pentious shows up and the overlords somehow find out that charlie is hiding an angel in her hotel (vox and his stupid drones) you dont really have a choice

i dont think he’d ask for any power in return, but i do think you’d owe him a favor each time he has to protect you

vox would probably give subtle hints in all the programs he runs, so alastor would have to protect you very often

that meant if he ordered you to get rid of someone, you did it — whether that meant by the snap of your fingers with holy light (which they could potentially survive or respawn from) or killing them with your exorcist weapon was totally up to him sometimes, he just asked that you create a bouquet of flowers for his room

usually the people he had you “take care of” were repulsive enough, and you never minded creating things with your abilities, so you agreed to what he asked with ease

it’d be a little time before who he instructed you to “take care of” slowly shifted to anyone who wronged you

of course, he’d still protect you, but if he didn’t own their soul and he didnt have an angelic weapon, he couldn’t ensure that they wouldn’t come back, so he asked you, “do you think they’ll come back for you, little bird?” if you were unsure, or knew it was likely they’d come back for the person that ended up being the reason they had to go through the painful process of respawning, he’d tell you to just kill them

it’d probably come to a point where he stopped asking for favors, made sure you were alright, and told you to focus on what you needed to do while he “did his job”

i think eventually you’d find a place you think could be safe and once your wing is totally healed up and alright you’d say your goodbyes even though you weren’t that close with anyone but vaggie (also i feel like niffty would be down to talk to u about her bug battles or some shit)

anyway, when you go to say bye to alastor, he definitely cashes in his favor with a simple “hmm, no” cus he sees no reason for you to leave??? like so what everyone else’s lives are in danger by you being here… you’re safer here

so you’d stay, and it’d definitely make charlie happy because if she can get an angel back to heaven that’d prove she could actually do this

you’d be pissed at alastor for a while, but slowly, it seemed like demons understood that by coming for you, they were fucking with the radio demon (and we all know how that goes) so after a few months you were finally left alone

in that time you’d totally help spruce up the hotel while slowly forgetting why you wanted to go back

but every once in a while you’d have a very prolonged sadness about the situation… heaven was your home after all, and even if you liked the hotel, you could never leave because the minute you stepped outside, there was a line for your head — you were trapped there (like a bird in a cage — hence the nickname)

i think even though everyone likes having you there, vaggie would eventually bring up lucifer (like he can literally open a portal…)

but immediately alastor is not fucking having it and he cashes in another one of his pent up favors, saying that getting back to heaven through a fallen angel was the dumbest thing you could do if you wanted it to look like you were the one wronged in this situation (he has a point i fear)

i think this is where you kind of accept that you’re not going home and maybe just give up because 1. you can’t go to the heaven embassy since you’d just be met with adam and 2. the only person that could get you contact wasn’t a good option

i think now would be when alastor recognizes how much you want to go home and finds himself feeling bad?? for keeping you, but he just wants you to get home safely and surely

still, once he sees that you literally wont leave your room and have contemplated taking your own halo he compromises to let you try going to the heaven embassy to see if you could get a meeting with anyone but adam

you said it wasn’t possible, but he insisted “i can’t have you looking so upset all the time, birdie” he’d say while using his hand to squish your cheeks into a smile just to make you laugh

so you’d go — i think you’d totally get there safely but once demons see an exorcist angel coming out of the heaven embassy, you have to fight the minute you step out of the building

you can 100% see holy light from the hotel, so the minute alastor sees a golden beam he’s out the door

you can handle your own, so you fought them off, but i’d imagine you get injured and that’s what really makes alastor realize he’s falling for you cus he’s seething

even just a minuscule amount of golden blood on you had him tearing apart any demon who even looked like they’d been near you

i hate to say it but i don’t think this would be a happy ending — reader loves heaven even though they hate being an exorcist and alastor knows that so he’d definitely keep his feelings hidden and if you showed any signs of feelings for him he’d be terrified because an angel falling, literally falling because thats what would happen to you, for someone like him would never get you back home

obviously it’d come to a point where he doesn’t want you to leave, but at the same time, he’d never keep you

if i did end up writing an actual fic of this it’d probably end on a bit of a cliffhanger ex. reader getting accepted back and being hesitant with alastor’s last favor just him saying, “if you want to stay for anyone, don’t,” and letting you decide whether or not to go back

OR reader being accepted back but still having to be an exorcist, so the next time they see alastor is the finale where adam would 100% put them against him

[lee-laurent]

Scheiße - Luke Hughes

Summary: In which Luke falls for Nico's friend despite the language barrier. Or in which Sofia dates an American boy even though she barely understands him... at first.

Content: fluff, a tiny bit of angst (sort of), implied sex but no smut, making out

also this fic is formatted a bit different! it's kinda like a timeline of Luke and Sofia's relationship!

notes: everything in italics is in swiss german. easier than having to translate everything!! this one is for all my other multilingual queens/kings :) i tried my best to represent the struggle that i felt trying to learn english, but obviously everyone's experience is going to be different. the squirrel scene is very much taken from an actual experience i had haha

Meeting

"Stop picking at your nails, Sof. Everyone is going to love you," Nico attempted to calm his best friend.

"You don't know that. They could hate me," she argued, continuing to pick at her cuticles.

"Well... I'm their captain. So, if they do anything that makes you upset..."

"Don't threaten your team for me, Neeks."

"Just trying to reassure you, love."

The Devils were having a little pre-season get together with all the players and their significant others. Nico's best friend, Sofia, had recently made the move to America in hopes to improve her English; so, naturally he had decided to bring her along to help her make some friends in New Jersey.

Nervously, she followed behind Nico as they walked onto the roof of Nicole and Jesper's building. He placed a comforting hand on her back, leading her towards a group of WAGs.

"Nico! Hi!" Nicole smiled, "And you must be Sofia! Nico talks about you all the time."

"Hi," Sofia smiled sheepishly, playing with the hem of her skirt.

"Would you like a drink?" the blonde asked.

"Oh, sure. Thank you."

"I'll be with the boys. Let me know if you need anything," Nico smiled, walking off towards a group of hollering men.

Sofia fell into a steady flow of conversation with the Devils' significant others. Well, as steady as it could be with her limited knowledge of English.

"How long have you been seeing Nico?" one of the girls asked, taking a sip from her cocktail.

Sofia choked on her drink, giggling at the idea of being with Nico. "He is my best friend. We are not toether."

"Omg! I'm so sorry," the other girl blushed.

"It is fine! No stress," Sof smiled proudly at the use of the expression that Nico had recently taught her.

"So, anyone special back in Switzerland?" Nicole questioned.

"Oh, um, no. I... too focused on work. No time," she explained.

"Omg! We could set you up with one of the single guys on the team!"

"Oh... it's okay," Sofia giggled, taking a long sip of her drink.

"Let us know if you change your mind," Nicole winked, before starting a story about something that had happened at work earlier in the week.

"Sofia! Come here!" Nico beckoned her over to where he stood with a few players.

"Coming! It was nice meeting you all," she smiled politely at the girls.

"Wait! Give me your number! I'll add you to our group chat," Simon's girlfriend exclaimed. Sofia was giddy as she typed her number into her newly found friend's phone.

"Guys, meet Sofia," Nico smiled, placing his hand on her back once again. "Sof, meet Luke, Jack, Timo, and Dawson."

"Hi," Jack smiled widely.

"Nico always talks of you guys. Nice to meet you," the girl smiled, scooting closer into Nico's side. She was not a fan of all the eyes on her at the moment.

"Nice to see you again," Timo grinned. They'd met over the summer when Nico was training.

Luke could see her shoulders untense at the sound of her native language.

"You as well. It's crazy to meet everyone Nico talks about all the time. Like, sometimes I was convinced they were all in his head," she giggled, earning a glare from her best friend.

Luke, Jack, and Dawson chuckled awkwardly, completely unaware of what the conversation in front of them was about. They could be shit talking for all they knew.

"So... what do you do for work?" Dawson asked.

"Oh, fashion photography!"

"Ever tried sports photography?"

"I'm not as good at it," she nodded.

"She's being humble. She just prefers fashion," Nico laughed. While Nico talked to the boys, Sofia couldn't help but notice that the tallest boy in the group had yet to speak to her. Did he not like her? She was trying her best. She caught his eyes for a moment, but he quickly looked down at the beer in his hands. She was upset that one of Nico's close friends didn't like her, but she couldn't win them all.

Crushing

It was the third or fourth time that Sofia had hungout with the WAGs. This time she'd invited them to have their wine night at her and Nico's apartment. The girls were sat in the living room, chatting animatedly about the upcoming season.

"I know that Simon is so excited for his rookie season! He told me that Luke is feeling the same way," Simon's girlfriend smiled.

"I- I don't think Luke likes me," Sofia spoke up, swishing her wine around in the glass.

"What?!" Nicole exclaimed, "Why do you think that?"

"He never talks to me. And when I go to stand with Neeks, he walks away."

"That's funny because Curtis told me something completely different," Reanne smiled cheekily.

"What did he say?" Sofia asked, chugging the rest of her wine, before pouring herself some more.

"That Luke has a biiiiiig crush on a certain someone."

"Ooo! Sofia!" the girls cheered.

"But... he doesn't talk to me."

"Luke has no play, girl. He's probably just wayyy too nervous to talk you cause you're so stunning."

"He thinks I'm cute?" Sofia blushed.

"Duh! Who wouldn't? Do you think he's cute?" Nicole pressed.

Sofia pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide her growing smile, "He is like... how do I say it? My..."

"Type?"

"Yes! He's my type."

"Can I tell Curtis? Maybe he can talk some sense into Luke."

"We should let them come together naturally, Reanne," Nicole giggled.

"Okay, well... next game you're talking to him. Sound good?"

Sofia nodded happily. She couldn't believe that Luke had a crush on her! She felt like a high schooler writing in her diary about the cute boy in her class.

First Date

Sofia stood in the bathroom mirror, fixing her hair for the 15th time. She hadn't gone on a date in over a year and she was shitting herself. Luke had asked her out after their most recent win against the Rangers. She hadn't exactly told Nico who were date was with, but he knew she was going on one.

"You look beautiful, Sof," Nico smiled as she walked into the kitchen.

"It's not too much?" she asked, pulling at the bottom of her top.

"Are you going to wear a jacket?"

"Yeah, my jean one."

"I think that's perfect. Where are you guys going?"

"Some pizza place. Then we're going on a walk, I think."

"Cute. How'd you meet?"

"Oh, at the Rangers game. He came up to me when I was waiting for you."

"He wasn't a Rangers fan... was he?"

"No," she giggled, "He was wearing a Devils' jersery."

"Good. Have fun! You'll be back tonight?"

"Yes, Neeks. I'm not going to his on the first date," she giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Stay safe! I love you!"

"Love you too," she grabbed her purse, blowing him one last kiss before disappearing out the door.

"Hi," Luke smiled, "I like your outfit."

"Thank you, Luke. You look nice too," she admired the way his chest looked in the blue polo shirt he was wearing.

"Pizza?"

"Pizza."

The walk to the pizza place was full of laughter. Sofia wasn't sure she'd ever felt so confident in her English as when she was around Luke. He wasn't condescending at all, helping her when she asked and waiting when she didn't.

"Have you ever played hockey?" Luke asked, cutting himself a slice of pizza.

"No. That is not really... my thing?"

Luke nodded in understanding.

"But I love watching. You are very good."

"Thanks, Sofia. I have seen the outfits you've helped Nico make. Do you think you could help me?"

"You always wear same two suits," she giggled, covering her mouth.

"Don't bully me!"

"Sorry. I would love to help you, Luke."

"I, uh, wanted to apologize for ignoring you when we first met. I was under the impression that you were with Nico, so I was trying to push my attraction away."

"Nico is like a brother. I never think of him other ways. Promise."

"It's fine, Sof. No worries. I just being dumb."

"Maybe you are always dumb, Lukey."

Luke cackled, reaching out and holding her hand across the table.

"I'll just pretend that was your lack of English and not you bullying my again."

"I would never bully you," she smirked.

First Kiss

Sofia was cuddled up into Luke's side on the sofa, his hand holding tightly onto the dip of her waist.

"I can put the German captions on," Luke offered, as he watched Sofia's face scrunch up for umpteenth time.

"But maybe that would distract you."

"It won't, babe. I'll turn them on."

Sofia blushed at the pet name. Luke grabbed the remote, clicking on the German caption option on the film they were watching.

"What the hell is Eichhörnchen?" Luke asked, butchering the pronunciation.

"Eichhörnchen?" she giggled, correcting him, "It's squirrel."

"Say that again?"

"Squirrel."

"You say it so funny. I'm sorry."

"The 'skw' sound... that is not in German. Stop hating."

"Sorry, love," Luke giggled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Sofia looked up at him as he pulled away. She placed a gentle hand on the side of his face, leading him back down.

"What're you doing?" he whispered.

"Can we kiss?"

"Wha- what?"

"Can we kiss?" she asked just as confidently as before.

Luke nodded, running his tongue over his bottom lip. He leaned forward, capturing her top lip between his. He smiled into the kiss, ultimately breaking it. Sofia pouted, pulling him back in for more.

Wearing His Jersey/Becoming His Girlfriend

"Do a spin for me?" Luke smiled from his spot on his bed. Sofia was dressed in her panties and a jersey with 'Hughes 43' plastered on the back. She spun around giggling as he got off the bed, picking her up.

"You. Are. So. Fucking. Beautiful," he said between kisses, hands sneaking under the jersey to give her exposed ass a small squeeze. She gasped, smacking his chest.

"Jack will be home soon, I should go."

"Do you have to?" he whined, sitting down and pulling her onto his lap.

"Yes, Lukey. I'll be at the game, wearing my new jersey," she giggled, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He attempted to lay down and bring her with him, but she was quick to stand up. She walked over to the side of the bed, hopping into her jeans. The vintage bell bottoms looked amazing on her and Luke made sure to let her know, letting out a low whistle as she walked out the door.

"A Hughes' jersey?" Nico questioned after the game, pulling her into a hug.

"Thought I'd switch it up. Can't always be repping the Hischier one."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Luke let me borrow it."

"I'm glad you two have become friends. I was worrying you weren't going to befriend any of the guys."

"We're the same age. It just made sense," she shrugged.

"You never told me how that date you went on was."

"Oh, didn't really work out. He just wanted to use me to get free tickets," she lied.

"Sounds about right. You'll find someone, Sof. Don't worry."

"And if I don't?"

"You've got me," he winked, making her laugh. "Need a ride home?"

"Yes! Let me say thanks to Luke again."

"I'll meet you at the car," he smiled, kissing her cheek as he headed out.

"Look at you," Luke whispered as he pulled her into a 'friendly' hug. "Look so good in my jersey."

"Stop being so horny," she giggled, pulling away from him.

"Can't help it when my girlfriend looks sooooo fine."

"Girlfriend?"

"Sorry, I- uh, I just assumed because we spend all this time together. But if you don't want to be my girlfriend, I understand. I shouldn't have-"

"Luke."

"Yeah?"

"I'd love to be your girlfriend."

"Oh."

She pulled him into one more quick hug, before skipping off to meet Nico.

Nico Finding Out

Luke hummed as Sofia straddled his lap, running her hands through his hair. He pressed a kiss to her jaw, another on her neck, then one on her collarbone before connecting their lips again.

"I missed you," he mumbled.

"Missed you too."

The boys had been on a week long roadie, and now Sofia and Luke couldn't keep their hands off each other.

"Mmm, I love this perfume. Is it new?" he asked, kissing her neck again.

"Yeah," her voice was shaky, gasping when he nipped at her jaw.

"God, Sofia. You're perfect."

"Luke."

"Hm?"

"Kiss me."

His hands gripped her waist as their lips met in another passionate kiss. They laid down on the couch, Luke holding himself up as his girlfriend giggled below him.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I just missed this."

"Me too, babe."

Sofia's hands moved under his top, feeling the smooth skin of his chest. Just as Luke was going to ask if he could do the same, a new voice echoed through the apartment.

"Sofia? Who's here?"

"What?"

"Who's here? There's some white sneakers at the door. Not mine."

"Oh, Luke's here! We're watching TV."

The couple scrambled to sit up and fix their dishevled looks.

"Hey, Luke! How's it going, man?" Nico entered the living room, dapping up his teammate.

"Good, good. How're you?"

"Good. You didn't tell me he was coming over," Nico turned to his roommate.

"Yeah... spur of the moment."

"Is that a hickey?" Nico asked in German, as not to embarass Sofia.

"What? No."

"It totally is! Who gave you a hickey?"

"It's not a hickey, Nico."

"Was it him?!" Nico gasped.

"What?! No!"

"It was! You're such a shit liar! How long?"

"Beginning of the season," she sighed, finally giving in.

"This is so funny! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I'm not a shit liar, for the record. You had no idea until now."

"Was that date with him?!"

"Nico!"

"I'm right here... if you're talking about me," Luke scratched the back of his neck.

"One second, Luke," Sofia smiled. "It was, yeah. I... I was nervous to tell you. Was worried you'd think I was using you to get with him."

"That's funny, Sof. I couldn't care less. As long as you're happy."

Sofia stood up, pulling her best friend into a tight hug.

"I'm watching you though, Rusty. Hurt her and I'll hurt you," Nico threatened, heading to his bedroom.

"He knows?!" Luke gasped.

Guess Sofia had some explaining to do.

[metaphoricgibberish]

(my masterlist got deleted somehow idk?)

hi, hello - my name is sara and i write depraved things about pedro pascal characters. i'm not super into writing one-shots (love reading them tho) so all my stories are in series format. my DMs are always open, i love talking fics, pedro, tlou, narcos, and anything at all regarding men old enough to be my father.

happy reading, i appreciate you all tremendously <3

To the Light [ joel miller ]

"He was such a greedy fuck, when had that happened? What was it about her that had turned him into this… desperate, frenzied, fucking insatiable man that had stooped to the point of planning his entire day around getting a glimpse of her. It wasn’t just one thing, he knew that, rather it was an amalgamation of everything about her, everything he could see, everything he knew, and the large cavern of things he didn’t know, but wanted to so badly it ate away at him, like a virus, like fucking cordyceps, surging through his body and altering his brain chemistry, his ambitions and intent, so that it was just her, his sole focus was just her."

summary: Joel finds a young woman being held hostage by a group of men while he's out on patrol one day. He brings her back to Jackson, where she's given the opportunity to have something resembling a real life, for the first time. The two of them orbit around each other, destined to crash, if both of their reservations don't get in the way.

pairing: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 96.8k (completed)

see tags and warnings on ao3

____________

Joel finds the love of his life lost in the woods.

Read on AO3

Fic playlist on Spotify

Read insatiable (a To the Light one-shot) here.

Read hearth (a To the Light one-shot) here.

Dawn [ javier peña ]

"It had been wrong, back then, his feelings for her. He'd known that and that's why he'd never let anything happen between the two of them. But he'd always been weak. That first time he'd seen her after Richie had gone off to fight a war just as brutal and useless and the one he'd been fighting out in Colombia, that first time he'd really seen her— just a glimpse as she left the market, bag hoisted up on her hip, long, wavy hair bouncing behind her, shapely legs visible in that little yellow sundress that hugged her waist just right— he'd been a fucking goner."

summary: Javier Peña returns to his hometown after leaving the DEA. He doesn't want the undeserving praise everyone is trying to push on him, he doesn't really want anything at all, beyond a quiet life on his father's ranch, such a stark contrast to the atrocities he'd witnessed over the ten years away. But there's one familiar face that he can't seem to shake no matter how hard he tries.

pairing: javier peña x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 80.8k (completed) a.n. first chapter of my new Javi fic is up! each chapter will be named after a Lana Del Rey song with a corresponding lyric (idk Javi is Lana coded to me). I hope you enjoy <3

see tags and warnings on ao3

____________

Javier Peña falls for his best friend's little sister.

Read on AO3

Nights Like This One [ joel miller ]

"Joel couldn't resist the tug any longer, finally succumbing to the dull ache at the base of his spine as he turned around and locked eyes with her— bright fucking blue, twinkling animatedly when they met his. Most of the time her eyes looked hollow, devastatingly so, but he'd noticed that when they got into these bickering matches her eyes lightened, and so then how was he ever expected to stop?"

summary: Joel Miller is hired by an elderly woman to fix up her home. However, in the middle of the renovations, she dies and her daughter, Lily, moves from California to Austin to live in her mother's home. Joel continues to work on the house despite the two of them constantly butting heads. Tensions rise and the two are destined to crash whether they like it or not.

(Initially takes place pre-outbreak, story spans through outbreak day, all the way to 2023).

pairing: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 142.6k (completed) a.n. hi my friends! a few things: i did change sarah's age because i wanted to, i have creative liberty this is MY FUCKIN STORY!! lol. also i know nothing about construction, so i apologize, watch me make shit up with only google as my guide. please don't hate or be mean to my OC, she's going through some shit and the roles will be reversed later on after outbreak day, so let her be the emotionally unavailable, cold one for now. chapter length will be much shorter than most of my other fics solely because this has so many chapters. i'm writing it more in novel format than fic format, so forgive me. blame my useless, $120k creative writing degree. i hope you enjoy this. i'm having a lot of fun writing it.

see tags and warnings on ao3

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Joel Miller finds the love of his life right before the world ends.

Read on AO3

Fic playlist on Spotify

The Human Condition [ therapist!joel miller au ]

"Joel passed his palm over his mouth, his eyes drifting over to the clock on his office wall for perhaps the fifth time in the last thirty minutes. He dreaded his one o'clock appointment, but not for the reasons that he should. He dreaded it because he looked forward to it far more than was appropriate, for reasons that would surely get him fired."

summary: Violet Wood is lost, thinks perhaps she's been lost since the day she was born.

Joel Miller is a psychiatrist who has experienced a tremendous loss of his own.

Neither of them are expecting each other.

pairing: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 26.4+ (ongoing series - 5/10 chapters up) warnings: extreme trigger warnings for suicidal behavior/attempts, mental health discussion, EDs, self-harm, depression, anxiety a.n. i have been thinking about this forever, and i'm really excited to start sharing, albeit slowly. hope you all enjoy <3

see more tags and warnings on ao3

____________

The Joel Miller Therapist AU

Read on AO3

Spotify Playlist Here

Sanctuary [ javier peña ]

"She glanced over at him, her lips hinting at a smile as his pretty brown eyes locked on hers. She wanted him to tell her something now, not that she had taken him here as a greedy means of give and take, even though that’s all their relationship was. Give and take. Just sex. If she couldn’t know his last name or why he had scars all over his chest, then she wanted to know what he thought was beautiful, what he thought was ugly, what existed in both spaces for him."

summary: Takes place after the third season-- Javier moves to San Francisco to escape what he'd witnessed in Colombia over the past several years. The DEA is desperate to get him down to Mexico to help take down the Guadalajara Cartel, but Javier isn't so sure he wants to continue down that path. His decision only becomes increasingly more difficult when he meets a bartender named Emma, whose commitment issues seem to mirror his own.

pairing: javier peña x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 93k (complete)

see tags and warnings on ao3

____________

Javier Peña meets his match in the form of a little bartender in San Francisco.

Read on AO3

[theamberwriter]

The Perfect Blend

Modern!Alpha!Levi Ackerman x Omega!GN!Reader || Tea Shop AU

Word count: 6.3k

So this is the first fic I’ve written in a while, and I cannot remember the last time I actually watched AoT. But my thirst for Levi can never be tamed. I hope this does him some justice. Also, I’m on my iPad. So the formatting may be a little weird.

Companion Art: [1] [2]

☕️📚

The Stem and Spine was the shiney new bookstore/tea shop opening on the corner on Prescott and Main. It seemed like ages since anyone had tried opening a store there. It was such a quaint spot. The historical building had detailed moldings, uneven red bricks, and chipped, dark blue paint. Six large, angled windows gave a panoramic view out to the bustling streets in your little college town.

It was the perfect spot to stop, drink tea, and people watch.

You were looking forward to opening day. You’d spent months crawling through every bookshop, online and in person, as well as every thrift shop trying to find one specific book. No one seemed to know of it’s existence. So you were silently begging the universe to cut you a break and let this new bookshop carry what you were looking for.

You’d only recently discovered their grand opening. An awkward omega gave you a flier. They were handing them out as people were leaving the grocery store. You were really excited, but maybe that was your inner bookworm talking.

Since the shop was right down the road, you decided to walk there on opening morning. You weren’t really expecting any sort of crowd. All of the college kids had gone home for the summer, so the streets had emptied out some. You enjoyed how quiet the summers were. So the long, winding line leading from the door of Stem and Spine was definitely a surprise.

You didn’t need to look for the book that badly. You could come in a month or so when things had died down some. You were going to head back home when you heard the people by you talking:

“I heard the guy running this place is hot as fuck,” said one.

“Did you hear what that girl in our study group said?” asked the other. The first shook their head. “Apparently his scent is like, super strong.”

The friend grinned, running their tongue over their teeth. “I can‘t wait to find out.”

Oh no, you mentally groaned then took a nice deep breath. The scents came one right after the other. A mangled mash up of pheromones. This line was almost entirely betas and omegas. And they were here for that alpha. You were never going to be able to shop there at this rate! As an omega yourself, you just knew they all would come from miles around until this guy was claimed.

You decided it was better to queue up, then maybe you’d actually get a chance to set foot inside. You waited for hours. You were sure those ahead of you would linger as long as possible and try to make an impression. That meant everyone had to stand in line longer.

By the time employees came down the line and told people they were closing for the night, your feet were killing you and your phone battery was nearly dead. All day and you’d only gotten a quarter of the way to the door! You could still see the spot you’d started from. A few people tried to get rowdy, complaining it was unfair that they’d been waiting all day. But their steam fizzled when employees threatened to call the police.

For two weeks, you checked the line for Stem and Spine. Day after day the line seemed to get longer. You saw a lot of returning faces, they must’ve been desperate. You even saw a handful of people getting escorted out by police! You also heard more and more rumors about what everyone was lining up for.

I heard he’s one of those hot, stoic types. I’d love to break him.

I heard that if you’re a beta or omega, just the guy’s scent is enough to make you jizz in your pants.

I heard he doesn’t like needy omegas, good thing I’m not like the others.

I heard he’s starting an entire harem - I’d love to be a part of that!

This is my eighth time going. I swear, I’m on the verge of making him my mate!

The rumors went on and on, getting more and more absurd. You wondered what this guy was really like, if he was really worth all of this. You weren’t interested, you just wanted a book! If anything, this was annoying. You figured it was probably annoying for him too, especially if he just wanted to do his job and not have to worry about anyone throwing themselves at him.

Finally, on a Sunday afternoon, you were able to set foot in Stem and Spine. It was quiet. No three block long line in sight. Sure, it was still busy but these people actually wanted books. They were all glued to the shelves, actually talking about books, and showing each other covers.

Inside was better than you’d imagined it. Everything was cream, gold, crimson, and navy blue. In one half was the tea shop. There were shelves of tea and accessories that lined the walls; loose leaf, prepackaged, diffusers, tea pots, honey sticks, spoon rests. As well as a long barista counter that had a large chalkboard and sizable drink list that was nothing but tea. There were a small handful of metal tables and chairs, and you remembered seeing some outside with umbrellas as well.

The other half of the store was the bookshop. There was row after row of books. Mostly fiction from your first glance. There were also displays for local authors and a shelf of new arrivals. You couldn’t wait to spend the day combing through. The entire vibe was cozy and the scent of jasmine wafting around was relaxing. You did wonder, however, how you were able to get in. Had the alpha been claimed? You didn’t smell anything overwhelming.

“Aaawwww, what do you mean he’s not here?!” You heard a girl whine. You were just starting on the second row of books.

“Mr. Ackerman isn’t here,” said the employee, irritation clear in their voice. “And no, I don’t know if he’ll be back today.”

The girl groaned loudly, but you didn’t hear her complain anymore. You figured she must’ve left. You wondered if she was the one who’d managed multiple visits.

“This has really gotten out of hand,” you heard the employee down the aisle say. They’d been stocking more books. “Great for sales, though.”

“That bad?” you asked. The employee looked at you, she looked tired. Her name tag read Mikasa.

“You have no idea,” she sighed. “I like working here. Levi is my cousin and a great boss, but these fangirls have just been too much. You’d think the fact that he ignores them would be a turn off. But they just keep coming.”

You didn’t realize you’d spent your whole afternoon in Stem and Spine until Mikasa came around to give you a five minute heads up. You were disappointed you didn’t find what you were looking for. But you still managed to find a couple hidden gems you were excited about. Maybe what you wanted was just too obscure.

You brought your books to the counter. As they rang you up, you noticed a clip board with a paper that read What Books Would You Like to See at Stem and Spine? Under that was a long list of handwritten titles and author names. You quickly scribbled down the book you were looking for. At least now there was a chance for it to appear.

Over the next month, you managed two visits to Stem and Spine every week. You and the employees actually started to recognize each other. You also started to see titles you recognized from the list. The mysterious Mr. Ackerman, however, still managed to escape your sight. Every time you went, there was a small posse outside just trying to grab a whiff.

It wasn’t until your first visit of the following month that you finally laid eyes on him. You’d just finished a series and were looking to start a new one. So you wandered over to the new arrivals section. You’d been there about half an hour when a heavy wave of lavender hit you. It filled your head, murking up your thoughts. You figured this had to be him, and the rumors were true - his scent was another beast entirely.

You shook your head to focus your thoughts. You liked this store, so this was something you were going to have to get used to if you wanted to keep shopping there. But you were also extremely concerned - if he was here, then that long line and hoard of omegas and betas would be too. You wanted to leave, but you were stuck between two books with money only for one.

You probably should’ve noticed the scent getting stronger. But you were so focused on reviewing the synopsis on both and thumbing through that you were oblivious. You didn’t wake from your stupor until there was a flutter of movement beside you. You glanced to your left to see a dark haired man in a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He set down the few boxes he was carrying.

This man, you realized, was where the lavender wall had come from. This was the infamous Levi Ackerman, owner of Stem and Spine. Mikasa had told you a bit about him in previous weeks. You liked talking to her whenever you came in.

“It’s rude to stare,” he said in a surprising tenor. His back was still to you. You cursed under your breath and turned back to the shelf. That was one way to embarrass yourself. You began musing between the books in your hands again.

After a long moment of silence, a voice said, “I’d pick the one in your right hand.”

You looked over to meet a bored pair of silver eyes. “What?”

“I’ve read them both. The book in your right hand was far more interesting.”

“Oh cool,” you said slowly. “Thanks. I would’ve been here for ages.”

You quickly placed the other one back in its place and scuttled away. You were just going to have to take his word for it. You didn’t want to hover anymore than you had. At the front, they packaged up your book and you were swiftly out the door.

Levi had been right, the book was very good and you were excited that there were four more books to follow with a movie planned. The next time you tried to go to Stem and Spine it was packed again. There was a line down the block and you just didn’t have the time to wait. Your shift at work started soon, and all you’d wanted to do was thank him for the recommendation.

You decided to head straight to work instead. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long to see the bookstore owner again. The wall of lavender hit you before you saw him. You watched everyone around you turn to stare. It didn’t seem to phase him in the least.

Levi came to the counter and briefly talked with your coworker, who couldn’t seem to keep a straight face. When they disappeared to look for someone, Levi waited at the counter. This was probably going to be weird, but you really did want to thank him for helping you find a new series you absolutely loved.

“Hey,” you started, the book in your hand. He glanced at you briefly. “I, uh. You probably don’t remember me, but you recommended this book to me last week. And I, uh, I just wanted to say thank you. It was really good.”

“I told you it was better,” he stated. “I remember the other one you had - the author writes shit. It doesn’t have any good character development and there were a few glaring plot holes.”

“Oh, that’s good to know - I’ll definitely take that off my reading list.” You laughed awkwardly, carefully tucking the book away in your bag. “I was, uh, I was going to stop by the shop earlier. See if you were there - so I could thank you. But that line was just - woo!”

“I’m going to have to do something about that.” You weren’t sure if that was directed at you, but Levi seemed lost in thought.

Your coworker soon came back with someone in tow. They talked for a minute and then Levi and his intoxicating scent were gone. Afterwards, your coworker could not shut up about him. There was no way you were going to tell them about the bookshop.

In the days that followed, the line to get into the shop shrunk. But there was a continuous crowd that flurried around. A few employees you recognized seemed to be doing crowd control.

“I don’t care that you want to see him,” said one. “You don’t actually want a book or tea! It’s clogging up the shop.”

So Levi was doing something about the outrageous line. You were looking forward to being able to shop there again. The employees inside seemed less stressed when you went in and, at least, you weren’t brushing shoulders with anyone.

“Hey, [Name]!” Mikasa called as she spied you. She waved from her spot at the book counter where she was talking with Levi. You waved back at her, accidentally met Levi’s eyes, and then shuffled off into the book aisle to grab the next installment of the series.

You paid for your book, then went over to the tea shop. You didn’t know much about tea, but you figured you might as well start trying the different blends. There was a small display set up that recommended different teas for certain books. Like a nice citrusy Lady Grey to go with Pride and Prejudice.

“I don’t think that tea pairs with your book.”

You knew that voice. You turned to find Levi there with you, hovering, observing as you skimmed through the tea bags. You looked down at the pouch of English Breakfast Tea in your hand.

“You don’t think so?”

“You’ll want a black currant tea.” Levi reached just above your head and pulled down a paper bag with a raven on it. “I’m partial to this one.”

You took the bag, turning it over in your hand. You put the original pouch you grabbed back. Awkwardly, you smiled at him. “Uh, thanks. Guess I’ll go pay for this then.”

You weren’t sure what to make of it, it was probably nothing. But this encounter left you with a strange feeling. There were a few more like that to follow too.

“You’ll want a different tea for that,” he said as you picked up the third book.

“I can’t just make the black currant one?” you asked, baffled.

“Each book has a flavor that it pairs with. This one is more of a mint. If you pick wrong, you'll ruin the whole damn experience.” Levi turned the full power of his eyes on you. You were frozen under them. “Just like each person has their scent. Each scent has something that pairs nicely with it. For example, mine is lavender, yours is more of a sage. The two go well together.”

“Oh,” was all you could manage. That was the first time you felt the little flutter in your chest.

Every time you went to Stem and Spine to purchase a book Levi was there over your shoulder. He’d direct you to whichever tea he felt best went with it. He even started talking about the nuances in the flavors. How the aromatics helped, which shape of tea bag was optimal, ideally how long to steep it for. You became very knowledgeable about tea in the following visits. You were sure you'd be an expert by the time you went to pick up the last book in the series he showed you. But nowhere near as knowledgeable as Levi.

The next time you went, you saw Mikasa at the counter speaking with Levi.

"You can have the days off. Just fill out the request form," Levi said as you walked up to them.

"You're going on vacation soon, Mikasa?" you asked.

She turned her eyes to you. "My mate is going into his rut soon. I always make sure to take those days off to help him with his nest or anything else he needs."

You smiled at her. "That's really thoughtful, Mikasa. I hope, if I find someone, that they're like you."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't have a mate?"

"No." You shook your head and shrugged.

You could've sworn you caught Mikasa giving Levi a nudge and a sharp look. Levi gave her a brief glare back. Then his eyes turned to you, his gaze relaxed.

"Why?" he asked.

You laughed humorlessly. "No one's ever really stuck around or I broke up with them. One guy tried to get me to sell my book collection. He said that they were just a waste of time and money. So I decided that he was a waste of my time. There's nothing worse than someone who doesn't understand your hobbies."

Levi said nothing but hummed in response.

"Do you have a mate out there in this big wide world, Levi?" you asked.

"No," he spat curtly.

You didn't mean to gape, but you couldn't deny you were shocked. "Really?"

"What?"

"I'm just surprised, ya know? With your strong scent and how handsome you are... I just figured by now someone would have come along. That's all."

Levi looked away from you. "My scent is more trouble than it's worth. All it does is draw shitty little brats."

You chuckled. "I can see that, considering the long line the first month you guys were open. I also noticed the growing wall of banned people. – Well I just came in to grab something really fast before work. My shift starts soon."

The college students were starting back up for the autumn semester. The streets began to fill up with cars of fresh faces, new dreams, and overstuffed suitcases. You had a feeling there'd be a new influx of people at Stem and Spine.

The hunch was correct.

Before you knew it, the store was once again filled wall to wall with people seeking Levi's attention. He seemed increasingly agitated every time you saw him. Then he once again disappeared for a few weeks, causing the crowds to thin.

“I heard the author is writing the final installment,” Mikasa said as she rang you up. “It’s supposed to be out in a few months.”

“Really? I thought this was the last book?” You raised an eyebrow. You weren’t upset, just surprised. The story felt like it could easily be wrapped up in one book. You hoped it wasn’t going to be one of those strangling the plot lines scenarios, where the whole series goes down in flames right at the end.

“Nope, one more.” Mikasa shook her head. “I’m sure Levi will be upset.”

“Does he really like this series?”

“No.”

You met her with a curious gaze. Her eyes gave you nothing in return. You’d never really noticed how similar she and Levi looked until then. Both with silky black hair and unwavering grey eyes.

"I don't smell him around today. I take it he's still in hiding? I guess I'm on my own to find a tea, then," you laughed.

Mikasa handed you your bag, it was brown paper with a dark red book and tea leaf stamped onto it. You had a small collection you kept folded under your sink and used for various things.

"Hey, before you go," Mikasa started. "I'd like to consider us friends."

You nodded and smiled at her. "I'd like to think so."

"So then would you like to hang out when I'm not working? I was thinking about going to see the movie for this, it comes out soon. Would you like to go? I'll buy the tickets."

"That'd be awesome! I can pay you back."

Mikasa laughed, then waved her hand dismissively. "It's no issue, don't worry about it. Give me your number, and we can pick a date."

You exchanged numbers then wandered over to the teashop. You were only a little upset to be tea shopping alone. You were so used to having company. You wondered what type of tea Levi would recommend. You had to admit, you were starting to look forward to your shopping visits more knowing he was there. You were happier to see him than Mikasa most days. You were grateful for your newly formed friendship, so it made you feel a bit guilty. But you couldn’t deny that there was something soothing about listening to Levi’s passion for tea.

You thumbed through the pages of the book. Skimming without trying to spoil anything for yourself. You were just trying to get the feel. What flavor would this book be? Something dark and fruity, like a black currant? Or something a little lighter, more classic like the mint? You settled on an orange bergamot, this would have to work. You paid and then walked over to your job.

About half way through your shift, a familiar tsunami of lavender smacked you in the face. Levi strode casually through the lobby looking bored as ever. He had a bag in his hand. You wondered if he’d been out shopping. You met his gaze, immediately diverting your own back to your paperwork.

“Mikasa said you were in the shop today,” he said, the scent rolling off of him was strange and heavy.

You looked up, getting sucked into those silver pools. “Yeah, I came to get the next book in the series. I figured you were still keeping your distance. - Did you need my help with something? Did you need John again?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t pick a shitty tea.”

You scrutinized his face. It held absolutely nothing. He really came all this way to ask what tea you picked? Well, it was just the next street over. But he still had to go out of his way to see you. He didn’t have to do that. Your heart fluttered.

“I skimmed through, but I’m not sure I picked the right one.” You handed over the bag of tea you bought.

Levi rolled his eyes. “Tech, don’t spoil it for yourself, idiot.”

He took the bag, examining it thoroughly. He considered the ingredients for a long moment. You could practically see the cogs turning in his mind. Finally Levi handed it back over to you.

“Interesting choice,” he started. “But it works. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks, I really tried to put your lessons into practice,” you laughed. There was a long stretch of silence. “I suppose you’re probably going back to Stem and Spine, I won’t keep you any longer. But I appreciate you stopping by, I didn’t think you remembered that I worked here.”

Levi stood a moment longer, then placed the bag he’d been carrying on the counter. It was from his store. “I brought this in case you picked wrong. - I’d still like you to have it.”

You stood. “No, I couldn’t -”

“I insist.”

“At least let me lay you for it. Or exchange it for the one I bought!”

Levi was already walking away. “Just take the fucking thing. I picked it out for you.”

Then Levi was gone, but his lavender scent still swam in your head. You took the bag from the counter, peering in to inspect its contents. You were so curious what he picked. You pulled out a white bag of loose leaf tea with a rose stamped on it in pink. The name read The Start of Something Sweet, it was made with strawberries and rose. You couldn’t help but smile a bit to yourself.

Later that night you made yourself a cup using what you remembered of Levi’s impromptu tea lessons. You couldn’t keep the little smile off your face. Not even as you talked with Mikasa about your movie plans. You picked a date two Saturdays away. You were really excited, you could only hope that the movie did any sort of justice.

A few days later, you made another trip to Levi’s store. It was restock day. As usual, you beelined for the new arrivals section. You were disheartened to find your requested book had still not made an appearance. You groaned. Maybe they couldn’t find a distributor either. That’d be just your luck.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Mikasa asked, stopping beside you. “You look disappointed.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’ve been on the hunt for this one book and no one has it. I’ve checked everywhere! I even put it on your recommendations list when you first opened. It’s just getting annoying at this point.”

“Maybe I can track it down for you and get you a rush order?”

You smiled at her gratefully. “You’d do that for me?”

Mikasa shrugged. “It’s no problem. I don’t see why not. What’s Levi going to do? Fire me?”

“Sweet, thank you so much! I’ll text you what I’m looking for.”

“Hey, I’m actually about to go on break. Do you want to go get something to eat with me? You have off today, right?”

You agreed and hovered by the counter while Mikasa grabbed her things from the back. You chatted idly with a few of the other employees. They were complaining about how busy it’s been since school was back in session. You hadn’t been surprised, of course. They did build the town around the university after all.

Once the scent of lavender began wafting in, everyone became tense. You noticed something was off. It was sharper and so sweet it was almost bitter and very dense and heavy. Levi stalked in, looking irritated. He gave a sharp glare to his employees, but didn’t say anything. Instead marching through the door that said employees only on it.

“Something must’ve happened,” said one of the employees you were talking to. “He was in a good mood this morning.”

You wanted to go after him. In fact, your feet even began to pull in his direction on their own. But you stopped yourself, embarrassed. Tea aside - you didn’t know him all that well, after all. The last thing he’d probably wanted was a random omega tailing after him.

You had a thought, a reflection of something he told you - a book and a good cup of tea always made his mood better. He told you in passing, he probably didn’t even remember saying it. You knew you’d seen your favorite book somewhere in the store. With any luck, it was one he hadn’t read. You swept through the shelves, quickly finding it, then went to find a matching tea. You’d already had one in mind. Mikasa emerged just as the cashier was packing it all up for you. You had them wrap it in brown paper.

“Did you find something after all?” she asked.

You felt warm. Did it get hot all the sudden? You looked guiltily at the items in your hands.

“Actually,” you started awkwardly. “These are for Levi.”

“Levi?”

“Yeah, he seemed pretty mad when he came through a few minutes ago. Could you - I don’t know - could you give these to him for me?”

“I think it would be better if you gave them to him yourself, he’s still here.”

Mikasa didn’t give you much of a choice as she steered you towards the door he’d gone through. She forcefully shoved you down a small hallway and into Levi’s office. He was furious when he heard the door open. The sharp scent was even thicker in here, nearly suffocating. But you couldn’t help your overwhelming urge to calm him.

“[Name],” Levi grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes were shut tight. “I know you can fucking read, the sign says employees only.”

“They have something for you, don’t be an asshole,” snapped Mikasa.

You thought you heard Levi mutter brat under his breath. He looked up at you, eyeing the items in your hands curiously. You smiled a bit. Avoiding his gaze, you admired how neat his desk was. You were sure, if you had a ruler, that everything would be evenly spaced apart.

“You seemed upset when you came in,” you said, swallowing thickly. “I remembered what you said and thought maybe a book and some tea would help? This one’s my favorite and I picked something that I thought went with it. - I promise I paid for it.”

You placed the items on his desk and slowly backed away. You tried to slip away now that your peace offering had been given. Mikasa, however, wouldn’t let you leave. Levi picked up the book, turning it over his hands. He studied the cover and read the synopsis. Finally, after a long minute, he hummed and turned back to you.

“I haven’t read this one,” Levi said. You stifled a sigh of relief. “You make interesting choices in tea, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said quickly and Mikasa finally let you out the door.

Mikasa didn’t bring up the incident over lunch. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why did you do that? It was incredibly impulsive, but also inappropriate. That was basically the equivalent of screaming out how much he made your heart race and your palms sweat.

You tried not to dwell on it. But over the course of the week, you found yourself reflecting. You had hoped, more than you realized, that he would like what you brought him. You wanted his approval, not just his thanks. But you hadn’t been able to find the time to stop by the store and see if he’d read it. You’d been too busy with work, along with some plans with friends.

The next time you saw Levi was at your work again. He came bearing another bag. You were worried your coworkers would start getting the wrong idea. An alpha giving an omega gifts - how must that have looked to them? Then again, it was awfully presumptuous to think that the bag was for you.

But you were certain that Levi would never court you. Did you want him to, even? You hadn’t put much thought into the idea. But you didn’t hate the thought of getting to know him better. All you knew was what little he’d revealed in your chats while you picked out books and tea. Along with a little of what Mikasa had told you.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” you joked as Levi stepped up to the counter.

There was a certain air about him today. Maybe it was the way he’d slicked his hair back neatly. Or how starched the collar on his shirt was where it came out of his camel colored vest. He even seemed a touch more rested than usual.

Levi placed a bag on the counter. “This is for you.”

You couldn’t stop the sound of delight that came out of your mouth as you took the book out of the bag. It was finally, finally in your hands. After countless hours of fruitless searching, the damn book was finally in your hand.

“Holy shit,” you cried. “You found it! How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house this time.” Levi reached in and pulled a small brown pouch out of the bag. He smirked, which sent a chill down your spine. “Cinnamon, something spicy to go with that dirty fucking shit you’re reading.”

You froze mid celebration, oh shit. It was indeed a book with a good chunk of smut in it. Your friend had let you borrow her copy, that’s the only reason you knew about the book in the first place.

“You read it?” your voice came out hoarse.

Levi clicked his tongue. “The important parts, to figure out which blend would go along with it. It’s no wonder you couldn’t find it, no self respecting bookshop carries porn.”

“It’s not porn!”

You were not expecting him to read it. But of course he would only read the spicy scenes. No context to the story or anything else. You were devastated.

“Mhm.” It did not sound like he believed you. With that, Levi turned and began to walk away. He called over his shoulder to have a good day, followed by the pet name they used in the book.

You felt warm all over, tingles chasing from head to toe. You stared after him until he was gone. Then you sat flustered in your seat with your cheek against the cool desk. You could feel a scream burning in the back of your throat. You were so glad there was a half wall so no one could see you.

When you finally got up the nerve to crack open the book you found an envelope. Your name was written in beautiful cursive on the back. Cautiously, you cut it open. Inside was money and a little note in the same scrawl.

I won’t hold this against you. I know your entire taste in literature isn’t trash. Here’s money back for the stuff you gave me. I can see why it’s your favorite.

L. Ackerman

PS. Don’t even fucking think about trying to give the money back.

It was a short note, but it was enough to bring that flutter back. You couldn’t help reading it over and over again.

Before you knew it, movie day was finally upon you. You dressed casually and were so excited that you got to the theater an hour before it started. There was no Mikasa in sight, so you sat on a bench and read. You didn’t start to worry until there was only fifteen minutes before the movie began and she was still nowhere to be seen. Not even a text.

You: Hey, just checking if you’re close by.

Mikasa: Sorry, I’m not going to be able to make it. Enjoy the movie, you’ll have to tell me what I missed.

You groaned. You did not want to see this movie on your own. Though, you supposed it wasn’t so bad. Lots of people went by themselves. You’d just been looking forward to some bonding time with your new friend.

“So this is what that little brat was up to,” said a voice behind you. You turned to find no other than Levi. His scent was just beginning to wrap you up in a field of flowers. He had two travel cups with him, and looked as attractive as ever. No white collared shirt today. That was replaced by casual clothes and tight fitting jeans.

“Mikasa?” you asked, forcing yourself to look away.

He rolled his eyes. “I should’ve known, she didn’t even read the damn thing.”

You stood in silence for a moment. You had to wonder if this was as weird for him as it was for you. You had to admit, you did not see this coming. You could only wonder if he was disappointed to see you there.

You cleared your throat. “Look, you don’t have to watch it with me. We can sit in separate rows -“

“Don’t be stupid. Here.” Levi held out a cup to you. “You didn’t get to read the first book with anything. - Let’s go see if they fucked our shit up.”

Levi grabbed your wrist, tugging towards the direction of your theater. Your skin tingled where he touched you. You weren’t surprised by the amount of stares, but each set of eyes you passed was still unnerving. You were glad to be in your seats where it’d be harder for them.

“I heard they’re already filming the next one,” Levi stated after a few moments. He wasn’t looking at you. He concentrated almost too hard on the screen, you thought he was going to bore holes into it. “We should go see it together when it comes out. Maybe grab dinner beforehand.”

“Like…a date?” you asked. It slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“What the hell else?”

You paused for a moment, twisting to look at him. You couldn’t figure out if he was serious or not. His cheeks gained a flush of pink. You smiled at him, then settled back into your seat.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

Levi nodded, but didn’t say anything else as the lights went down. Somewhere through the night, in the tension of the dark theater, your hand ended up enveloped in his.

In the morning Stem and Spine was your first stop. You were there as soon as they opened. Mikasa was doing the opening drawer. You watched as Levi went up and slammed his hand down on the counter. She didn’t so much as flinch.

“Oi,” he said. Mikasa looked up at him. “What the hell was that stunt you pulled yesterday?”

You walked up behind him. “Yeah, you did miss one hell of a movie.”

“I don’t know why you’re both so annoyed, it seems my plan worked,” she said bored, not even bothering to look up from the cash she was counting.

“How did you know we wouldn’t just walk out of the theater and not watch the movie together?” you asked.

“You both like that series too much. Besides, Levi may know a lot about tea, but he’s also stupid. He never does anything for himself. So while he may not have realized what he was feeling, we all could see it. He just needed a little push. And so did you, [Name]. I knew you liked Levi.”

“I never actually told you that, though. I never told anyone.”

“You didn’t have to. You could smell it in the air when you were around each other. Like a call and response. You two were perfect and you couldn’t even see it. I knew from the first day you walked into the shop.”

Levi took your hand. “Don’t look so fucking smug.”

Mikasa laughed as Levi took you to his office. As soon as you stepped in Levi shut the door behind you. He gave you a swift kiss on the cheek as he went to his desk.

“She’s right you know,” he started, intentionally avoiding looking at you. “We are the perfect blend.”

You couldn’t help but wholeheartedly agree.

[featguler]

breaking the status quo ────── a private confession under bernabéu lights.

⌗ pairing : rodrygo goes x reader ⌗ tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. confessions!! fluff. not proofread!!! 5.28 am here and i do not care! ⌗ wordcount : 1,262 ⌗ notes : haven't written for rodrygo in so long... wrote the lyrics to the song on the banner & changing up the header format hehe... trying something new,,,, what do we think? title and the fic is mostly based on taylor swift's the very first night!! ♡ masterlist.

Rodrygo did not think that he was close enough to the stands when he scanned the crowd to find you cheering after his goal, mouthing an obvious but short “I love you” that was cut by Vinícius jumping on his back.

Rodrygo did not think that he was close enough, and you know this because you the Real Madrid jersey you have on your back does not have his name nor his number embroidered on it; you know this because you still take the train home rather than hopping on the passenger seat of his car; you know this because the farthest you have gone in your relationship is drink each other’s wine, scrunching up your noses in vile judgement.

Which is funny, because Camavinga, just before today’s match, joked to you about how bad the Spanish wine is compared to what he has back home, citing Rodrygo as another non-Spanish person who hates the syrup-like texture to the bottle of wine they serve in most fancy restaurants in Madrid.

You and him come in a pair, the whole team thinks. When Bellingham wanted to return a DVD of your favourite film that he borrowed—old fashioned, you know—he handed it over to Rodrygo, even when you are generally on good terms with everyone else in the team and wouldn’t mind him returning it himself.

It’s cute to you, to see the whole team supporting a relationship that is not there yet—like you are back in high school, testing the waters of a relationship by judging how the other’s friend group reacts to your mere presence.

And you are well aware that it is not wise to surmise Rodrygo’s intentions with just the way Brahim gives you a cheeky grin every time you make an appearance in their gatherings, scouring the crowd to point out where Rodrygo is, the same way it is definitely not wise to jump into the conclusion that Rodrygo loves you the way you love him with just an eye contact and a mouthed “I love you” to back up your hypothesis.

But you do anyway.

All chance of wisdom thrown out the window the moment you feel your heart breaking through your rib, the world suddenly turning silent when your brain finally registered what he might have said.

A confession, to you, under Bernabéu limelight, without anyone else in the world knowing.

The heat rushes through your chest, spreading butterflies on your neck and tummy and ears—amongst the commotion, you placed a hand on the top rail of your seat, and quietly sat.

“I’m so happy for you.”

The first thing you do when the game ends, and you see Rodrygo on the other side of the stadium’s tunnel, is untighten the jacket wrapped around your waist, suddenly feeling scrutinised under the gaze of every other person.

And you can see him there, a couple of feet away from you, trying to cage his excitement—a puppy with an invisible collar around his neck. He is lightly jogging your way, smiling and then frowning and then smiling again, like trying to decide what expression he should offer you.

“Thanks,” Rodrygo almost sounds sheepish, zipping up the grey—brown?—windbreaker up to his chin. You note how good he looks in it. “How did you like the goal?”

You can’t help your smile, carefully stitching the muscles on your cheeks. “Why are you saying it like that?”

He shrugs, bouncing back and forth on his heels. “Just, how did you like it?”

“It had a nice curve…” You trail, unsure how to respond to his question, chuckling when he finally decides to break the ice and opens his arm, inviting you to a warm hug.

“Come on,” He laughs against your hair, being the first one to let go after far too short of a time. “Nice curve, that’s it?”

“I mean,” you step back, putting one arm into your jacket sleeve. “Definitely got Real Madrid out of that pinch, did you?”

As people rush past your bodies, you feel the world slowing down again.

He leans a shoulder on the wall, the smile seemingly permanent on his lips. “They do call us ‘Second Half F.C.’, or something like that, huh?”

“It got my heart racing, that’s for sure,” you decide to zip up your jacket this time, feeling cold despite the flaring glow inside of you.

He pushes himself off the wall, giving you a grin. “Sorry for that.”

“What’s there to be sorry for? Real Madrid won, you scored, and you had a real nice curve to that goal.”

He thinks you’re a comedian—Rodrygo barks out a harsh laugh, nodding towards the exit door. “Come on,” he places both hands inside of the pockets of his windbreaker, “let’s see the other guys.”

And you watch him lead the way, humming to himself like a kid the night before a field trip.

You bite your lips, halting your steps after walking just a couple steps behind him.

“Also,” you call out, and he turns with a gentle gaze.

“Hm?”

You slip your hands in the pockets of your jacket, following his suit. 

“I love you too.”

This is where Rodrygo’s smile falters—you wonder if you had read his lips wrong, but before the insecurities could catch up to you, you shortened the gap you had between yourself and him.

“What?”

You ignore the nervousness, this time, cracking in his voice. You ignore how he carefully and slowly takes out his hands out his pockets; how one of them goes to cover his gaping mouth. You ignore the butterflies in your tummy. You ignore it all.

“And I think,” you take a deep breath, offering the coolest smile you can muster, trying to act like it does not alter your entire world, “it’s sweet that you decided to confess your love in front of the whole world.”

“You saw that?” His eyes crinkle, beaming a grin while looking worried at the same time. He glances at the ceiling, “you love me too?”

“Rodrygo,” you say his name, your voice almost crumbling in a whine, and he takes his mouth away from his mouth, letting it form a fist against it.

“This is the third goal I scored while telling you that I love you.”

This confession shocks you more than his declaration of love.

“Third?”

He steps in closer, his hand cupping one side of your face, peering deep into your eyes, trying to extract every possible secret you have hidden in your mind.

You may be an idiot for not noticing sooner.

“I know that you’d probably find out sooner or later, but—”

“Third, Rodrygo?” You ask again, placing a hand over the back of his on your face.

“I’m too much of a coward to say it straight to your face,” you understand his sheepishness now. “It was so scary to tell you that I love you….”

Your eyes widen to hear him say the words, actually meaning for you to hear it.

“….but it doesn’t feel as scary now.”

His thumb brushes over the skin under your eye—a couple of people may have stopped walking to examine the interesting posture you find yourself in, only then continuing on their merry way. But you couldn’t really care.

“God,” he chuckles, for a moment looking away, weak under the way your eyes are staring back. “I love you.”

You close your eyes, swallowing in all the anxiety on the tip of your tongue and the tension on your shoulder, before opening them back up.

“I love you too.”

[kitkatt0430]

So big shout out to SquidgeWorld for the news update acknowledging and encouraging the use of the tilde relationship identifier for queerplatonic ships!!!

I actually had a bit of a hand in how this one came about, which is pretty fun. (Story time!)

So a few years ago the Character A ~ Character B format was introduced over here on tumblr to represent QPRs. There is a post I know I rebloged a few times buried on my main somewhere about this and I'll have to try to remember to dig that up later. And there was bit of a push to try and get Ao3 to officially acknowledge the tilde or at least for those of us who write fic there start using it in tagging regardless of official acknowledgement and see what happened. And, well, what largely seems to have happened is that the tag wranglers have let us use the tilde, but there's been no official acknowledgement as the Tag Wrangling page for relationships on Ao3 still only discusses the '&' and '/' identifiers. (If there was anything official said about it elsewhere, sadly I must have missed it.)

I started using the tilde... two years ago? I think? And went back to update some of my existing fics to add in ship tags with the tilde. I still made sure to keep the Queerplatonic Relationship tags because those are still the best way to find fics that have QPRs included in them. And I've seen a few others using the '~' out in the wild, but discussion about it kind of faded again. If you knew, you knew. And if you didn't... there was always that Queerplatonic Relationship tag.

Then, about a year ago, I signed up for SquidgeWorld. I'd never heard of it before (which is likely because I'm just not super active in fandom outside the niche I've carved for myself; I admit, I am a bit under a rock at times...) but Squidge been around in one form or another since 1994. One of the fanfic authors I followed was moving their works there and so I followed and did what I always do on new sites I'm curious about - I lurked.

Fast forward to more recently. Fanfiction.net that I've been loyally using as my backup fic location for years after leaving it as my main fanfic archive... it's getting buggier and more unstable by the year. I don't intend to pull my fanfiction off it - I will leave what's on there up until the site collapses in on itself - but the day is coming ever nearer that the bugs and lack of tagging updates will finally make cross-posting there entirely too much of a hassle. And much as I love Ao3, I don't like the idea of only having all my fanfic in one place. I've seen enough archives big and small get destroyed over the years that no matter how stable or permanent Ao3 feels... I'm more comfortable knowing my fic can be found in multiple places. (Of course, the biggest hurdle for getting my fics cross-posted in multiple places is... executive dysfunction.)

I started finally cross-posting to SquidgeWorld recently and honestly just didn't really think too much about it when bringing over fics tagged with the QPR identifier. I just copied over the Character A ~ Character B tags and hit post. :D

But admin-squidgie over there - who I believe is found here on tumblr using @squidgiepdx (hi! Thanks a bunch for the news post!) - asked me about the tilde usage and what that was being used to represent. So I responded with an explanation about how it was a relatively new identifier used because queerplatonic relationships aren't really well represented by romantic or platonic identifiers. And then admin-squidgie got back to me to let me know there'd be a news post soon about this new identifier type. Which was so awesome.

While the wrangling guidelines haven't been updated on SquidgeWorld to note the use of the tilde yet (and could take a while, I know official docs always wind up being the last thing updated), the news post really is a very big deal for those of us who like to write and read queerplatonic ships.

For those of you interested in cross-posting or moving your fanfic to SquidgeWorld, I do recommend the archive. I've lurked long enough to see that the community there is pretty friendly, the interface is a clone of Ao3's so it should be familiar to a lot of you and is easily customized to make it more accessible (or covered in rainbows if you prefer ^_^ ), and (as seen here) the admin over there is open to helping make the archive an inclusive place for all of us.

And with at least one fanfic archive both acknowledging and encouraging the use of the queerplatonic relationship identifier, it'd be nice to see information on that making the rounds here on tumblr again. I bet there are a lot of aspecs who don't know about the identifier but who would be glad to know it exists and start using it themselves.

[katethetank]

The Dudgeon - Chapter 1

Welcome to my first multi-chapter Steddie fic! Please go easy on me, I'm new to this and still trying to figure out formatting and stuff. I'm also on ao3 as SteveLovesEddie so check me out there too I guess??

Rating: 18+ minors gtfo Plot: Eddie Munson has been living the rock star life for years. Constantly moving around, he hasn't had the luxury of a real connection with someone in a long time. All of that changes when he steps into a D&D themed coffee shop and falls for the gorgeous man behind the counter. Steve Harrington has been looking for love in all the wrong places. Ever the hopeless romantic, he wants nothing more than the perfect movie meet cute where he finds his person. Fate comes knocking when a handsome stranger walks into the kid's shop. CW: Not all necessarily for this chapter, but the story will include mentions of drug addition/overdose, shitty parents, coming out, eventual smut Tags: Alternate Universe - modern setting, Rock Star Eddie, Counselor Steve, Eddie is gay, Steve is bi, Steve has no idea who Eddie is, slow burn, idiots in love Word Count: 2,341

>>Chapter 2

Sound check is done, he’s got his signature mane tied up in a messy bun, sunglasses on his face, and a basic shitty gray sweatsuit hiding his lithe frame and elaborate tattoos. Eddie Munson steps out of the venue, takes in a deep breath of the crisp, spring air, and feels he can breathe just a little easier knowing that (most likely) nobody could possibly recognize him in this schlubby getup. He’s normally seen draped in black and silver; leather, mesh, chains, rings, thickass eyeliner. even lace when he’s feeling especially sultry. But strolling down the streets of Indianapolis looking like any regular asshole, he feels more free and like himself than he does when he’s commanding a stage in front of thousands. 

He pulls out his phone, opens Google Maps, and searches for coffee shops within walking distance. Unsurprisingly, Starbucks locations pop up all over the screen like it has fucking chicken pox. He’d rather chug a cup of ground glass than shell out a dime to those corporate overlords, so he zooms in and drags the map around until he can find something that’s not a carbon copy franchise. Bingo: The Dungeon. It must be new. Despite Uncle Wayne living here, he doesn’t get back to Indy as often as he likes with the touring schedule being as demanding as it’s been over the last year, and he’s pretty sure he would remember seeing a D&D themed cafe. He might be a bona fide rock star now, but he’ll forever be a nerd at heart.

He scrolls down to check out the photos, and the vibes here are fucking immaculate: whoever they got to paint the interior is the Picasso of dweebs. The walls look like actual stone, complete with lichen, vines, cracks, and shadows. The windows are framed in rich, deep red, velvet drapes. There are honest to god torches mounted on the walls. The tables all look like they came right out of a tavern in Middle Earth. He doesn’t even care if the coffee is any good, he has to check this place out immediately.

He starts the route (nice, only an 8 minute walk) and lights up a smoke to keep his hands busy. He knows he needs to quit, but after years of living the true rock star life - booze, powder, pills - this is the least of his worries. He had some close calls, thank christ Chrissy was there to literally slap some sense into him, and now he’s just surviving on caffeine and nicotine. Making his best friend the band manager was the smartest decision he ever made. Not only is it fun as shit to have her by his side, but she absolutely saved his life and turned his stupid ass around. Goddamn he owes her everything. He should probably grab her a coffee too while he’s out. It’s not exactly a symbol of his undying gratitude but it’s a start, right?

Before he knows it, he’s strolling up to the front of an older looking building; gorgeous thick ivy practically engulfing the dark brick, solid wood door with an antique wrought iron handle, and above it a neon sign proudly advertising The Dungeon in the actual original font of the first D&D manual. He can already smell the freshly ground beans and his mouth is salivating. This place is just screaming to him, “Get in here dork! You’re home!” 

He steps through the door and feels like he entered a portal into a campaign he DM’d in high school. The pictures online didn’t do it justice. He makes his way to the counter and takes his place in the short line. He’s perusing the hand painted menu up on the wall, snickering to himself over the custom drink names - The Eye of Sauron, The Rosie Cotton, The Paladin, The Mage - and he stops short at the last drink listed: The Corroded Coffin. There’s no way. There’s no way he happened to find a coffee shop that not only is a D&D game come to life, and has incorporated Lord of the Rings into the menu, but his own band has a place of honor on their drink list? What are the fucking odds.

He glances at the guys behind the counter. A lanky kid with an unfortunate bowl cut that he somehow makes work, and tall kid with a surprisingly dope flat top are manning the machines and cranking out drinks. A short, curly haired kid with a lisp is taking the orders. And to the side, a shaggy haired kid who kind of reminds him of himself in high school is barking through the open doorway to the back room.

“Seriously, get your ass out here, we gotta go!” Shaggy has a serious attitude on him and Eddie can’t help but laugh to himself. All this fury in a guy who can’t be more than 120 lbs soaking wet. 

“Goddamnit give me a second, I’ll be right there!” A disembodied voice replies from somewhere in the shadows.

“Oh my god, calm down, we’ve got time,” Bowl Cut reassures as he hands a drink over to someone waiting off the side who thanks him and makes his way out. 

Flat Top seems to be on Shaggy’s side as he shouts to the back, “We still have to go home and change before we pick up the girls, and we want to grab Taco Truck before the show! Come on!”

The show? Oh shit. Of course. Of course the kids working the nerdiest coffee shop in the world with his band’s name on the menu would be going to his show tonight. Eddie ducks his head down hoping to not stick out too much while he waits for the line to move. 

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be right there,” The Voice replies.

Curly takes the next couple orders while Bowl Cut and Flat Top make the drinks and Shaggy paces with irritation spilling out of his pores. Eddie keeps his head down while he waits his turn.

Just as the person in front of him is served, Curly turns his back and shouts, “Get your ass out here now!” Jesus, the tone on this kid. The boys all start to make their way out from behind the counter, which, rude. Eddie is still standing there and itching for his caffeine fix. The Voice comes out from the back room and is surrounded by the kids as they take turns bossing him around. Most of them are tall enough that Eddie can’t even see the poor victim of their verbal assault.

“Make sure you take the trash out before you lock up,” Flat Top reminds him.

“And can you prep the grounds for tomorrow morning?” Bowl Cut actually asks kindly.

“Don’t forget to actually lock up, asshole! Last time the back door was open!” Curly really has an attitude on him.

“And for the love of god can you please not play your pop shit while we’re gone?” Shaggy pleads.

“Hey, fuck you guys, I got it! Get out of here, your dorkfest awaits!” The Voice begrudgingly reassures them. 

Eddie snorts. He’s never heard one of his shows referred to as a “dorkfest” before. He turns his head away in a lame attempt to stay hidden in plain sight as the group turns and walks past him towards the front door.

The Voice calls after them, “Have fun kids! And don’t do drugs!” 

“Ok MOM!” they all shout back as they make their exit. Eddie has to stifle a giggle at the exchange. You can’t get this kind of banter at a Starbucks.

The Voice finally turns their attention towards Eddie. “Hey, sorry about that. What can I getcha?”

Eddie looks up and he swears his heart falls out of his fucking ass. This man is beautiful. He has no business being in a nerdy coffee shop run by bossy little assholes. His chestnut hair is all swoopy and tousled like he’s been running his hands through it all day. Eddie wants to grip it in both his hands and pull. His hazel eyes are downright sparkling from the light coming in through the windows. He’s got an entire universe of constellations speckled across his golden skin. And his smile. Oh my god, his smile. It’s kind and warm and more genuine than all the placating smiles he sees on a regular basis. 

“Uh…you ok man? Need any help with the menu?”

Oh, shit. Eddie’s just been standing there gawking like an idiot, hasn’t he? 

Talking. He needs to start talking. He’s good at talking.

“Shit. Sorry. Uh, no no, I was just wondering… how’s the Corroded Coffin?” The menu says it’s iced coffee with 4 shots of espresso. It might be exactly what Eddie needs to jolt his brain back online.

“Ha! Well, are you asking about the drink or the band? Because the drink is great. The band? Eh… not my cup of tea. Or. Coffee I guess.” And this adonis of a man snorts at his own lame joke. Eddie is fucked.

And wait. Did this guy actually just insult his band? To his face? He’s kind of impressed with the audacity. Eddie reaches up and snaps his shades off of his face. “Is that so?” he purrs.

Hot Guy seems to blush just the tiniest bit. “Yeah. But don’t tell those dickheads I said that! They’re obsessed! They even bailed on their own shop and left me here to flounder so they could go to their concert tonight.”

Ok, so Hot Guy doesn’t seem to recognize him at all. That’s fun. “And you didn’t want to go?”

He shakes his head, his floppy hair swishing around adorably. “Nah, not my scene. They’re good musicians I guess, but I don’t know, it all just kinda sounds like noise to me.”

Eddie can’t believe this. He’s been so used to people blowing smoke up his ass and feeding his ego, he forgot what it was like to get a genuine honest opinion from someone. It’s humbling to say the least. And weirdly kind of a turn on. And for real, the guy isn’t even registering who Eddie is. It feels so…liberating. No expectations, no pretext, no assumptions of how he should act or what he should say. This could be dangerous.

Eddie leans into the counter, popping his hip out and bats his eyelashes. He knows what his bigass Bambi eyes can do to people. “Well, what about the vocals, sweetheart? The music itself might not be your thing, but does the singing do anything for you?”

God he’s really laying it on thick, isn’t he?

Hot Guy rolls his eyes. Actually rolls his fucking eyes! “Eh, not really. It’s juat kinda like, screaming isn’t it? I don’t think you really need much talent to scream. I could scream.”

Yeah I bet I can make you fuckin scream, gorgeous.

Woah. Down boy. 

Eddie bursts out laughing. This guy is just straight up badmouthing him now without even realizing it, and Eddie must be more of a masochist than he ever thought possible because weirdly, this is doing it for him. 

Hot Guy laughs along with him, shaking his head. “Sorry! Sorry, I got off track. Did you want to try that drink, or is there something else I can get you?”

Your hand in marriage would be great, thanks.

“Yeah, fuck it, lemme get the Corroded Coffin. To go please.”

Hot Guy nods and smiles, but something dimmed a bit in his expression. He turns around and starts getting the drink ready, and Eddie’s eyes dart down to his ass. It’s hard to fucking miss. Round, and perky, and fuck his hair, Eddie wants to grab a couple handfuls of that. “So. Where are you off to this fine afternoon? Not gonna lie, I was hoping someone would stick around a bit. Thursday’s are usually pretty slow, and I’m stuck here running the ship until we close at midnight. Not that I’d expect anyone to hang out here all night! Just, ya know. Distractions help the time pass a little quicker. Sorry! I’m rambling!” He turns around with a drink in hand looking a little embarrassed, a little flushed while he rings up the coffee. He’s adorable.

Did he want Eddie to hang out here with him? Fuck. If he wasn’t expected to be swaggering across a stage soon, he’d drop everything and spend all night drinking this beautiful motherfucker in.

“Oh uh… yeah I have to be at work in a little while, unfortunately. But maybe I can swing by again later when my shift is done.” Eddie gifts him a little wink as he swipes his card and adds a 200% tip. 

A shy smile creeps across Hot Guy’s face. God, Eddie wants to eat him alive. “Yeah that uh, that would be cool. Maybe I’ll see you later…..” his eyebrows rise up his forehead.

“Eddie! I’m…I’m Eddie.”

He extends his hand across the counter and Hot Guy meets it in the middle. The paws on this man! Big hands, long fingers, and god how are they so soft? Eddie is so distracted he almost misses Hot Guy introducing himself.

“Nice to meet you Eddie. I’m Steve.” 

Their hands linger a little longer than what would be considered socially acceptable for just two dude-bros saying hey. The little smiles and blushes they exchange don’t hide anything either.

Regrettably they both let go and Eddie takes a step back from the counter. He makes his way to the door and turns around catching Steve’s eye once more before he makes his exit. “I’ll see you around Stevie.” Steve smiles and it’s like the sun breaking through storm clouds. 

Eddie makes his way back down the sidewalk, feeling like he’s walking on air. As he sips his coffee - which is fucking delicious, by the way, and will definitely get his brain firing back up again - he realizes that he never even bothered to order anything for Chrissy.

>>Chapter 2

[sitp-recs]

15 21 fics where Draco takes care of Harry

Happy Weekend folks! The last reclist for this self-indulgent HBD Harry celebration week brings the trope we all love and deserve: Harry being taken care of! Let 👏🏻 that 👏🏻 boy 👏🏻 be happy! I’m really soft for this trope because it delivers delicious character development and emotional payoff. Harry deserves all the nice things and I love seeing Draco willing to provide it, whether in the form of physical comfort, protection, shelter, medical care or just good old diq. I wanted to follow the previous lists format but ended up with 20 fics which means I left a bunch out (my first draft had around 30 🤡). As usual I tried to include both classics and hidden gems, and especially some that aren’t in the other lists. Enjoy!

Ceremonials by @jackvbriefs (NR, 4k)

“What are you doing here?” Harry said. This Malfoy blinked up at him, then lifted the bottle of tequila. “I’m teaching you how to make a drink.”

Is This Love? By @phdmama (E, 4k)

Draco wouldn’t call himself a tender man. He fights the forces of evil for a living, trying his best to pay penance for the evil he’s done. He’s fought and killed in the name of duty, and when he’s not on duty, he tends either to play hard or retreat alone. He doesn’t lean on anyone, and he knows he’s not the first person anyone goes to when they need care. Comfort. That all changes tonight.

It Never Occurred to Me That I Would Fall in Love With a Frenchman by lamerezouille (T, 6k)

Harry kisses Draco in a public place. All hell breaks loose.

Unseen by astolat (M, 11k)

When he wasn’t wearing it, he got jumpy, always waiting for someone to come at him wanting something—and now they did it even more urgently, if they ever saw him, because most of the time, nobody did.

Nice Things by aideomai (M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Lusimeles by spqr (E, 23k)

“You’re not special, Potter,” Kingsley informs him, not looking up from his work. “But I’ve already done Occlumency training!” Harry splutters, indignant. “And it’s Malfoy.”

just tell me when it’s alright by M0stlyVoid (E, 23k)

Harry’s been fighting tooth and nail for any bit of normalcy he can get his hands on. He’s sick of feeling like something’s wrong with him, tired of feeling different. He thinks he’s finally gotten to the root of it, and has settled into a routine that makes him happy. Naturally, that’s when Draco Malfoy walks back into his life and upends it once again. Has Harry bitten off more than he can chew with his former rival?

The Green Vial by @eidheann (E, 31k)

After months of seeing Harry Potter walk into his Apothecary disappointed and hopeless, Draco offers to carry the baby that Harry can't. Now he's just got to hide the fact that he's been half in love with Harry for years.

Expecto Patronum by @writcraft (E, 35k)

Harry Potter is the most sought after celebrity in wizarding Britain. His every movement is scrutinised, his relationships questioned and his photographs plastered over every paper. Harry's used to everyone thinking he’s a hero and has had plenty of time to learn how to keep his biggest secrets hidden from the press. As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

(Un)wanted by @aibidil (E, 36k)

Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.

Breathe In (and Feel No Hurt) by Constance1 (T, 38k)

A tale of love, loss, and of finding hope again. Or the story of how Draco turned into a house-cat in order to secretly bother a depressed Harry Potter until he was no longer feeling sorry for himself.

Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (E, 50k)

When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected. Harry is struggling with something, pushing it far down inside him where he doesn't have to acknowledge its existence. Draco starts to worry, and then he starts to care, and then... horribly... he starts to fall in love.

Sweeten to Taste by @saintgarbanzo and @babooshkart (E, 51k)

It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more.

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k)

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature…

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

A Thousand Beautiful Things by geoviki (M, 100k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (T, 300k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness.

[jinisnuggets]

✧ ˚ · . ɢɨʀʟ ʏօʊ'ʀɛ ֆօ ʄɨʀɛ

PAIRINGS | Model! Mafia! Member Junkyu x Model! Fem! Reader

GENRE | Suspense, Mafia Au, MILDLY Suggestive (mdni)

WORD COUNT | 1.3k

SYNOPSIS | Kim Junkyu lives a life of luxury, being a famous model with millions of fans, but maybe that is only the side the screens show…

WARNINGS | Small hints of murder, strong(ish) mafia themes, Junkyu is a little bit of a brat, manipulation topics, swear words, overall it's kinda wholesome.

NETWORK(S) | @starlit-network @k-library @blossomnet

A/N | HI! This fic is mainly in Junkyu's point of view because I wanted to try a new format of writing, overall, I hope you enjoy reading and I am very sorry and not uploading ;)... I've been a little inactive lately, but I'm going to try to comeback. Yes, I will be continuing my series (atz yh) but keep in mind that I only posted the first chapter to see how it went, not to continue it for the moment, so yes I'll continue writing it and will post the remaining chapters when they're ready :)!

“If you expect that raise, then you best bring me the best information you can find,” he demanded.

Junkyu sighed, placing his hands behind his back as a form of respect.

“I'm already one of the biggest celebrities in Seoul; I'm sure however much money it'll be I wouldn't need it.…” he muttered, watching his boss turn around as he lowered himself.

Sometimes he couldn't hold back his form of speech.

“It'll be lots of money, so I recommend reconsidering those words.” He scolded, figuring Junkyu wouldn't pay much more of his attention as he simply nodded and made his way back towards the door, bowing on his way out.

He exited through the back, entering the vehicle through the Limo’s door as his bodyguard drove away.

Though he was still processing his bosses words, he couldn't help but recall them so vividly every time they recurred in his mind.

The more he thought the more he noticed that everything he did for the organization was practically useless, but what more could he expect from being a member of a mafia.

He'd done countless of unexplainable things, but it was all for a good cause, and that was something others couldn't understand.

Maybe if he had just quit the moment he began his career as a model, it would all be normal. But then again, maybe it was simply the fear of stalkers finding out that secret that had been long buried, exposing him to the public for millions of people to misunderstand; or possibly it was the thought of them blackmailing him with it.

He preferred not to think about it.

The car’s door opened as he was greeted by screaming crowds and millions of paparazzis speaking over each other and invading personal space as they pushed their mics up to his face.

Politely, he declined the interview attempts and chuckled while making his way inside the modeling agency.

“Look who's here.” A female voice teased from ahead as he waved goodbye to the fans positioned outside.

He smirked in a teasing manner, deciding to add more fuel to the fire by approaching her with that same mocking demeanor.

“I wasn't expecting to see you here my lady.” He finally spoke, beginning to walk in the direction of his stylists room.

“There was a change of plans.” She shrugged.

He nodded in understanding; a sense of satisfaction washing over him as she wasn't known for frequent schedules. Encountering her brought him some sense of genuine joy.

“L/n Y/n!” A voice echoed from the distance causing her to glance back towards the source of her name. There stood her manager, a considerable distance away with a puzzled expression.

Finally, he began walking up to her, politely greeting the familiar face which had been all over recent magazines and TV commercials.

“What are you doing? Your turn is coming up." he asked, prompting her to nod in acknowledgment as she looked back at her friend.

“I need to head out, my shoot is up soon.” She chuckled, and he nodded, observing her walk away peacefully with her manager into her stylists room.

He turned around, not needing to turn his head to become aware of the coming presence.

“Junkyu.” A voice lingered in the air. Junkyu turned his head and there stood the person he had mostly anticipated.

Park Jihoon, a model from a big agency with a huge fanbase. Not only that but he also seemed to release banger music.

Jihoon also happened to be one of the main sources to the mafia's disposal. There was nothing he wasn't good at.

“Did they give you your next investigation to carry out?” He questioned, a look of prolepsis crossing his eyes as the words exited his mouth, almost as if he knew what was coming.

“L/n Y/n is a girl who keeps many dark secrets, one being her history with her parents. I need you to collect as much as you can about her and her family history due to this being a case of importance.”

“L/n Y/n and her family history.” He muttered to which Jihoon sighed.

“I asked them to give it to someone else, guess they never listened to me.” He chuckled awkwardly, causing Junkyu to glance back at him in confusion.

“Pardon me?” He asked.

Jihoon looked back, thinking for a moment until he glanced around, making direct eye contact with a security camera as he watched it shut off.

“They mentioned they'd give you her case, but I urged them not to as she's someone you're close with. I guess that's what they're looking for however.”

They walked into the stadium, forgetting about their shoots and simply deciding to just watch the other models and their shoots.

Watanabe Haruto was up: someone Junkyu always admired for his insane visuals and incredible acting abilities. He'd been trying different poses over a white background wall. Many other famous models and celebrities sat around them as they watched their colleagues in awe.

Jihoon and Junkyu picked their own table, a safe distance away from any other guest.

“It's alright, afterall, I'm sure she'll be relieved once her family’s out of the picture.” He sighed, looking up at an already shut off camera.

He looked back at the famous young star, smiling as his expressions changed depending on the mood his supervisors were aiming for.

You were up next, and he was left impatiently waiting for your familiar face to come up, smirking the moment it finally did.

“Seeing her here is only making things easier for me in a matter of fact.”

***

‘L/n Y/n is dating Kim Junkyu?’

‘Are L/n Y/n and Kim Junkyu a couple?’

‘Alleged leaked photos caught L/n Y/n and Kim Junkyu kissing.’

It was all over social media and he knew it. It was also likely the cause for why he was called up to his bosses office so suddenly one morning.

After multiple deep breaths, he finally opened the door to see his boss holding multiple files worth of informational papers, slamming them flat onto his arms the moment he approached his desk.

“What the hell are you thinking Kim Junkyu!?” He scolded.

Junkyu rolled his eyes very lightly, looking back at his boss with eyes of acknowledgement.

“I can't control what fans think-”

“But you can control what you do!” He once again yelled, making Junkyu flinch ever so slightly. He knew he was right.

Multiple moments of silence passed with no one saying a word.

“Alright. I'll shut down the rumors later today. We have another shooting event in the evening, where I believe L/n will be attending.”

His boss stared in intimidation, ultimately nodding to his apology and accepting it, shooing him away shortly after.

Junkyu didn't have an exact plan on how to do so, but he knew that it was all simply a lie. The main regulation of this organization was the strictly prohibited lovers rule.

But he was their most crucial piece.

And you, were his lady ever darling.

“Junkyu!” You called from afar, once more approaching him as he stared at you, smiling while doing so.

“I'm glad you made it.” He teased as you shook your head in playful annoyance, rolling your eyes in the process.

“I don't miss every event.” You defended, making him nod.

“I'm aware, my lady.”

You didn't realize when he dragged you into that secluded room, gripping your arms with an undeniable strength as he pinned you up against the wall.

Staring in utter confusion, you watched him move closer to you, constantly bringing your faces closer and closer together.

He smirked seeing your flustered expression.

“What do you say we put an end to these rumors my lady?” He asked.

You gulped, face burning as your cheeks turned a light red color.

“I.. I agree, it'll get in the way of our careers.” You assured, attempting to get out of the entire situation.

“Then shall we do so? What do you say we put an end to them by making them a reality?”

[idontknowreallywhy]

Composition Ch 3 - Response

TL:DR version - new historic earth&sky angst! There is pain… but also there is singing!

I’m going to do a little leap back in time to the immediate sequel of Presence / prequel to Resurface because what happens here is important to the next chapter of Resurface where it finally comes full circle.

You know that gif with the guy and the conspiracy theory incident room board with all the lines and the exhausted crazy expression? Yeah that’s me trying to maintain any coherent sense of chronology.

Aaaanyhoo… the first two bits of this little fic (Da Capo and Call) are helpfully spread over 3 posts here and are where we see Virgil coming to terms with having only a fraction of Scott back from Bereznik. Oh and it might help if you’ve read this short snippet too (not vital, but it all connects)

If you want to catch up / know why Virg is in hospital / why he’s so confused / why Jeff is gonna string up some hospital admins… Presence (unlike its big brother, Resurface) is pretty short (5,000 words) and you’ll get to meet the Other Scotty, of whom I am very fond even if actual Scott wants to drop kick him into the sea.

(AO3 versions if you prefer that marginally less unhinged format: Bearded Ch 3 / Presence / Composition / Resurface)

Right where was I? Oh yeah, poking the boys with the pointy angst stick… (it gets better in the next part I promise)

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Scott did not like the hospital.

If that was what this was.

Sometimes he thought maybe he was still a prisoner. Maybe they’d just switched up the torture methods, started talking English to confuse him. Tricked him into thinking someone had finally come.

Ever since he’d woken, terrified and gagging on the tube down his throat, he’d been in pain and the pain kept changing so he couldn’t get used to it. He was cold. Constantly cold but they kept sponging him with even colder water and nobody would explain why. His bones hurt. His eyes hurt. His everything just… hurt.

And he couldn’t sleep. All he wanted to do was sleep but as soon as he drifted he was back and it was worse. So he fought it. Even when his limbs and eyelids were weighed down by something they’d given him, he clung to consciousness as long as he could. And waited. Waited for the next thing. He needed to be ready.

The dogs still lurked, sometimes at the foot of his bed, sometimes prowling the hall but never far. He could hear them even when he couldn’t see them.

Claws skittering on stone.

There were two things he held on to: Virgil’s eyes and Virgil’s voice. Those two things hadn’t been in that other place. And they were here. So here was not there. He wasn’t there.

He wasn’t there.

That had to be good.

But why was here no better?

Had they caught Virgil too?

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Sometimes Dad was here. That seemed like it should be a good thing.

But perhaps it was another lie. After all, he’d thought Dad was There sometimes too.

When he fought them, when they brought more needles and he tried make them stop because he didn’t know if this time he would be able to resist giving them what they wanted. He didn’t want to be what they wanted. His father’s voice was soft “You’re alright son, you’re safe. They know best, just do what they tell you.”

No! He mustn’t! He strained against the cold sloshing through his veins as if he could push it back out the way it entered. Muttered curses, English voices again but unfamiliar. Then Dad’s in the distance:

“He’s ok, he’s ok. He’s just confused. Just give them room. He’ll be ok, son. He’ll be ok.”

“They’re scaring him! Stop it! No! SCOTT!!!”

Virgil!

Scott struggled against the weight pulling his facial muscles down, pushed his trembling lower lip against his teeth and forced the air through.

“ffffffffff ffffff. FFFFFF”

But his vocal chords didn’t get the memo and he couldn’t make the right sound, couldn’t make his name:

“Fff-ffff-Ffffff-urrrrrr?”

He couldn’t answer the call. He threw his body upwards… his arms too heavy to reach out to him and tried again in a desperate croak:

“Fffffffff-urrrrrrRRR!!!”

A crashing noise, cross voices but the sounds were muffled by the snow and the creeping dark. Angry barking somewhere behind him made Scott cringe and try to curl in on himself.

Then warm… warmth over his chest. And Virgil’s voice and HER song, he felt her song… the happy little song that made the darkness shiver and the dogs whine and back away.

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[bonnymori]

(1/2) From pasta guy, to boyfriend

A/N: i'm almost at episode 1030, finally the others are showing up more like Kid, Killer and Law; can't find any new Killer fics so decided my next work should be one

WC: 2,3k

Contents/Warnings: n/a, very light fic, modern!au ig, fluff, slice of life, gn!reader, trying out new format

Synopsis: Your cravings have led you to a small local restaurant, and surprisingly, bring you to a new romantic interest.

Noodles, spaghetti, pasta.

Sometimes they are all over your tiktok's for you page, or your youtube's feed shorts. That's how you end up awake at noon, looking closely at your phone as someone makes pasta from scratch in video. One can't help it, the process is so interesting although you've watched the same thing countless times: throw in a few eggs, flour, milk and salt in a bowl, mixing that soon gives you a puffy dough, from there the process gets overcomplicated– you just know the ingredients are the same every time.

You blame them for making you so hungry, and robbing you of your sleep.

That's also how you end up in front of a small luncherie, after spending too much time craving those delicious dishes, that you actually gave in and decided to go for it.

The front of the building looks so welcoming, a mix of pastel green and beige makes for a nice touch of painting, accompanied by the large window panes that give a view of the inside. Under your feet at the entrance is a doormat that says "benvenuto!" and upon your head, at the front of the shop is written "àite milis" as in the name of the place. Honestly you have no idea of both of their meanings, but you keep the words to yourself to translate them later.

Your entry isn't as peaceful as when you arrived, though, when the door is pushed outwards in the same time as you try to push it in to enter- whoever is inside was stronger, though, as you barely dodge it when it comes swinging your way with force, as if you hadn't even tried to push it.

"Agh!" You can't help but quip as you step back, avoiding being squashed between the door and the wall.

A surprised grunt comes from the doorframe, where a tall guy with a mask stands frozen, probably shocked with what just almost happened. You can't quite see his eyes from under those blond bangs, but he is surely looking at you wide eyed from the rise of his shoulders.

"Oh my, I'm very very sorry, I didn't see you behind the door."

The guy approaches, inspecting your face for any bruises – mainly because you are still spooked and planted to your feet. His warm hand lands on your shoulder, and you can't help but notice his whole arm looks crazy toned, and your face is lined perfectly with his chest since he's crazy tall too.

You don't let those thoughts cloud for long, taking a step back to look at him properly. "Sorry! Didn't see you coming out too, I got distracted by the place, haha."

"I- …" His head tilts slightly at your saying, and you notice how long his blond hair really is, as it weaves behind him when he turns, a few strands falling upon his shoulders by the movement. "Is that so? Why do you say that?"

"Well the colors are nice! What can I say, it's my first time here." You keep yourself from explaining your reasons during every exchange between strangers, but that only gives him more fuel to continue talking.

He nods, something in his posture changes from lax to a more attentive way– actually, he sorta looks… joyful. "I see, come inside then." His hand leaves your shoulder and waves you in, walking back inside with a skip on his step, so he is happy, why?

"It looks even better on the inside."

You can hear him call as you enter behind him, truthfully, you agree. The floor is boarded (but painted white) and the tables are also made with wood material, the brown matches well with the colors on the wall, white and blue that comes in stripes. The counter is the same color as the tables, it counts with a few comfortable looking stools. How cute, the tablecloths are black with white polka dots! Everything looks delicate and under measure, you can tell the owner has put his passion on every detail.

"So, liked it?"

The silence is broken by the mysterious blonde, you maintain a normal face but inside it gave you a big sudden scare.

"Yes! I think the place looks very delicate." You say what you really thought, to you it would be the best way of describing.

He nods more than once and rubs his hands together like a fly, it's hard to guess but from the movement under his mask, he might have smiled at your compliment, who can guess it.

Why are we talking about this anyway?

"Well…" he starts, as if able to listen to your thoughts, turning his body entirely in your direction and gathering himself in a very professional stance, "You are actually my first customer, so I'd like to accompany the experience with you, if you'd let me."

First customer.

"You're the boss!?" Your jaw drops, only slightly so as to not make yourself a complete fool in front of this handsome guy.

He nods, "It's been two days since I first opened the shop, without getting any new people in, so I'm extremely glad you have chosen this establishment. I'm sorry for the, cough, harsh welcoming." His body does all the talking as he speaks, making gestures and looking at the door, apologizing for the scare. He expresses himself very well for someone who's got almost his whole face covered.

…You can't help but giggle at his big introduction, although serious, he's just a silly guy.

"It's alright, can I get your name since you want to accompany me?" You said, following by the introduction of your name to him.

The man nods. "You can call me Killer."

Killer, huh, what?

You nod, not discarding the chance that it might be just his nickname, and make your way to a table near the window. You don't miss how Killer himself hands you the menu – at your curious stare, he answers that he doesn't have staff yet, it's him and him only, for now.

The menu… is a total road map. There's at least ten different types of noodles including lasagna pasta, each has different kinds of prepping and sauces to include. It's like ordering pizza but in italian… wait, pizza is also italian, right? Historically, nobody knows for certain, but… Anyway, you ultimately decide to order a plate from the popular section – not that the other options aren't good! But for today, keep it simple – that are basically those viral dishes that everybody knows from social media, as in a part of the menu that offers simpler options to choose from.

Today's dish will be… fettuccine alfredo! It should be good for starters.

Killer seems to jolt when you finally look his way again, like he wasn't staring at you all along. "I take you have decided what you are having?"

"Yes! Can I have a fettuccine alfredo, please?" You smile at him, such a polite guy.

He nods at the request, doing a small shoulder gesture you've seen him do before, signaling he's 'happy and ready'. Killer leaves to the back, soon you can hear the sounds of pans and pots being retrieved, as well as the smell of mouth watering food begins to waft through the place.

It's so good to smell, and not just watch it through a screen! You think to yourself, looking around and noting the small details all over his luncherie, finding especially interesting the small metal trinket on the counter, is it handmade?

Time goes like seconds, it's actually a really small pause before Killer comes out of the kitchen with a blue plate in hands, his long legs moving swiftly until he's beside your table and placing the dish in front of you. He lingers a little about even after delivering the order, fixing the folds on the tablecloth and thanking you again for coming to his restaurant.

He's really cute, you think, watching him head back to the counter, the way Killer fiddles about with his hands shows that he's maybe a little anxious, I would be nervous too with my first client.

You look down and damn, the dish looks amazing. The fettuccine normally has a whiter aspect thanks to the sauce, that becomes even more vibrant and appetizing in contrast to the blue colored plate. I hope I don't sound like a food critic, you think to yourself while swirling the first string of thick pasta on your fork, watching as it swirls smoothly with help of the white creamy sauce, it's making your mouth water.

Without thinking, you stuffed it in your mouth with no regrets, immediately melting at the way it explodes in your mouth. Yumm… I will definitely bring leftovers home.

It looks like I won't get any new customers besides Y/N, Killer muses to himself as he leans on the window. Sigh, he's a bit disappointed, but it's the reality of many newly established businesses. It doesn't stop the deep bubbling feeling that comes from his chest, knowing he should be starting on the dishes if he wants to close as soon as possible, since his mood has dampened again.

Right, I can't yet, I have someone over today, as if in cue with his thoughts, his head turns from the window to the person in the middle of his shop, who is humming delightfully as they eat the portion of fettuccine.

It puts him in sort of a daze, his cheeks spotting the faintest of blush, the sight of someone feeling so content while eating the result of his studies and hardwork, that's all I wanted. Killer is glad for his blonde bangs that hide the fact he can't bring himself to divert his eyes away, so touched by his work being appreciated. If the guys saw me acting this way, I wouldn't hear the end of it. After what seems ages, he shakes his head at the thought, slumping even more against the wall as all the exhaustion of setting up a business settles down on his shoulders.

Letting his eyes astray to that one table yet again, he can't help but think they're cute, his hard shell has lessened thanks to the excitement of receiving the first person to give a chance to his work, sure, but Killer can't help but watch them in a different glow from the way he would see other people.

And they like my food, that's a good sign- oh, they're looking at me, he jolts when he's suddenly caught staring, his hands twitching by the sudden spook– and now, they're… beckoning me closer?

Killer can't help but straighten up, fixing himself before strolling with newfound confidence to their table and sitting down across from them.

"It was delicious!" You told him with a big smile, patting the pudge on your stomach formed by his delicious, warming meal. "A pretty big portion too, are you sure the price is up to it?"

"Yes." His deep baritone almost filled the room, almost sending a shudder down your back. "It shouldn't be any higher, that would just scare off more people that it has."

He wasn't negative about it, just realistic. And also a tad nervous, not wanting to say anything awkward.

"I think it was great, actually, I promised- like- to bring leftovers for dinner to my family, do you make meals for takeout?"

Killer is at service, sure, but you still felt a little bad for asking this late, since it's probably rounding closing hours.

"Of course, I'd be delighted to." He responded quicker than you thought, more than happy to attend more work, it really shows he loves cooking, "So, how many portions would you want for takeout?"

"Three! I was thinking of bringing different dishes, you know? Another fettuccine so they can try it too, but I wanted to bring this one too, and…!"

Unnoticed by the both of you, soon, a discussion of what would be the best to bring back to your family started with the chef man, he knew how to add in his view on the subject but without suggesting in a way he wanted you to buy more, but like hey that's really good, it could go even better with this topping. Or I like that one, I think it's a really good choice. Killer was glad the conversation flowed so easily, himself also not noticing the fact a whole hour passed and they hadn't stopped talking, he felt like he wanted to get to know you better more and more through each minute, finding himself in a daze again, his brain filled by the thoughts of you entirely.

What brought him back to reality, though, was glancing down from your eyes – it was really hard – only to see the empty plate and silverware still on the table.

"Oh damn, I didn't see the time fly." A quick glance at the clock on the wall told him it was very late. He sat up, exasperatedly.

Still enough to make your family dinner, with how determined he looked.

Killer didn't even protest when you followed him inside the kitchen, the conversation flowing once again casually, he smiled at the way you found another of Kidd's trinkets, like the one – he persisted to gift Killer as decoration – at the counter.

He'd be sure to make them extra good just for you.

"Thank you so much for everything, Killer." You felt bad for keeping him so long, watching as the key chime when locking the door, disappearing along with his big hand inside his pants pocket.

"No such, I am, in fact, delighted for you."

For a moment, his sapphire blue irises stared into yours, drowning in the pools of color- both of you.

His hand on your shoulder was warm.

Fuschia lipstick marked your hand when his lips parted from your skin, smiling at you.

"I'd like to see you again."

At the end of the night, Killer's frustration had vanished - now that he's got your number.