#week 3 b-side: AU
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ckhalloween · 4 months ago
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DESPITE THE GROWING HORROR YOU SIMPLY CANNOT STOP LISTENING --
YOU INSERT THE THIRD TAPE WITH SHAKING HANDS, UNABLE TO STOP YOURSELF... AS IF AN INVISIBLE FORCE IS PLAYING YOU AS WELL AS THE TAPES THEMSELVES
TAPE THREE BEGINS...
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WEEK THREE OF CK HALLOWEEN 4: FLIP THE SCRIPT (14 Oct - 20th Oct):
A-side starts with a hissssss:
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EVENT HORIZON: The horrors of space and never-ending houses, losing your mind, doppelgangers, eldritch beings and mysteries you don't want the answer to… 🚀🏠🏚🙃🐙🤯
and then, distorted, like it's coming from another dimension... B-Side:
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AU: What nightmares or nonsense can you dream up for our karate heroes?
ANY kind of artistic response is welcome, but remember to tag your post as #ckhalloween or submit it to us, so that we can see it!
If you're writing fanfic, we have both a standard AO3 collection and an Anonymous AO3 collection if you'd rather keep your creepy, terror-inducing words separate from your handle
Banner by @desolateice
Prompt art by @midnightship
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 years ago
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Horse Yaoi trotted so Horsegirl Yuri could fly.
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f1amour · 4 months ago
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✧˚ · . make me juno
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pairing | max verstappen x popstar!reader
word count | 2.3k
content warnings | some social media au, established relationship, smitten max, light dom!max, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fingering, brief choking kink, praise kink, squirting, HEAVY BREEDING KINK, cock warming, teasing, unprotected sex — 18+ only, minors do not interact
authors note | happy belated birthday to max #1 certified cat lover <3
navigation. | requests — open | main masterlist.
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yourusername juno out now available to download and stream! happy birthday baby 💋🤍
tagged — maxverstappen
comments below…
user1 MAX MUSIC VIDEO DEBUT
user2 begged for a cameo from max and we got a whole ass film 🧎‍♀️
yourusername my man is too hot for only a small cameo. made sure to showcase his actor side>>>
landonorris i did NOT have to watch an 8 minute film of you and max being horny. disgusting.
yourusername the first minute of the video was horny you could have exited but you watched the whole thing. our biggest fan 🥹🫶🏼
landonorris fuck off
maxverstappen1 wanna say that again?
landonorris 🏃‍♂️💨
user3 max trying to be serious through the video but breaks into a smile anytime y/n would sing to him 😭
user4 they just broke the internet with this video
user5 never thought i would see max and y/n horny on main in 2024
user6 did you guys not listen to her latest album? girl gave us a whole ass ovulation album. GIVE HER A BABY MAX!
maxverstappen1 i’m trying
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being with max for five years now you’d grown used to knowing his likes and dislikes; both in & out of bed.
especially in bed.
“have you always been this keen on having kids? even before me?” you manage to spit out while sitting on max’s lap, his lips prepping kisses all over your neck and chest.
you had just spent the day celebrating his birthday on a yacht with all of yours and max’s close friends and family so he had been extra needy arriving home since he couldn’t have his way with you all day with everyone surrounding both of you.
his lips detach from your neck looking you in the eyes full of love, “i’ll remind you any chance i get when it comes to that, you are the reason i want a family. the reason i see myself being your husband and father of our children before you i never saw that with anyone else.” max would take any chance to remind you how ready he was to be your husband and have kids with you.
“i don’t want to wait anymore. not for the wedding or the babies…i want it now.” you whisper desperately clinging onto max. his eyes widen at your statement, “now?”
“we’ll have the wedding after the baby is born. we can go to to the courthouse this week and make it official just us two. don’t you want that, maxie?” sitting on his lap grinding against his hardened cock make it even more difficult for him to say the words.
“yes…fuck yes of course, baby. i don’t want to wait any longer to have you as my wife. gonna fuck you so full of my cum tonight and make you a mommy. god i can’t wait any longer.” his hands cupping your face and pulling you into a hungry and messy kiss. both of you quickly removing your clothes off each other desperately needing to feel as close as possible.
you start getting on your knees but max pulls you back up, “as much as i want you on your knees stuffed with my cock in your mouth, i need to taste you.” his words immediately taking affect on your core.
“b-but it’s your birthday…w-w-wanna gi—.” your words stutter out, after placing you on the bed hovering over you his lips meet your neck down to your stomach before he situates himself between your thighs.
“getting to taste you is the best gift i could ever get.” your legs squeeze his head, thighs keeping him close to your pussy as he licks, laps, and sucks until you're close to the edge.
"’m so close, max, so close," you feel like you're in a trance as his fingers hook inside of you brushing your g-spot. he presses his palm into your lower tummy, applying gentle pressure as you nearly thrash under him from how intense the buildup is.
"cum for me, baby. make a mess all over my face," he growls before you feel yourself snapping as your orgasm flows through you. max rides you through the orgasm, tongue lapping at your core as your legs are left shaking.
“max…” you gasp out of breath as cleans you with his tongue, your fingers slowly caressing his hair. he
"you are so perfect, baby." he cooes, thumb resting on your lip as you part your mouth and bite down on it. you feel him stiffen under you, "ik hou van je. (i fucking love you)" he groans under his breath as you wrap your lips around his thumb.
"my fingers look so good shoved in your mouth," he purrs, hearing you whimper as he massages your pelvis. you can feel yourself growing wetter, the heaviness in your mouth feels comfortable before his lips are on yours.
"shit," he hisses, "i’m done waiting…i’ll take my time with you later.”
he doesn't give you a chance to speak before he's fisting his cock, lining up with your entrance, and pushing in "fuck, fuck," his voice is low and raspy, the feeling of him sinking into you, whispering out a various dutch words as he sinks deeper and deeper into you.
"this," he thrusts, slamming the headboard against the wall,"is what l've been fuckin' cravin. can’t wait to see you round and full." his thrusts are deep and slow before he can't hold back and he's fucking you into the mattress, loud moans and skin slapping are the only sounds filling the room.
your walls flutter around his cock and you're coming for the second time that night, "gonna have you cum a few more times, baby. keeping us up all night and make sure i get you pregnant." he snaps, bed in shambles as it creaks and squeaks before his own thrusts are growing sloppy.
"gonna fill you up," he moans, "fuck, you're gonna be so fuckin' stuffed. looking so perfect carrying our babies." his breathing is laboured, chasing his release before it hits him and he’s spilling inside you.
you stay close together for a brief moment before you both are desperate for another round, trying to rock your hips because he's still hard inside of you, "max…," you plead. "need more. please, please, please.”
he chuckles deeply at your desperation, "yeah?" he switches your positions, flipping over, lying on his back as you're straddling him and you fall into his chest because he’s impossibly deep, you were sure you’d come right there once again just from that position
you rock your hips, steadying yourself over his chest as he groans, "that's my good girl, you feel so fucking good like this. my soon to be wife. mother of our babies. i love you.” he’s lost himself in you, unable to form a coherent sentence as you lose yourself in the feeling of riding him like never before.
his sweet words and whines coming from his mouth have you quicken your movements, "you feel so good, max," you mumble, "all yours, baby. i’m all yours," he groans, digging his fingers into your skin as he meets your thrusts.
“how you doing, baby? you okay?” despite being deep inside you he slows down checking on you. he was starting to feel the exhaustion catch up to him but he was still hard as a fucking rock with your cunt clenching around him.
you nod giving him a smile, “m’ okay…getting sleepy,” you mumble out before pulling him closer to you (if that was even possible), “fill me up one more time, maxie. then we take a nap…and go again.”
despite being completely exhausted from the hours of fucking you wanted max to ensure you were pregnant by the end of the break. you were ready to become his wife and now have his babies as soon as possible.
his thrusts are deep and slow while you two conversed until your last sentence he can't hold back and he is fucking you senselessly now giving deep and rough thrusts, your moans filling the room chanting his name.
"come on, baby. cum 'round my cock, yeah…fuck," he hisses when you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him inside of you as he comes inside you once again.
catching your breaths you lay on top of him now, his cock buried inside you, “can’t believe we’ve been awake all night.” you chuckle against his chest while his hand plays with your hair.
“i have a month of uninterrupted free time with you and i’m gonna take advantage of that.” max kisses your head and you close your eyes getting comfortable in his arms.
“remember when we first met?” you ask him, knowing he’d go on a yap session about it. he would talk about it to anyone who asked and you loved him so much for knowing the small things just from the first moment you met.
“do i remember? how could i forget when you assumed i was a mechanic instead of the driver? oh and your perfect smile—.”
2018
meeting at the united states gp in austin the year of 2018 you were just 19 years old on your first world tour of your singing career. you had a concert on the first day of the race weekend so you met a few of the drivers and you tried your best to remember their names but there was so many.
max had been watching your performance with a huge smile on his face, he was in a meeting causing him to miss the introductions most of the drivers had with you. but here he was waiting for you at the side of the stage to introduce himself. he had grown to be a fan the last few months and when he found out you’d be performing at the austin gp he was counting down the days.
“hi i’m max…i’m with redbull—.”
you had gotten off stage ecstatic with the crowd cheering you on to be meet with a slightly taller guy dressed in some jeans and a white jacket paired with a redbull hat. the redbull hat made you assume he was a mechanic for the team so you cut him off, “oh nice to meet you! i’m y/n, how is it like working on the cars for redbull? you’re a mechanic right?”
max was confused at the question many things did not make sense when you asked but he assumed you didn’t know much of the sport (which was very true). he decided to go alone with it appreciating the chance to speak with you just for a few minutes before you were pulled away again for some interviews.
few weeks later he got your number from lewis who had been a mentor in your life for awhile now being in the limelight at a young age he took you under his wing. after checking with you first he gave max your number sending you a text and getting his full name you search him up on instagram realizing he wasn’t a mechanic but a goddamn driver for redbull racing.
lewis couldn’t help but laugh at your cluelessness when it came to the sport only sending him messages if he won not caring for any other drivers; until now.
after many apologies through the phone and max waving it off as something to laugh about. you grew a close friendship with him for the next year waiting patiently for him to ask you out.
PRESENT
“i had to wait a year before i got the balls to ask you out and then—oh.” he chuckles stopping mid sentence looking down at you realizing you had fallen asleep. he gives your head a kiss and falls into some much needed sleep alongside you.
you had woken up a few minutes ago with your back against max’s chest settling between his thighs. he had been playing with you hair until his hands started wandering down your body, “max…” you sigh contently feeling his finger play with your clit.
when two fingers slip through your folds, an obscene moan runs through you before they're filling you up. "that's my good girl, look at how well you're taking my fingers," he cooes, fingers curled deep inside you.
"that feels good, doesn't it, baby?" he taunts, you nodded your head, eager to feel his fingers moving some more as you rocked your hips in sync.
the pressure building up made you squirm, max was edging you and now you were nearly in tears, “oh…oh god,” whispering as you beg him to let you cum.
"that's it, my pretty girl," he hummed, “love hearing your moans, love feeling you cum, baby. squeezing my fingers with your tight pussy. gonna have your pussy squeezing my cock after this.”
"fuck," max groans, your orgasm gushes out of you; soaking his hand and bed sheets. you pant trying to catch your breath, "think we need to get ready for the day...we can't stay in bed forever. i wanna take you to a cat cafe--."
"just one more for me, schatje, one more and then we go to all the cat cafes we want," he smiles sweetly, kissing your neck finding your sweet spot and getting a moan out of you. how could you deny him?
pulling you in for a passionate kiss he flips you around and looks you in the eyes filled with lust, "wanna try another position?" he mumbles against your lips and you nod, not having to tell him the one you wanna try because he knows it's your favorite.
with your face pressed into the bedsheets and ass up in the air he gives you a soft slap before sliding his cock deep inside your aching cunt, "fucking christ...shit," he groans with each deep thrust your walls squeeze him.
"not gonna last, max..." you whine, your hands grip the sheets as he gives you a rough slap on your ass, "me neither, baby. you gonna cum with me? come on, schat. gonna fill your tight pussy with my cum and make you mine forever." his thrusts growing faster and sloppier, but his words have you pushing back against him meeting his hips.
"yes, yes, yes...wanna have your baby please fill me up, maxie," he pushes you up against his chest his hand wrapping around your throat squeezing it lightly. it was more than enough for you to ride out yet another orgasm, "that's it, baby. make a mess all over my cock." he groans feeling your walls flutter around him, with a few more thrusts his cum fills you up.
your heavy pants fill the room, feeling him pull out of you after a few minutes making sure each drop of his cum filled you up he flips you over laying you down and grabbing a warm towel to clean you up, "doing okay, my darling?" he smiles down at your loopy grin.
"so good. i love you." you tell him once he finishes cleaning you up and settling in bed for a few minutes before you go and shower. "i love you more. best birthday ever." max tells you, and he meant it being the best birthday especially if you do end up pregnant.
you run your fingers along his jaw, "think you made me juno yet?" you smile sheepishly at him and you both break out into a fit of laughter, "well if that didn't, we'll just have to keep on going until you are."
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awrkive · 3 days ago
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[TEASER] CATCH YOUR WAVE (m) — JJK.
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the last thing you expected when you strolled into your new school is to become the favorite project of the 5’11” tatted-up overly enthusiastic, golden-retriever-in-human-form PE teacher, jeon jungkook. he’s all goofy grins, bad math puns, and relentless charm, while you’re busy pretending you’re immune to his antics... spoiler alert: you’re not. and that infuriates you. 
alternatively, jungkook tries to prove that opposites don’t just attract — they collide. a classic case of one plus one equals: “oh, no. i like him.”
PAIRING jeon jungkook x (female) reader
GENRE r18+ (fuff, slight angst, mature content) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
WORD COUNT ~15k (still working around the final wc)
TEASER WORD COUNT 1.8k words
WARNINGS/MISC teachers!au, pe teacher!jk, math teacher!reader, seven!jungkook, himbo!jk, coworkers!au (works in the same school), oc gets kinda mean sometimes but jungkook likes it lmfao, extremely corny pick up lines.. he tries 💔 2000s romcoms references (sorry) warnings for this teaser: nothing major. just bad math puns delivered by himbo jungkook :')
NOTES inspired by the whole “can she gaf me💔” vibes in the seven mv (by jungkook) and ultimately the click five’s song, catch your wave (hence the title🥸 pls listen to the song for the whole vibes hehe <3). ive been wanting to write himbo jk for awhile bcs all my jks are like … smart so far so i thought wait we need to change that. gahhhh im so so freaking excited ive been thinking about writing this ever ever since i wrote that one himbo jk drabble 💃🏼
[ CYW MOODBOARD ] • [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]
RELEASE DATE 2025, FEBRUARY 15TH | 01:00 AM KOREAN STANDARD TIME (GMT+9)
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They say life is a balance of good and bad days, and you’re not a pessimistic person, but sometimes enough is enough. How is your week already this bad when it’s just barely started? 
Sunday morning, when you picked up your laundry from the shop, you were too late to realize that you mixed not just one but two white underwear with the colored loads. You’d blame it on the fact that they were too tiny, too flimsy for you to notice. But you know you should’ve double-checked before putting them in the machine. And now you have lost two panties. And in this economy? That shit cost a ton. 
When Monday came and the head of the Math Department informed you there was a sudden shift in your schedule for the semester, it meant that instead of teaching three Algebra classes for tenth graders, you’re also teaching pre-Algebra for eighth graders, meaning you’re gonna have to cross the long walk from the high school building to the middle school one, the latter being all the way to the left wing, completely the opposite side of the right wing where the faculty room and your initial classes are. 
Today, you’ve woken up with your WiFi not connected to the internet (something you have to talk to your landlord about when you come back home) and just two minutes ago, you realized you forgot to take your coffee order with you from the cafe across your school building, the sad garlic bread you bought along with it staring right at you without its beloved beverage pair. 
Truthfully, it might be your last straw. How the hell is this happening to you out of all people? The semester is just starting, for god’s sake, and you’re already hanging on by a thread. 
You take a deep breath on your seat before standing up from your cubicle, heading to the coffee machine by the snack bar.
You hate the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep on stocking the pantry with, it’s too naturally sweet – and you don’t like your coffee with sugar. 
But you have no choice but to make do. The cafe’s too far out and your first class starts in about twenty minutes. 
“Good morning, Ms. Math Genius – ready to crunch some numbers today?” 
As if this day couldn’t get any worse, you shut your eyes close for a moment when you hear the familiar voice. 
You stir your coffee with downturned lips.
“Only if you promise to flex those brain muscles—” You say, turning to look to the side. Much to your expectation, it’s Jeon Jungkook, leaning casually against the wall with that usual faux suave he keeps on around you – which you can’t take seriously because his big doe eyes tell you a completely different story. He’s wearing some Nike dri fit shirt, one that’s too tight around his chest and accentuates a comparatively tiny waist that you have to force your eyes upwards. But as they do, they land on the biceps that are straining against the poor material. It wasn’t lost on you though that one second after, they’re suddenly flexing. You arch your brow as you glance a look on his face. “—as much as you flex those biceps.” 
Jungkook’s lips curl into a huge grin, expecting the jab. 
“You know it!” He chuckles, running his fingers through his bangs. “I’m all about solving problems, and I’d say my favorite equation is you plus me equals a perfect start to the day.” 
You fight a loud groan from escaping your lips as soon as he says that, giving him a certain look before shaking your head and going back to your coffee. 
But you should’ve known better by now, because Jungkook – aside from being a PE teacher extraordinaire and every student’s favorite at that, Thee Football Coach, 5’11” tatted brunette with a long, fluffy hair paired with an objectively, annoyingly attractive face – is persistent. 
Most especially when it comes to annoying you. 
A few steps, and then you feel him getting closer to you. 
“Did you know that—” 
You roll your eyes. That’s it. If it’s another one of his corny math pick-up lines again you swear to god— 
“Jungkook, you don’t have to keep doing this everyda—” 
“—we’re like parallel lines?” 
“What.”
“Did you know that we’re like parallel lines?” Jungkook repeats earnestly, just like he always does. When he’s up in your personal space like this, it’s easy to get a waft of his cologne – and your annoyance could’ve been justified if he smelled like shit but somehow, even though he looks like he just got back from a run judging by his running shoes and gym bag, he still smells… okay. 
Just okay. As in, you don’t care how good he smells like or how he smells at all.
You make sure to keep that thought at the back of your head. 
“No.” You say, hoping to dismiss the conversation right there as you pick up the cup of coffee from the machine, ready to turn on your heel, but then Jungkook laughs ever so slightly and gives your arm a barely-there poke.
“Come on, entertain me a little.” 
You squint your eyes at him. He challenges your stare with a growing smile on his face. Scoffing, you roll your eyes again before you put the paper cup back on the table. With a sigh, you cross your arms and look at Jungkook. For a split second, his eyes cast downwards to your chest level but he quickly snaps out of it. 
“Okay… we’re like parallel lines… why? Because we’ll never meet?” You say in response to his little request, keeping your tone impassive. 
Jungkook’s eyes slowly widen at your words, smile slowly dropping – as if the logic of your words have ruined one of his million pick-up lines again. 
“I– no! What? I meant, we’re like, always running to each other! Side by side. Parallel lines.”
“Okay… so still never meeting?” You ask impatiently, brows furrowing. 
Jungkook mirrors your confusion. Then, he raises a hand, one finger up. “One second. I’ll fix this–” he takes his phone out from his pocket, types on it quickly, lip jutting out as he reads whatever he’s looking up, and then, “Ohh, I might have meant asymptote lines. We’re like asymptote lines.” 
Your face contorts into even deeper confusion. Holy shit, you’re not dealing with this very early on in the morning, especially not after the circumstances of the past hours.
“Asymptote lines are more depressing than parallel lines if we’re talking metaphorically.” 
Jungkook squints his eyes at you, suspicious. “Are you sure?”
“I would hope I know my lines, Jungkook. I teach them everyday.” 
He laughs again, eyes crinkling at the corners cutely, and you hate how that tugs something at your heartstrings. 
You catch yourself right at that moment.
Jeon Jungkook is not cute. You keep in mind. He’s not cute. 
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Jungkook thinks you’re so cute. Gorgeous, most of all, and unbelievably so. You and your signature furrowed brows and pink pouty lips.
As usual, you have your hair up in a clean bun today, and Jungkook can smell the lace of sweet vanilla from you as he takes a step closer to get a cup for himself. 
He loves the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep stocking the pantry with, it’s sweet as fuck. Just like how Jungkook likes his caffeine dose. Kind of like you, he thinks. 
Jungkook casts a quick glance at you again, can't really help himself when you're so pretty, although he makes sure to be subtle about it.
You’re wearing another one of your pencil skirts, one that he has to avoid staring at for longer than three seconds lest his mind takes him too far – but the upper view is even more of a torture, unfortunaly for him. Because as much as you wear the same outfit every single day and it should mean that Jungkook should get used to it by now, he can never be immune to your silk long sleeves, where you keep the top three buttons open – and as much as Jungkook tries to pry his gaze away from the exposed skin down from your neck, it’s like there’s a strange force in the universe that keeps him on it. Doesn’t really help that you like crossing your arms under your chest, too, making his mind run a mile per minute at the thoughts that form inside his head when a very apparent cleavage shows—
Alright. Damn. It’s like 8 am. 
And you were saying something about lines…
“Yeah? I hope you can teach me too, I need to—” 
“Goodbye, Mr. Jeon.” You cut him off before he can even finish his sentence, taking your coffee with you as you head to the direction of your cubicle. 
The nickname makes Jungkook’s lips curl up. He probably shouldn’t smile, given that you only ever call him that when you want to cut the conversation with him short. But he can’t help it, it sounds sweet coming from your pretty lips. 
In an attempt to not look like a fool, Jungkook bites his lip as he watches your disappearing figure, your heels clicking on the floor as you walk away. Your legs look so long in that grey pencil skirt, and it really should be criminal how you look like that even when you’re just showing your back. 
In his trance, he forgets about the brewing coffee in his cup and absentmindedly takes it out while the machine is still running, the hot liquid pouring from the nozzle quickly burning the skin on his finger. 
“Oh, shit!” He hisses, jumping from the shock, almost knocking his coffee out but thankfully he manages to catch it on time, just as when another member of the faculty walks by the snack bar. 
With an awkward smile, Jungkook raises a thumbs up to Mrs. Lee. 
“Good morning, Mrs. Lee. Looking rad as always.” He cheerfully greets, and Mrs. Lee’s confusion from seeing him fumble with his cup earlier quickly turns into a coo. 
“Oh, Mr. Jeon, you charming kid. I was just gonna get my cup of coffee.” She says, walking towards his direction. 
Jungkook adjusts the strap of his gym bag to his shoulder and takes a cup for Mrs. Lee with a grin, making her smile. 
She thanks him and with a playful salute, Jungkook goes toward the general direction of his cubicle, and because the PE department and Math department are just across from each other, he walks past you, typing something on your iPad before you look around and catch his gaze.
Jungkook automatically waves, smiling brightly, but you only frown, shutting your iPad close and ignoring him.
Amused, Jungkook tries to fight off a huge grin, taking a few long strides to get to his own cubicle. 
His day is already off to a good start.
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© 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐕𝐄 2025. all rights reserved. copying, editing, reposting and/or translating any of my works are not allowed.
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bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago
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Hi, could I get a swiss roll with a figgy duff and a side of champagne served by Max Verstappen?
Thank you in advance 🫶
bakery menu!!
want to submit an order? then hit up the menu! i'd love to hear from you and everything you wish to suggest! requests are still open, but updates won't be posted from sept 23rd-29th 2024 due to a vacation! but feel free to submit orders for when i return! for this lovely anon i hope you love this fic, i am very proud of how everything turned out! thank you again for ordering and have a great day! <3
swiss roll ("everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you.") + figgy duff ("if i buy it, will you stop pouting?") + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, stuffed animal abuse, couch sex, jealousy, doggy style, daddy kink
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max knew that he could have next to anything he wanted. his entire world was his oyster before thirty. his salary would make some gasp, but it simply made him grin. he pushed himself to his limits to get on top, and he wasn't stopping now.
but even the greats had their weaknesses. and for max that came in the form of soft eyes and softer lips with a deep likeness for hello kitty.
"is this one hello kitty? it looks like a rabbit?" max asked as he looked over at your phone screen to see what you were looking at. or rather in what ways were you going to use and abuse his credit card for the week.
in all fairness you could've abused his finances a lot harder and max would've been fine with it. he could retire from racing tomorrow and still spoil you till the sun burnt out. you still tried to find deals and coupons on things you wanted him to buy you. sometimes you still got hot in the face when you saw the total of a shopping cart.
you were raised in such a different world than him and max liked that. but, while he had a weak spot for your softness. you had a weak spot for stuffed animals. especially sanrio.
"no, no. they're not all hello kitty. this one is cinnamoroll, and he's a dog."
max looked at the screen a little closer, "looks like a rabbit to me."
you pointed at the screen, "no, no. look at his ears, those are dog ears." max nodded, still not totally convinced. who would draw a dog like that. but when you saw the price of the large stuffed animal, you pouted. and max noticed you were pouting.
he took the phone from you and when you tried to get your phone back. he placed his free hand on your forehead. he said, "if i buy it, will you stop pouting? i can afford it, treasure."
"but the import fees."
"they'll be paid." he added the stuffed animal to the cart. he didn't even look at the price in all fairness before he handed the phone back to you. you pouted further and max leaned in to kiss you on the lips, "enough of that. what else do you want?" then rubbed the top of your head with his large hand.
honestly, he knew very little about sanrio or hello kitty. he knew one time he kicked one of them off the bed in an attempt to get comfy after a long double header and you whined until he picked it up off the floor and apologized to the stuffed toy. but, anything for you, he supposed.
the plush toy along with some others arrived within a few weeks. max didn't really notice much of it until he caught you on the couch earlier that day with your arms wrapped around the stuffed toy. he hadn't realized how big it was, a little over a meter in size. it was soft with those long rabbit ears. but you were snuggled up with it watching television. you looked cute even with the t-shirt you wore slowly riding up over your stomach.
it made max stop in his tracked and divert from his path to the kitchen. you looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back. he said to you, "everything you hoped for?"
you nodded, "yeah, now i have something to cuddle when you're gone." your comment was innocent, but it stirred something in max. he got closer and you kept your gaze on him. you smiled a little bit when he leaned down to kiss you on the lips.
"oh? replacing me so soon?" he asked as he reached towards you and pushed your t-shirt a little higher. you hid your face a little further into the stuffed animals, "oh no, no, my love. don't hide from me." it was easy to get your shirt off of you.
he licked his lips while your breasts pressed against the stuffed animal. he knew he'd have you whining soon enough and it curled something in his gut at the sight of you. you were amazing. the perfect baby girl that max could ever have. while he was fine with you buying what you desired, he didn't want to be replaced with a stuffed toy.
because no stuffed toy could compare to your daddy.
"you better not replace me, my love. everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you. so there is no replacing me. i paid for these." he said as he pushed down your shorts and exposed the pretty panties underneath, "and i paid for your little friend." maybe max was a fool for being jealous over a stuffed animal, but your sudden attached to it made something curl in his brain.
you were soon naked and pressed against the stuffed animal. you looked over your shoulder at him and he pressed your face into the cinnamoroll plush, or whatever its name was. you whined, "daddy!"
"shh, shh. i need to make sure this rabbit knows who you belong to. or he's being sent back to wherever he came from."
you arched your back to pretty for him as you tried to argue, "it's a dog!"
he smacked your ass before he pulled away to get his t-shirt off. you behaved and kept your face pressed against the stuffed animal. he got out of his pants and underwear before he pressed his cock up against your ass. he said, "it could be a turtle for all i can. but, i need to make sure that you don't go running off with a stuffed toy while i'm away." he kissed the back of your neck as he rubbed himself up against you.
you whimpered and held onto the toy tighter, "daddy, please." then moaned when he sank his cock into you. it was true, he did pay for everything. you were there to look pretty and be the perfect girl for him.
"so pretty." he said, "i worry about you when i leave, you're so soft and could get into a lot of trouble." he groaned a little bit as he started to find his pace as he fucked you on the couch.
"i can be a good girl." you replied, you held onto the stuffed toy and drooled a little bit against it as max's cock hit up against some of your sweetest spots. your toes curled in your socks as he found his rhythm.
"i know. i know." he said, "but you should be cuddling me. not this toy. so i have to show it who's in charge." you couldn't help but giggle, but they were soon silenced when he pressed himself further against you and took you by the face and kissed you deeply on the lips.
his thrusts were fast, and it forced you further up against the couch. the kisses were hot and made you feel warm all over. your sweet noises even while you kissed made max run hot. he knew that only he could make you feel this good. he knew that he ruined you, and that you'd always yearn for his cock.
you drooled a little more when the kiss broke and your face found comfortable against the fur of the toy. you clung to it tightly for some kind of support but max had full control of the pace. you felt a little hazy in the brain as he continued to fuck you.
"i love you." you said softly.
"and i love you." he replied, "can't help but be a little jealous sometimes. anyone would be lucky to have you, but i have you all to myself. everything you own belongs to me, paid with my credit card. maybe i should make you wear my name at all times so nobody gets the wrong idea." his words were hot and flooded with brain with a heightened pleasure.
max continued to thrust against you. soon his pace became quicker and rougher. he pressed you further against the couch and the toy. he kissed you once more, it was rough against your lips as you came around his cock.
you clung to the stuffed animal as you tensed up. you panted through the kiss as you nails dug into the plush toy, only loosening your grip when you came down from your climax.
face pressed once more into the soft fur as max rocked himself against you, almost bouncing you on his cock. he pressed into you further before he finished inside of you. he shuddered as he finished. eventually he slowed down until a stop then pulled out. he panted heavily and used his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead.
he admired your backside before he put you onto your back. he looked at the stuffed animal, the embroidered eyes looked at him and he smiled. he said to the toy, "she's mine."
you placed your hands on his face and said, "c'mon, max! he isn't going to replace you!"
"he won't when i'm finished with you." <3
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mononijikayu · 4 months ago
Text
bed chem — nanami kento.
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“Are you free next week?” Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how effortlessly he turned the tables on you. It was exactly what you had been thinking, the question that had echoed in your head. He had beaten you to it, but his tone told you this was no ordinary invitation. There was more behind that simple question—an invitation to something deeper, something physical. You raised an eyebrow, smiling to yourself, already knowing your answer. “I think I could be.”
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au;
WARNING/S: romance, love at first sight, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, nanami kento is that MAN, reader really wants to have bed chem with nanami <3;
WORD COUNT: 4.8k words.
NOTE: i keep thinking about how much i wrote and how it could be a treat for the entire october in terms of kinktober but i think i realize i'll be too busy starting the 11th, so i won't be showing up to anything, so i'll just be doing all this stuff i can now and posting some in between so i can at least have something for yall, you know? also im realizing my actor sukuna series and this is a minor part of it. its such a good story!!! if you wanna read it the latest chapter is here chapter four; anyway, i hope you can feel my love through out. i'll be seeing you soon enough, though. wish me luck on my upcoming exams <3
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
kayu's playlist — side 1500;
YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO FORGET THIS NIGHT. And you were happy about that thought. You remember the day you met him vividly, as if it happened just yesterday. You were dressed in a sheer, ethereal gown, moving gracefully through the grand corridors of a buzzing fashion venue.
Models, designers, and staff rushed around in a whirlwind of fabric and creativity, preparing for the show. You were part of that beautiful chaos, your mind focused on the evening ahead. But then you saw him.
Nanami Kento, the famous actor.
He stood out, calm amidst the frenzy, wearing a sharp white jacket that contrasted with the hectic energy around you. His sandy-blonde hair fell neatly into place, and his tall, sturdy frame exuded a sense of quiet confidence.
You exchanged brief pleasantries—just a moment's conversation—but the connection felt palpable. His presence lingered in your thoughts long after. You can’t help it. He was just that enigmatic. He was just that awe-strikingly beautiful.
Later that evening, a friend of his reached out, suggesting the two of you connect. You think that maybe they think you guys are going to be good for each other. Or maybe you could just be friends.
Who knows? You hadn’t expected it, but before you knew it, there was a message on your phone from Nanami Kento himself. And just like that, you found yourself scrolling through his texts, your pulse quickening with every new notification.
Who's the cute guy with the white jacket and the thick accent? The thought danced in your mind, replaying your brief interaction. You wondered if you were imagining it, but something told you this connection was real.
He wasn’t just like any other guy you’ve dated. A lot about him was already an improvement, but you were sure, one hundred percent — he would be everything. Everything that you could ever want in a man. 
Maybe it was all in your head, just a fleeting crush, but you couldn't shake the feeling. You have never felt like this before.  You began to picture more than just idle conversation. You bet the two of you would have incredible chemistry—on all levels.
Your thoughts spiraled into fantasies, growing more vivid with every passing moment. You imagined him picking you up with ease, spinning you around like you were weightless, his strong hands firm but gentle. It just made sense, didn’t it? The way he looked at you, the way his words were always so calm and collected, but with an underlying intensity that pulled you in.
There was chemistry—bed chem, as you started to call it in your mind.
You saw it all clearly: the way he’d pull you close, lower you down, his voice teasing but sweet. And his hands—how they might trail over your skin with a deliberate touch, a mix of sweet and sinful. You were obsessed with the idea. He didn’t even need to say anything when you saw him, the look in his eyes was enough to spark that connection.
You imagined asking him, casually, Are you free next week? You were certain that if you met again, everything would fall into place. You’d fit together seamlessly, like two puzzle pieces made for each other. Your fantasies painted the perfect picture: soft sheets, the thermostat set just right—maybe at 69—and the two of you in sync, moving as if you’d done this a thousand times before.
You saw him later that night at the after-party, his blue eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. Your heart skipped a beat. Nanami wasn’t just an actor anymore, not just a face from the big screen or a billboard. He was real, standing right there, closing the distance between you.
As he approached, you couldn’t help but think, I bet we’d have really good bed chem.
The thought made you smile to yourself, a secret desire that hung in the air, just waiting to be fulfilled.
He moved closer, his stride confident but unhurried. The noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, the music and chatter dissolving as your attention zeroed in on him. You could feel the air between you thicken, an unspoken pull drawing you together. Nanami’s eyes never left yours, his intense gaze making it clear he hadn’t forgotten your brief encounter earlier in the day.
He stopped just a few steps away, close enough that you could see the faintest hints of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. You exchanged a polite smile, but beneath the surface, the tension was palpable. It was as if every look, every subtle movement, was laden with meaning. Your heart raced, but you kept your composure.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” he said, his voice smooth, with that same deep cadence you had replayed in your mind over and over again.
You offered a light laugh, something casual, but even the smallest exchange felt charged. “Fashion world is small, I guess.”
The conversation was polite, yet every word held weight. You both knew there was something more bubbling beneath the surface. And that’s when it happened—he leaned in, just a fraction, and his voice lowered, the faintest hint of something playful lacing his words.
“Are you free next week?”
Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how effortlessly he turned the tables on you. It was exactly what you had been thinking, the question that had echoed in your head. He had beaten you to it, but his tone told you this was no ordinary invitation. There was more behind that simple question—an invitation to something deeper, something physical.
You raised an eyebrow, smiling to yourself, already knowing your answer. “I think I could be.”
Nanami Kento chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming. It was a small moment, but it felt like a confirmation—like a prophecy about to be fulfilled. You both lingered in the silence for a beat longer than necessary, the electric tension between you undeniable.
As the night went on, the party flowed around you, but your attention never strayed far from him. Each glance, each word exchanged, only built on the anticipation. By the time you said your goodbyes, you were already planning out the next week in your head.
When you finally parted ways, your phone buzzed almost immediately. A message from him.
Next week, then.
You smiled, already thinking about how things would unfold. In your mind, you could see it—how he’d pick you up like it was nothing, his strength and control so effortless. You pictured the way he’d pull you close, then spin you around, always so deliberate but never rushed. The chemistry was undeniable, it was practically written in the stars. Bed chem, the kind that left no room for hesitation.
And when that moment finally came, you knew everything would fall into place, just like you imagined. The perfect rhythm, the thermostat set just right, every movement in sync.
It was only a matter of time.
The days that followed felt like a slow burn, each one stretching out as you found yourself replaying that moment over and over. The anticipation built, winding tighter with every passing thought of him. Every time your phone buzzed, your pulse quickened, hoping it was another message from Nanami, and more often than not, it was.
His texts were short, simple—never too much, but just enough to keep the flame alive. He didn’t need to say much for you to read between the lines. Each message held a certain calm confidence, like he knew exactly what he was doing, just like when you saw him at the party.
Each message was a spark, feeding the fire of your fantasies. Your mind wandered constantly, imagining every possible way the encounter could unfold. You knew it wouldn’t be rushed—it was never rushed with someone like Nanami. Everything about him was measured, thoughtful, intentional.
How’s your week?
Thinking about that conversation.
Looking forward to next week.
By the time the day finally arrived, you could feel your nerves dancing in your chest, excitement pulsing beneath your skin. You chose your outfit carefully, something that balanced elegance with subtle suggestion. You wanted to look as effortlessly composed as you imagined he would be.
When you arrived at the restaurant where he had suggested you meet, the atmosphere was warm, dimly lit, and intimate. Nanami was already there, sitting at a table near the window. He looked up as soon as you walked in, his eyes locking onto yours immediately, that same intensity you remembered from the party.
As you approached, he stood to greet you, his hand resting lightly on your back as he leaned in for a polite kiss on the cheek. His touch was brief but electric, and you felt the heat rise in your chest.
“You look stunning, darling.” he said, his voice deep and smooth, just as you remembered.
You smiled, brushing off the compliment with a modest shrug, but the way his eyes lingered told you he wasn’t just being polite. The dinner itself was a dance, every word exchanged adding to the tension that simmered between you. You talked about the show, your careers, little moments from your lives—but beneath it all, there was the unspoken promise of what was to come.
It wasn’t long before the two of you found yourselves alone, walking down the quiet city streets. The cool night air did little to cool the heat that was growing between you. His hand brushed yours as you walked, a casual but deliberate touch that sent a shiver down your spine.
Then, as if on cue, he stopped, turning to face you. His eyes held yours for a long moment, the city lights casting shadows over his sharp features.
“Should we continue this somewhere more private?” His voice was calm, but there was a subtle edge to it, the tension in his question making your breath catch.
You nodded, your heart racing as he reached for your hand, his grip firm but gentle as he led you toward his place. The walk was quiet, the air thick with anticipation. When you finally arrived, it felt like the world had slowed down, the moment you had been waiting for was finally here.
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YOU WERE ASTOUNDED HOW SUAVE HIS EXISTENCE IS. The sight of his apartment took you by surprise, sleek and minimal yet warm, much like him. Everything was perfectly arranged, clean lines and subtle comfort that mirrored his understated charm. You couldn’t help but admire him, drawn in by everything he was. The more you were around him, the more you wanted—his presence, his touch, his everything.
He glanced at you, his gaze never wavering as he slipped off his jacket, hanging it neatly over the back of a chair. In an instant, he was standing before you, hands on your waist, drawing you close with a quiet, commanding energy. The world outside faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in the dimly lit room.
His lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm as he whispered, "I’ve been thinking about this all week." 
The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could respond, his lips found yours. The kiss was slow at first, deliberate, as if savoring the moment. You could feel the excitement become even more palpable in you.
Each movement of his mouth felt carefully measured, like he had been imagining this for far longer than you realized. His hands moved with an easy confidence, sliding across your body, each touch making you feel as though he had memorized every inch of you.
When he lifted you, it felt seamless, effortless, as though you weighed nothing at all in his arms. He carried you to the bedroom, his strong grip both protective and possessive.
There was an undeniable chemistry between you—every brush of his skin against yours, every touch electric and charged with desire. His movements were slow, savoring the build-up, as if he had waited too long for this moment to rush through it.
Your breaths came out shallow and uneven as his lips moved from yours, down the length of your neck, leaving a burning trail in their wake. Each press of his mouth against your skin felt deliberate, purposeful, sending sparks of heat coursing through you. 
His scent filled the space between you, rich and heady, mixing with the warmth of his body as he pressed closer. Every inch of you was aware of him—the solid strength of his frame, the way his breath hitched slightly as his hands roamed over you.
Kento’s fingers grazed the curve of your waist before tightening on your hips, pulling you against him with a quiet but undeniable hunger. The sensation of his body molded so tightly to yours made your heart race, your skin tingling with anticipation. 
You bit your lip, trying to steady your breath, but it was impossible under the weight of his touch, his presence. His knee nudged between your thighs, parting them with a gentle yet insistent pressure, the friction sending a fresh wave of desire flooding through you.
"You feel so good, sweetie." he whispered, his voice low and rough, filled with want.
A soft moan slipped from your lips as his hands roamed lower, teasing the edge of your clothes before slipping beneath the fabric. His fingers dug in, just enough to make you gasp, his touch hot against your skin. The sensation of him—his rough palms gliding over your bare skin, the tension coiling between you—was intoxicating, leaving you breathless.
You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your neck, clearly pleased with the effect he was having on you. "I love hearing you like that, sweetie." he murmured, his breath warm and teasing as his mouth hovered near your ear. "Don’t hold back."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching toward him as his fingers dipped lower, exploring you with an eagerness that made you ache. You gasped, unable to stop the sound that escaped your throat as his fingers slipped inside you, moving with a skill that left you trembling.
"Oh—Kento. Oh, baby….." you whimpered, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as your body pressed closer to his, desperate for more of his touch. He groaned softly in response, the sound vibrating through you.
His fingers moved inside you with purpose, every stroke calculated, every flick of his wrist sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His thumb found the sensitive bundle of nerves that made you cry out, your hips bucking instinctively against him.
"God, you’re so responsive. I like that." he growled, his voice rough with desire. His free hand gripped your waist, holding you steady as his fingers moved faster, building a rhythm that had you teetering on the edge of control.
"I want you to come for me, sweetheart." he breathed against your ear, his voice low and commanding.
You couldn’t help it. The way he touched you, the way he knew exactly what you needed—it was too much. Your body responded without hesitation, muscles tightening as pleasure coiled deep inside you, ready to snap. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, broken and breathless, as you reached that sweet crescendo, your body trembling in his arms.
Kento didn’t want to stop, didn’t slow, as you rode the wave of pleasure. His fingers stayed inside you, coaxing every last bit of sensation from you, until you were left breathless, trembling, and utterly undone in his arms.
Kento’s fingers slowly withdrew, leaving you sensitive and aching, but he wasn’t done. His sharp gaze darkened as he looked down at you, his breath hot against your skin. He shifted, positioning himself between your thighs, and you felt a fresh rush of heat flood through you as his hands gently spread your legs wider, exposing your most sensitive, intimate places to him.
"You look incredible, slick like this." he murmured, his voice husky with desire. His eyes roamed over your body, lingering on every curve and soft line before settling on the glistening heat between your legs. The way he looked at you, so intent, so focused, made your heart race even faster.
Without a word, he lowered his head, his lips brushing the inside of your thigh with soft, teasing kisses. You shuddered beneath him, anticipation buzzing through your veins as his mouth inched closer to where you needed him most.
When his tongue finally flicked against your sensitive folds, you gasped, your back arching off the bed as pleasure shot through you. His touch was gentle at first, soft and exploratory, as if he was savoring the moment. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he took his time, each lick and kiss slow and deliberate.
"Kento—" you moaned, your voice breathless and needy. His hands slid up your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you steady, his mouth working against you with a precision that drove you wild.
"Mm, s’ good." he hummed against you, the vibration of his voice sending a fresh wave of sensation through your core. His tongue swirled over your clit, slow and deliberate, before he sucked gently, and the world around you seemed to blur as pleasure bloomed deep in your belly.
"You taste so sweet. So so sweet." he growled at you, his voice low and full of hunger. He didn’t give you a moment to recover, his mouth returning to its work, tongue stroking over you in long, languid movements that left you trembling beneath him.
Your hands gripped the sheets, your body writhing against his mouth as he worked you closer to the edge. Every flick of his tongue, every soft press of his lips had you teetering on the brink, the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you.
"Please, please." you whimpered, your hips bucking against his face. "Don’t stop, Kento—"
He growled softly in response, his hands tightening on your thighs to hold you still as he intensified his pace. His tongue moved faster, more insistently, flicking and stroking your clit with a pressure that made you cry out. You could feel yourself unraveling, your body trembling uncontrollably as he pushed you closer and closer to release.
The heat inside you built with every stroke of his tongue, every soft moan he let out against you, until you couldn’t hold back any longer. Your body tensed, your muscles tightening as the pleasure overwhelmed you, and with a final, desperate cry, you came undone, your release crashing over you in waves.
Kento could only find himself addicted in your taste, his mouth continuing to work against you, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm until you were trembling, breathless, and utterly spent beneath him. Finally, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal, and he looked up at you with a satisfied, almost possessive smile.
"You’re incredible, sweetie." he whispered, his voice rough and low as he moved back up your body, his lips finding yours again in a slow, heated kiss. You could taste yourself on him, and it only made you want him more.
"Kento..." you breathed, your voice barely audible but full of want. The way you said his name made him pause, his eyes darkening with desire as they met yours.
He leaned in again, his lips hovering near your ear, his voice deep and rough. “Gonna keep making you feel good, sweetie.” 
His thumb brushed against your lower lip before claiming your mouth again in a kiss that was no longer soft or patient but filled with raw, undeniable hunger. His need for you was palpable now, every kiss, every touch pushing you both closer to the edge.
The night unraveled slowly, deliberately, as if time itself bowed to the intensity of the moment. His movements, once restrained and careful, had given way to a raw passion that filled the air with a palpable heat. The soft glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains cast fleeting shadows on his face, highlighting the quiet hunger in his eyes as he gazed down at you.
His lips, warm and persistent, traced a slow, deliberate path over the curve of your neck, sending shivers cascading down your spine. Your breath hitched as his mouth moved lower, each kiss searing your skin with a promise of what was to come. 
His fingers followed, brushing against your skin with the lightest of touches, drawing a soft gasp from you. Every time he whispered your name, his voice low and filled with desire, it felt like the room itself pulsed in response, his words sinking into your very core.
“God, you’re so beautiful, sweetie.” he murmured, his breath hot against your collarbone, his eyes dark with an intensity that made your heart race.
Your body arched beneath him, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation building with every gentle caress. He paused for a moment, hovering above you, his gaze locked with yours, the weight of his control making your pulse quicken. It was as if he could sense every thought, every want, every need—knowing exactly how to unravel you. And you, caught in the tide of his desire, could do nothing but surrender.
“Please...” you breathed, the word slipping from your lips before you could even stop yourself. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes remained focused, intent.
His hands moved lower, his touch no longer teasing but commanding, each movement calculated to drive you closer to the edge. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, the anticipation almost unbearable as his lips brushed against your ear, sending another wave of heat through your body.
“I’ve got you, sweetie.” he whispered, his voice a dark promise that sent a jolt of desire straight through you. And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity of delicious torment, he positioned himself above you, his body pressing against yours in a way that made you ache with need. “Doin’ so good for me already, aren’t you?”
When he entered you, it felt like the culmination of everything—the tension, the desire, the quiet longing that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. A soft moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, his movements slow and deliberate, each thrust deep and steady, leaving you breathless.
Your hands found his back, your nails digging in as you clung to him, the intensity of it all building between you like a storm ready to break. His breath was ragged now, mingling with yours in the heated air, every thrust a silent declaration of the connection that bound you together.
“Don’t stop, Kento…. Don’t…Oh—” you whispered, your voice breaking as he moved faster, his control unraveling just enough for you to feel the full force of his desire. His lips found yours again, his kiss rough and hungry, matching the rhythm of his body as you moved together, lost in the heat and the need for more.
Each movement, each breath, felt like an unspoken promise, his body telling you everything he couldn’t say aloud. In that moment, there was no space for hesitation, no room for anything but the overwhelming intensity of him, of you, of the way you fit together so perfectly.
When you finally came, it was everything you hadn’t known you needed. Kento’s name fell from your lips over and over, a soft chant as waves of pleasure washed over you, your body tightening around his. The intensity of it left you breathless, your fingers clutching him as if afraid to let go. Moments later, he followed you, his body tensing as he found his own release, his low groan sending shivers through you all over again.
For a long time, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the quiet, shared breaths of two people completely undone by the moment. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively, his warmth enveloping you as you lay tangled together, the weight of what had just passed between you still lingering in the air.
Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft but filled with satisfaction. “Well, I think you got your answer.” 
“Oh? About what?”
“We have bed chem.” He grins at you, kissing your shoulder. 
You blinked and then laughed.
You could feel your heart still racing, and looked up at him, knowing that this moment was just the beginning.
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epilogue 
The sunlight filtered through the bedroom window, casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets that barely covered your body. You stretched lazily, feeling the soft, comforting weight of the blankets and the familiar presence of Nanami beside you.
His arm was draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling steadily as he slept. The peaceful moment was too perfect to pass up, so you quietly reached for your phone, snapping a quick picture of the two of you in the soft morning light.
The sheets barely covered your bodies, your bare skin visible beneath the white fabric. The scene was intimate, cozy, and full of the quiet warmth of a morning spent wrapped in each other’s arms. You couldn’t resist adding a cheeky caption before posting it online:
“Come right on me, I mean camaraderie.”
The double entendre made you giggle quietly as you hit "post" knowing it was bound to get some playful reactions. You leaned back into the pillows, snuggling against Kento, who stirred slightly at your movement, his hand tightening around your waist.
“What are you up to?” he mumbled sleepily, his voice rough from sleep. His eyes opened just enough to catch your mischievous grin.
“Nothing… Just posting a little morning memory, darling.” you teased, unable to contain the laughter bubbling up inside you. Kento’s brow furrowed, clearly suspicious but too tired to press further.
It didn’t take long for the comments to start rolling in. Within minutes, his phone buzzed repeatedly on the nightstand. Kento could only feel himself groaning, reaching for it, and as soon as he saw the notifications lighting up the screen, his eyes widened in realization.
“You didn’t…?” His voice trailed off as he stared at the picture you had posted, the cheeky caption front and center.
You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, watching as Nanami’s expression shifted from confusion to mild horror, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. He scrolled through the comments, and you could see the flood of teasing messages from his castmates already coming in.
@/GojoSatoru: Nanami, my man! Didn’t know you had this side to you! 😂
@/Geto Suguru: Yo, Kento…….You really kinky IRL, huh?
@/HaibaraYu: Is that what we call ‘teamwork’ now? Guess I’ve been doing it all wrong… 😏
@/IeiriShoko: Honestly? Kinda iconic. But also, never gonna let you live this down.
Kento could feel his blush deepened as he kept scrolling, his lips pressed into a thin line, clearly flustered. His hand ran through his hair in frustration, and he glanced at you with an exasperated but fond look.
“I can’t believe you posted that, sweetie.” he muttered, shaking his head as more notifications flooded in. “They’re never going to stop teasing me about this.”
You couldn’t stop giggling, leaning over to kiss his cheek, which was now bright red. “Come on, it’s cute. They’ll forget about it soon enough… maybe.”
Kento groaned again, but there was a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulled you closer. “You’re impossible, hm.” he said, though the warmth in his voice made it clear he wasn’t actually upset. He kissed your forehead softly, the tension in his body relaxing as he resigned himself to the teasing. “Too impossible.”
“I don’t mind being impossible if it makes you blush like this.” you teased, running your fingers through his hair, enjoying the rare sight of Kento looking flustered.
“Don’t push your luck, sweetie.” he replied, though the way his arms wrapped around you betrayed the affection behind his words. He sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I guess I’ll have to get used to being the subject of their jokes for a while.”
You grinned, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
Nanami chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting. “You already have, sweetheart.” he murmured, his hand brushing a lock of hair away from your face. His eyes softened as he looked at you, the teasing forgotten as the moment between you became tender again.
“I don’t care what they say, though.” he added quietly. “All that matters is this. Us.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, the teasing moment giving way to a warmth that spread through your chest. You snuggled closer into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours, and smiled.
“Good. So do I.” you whispered, kissing him again, the teasing fading into the background as the two of you enjoyed the quiet intimacy of the morning.
Nanami Kento could feel his phone buzzing again, but this time, neither of you bothered to check it. Let them tease—it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding comfort in the simple joy of being together.
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just-a-sewer-goblin · 1 month ago
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Collars Of Duty 4
MalinoisHybrid!Simon x reader
- Chapter 3 - Chapter 5
Simon's gone and you're left to deal with his sudden absence. But maybe it's not all over yet.
~ 8,3k Words
Content (might contain spoilers): reader being mean to themselves in their thoughts, hybrid AU, mention of past injury, hints at past attack, mentions of therapy, biting, blood
A.N: I messed with the COD timeline here. I know that some of the things I mention don't happen during this time and don't fit with the canon but it's my AU so shush. Curious if you lot catch the cameo. Have fun. Also not my best chapter but I poured a lot of heart, time and effort into it.
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It’s been almost a week since Simon’s transport back to England. A week that you’ve spent at home again. The day you arrived at work to find Simon gone you went back to medical leave. Now as you sit on your couch and look out through your living room window you wonder if that was the best decision.
Simon’s sudden absence left you hollower than you anticipated. You spent barely a week by his side, most of which he was unconscious. So how come you care so damn much already?
You go through your usual routine. Making food, going outside, meeting friends, attending therapy, working on your mind and body. You do everything you did the past few weeks that helped you get back to your feet after Phillip but the worry for Simon won’t fade. It’s always there in the back of your head, a nagging feeling that leaves you thinking about him way more than you probably should.
Is he okay? Are they taking good care of him? Do they take it slow and take his trauma and needs into consideration? Does he have a handler that knows how to help him? How are his wounds?
You feel silly for caring so much about the large hybrid but another pitiful part of you whispers that it might prove that you’re a good person. Caring so much about someone you barely know surely proves that you have a good heart.
Then there’s another part that admonishes you for thinking that. No truly good person would think about whether their actions or thoughts make them a good person and you grow ashamed again. You try to shove all those thoughts somewhere in a corner of your mind where you don’t have to hear them constantly. The back and forth driving you insane without coming up with any conclusive answer.
You worry about him. That’s how it is. You care There is nothing you can do to change that except try not to think about him so much. But honestly you don’t want to stop thinking about him. Something about Simon struck your heart and you feel the need to figure out what.
You sigh as you nurse your mug with your favourite hot beverage in it, taking another slow sip savoring the taste. Has Simon ever had a drink like this? You sigh. Here you go again, thinking about the malinois hybrid without pause.
You let your head fall back against the backrest of the couch, staring at the ceiling. When did your home start feeling more like a self inflicted prison? There’s a restlessness growing in you. It’s starting deep in your stomach and spreads its way through your limbs making you bounce your knee until you almost spill your drink jerking your head back up to safe it at the last second.
Why did you go back to medical leave? You had been more than willing to return for Simon’s case. But as soon as he left you went back home like a snail hiding in it’s shell. You rest your elbows on your knees and let your head hang forward the muscles of your neck stretching uncomfortably.
You’re a damn coward. Resting at home. It doesn’t feel like healing anymore it feels like you’re running away. Running from the center and all the hybrids it houses. You hate it, hate Phillip for ruining all dog hybrids with just one attack. Why does he have the power to make you afraid of all of them. It’s not fair.
Do the others think you’re a coward as well? Hiding at home again after you came back for a week. What is management thinking? That you could return for an emergency but not for the relative calmness of every day? What will happen if you don’t come back quick enough for them? Will you lose your job? Would they actually fire you over something like this?
Just like that sitting at home feels like wasted time. Every minute spent on your couch is a minute you could be working and trying to get over your fear. And suddenly your certain that you have to return to work if you want to make further progress.
Additionally to your sudden urgency to just do something instead of sitting at home and licking your wounds the thought of everyone secretly judging your return to absence makes you feel itchy. But it’s your own judgment makes you the most uncomfortable. You can’t escape your own thoughts that remind you how cowardly you’re behaving. How you’re wasting away thinking about a hybrid who never even was your charge.
Thinking about a hybrid who you foolishly put a lot of hope into.
It makes no logical sense that you feel like Simon was your way back to working with hybrids. You had been sure that working with a problem hybrid would be the worst thing that could happen to you. You had been sure it would make you feel worse and undo everything you’ve achieved in therapy so far.
Now it feels like anyone other than the problem hybrid will hinder your recovery.
For a moment you feel selfish for wanting to gain something out of helping a hybrid. How can you think like that? Even if working with one stops your progress it would be worth it if you could help them. It’s not their job to help you. You’re supposed to help them, that’s what you’re being paid for, dammit. Helping them without gaining anything should be all you want.
Still it would be the best case scenario if working with one would also allow you to slowly get used to them again. It would be nice if the hybrid could help you too. And you decide that you can allow yourself that little bit of selfishness.
But even if that best case scenario were to happen. Before you can get anyone elses help you’ll have to want to help yourself.
The days of peacefully sitting on your couch letting the world outside continue to turn while you exist in your own little reality that consists of your home and the doctors office are over. You’ve had enough time off. It’s time to return to work. If you don’t your own thoughts that continue to run in circles will drive you insane.
No matter how often you dissect what happened with Phillip it won’t change what happened and maybe it’s time to accept that.
It’s probably best if you go back to the center today, before you lose your drive. And what better way to return than just going for lunch. Nice and casual. Nothing scary. At least that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself of as your palms immediately begin getting sweaty.
It’s tiring always being scared and even if it scares you more to go back, at least you’re doing something. You can’t take another second of sitting at home waiting to feel better while doing nothing.
A sudden burst of energy has you rushing all over your home while you get ready and sprint out of your front door before your nerves catch up to you.
You try your hardest not to second guess yourself as your unsteady hands hold the access card against the entrance of the compound. It opens with a beep and you rush through. When you stand in front of the main building you freeze. Your hands are shaking and you will yourself to breathe deeply.
There will be a lot of hybrids at the cafeteria, and suddenly your feet wont take another step. Flashes of teeth, dripping with vicious saliva, snapping and tearing at you appear in your mind. You’re certain that there’s an aggressive hybrid growling behind you but when you turn there’s no one there. Wincing you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to make you feel some semblance of safety.
You’ve already managed to come here and turning around to go back home feels like defeat. You can already taste it’s bitter tang just from thinking about not going through with your plan. For a moment you chew on your lower lip, indecisive then you look up at the building. Liz should be working right now. Maybe she’s willing to have her break with you.
Taking two steps at once, you rush up the stairs hoping you don’t meet anyone, especially no hybrid before you reach Liz’ office. Your heart pumps hectically while you strain your ears to make sure you’ll hear approaching steps over your harsh breathing. You’re lucky, getting there without running into anyone and you quickly slip inside without knocking.
Your heart swells at the way Liz positively beams at your appearance. It should not surprise you as much as it does when she immediately takes her break so she can go to the cafeteria with you. The way she links her arm with yours is so easy and natural that it makes you gulp suppressing the strong urge to hide behind her.
You grow more and more tense the closer you get to the cafeteria. Liz chattering fading to the background even if it’s her attempt to distract you. There are two hybrids and their handlers joining your direction. Luckily they’re concentrated on their handlers and the promise of food after training. The two of them don’t even give you any attention besides a quick glance.
When you realize that they won’t attack, you relax minutely. Everything is okay, you’re okay. The hybrids at the center are all friendly. Usually.
Aggressive Hybrids are usually kept on leash. There’s various reasons why a handler might decide to keep their charge on a leash and none of the handlers here would let an aggressive hybrid roam free.
You almost manage to gain some control over your fear until you hear a sudden bark behind you. It’s loud and startling and you can feel your heart jump painfully in your chest.
You rip your arm away from Liz, whipping around. Fear clogs your throat and you can feel your eyes watering in sheer panic.
A golden retriever hybrid is running at you his steps slightly uneven. Where his left leg should be is a prosthetic attached but it does nothing to slow him down. His handler is further down the hallway and from the leash that loosely hangs from the hybrids collar it’s evident that he ripped himself free from his handlers hold.
His ears are perked up and flop with every step, his face lit up with obvious joy but it doesn’t help the terror that floods through you at the sight of him running at you. A very faint voice reminds you that you know this hybrid and he wouldn’t hurt you, but that voice is easily silence by the dread that overpowers everything.
He stretches his arms out to the side and Liz takes a step forward.
Before he reaches you, or Liz can step into his way you thrust out your hand out in front of yourself in sheer desperation.
“STOP!”
Alex skids to a halt like he just ran against a wall, having to shift his weight so he doesn’t fall. The prosthetic makes an awful screeching noise as it scrapes over the floor. His ears droop and his tail halts mid wag, uncertain what just happened. You’d feel bad at the obvious hurt in his expression if you weren’t so desperately harnessing your fear to shove it back into the dark corner it crawled from.
Panic squeezes your lungs and denies you access to your own breaths. You think you hear Liz tell Alex’ handler to wait when he goes to grab Alex’ leash but you concentrate on regulating your wheezing breaths, your hand still outstretched to halt Alex.
The golden hybrid looks at you and takes a few small steps on the spot he’s glued to. His nostrils flare and he cocks his head at you.
“You’re afraid of me?” He half asks half states and the devastation in his voice rips your heart right in two. A whine makes its way from his chest and you shake your head. You panic retreating at the need to reassure and calm the hybrid. He did nothing wrong and here you are, hurting him by panicking.
“No! I’m not scared of you.” You say even if you’re not sure whether that’s true. But you need to say something, anything to stop the hurt in his eyes. He cocks his head at you in question.
“Just got spooked from the way your ran at me.”
He visibly perks back up at that, his tail slowly starting to wag again even if it’s decidedly less enthusiastic than before. Then it slowly gains momentum, getting quicker and stronger until his entire body wriggles with his joy and the sight steals a small smile from you.
“I only wanted to hug you. I haven’t seen you in forever. I promise I won’t rush. May I hug you?” He asks with so much hope in his voice that you can’t say no.
Briefly you scan his body language, finding nothing but excitement and restraint so you nod even if the way your blood rushes through you is almost painful.
Alex stays true to his word, slowly steps forward, opening his arms for you and waits until you mirror the gesture. Then he wraps his bulky frame around you, squeezing you to his chest. Immediately he pushes his face against you and takes a deep breath, smelling you. His mustache tickles you and you squirm giggling inadvertently.
He rumbles deep in his chest, huffs in displeasure at your movements which only makes you giggle and squirm more. Your fear slowly retracts its claws from your chest, hissing in displeasure at your entire being remembering Alex as safe.
You can feel him relax right along with you. Until all that is left is warmth and contentment. The close contact to him after weeks of staying away as far as possible from any and all hybrids fills your chest with warmth choking you up slightly. After you allow yourself to bask in his hug for as long as you deem acceptable and after you swallow your tears back down, you step back and shake your head at him fondly.
“You know that this is exactly why you’re still on leash. Always so easily distracted rushing off to investigate whatever scent you caught. Although I’m honored I’m the distraction this time.”
He folds his ears back and the chuckle of his handler reminds you of his and Liz presence. The man, Chad, steps forward and gently cuffs the back of Alex head. The hybrid playfully snaps in the direction of his fingers. You nearly flinch until you remind yourself that this is Alex and he’s just playing.
“Lucky for him we’re not training right now and you’re a very special distraction. It’s good to see you again.”
You remember the day you left Alex as his charge, a mixture of pride and pain in your chest. You’d worked months with Alex after he lost his leg in an explosion during a mission. You’d helped him regain his agility and confidence and it was only normal that you developed a deep bond with the hybrid.
It was always a happy occasion when a hybrid got to go back to having a work handler and you shake Chads outstretched hand with a warm smile. As you make your way into the cafeteria you try to concentrate on Alex and his handler, who’s taken his leash in hand again.
“We get to go back to the real work next week.” Alex tells you puffing his chest and pride blooms in your own chest. You know how much his work means to him and it will be great to see him leave the center after a year and a half of working hard to get back in shape. Still the thought stings a little.
You’ll miss him. He’s been one of your favorite charges and even after you left him in Chad’s capable hands - so they could work and train to become a team while Alex fully regained his abilities - it was nice to meet him in the hallways and outside on the training grounds.
You try to concentrate on the joy instead. He’ll get to go back to doing what he loves and you wonder when you’ll be able to do the same. With the way you currently need to check every hybrid around you for any sign of aggression you don’t see any possibility of you taking on a new charge soon.
With Simon it had been easy. He’d been an emergency which left not enough time to think, to doubt, to get lost in your fear. Now that he’s gone you have too much time to cook up all the worst case scenarios in your head again.
While you try to have lunch without always looking around like a spooked rabbit you get to watch Chad and Alex interact and their easy camaraderie and banter makes you jealous. It makes you overly aware of the fact that you’re unable to interact with a hybrid like that at the moment.
But you love this job. You love working with them and helping them and developing all these bonds. Harshly you stab your fork into the food. Even if it takes forever, you will be able to do it again.
As if to mock you the scar on your shoulder throbs at the aggressive movement and you subconsciously reach up, pressing against it. Alex turns his head towards you from his place besides you. You give him a small tight lipped smile.
He says nothing, but under the table he moves his leg until his thigh touches you and you stare down at the contact.
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The next day you join Alex and Chad while training at their insistence the day before. They’re all too eager to show off their hard work to you and it’s almost mesmerizing the way they clear the obstacle course together.
The centers agility course is a jungle of platforms that are raised over the ground with obstacles in between. The platforms vary from the size of your hand to a square meter and some are slanted to test the balance.
They can be roughly divided into two heights one being a few centimeters above the ground while the second level is mostly at two meters with platforms of varying heights in between. There is no designated path through the course which allows a handler to challenge a hybrid with new angles at already well known obstacles.
The slight tugs Chad gives on the leash help Alex to find the right footing while he concentrates on sniffing out the hidden object. You.
You’re crouched behind an obstacle that’s on the second level, keeping out of sight. You peek at the pair of them moving through the course stopping at a point where you doubled back to confuse Alex.
The single minded focus of the hybrid is admirable but also dangerous out in the field. In the field concentrating on nothing besides what he’s supposed to sniff out means running into the line of fire, stepping onto a contact mine or whatever other horrible things wait for them in the field. That is why he’s connected to Chad with the leash.
You almost shout a warning, your heart leaping into your throat, when Alex lifts his head to track your scent not watching the small platforms under his feet. You can already see his foot miss the next platform but Chad gives a gentle tug and Alex rights his direction without looking down.
His foot finds the platform and you exhale heavily with relief. You can only continue watching in awe. You’d known that Chad was a good handler. While working with Philip you had often seen the two of them train but you always had your own hybrid to concentrate on so you never got to appreciate the incredible team these two make.
Alex finds you easily while Chad watches over him, clearing his path, making sure he doesn’t get hurt while he concentrates on his work and when Alex finds you in record time, you can’t help but clap and holler in excitement.
Chad ruffles Alex hair and the golden retriever hybrid beams with pride. His tail wags a mile a minute and when you’re all back down on the ground he does a few silly circles on the spot giving an excited bark which makes Chad laugh.
A deep feeling of peace settles over you. This is what it’s supposed to be like. A soft smile sneaks onto your lips. Watching Chad and Alex is weirdly healing, reminding you of what a healthy hybrid handler relationship looks like. You have been able to build one with every charge you’ve had besides Phillip. And with him it wasn’t because you didn’t try.
For the first time fear isn’t the first emotion bubbling up when you think about Phillip. This time it’s sadness. In his chase for his independence he sold his soul to someone else. But you don’t think that the proud hybrid realized that. He probably didn’t realize that the gesture of attacking you was empty considering the reasons for it. It proved jack shit. But hey at least he got what he wanted in the end.
Even that thought doesn’t chase the sadness away. So you concentrate back on Chad and Alex and you realize you’re a little less frustrated with yourself when you go to bed that evening. You got to work with a hybrid again and it had went well. Things will get better after all.
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After the day you spent with Alex you come back to work for good. You do not have your own charge at the moment but you try to be useful in every way you can. Instead of working with a hybrid you start helping with the equipment, running errands and giving the other handlers advice that you feel not qualified to give considering how long you’ve been absent and the reason for your absence.
The way you try to avoid running into hybrids makes you feel ashamed of yourself once more but you don’t have it in you to just casually cross paths with them. It’s so stupid, the way one hybrid ruined every hybrid for you. You’re determined to change that, to not see a threat in every hybrid but maybe… maybe not today.
You duck around the corner as you spot a hybrid walking down the hallway with her handler and press yourself against the wall counting down from ten to calm yourself. It’s frustrating as hell that interacting with Alex didn’t magically heal you.
Why could one hybrid not heal the wounds of one other hybrid? Your pulse still jumps at every hybrid you see. You still try to hide instead of normally passing them. And you grow frustrated with yourself. Healing sucks. It’s hard to understand why books and movies always seem to picture it as this magical beautiful journey when most of the time it feels like running in circles and standing in your own way.
How would things be if Simon was still here? Would you walk the hallways unafraid with his large form looming next to you? Maybe if he’d become your charge you would feel better already.
You shake your head. Thinking about that doesn’t help you, you try to remind yourself. Simon’s in England and there isn’t anything you can do.
You peek around the corner, seeing that the hybrid is gone you continue on your way, glad that the tiles help you hear when someone’s approaching. You look at the stack of papers in your arms and almost scoff at yourself. Running errands instead of doing what you actually get paid for.
But with Simon gone you don’t know how you’re supposed to jump into the deep end and take the position as a handler again.
You should have known. You should have known it would come back to bite you in the ass that you didn’t sign the handler agreement. Maybe with that you could have been transferred with Simon and stayed by his side for the time it will take for him to be able to go back to active duty.
Apparently the Doc had asked for the papers that prove that Simon is your charge so she could have you called to the center before he left. When she called the office they had to tell her that no such papers were signed.
You’re lucky that the Doc hasn’t told anyone that you lied to gain access to his medical report. At least you don’t think she has or someone would have approached you about it by now. It still might happen and you’re unsure whether you should talk to her about it before you possibly get a lawsuit.
Thinking about that does nothing to calm your racing heart and you almost flee inside Liz’ office when it comes into view as if her presence will shield you from your own thoughts and feelings as well.
You drop the stack of papers on her desk and she sighs, pushing up her glasses and meets you eyes.
“I should probably thank you but honestly, how dare you bring this to me instead of accidentally spilling coffee all over them.”
Hearing Liz who enjoys the office work say something like that startles a laugh out of you and she grins.
“One of those days?” You ask and she nods, stretches her arms over her head and groans when her back audibly pops.
She takes her smoothie and slurps it through her straw. “You know I looked into it for you. But there is no way for us to obtain any information on Simon’s well being. I’m sorry.”
You plop down into the empty chair before her desk and crane your neck until you’re staring at the ceiling. “Yeah. I already expected that. If only I had signed those damned papers.”
You catch Liz shrug out of your peripheral vision. “Well with the English laws being the way they are it’s not certain that would have done anything either.”
Lazily you let your head roll forward. “Hm?”
“Ah, right. You only do the hands on work. The hybrid-handler laws in England demand the hybrid to sign an agreement too for the handler-hybrid relationship to have legal effect. So your signature alone would probably not give you any information on him anyway.”
“Oh.” You think about it. You know the English laws are different but you never looked into it since they don’t concern you, at least they never did until now. Either way you will never know what’s become of Simon and it frustrates you.
“Well, it is what it is.” You say resigned and put your hands on your knees to push yourself up. If only you could mean that. “Back to running errands I go.”
Before you can leave the room Liz’ voice stops you. “You have to take on a charge again at some point.”
You half turn to her smiling, even though you don’t feel like smiling at all. “Exactly. ‘At some point.’ That point is not now. It’s barely been a few days of me being back.”
She shakes her head at you and you’d be embarrassed or angry at her disappointed expression but you know it’s because she cares. “Why are you so damn hesitant? You were fully ready to take Simon as charge?”
You purse your lips in thought, turning to her fully. “With him it was easy. I didn’t have time to imagine all the things that could go wrong. Just ‘bam here’s this hybrid you have to take care of’. Now that he’s gone I have too much time to think about what it means to take on a new charge.”
Liz clicks her tongue. “Maybe I’ll just drop a hybrid at your doorstep so you don’t have time to think.”
You gasp in mock offense. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.” She says dryly and you’re not sure if she’s still joking. So you laugh it off while fleeing her office before she decides to make any more valid points.
That better have been a joke or you’d strangle her. And then thank her because thinking about it - dropping a hybrid at your doorstep might actually work. Your close the door, turn to walk back down the hallway and almost walk into Meg from HR.
“Oh good. I was looking for you.”
You gulp. Oh no. Did the Doc rat you out after all? Would they fire you? Shit. You rub your palms against your pants. Did you do anything wrong? What if she knows you lied to get the Doc to talk about Simon? Would they file a lawsuit because of something like that?
“Follow me.” She says curtly and you nod, too startled and scared to get a simple yes out. Walking behind her through the hallway makes you feel like you’re walking to your own execution and you thank whoever is listening that you don’t run into any hybrids. You’re not sure your heart could handle any more anxiety.
The clicking of her door closing while she indicates for you to sit down at her desk sounds like a threat and when you sit you rub your sweaty palms against your thighs.
She sits down on her side of the desk and clicks something on her computer then she looks at you seriously and you feel like you’ll be in serious trouble in a few second. Hopefully you won’t cry, that would be embarrassing.
She sighs. “Do you remember the aggressive hybrid you were called in for from your leave?”
You nod and this time you manage to weakly say: “Yes.” Oh no. Oh no no no no. Pleas no.
She taps a pen against her chin and studies you. “You know we really hoped you could take another charge soon so management isn’t the happiest about it but we were promised a substitute and compensation so we decided to leave it up to you.”
Is she doing this on purpose? Dragging it out? What substitute? What the hell is going on?
“We got a request for you from the center in England he is currently at. They want you to work there with him for however long it takes to get him back on his feet. You’re one of our best even if you’re currently not exactly fitting your job description. I heard you got along well with him.” Something in her gaze softens at her last statement and you release your held breath a heavy weight dropping off your shoulders.
She doesn’t know about the papers. It feels like your heart can finally get a break. But then everything she said hits you and you start nervously bouncing your leg. They requested you? You’re sure they have more than enough handlers at the center he’s currently at. Surely they have competent personnel?
“Why… did they request me?” You carefully ask, not sure you’re allowed to ask any questions. Which is absurd if you think about it because of course you’re allowed to ask questions if she specifically called you to her office to give you a choice.
She purses her lips and twirls the pen in her fingers. “Apparently he’s giving them trouble. They don’t know what to do and found out he was more comfortable with you. Usually they would just give a problematic hybrid like him a medical discharge from his duties but apparently he’s a big enough asset for them to reach out to us.”
You nod trying to understand. What happened? Things hadn’t looked that bad. What had happened that Simon is once again deemed a problematic? Are you willing to go to England for an unknown amount of time because they ask you to? It might be months until he’s rehabilitated.
Your thoughts return to the few moments you had with him. You remember him in the bath, the way he’d let you dry his hair. The way you felt like you might overcome your fear with him. Maybe you don’t have to try with another hybrid. Maybe Simon is meant to be your charge so you can both help each other. This might be what you’ve been waiting for without knowing.
You’re a bit unsettled by how quick you’ve come to your decision. You should probably think this through more but you’d sign the handler papers in a heartbeat. That reminds you…
“What about him? Don’t the laws in England demand that he agrees with me being his handler?”
She nods, rifles through a stack of paper on her table and finally finds what she’s looking for. She folds the stapled stack of papers open on the last page and slides it over her desk towards you. At the bottom two lines for signatures sit.
“He already signed.”
You stare at the line where his name sits in neat block writing. You can’t help yourself but run your finger over it. Your heart thumps hectically in your chest. He already agreed to you being his handler. All you have to do is sign as well. You try to come up with all the logical questions and things that should make you hesitate.
“What about housing and stuff?” You hate how you say ‘stuff’ like you don’t know what you’re talking about. Your thoughts are rushing. You have a hard time getting a hold of them. Taking care of contracts and the whole organizational stuff was never your strong suit. Your strong suit is working with hybrids, at least you thought so until Phillip. But the fact that Simon apparently wants you as his handler makes the smallest bit of confidence grow.
They want you in England because whatever happened makes them think you can help him. Whatever he said makes them think you’re who they have to turn to. You can do this. This is also what the hybrid wants. What will happen to Simon if you refuse?
Meg rips you from your thoughts. “They board and lodge their staff if they chose to live on site.”
You nod and then hold your hand out for the pen.
“Are you sure?” Meg asks and hesitantly gives in to you. You scribble your signature on the line next to Simon’s.
“Yes.” You say. Actually you aren’t sure at all. It’s probably stupid to sign so quickly when you haven’t asked a lot of important questions but if you don’t sign now you’ll think about it and then fear will claw at your chest and prevent you from going for it. Maybe it’s stupid and reckless. But it feels right.
Meg shrugs and takes the paper with your signature back. “Alright. Simon Riley is officially your new charge. They want you over there as quickly as possible so you should take the earliest flight you can. We’ll prepare your papers and request your substitute.”
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Liz is gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles are stark white. Your knee is bouncing again and she glances at you from the corner of her eyes every now and then. She insisted on driving you to the airport and you’re very thankful despite arguing at first that she doesn’t have to.
“What is it?” You ask and now both your legs are bouncing.
Her hands shift on the wheel before gripping hard again. “Are you sure about this?”
You sigh and put your face in your hands. “No.” You mumble. She has the audacity to laugh at that. You shoot her a look and then start laughing too. What the hell are you doing? You’re about to fly to a whole other continent for a hybrid you don’t even really know.
She shrugs but her hands relax. “We can still cancel it all. I’ll kidnap you, no one will ever know that you tucked your tail and ran.”
That makes you laugh harder and you shake your head resting it back against the headrest. “I feel insane for this but I couldn’t say no. Maybe I’ll end up regretting this but maybe… Maybe everything will work out? What if this is what I need? A problem hybrid in a whole other country who wants me as his handler.”
Liz purses her lips. “I don’t know. I’ve never known you to be so impulsive but if you feel like you have to do this I won’t stop you. But if I receive word that you want to come back and don’t want to do this after all, I’ll terminate the contract and personally come get your ass back to the US.”
You snort at that but something in you calms down. Despite her joking tone you know that she means every word. You look at her for a while and it hits you that you don’t know how long you’ll be in England. Who knows when you’ll be in the same room as her again.
“Thank you.” You say quietly and Liz just nods.
The rest of the ride is comfortably quiet.
At the airport she squeezes you tightly and helps you with your luggage. Before you know it you’re on the plane and taking off. Your whole body starts getting jittery with nerves. You breathe deeply remembering one of the exercises your therapist gave you. She offered to keep holding your sessions online and you’re incredibly thankful for it.
You manage to calm down during the flight and even sneak in a nap, waking up with a racing heart to the announcement that the plane is on approach. As soon as you touch ground and have permission to use your phone you text Liz to let her know that you landed safely.
Half an hour later you’re in a cab going for the rehabilitation center you’ll stay at for an unknown amount of time. You wipe your hands on your pants thankful that the cab driver doesn’t try to make conversation so you can look out the window at the darkness of the evening.
It’s weird to think about how much more of the day Liz has left while it’s already very late evening here.
The street lights illuminate parts of the road and you feel like you’re dying inside from all the uncertainty of what is to come. You wish the drive would never end so you can’t arrive at the center. Alternatively you’d be happy with a concise list of what exactly will happen and who exactly you’ll meet. You get neither an endless ride nor a list. Sooner than you’d like the cab stops and you’re left with your gigantic luggage on the sidewalk.
You sincerely hope no one watches the awkward waddle you do while dragging your heavy bag with you to the front gate. Your wishes go unnoticed because someone approaches you quickly and you straighten up your heart jumping into your throat.
When the person is finally close enough for you to make them out clearly your breath hitches and you can’t help but look at him with wide eyes. He’s a snake hybrid. You’ve never seen one before and even if you’re aware of how rude it is you can’t stop staring.
“Welcome! You’re the handler from America, right?” He greets you and you gape at him nodding. He has a split tongue. The street lamps illuminate him dimly and if you aren’t mistaken the faint outline of scales is visible at his temples and his jaw.
He waits a moment and then slightly squirms under your scrutiny. “Ah. Am I your first snake hybrid?”
That manages to shake you out of it and you nod mumbling an apology. He easily hoists up your baggage onto his shoulder and opens a door in the gate with a key card.
“Don’t worry. I get that reaction with most people. We’re all really happy that you’re here. Simon has been… difficult to say the least.” The snake hybrid goes on and you can’t help but wonder how he knows so much. Who is he? Is he the companion hybrid of one of the handlers here?
You’re staring again while you follow him and his shoulders tense. “Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. How silly. I’m Nathair but please call me Nate.”
You give him your name in return and he stops for a moment to extend his hand for you to shake before continuing his way towards a large building. Before you can get a good look at the way it’s structured Nate leads you through the entrance door and towards a reception desk.
Smoothly he slides behind it sorting some papers and putting them in a folder then he gets a key card and stands again. He extends the folder to you and you take it before Nathair rounds the desk again, takes up your luggage once more and makes his way down a hallway. You hurry to follow.
“Those are some papers we need signed, some information like a map and the rules of our center. I also included Simon’s file.”
Suddenly your interest is piqued. “Where is he?”
Nate turns down another hallway and you already know it will take a while before you’re comfortable with the layout of the center. Thank god for the map.
“He’s being kept in a safety room where he will stay until he is ready to join you.”
“Join me?” You have to jog a few steps to keep up with Nate’s quick pace and when he notices he slows down. Here in the light of the building you can get a good look at him.
He’s magnificent. Broad shoulders, copper coloured hair and a dusting of dark reddish brows freckles that get denser towards his temples and fade into a few scattered scales. His skin is pale and along his jaw fading down his neck you can make out some more scales.
His eyes are big and round and something about them is slightly off. You can’t say exactly what it is though. The hands which are holding up your luggage are strong but slender and on the back of them you can once again see reddish brown scales disappear under his sleeves.
“Yes. Join you. Hybrids and handlers share their rooms here but with Simon being the way he is we didn’t deem it safe enough to bring him to the general housing wing yet. “
Suddenly you feel stupid again. You really agreed too quickly without enough information. You didn’t even know about the rooming situation. You straighten your shoulders. It’s too late now and it’s not like you would decide differently if you were given the choice again.
“This one’s yours.” Nate finally stops in front of a door. Right on the door, engraved in a small plastic plate, is your name. You swallow nervously as Nate unlocks it and puts your baggage down inside against the wall next to the entrance.
You walk in and a small smile blooms on your face. It’s cosy. Not so small that it feels cramped but not big enough to make you feel lost in it either. The curtains are drawn over the windows and there is even a small kitchenette cramped into the corner next to one of the windows.
On the right side nestled into a corner is a decently sized desk and on the left opposite to it is the bed pushed against the wall.
You walk in looking through an open door on the right side at the end of the room. It’s the bathroom. At the far end of the tiled room you see another door. Once you’ve scanned every corner you turn back to ask Nate about the door and you catch him with his split tongue out. He blushes a brilliant red under his freckles and lifts his hand to rub the back of his head.
“Ah… sorry. I was just smelling the room.” He sheepishly admits and you cock your head at him in curiosity.
“I smell better with my mouth and tongue than I do with my nose and I wanted to get your scent.”
You laugh at the embarrassed expression on his face and he turns even redder which makes you shake your head and put your hands up. “No, no! I’m not laughing at you!”
You take a step in his direction. “Nate, I work with dog hybrids for a living. I’m used to being smelled.”
He seems taken aback by that then he grins. “Do you mind then?”
You shake your head and Nate takes a step closer his split tongue testing the air for a few moments before he steps back and nods. “Thank you. Not knowing how someone smells feels like I don’t fully know who they are. Like I never saw a their face.”
You nod. “If I say I understand that I’d be lying because I obviously do not experience these things like you do. But it makes sense, no need to be embarrassed.”
He seems happy with that and looks around the room. His eyes settle on another door in the middle of the right wall. He steps towards it.
“Through this you’ll get to Simon’s room. It’s exactly the same as yours just mirrored. His room also shares the bathroom with yours.”
Ah that’s the other door you noticed in the bathroom. Curiously you open it and look into Simon’s room. Just like Nate says it’s a perfectly mirrored version of yours. But it’s empty and suddenly you can’t stay a moment longer here without having seen Simon. You need to make sure he’s okay.
“Nate. Where is Simon? Can I see him?”
The snake hybrid once again scratches the back of his head. “It’s already late.”
“Please. I need to know he’s okay. I came all this way specifically for him.”
Nate looks at you for a long moment and whatever he sees in your expression makes him sigh and relent.
Your ribcage hurts from the violent beats of your heart as you follow Nate through the building. He leads you down so many turns that you’re sure you won’t find your way back on your own.
The fact that all the hallways look basically the same doesn’t help your orientation but all you think about is seeing Simon again. He’s probably mostly healed by now. Will he be excited to see you? After all he signed the agreement first.
Nate leads you down the corridor to a seeming dead end but when you get closer you see that there is actually a door at the end. You both stop before it and the snake hybrid gets his key card.
“Would you like me to go in first and make sure he’s calm?” He asks and you immediately shake your head.
“It will be fine.”
Nate presses his lips into a thin line but nods and unlocks the door. You wipe your palms on your pants the excitement of seeing him again almost overwhelming you. You’re here and he is here and everything will be fine.
The door opens and you step into the room. Simon’s on his feet at the other end and oh, he looks spectacular. You’ve been separated long enough that his health noticeably progressed during that time.
His ears perk forward and Nate slips into the room besides you, closing the door.
Seeing Simon standing on his own without any struggle fills you with relief and your eyes with tears. Physically he already looks so much better than you remember him and the joy of that realization almost makes you shake.
“It’s you.” He rumbles and you cannot restrain yourself anymore taking hasty steps in his direction. Giddy that he’s alive and on his feet and looks well. Everything will work out after all. You’ll take care of each other.
You realize your mistake too late, blinded by the happiness. Time seems to almost slow to a halt. For a moment Simon’s eyes widen, then his tail bristles and his ears press against his head, his lips peel back revealing his dangerous canines.
Your heart stops but you’re mere steps from him and before you can stop the malinois hybrid charges the last steps that separate you.
“No!” Nate shouts somewhere behind you but you barely hear it over the ringing in your ears.
Simon barrels into you, throwing you to the floor and your head cracks against the tiles making pain explode all over the back of it. Simon’s honey coloured eyes are narrowed in aggression and his growl rattles your bones. His big body presses you against the cold hard floor uncomfortably. Every bone aching from the fall.
His teeth flash and you barely have the time to throw up your arms, crossing them in front of you to shield your face and neck. His fangs sink into your forearm. The intensity of the pain almost makes you cry out and you grunt.
Your eyes widen as you look up at Simon’s expression, nose scrunched as he grinds his teeth deeper into your arm until you feel like he’ll break right through your bones. He’s growling like he wants to kill you. His broad shoulders block out the room behind him. All you can see is his vicious snarl and angry eyes.
For some reason it’s the trickle of blood running down to your elbow that catches your attention. How funny, you think, that your own blood can tickle you like this.
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pomefioredove · 3 months ago
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wait wait wait, your requests are open for noble bell for this weekend only? (if i got that right?!) sound perfect gimme 14 of em. anywhos if i did not getting the date wrong i have one! and if i i did please just let me shrivel up and die, thank you.
post college rollo and reader who live together as “roommates.” they’re 100% more than roommates and everyone can see it but them. rollo is probably some senator or something and insisted reader moves in with him cause he insists that since he’s making laws more just for magicless people there’s literally no where safer for them to be. just basically some domestic fluff with two people who act like they’re married and don’t even realize it. i personally think it would be way cuter to read from the perspective of a third party but if you’re willing to write this you can do it anyway anyhow and i’ll still be happy. thank you! <3
(if i got the weekend wrong i will absolutely die so please let me down gently, i am accoustic so i no no understand very basic things such as “this weekend” or “next saturday” if the day of the week is before a saturday)
oooh a bit of a future au... this is cute
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ and they were roommates
type of post: fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda written from a 3rd perspective
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Rollo Flamme's favoritism had never been a secret.
He might have been quiet, reserved, repressed beyond all reason, but there were some things even he couldn't hide behind his star-spotted handkerchief.
The very moment you arrived at Noble Bell College, you were his.
Rollo Flamme beheld you with a sort of reverence that could be called sacrilegious. That is to say, one had never seen idolatry until one had seen the way he looked at you, the way he touched you as if you were made out of porcelain, as if he could break you with an unclean hand and a breath.
His coldness and cordiality towards the others never changed.
For all your kindness, your smiles, your gentle touches upon his cheek that he would never have let anyone else give, you could not change him. And you did not try.
It was a tragedy in two parts.
Not that it mattered, of course. Not to you.
As far as you were concerned, the world began and end with each other. In a room full of people, mages and scholars and royalty, Rollo Flamme would still only look at you.
Nothing was confirmed. Your affection for one another was kept to lingering touches and burning glances across the long, morose hallways of Noble Bell.
If anyone had asked, and they certainly did, Rollo's handkerchief would come to sit over his mouth and he would remind them that gossip is unbecoming.
And to be decent, thank you.
Yet the rumors could never be smothered, and they lingered after Rollo's first graduation, and another, and to his seat on the Fleur City Council.
You lived with him.
You lived with him, in his family home.
And he would continue to deny anything romantic, giving the same excuse that he had since Noble Bell, that you simply had no one else to look after you, and it was his duty as a civil servant to see to your care.
Which was utter bullshit.
But, perhaps, bullshit that you both believed.
Outside of the council, it was rare to see him alone. When he went out, he went out with you. When he attended public events, you walked by his side. When he worked at home, you sat in his study, by the fireplace, as if you had always belonged there. With him.
Rollo would excuse himself from small talk and after-hour business like so:
"It's been lovely talking to you, Senator, but I'll be late for dinner,"
"Please, come by my office first thing tomorrow morning. I'm expected at home,"
"I'll have to be going, now. I have an excursion on the town tonight. With whom? Well, whom else?"
It became widely accepted, amongst his colleagues and the public, that Rollo Flamme was married. One might not have guessed, of course, from his cold demeanor, but rumors of the magicless alumni from Noble Bell that he so adored smoldered.
Rollo did not concern himself with the whispers or the knowing looks his colleagues gave each other, until a warm day in late March where a well-meaning secretary from another branch asked if he had any children.
"Children?" he had scoffed. "Why would you ask such a thing?"
The poor secretary looked like he had seen a ghost. "Well... you're married, aren't you?"
"Absolutely not. What gave you such an idea?"
And he seemed reluctant to answer.
Rollo had gone home that night with much on his mind. When you asked him if anything had happened at the council, he said "Nothing eventful".
To Rollo, who had lived in Fleur City, lonely yet not alone, for so many years without a kindling of friendship and not a thought on romance, he had never once questioned your relationship. You were his companion. His first, and last. That's all that matters.
Isn't it?
He could ask for nothing more than you. Your voice, your smile, your hands and warmth mingling with his. He was happy with you. Your friendship is enough for him.
Isn't it?
Despite what he tells himself, that night, when you sit close to him in front of the fire, reading a book he recommended simply because he recommended it, Rollo finds himself looking at you twice as much as usual.
He puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, and you stay there, as if you had always belonged there. With him.
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keikikait · 3 months ago
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ʟᴏꜱᴛ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
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check out my other rafe series here!
read the prequel series here!
pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20's)
word count: 4.9k
summary: rafe is late for your date at the island club
warnings: no smut but is suggestive (read at your own risk), handsy rafe, mild violence/fighting, whipped reader & whipped rafe, they go to a restaurant but i don't specify any kind of food, rafe is angry for like 3 seconds but not at reader, mean jj, use of the word 'whore', i don't think they've shown rafe's new place yet so i made one up, i haven't watched all of s4 so if i get shit wrong i'm sorry, not proofread
a note: this was supposed to be short. oops
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
You and Rafe had date nights every Friday.
It was the only sense of regularity that he had, and he wouldn’t miss it for the world. He would plan it, tell you when and where to be, and you would eagerly oblige. He surprised you with something new every week; one Friday you’re driving across the thoroughfare towards the mainland for a shopping spree, the next Friday you’re on a private yacht watching the sunset. This week, he decided to go for the tried and true; dinner and a movie.
‘6 PM’, he told you, ‘and wear that silk emerald green dress.’ He had to run out for the day, still dealing with the aftereffects of Ward’s death and his departure from Tanneyhill. Trying to sell a giant, 6-bedroom mansion wasn’t as easy as you thought, as most of the residents of Kildare couldn’t afford to buy it from him. He was considering turning it into an Air B&B, a project he would rope you into to help with the interior design. You and Rafe had a new place, another mansion still located in Figure Eight, although this one is much smaller, a Spanish revival you had a lovely time decorating. 
As the afternoon sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the landscape, you found yourself perched upon a solitary bench situated beside the parking lot of The Island Club, the salty tang of the ocean breeze carrying the distant sound of crashing waves. Couples filed into the club, paying you no mind. Even though The Island Club wasn’t far from your new place, Rafe still bought you an Uber, just to make sure you were safe. It was almost 6:15 PM at this point, and every call and text to Rafe went unanswered. You had already informed the staff of his late arrival, ensuring that your reservation would not get cancelled. You check your watch again before standing, walking around the parking lot to check the streets.
Where was he?
You tug your dress down your legs. It was Rafe’s favourite on you, hugging your ass and hips perfectly. It was finally starting to get cold on the island, and even though the black leather jacket you stole from him didn’t exactly go with your outfit, it was keeping you warm. The wind flows through your hair, and you push it out of your eyes, looking down the street, trying to spot him on his bike. You sigh, your shoulders dropping. You turn around to head back to the bench, pulling your phone out of your small purse, ready to call him again.
You’re about to sit down when you hear the revving and rumbling of his dirt bike, pulling into the left side of the parking lot. You sigh, putting your phone away as you walk over to him. You bite your lip when you see him wearing that grey blue waffle-weaved sweater that makes him look delicious. Rafe turns his bike off, pushing the kickstand down before getting off, reaching up to unbuckle the strap of his helmet.
“Hey, handsome.” You say, stepping off the curb and approaching him. You reach out, putting one of your hands on his bicep, fingers slightly digging into the muscle. Rafe pulls his helmet off, keeping it clutched in his hand. His eye and cheekbone were swollen, slightly yellow, and a cut underneath his brow bone marred his otherwise handsome face. The cut was deep, and blood was caked along its edges. It was clear that he had been in a fight, and he had not come out of it unscathed. He winced as you suddenly reach up to touch his cheekbone, a worried look on your face. “What the fuck? What happened?”
Rafe winces as you touch his cheek, pulling back from your touch. He wasn’t in the mood for your coddling. His jaw was clenched tight, his shoulders tense from the fight. He had no intention of telling you what happened, either. You never needed to know about the trouble he was in. He puts his helmet on the seat of his bike and grabs your waist, pulling you in front of him. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, trying his best to keep his voice level so that he didn’t snap at you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, not bothering to conceal the bruises and blood on his knuckles. Was it his or someone else’s, or both?
“Are you okay?” You ask, moving your hand off his bicep to rest on his waist. “Rafe, please tell me.”
His expression hardens as you continue to push. His fingers grip your waist almost painfully tight. “I said, don’t worry,” he repeats, his voice stern. He’d never talked to you like this, and you could hear the warning behind his words. His eyes stare down at you, intense and full of anger, although you’re not quite sure if it’s meant for you. “Let it go.”
You don’t push it, not wanting to anger him anymore. It was supposed to be a nice, relaxing night. You wrap your arms around his waist to pull him into a hug, laying your head on his chest. Rafe hesitates, surprised by the sudden display of affection, but then he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you in close. He buries his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, and for the first time that night, his shoulders finally drop, his whole body relaxing. He squeezes you tight to his chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head. 
He remains silent as he pulls away slightly, looking down at you. He keeps one arm wrapped around your waist, his hand gripping your side as his other hand flies to your neck. His grip is loose, but his thumb presses against your pulse — a small habit he picked up after he started dating you. In his own words, it’s a way to calm him down and to remind himself that you were safe.
Rafe sighs, pressing kisses to your forehead before leaning his against it, rubbing your pulse back and forth as it races under your skin. His voice is soft when he finally speaks, “I’m fine. Just ran into a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” You ask, rubbing your hand up and down his side.
“Nothing you need to be worrying about, sweetheart,” Rafe mumbles, still keeping his head pressed against yours. Rafe never used pet names with anyone else, but with you, it felt different. His eyes drift down to your lips, unable to resist. They were a faint shade of red, glossy and puffy from your bites, just as he liked them. “Just some shit with JJ and John B. I handled it.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips, the hand on your neck moving to cup your cheek. Even as he pulls away, he keeps your body pressed against him. “Let’s not let this ruin our night, alright?”
“Are you sure?” You ask, brushing your thumb across his abs. “We can go home and order in if you want. I don’t want you to feel compelled to go out tonight.”
“Baby, I’m fine,” he murmurs, his voice soft. He understood where you were coming from, but only you would ever try to get out of a very expensive date because you thought he was too tired. “I got reservations for a reason. I don’t plan on missing our date night just because of a little fight.” The hand on your waist moves to the small of your back, pressing your body closer to his. He’d planned out everything for tonight. A fancy meal, followed by a quiet movie night at your place, then ending the night with his face buried between your legs, your wrists bound to the headboard. He didn’t want to ruin a date night that both of you were looking forward to. 
You sigh, but don’t push it. You didn’t want to ruin the date with an argument. You grab his hand, careful not to brush across his shredded knuckles, before leading him towards the entrance. “If you change your mind, let me know.”
Rafe rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but smile a little bit at your persistence, thankful that you cared. He follows behind you, his strides matching yours. He winces a little bit when you grab his hand, his knuckles stinging from the fight, but he doesn’t dare let you know that. 
He holds the door open for you when you reach the entrance, waiting for you to go through before he follows behind, placing on hand on your lower back as you walk. His eyes drifted down to your ass, and he had to stop himself from reaching out and smacking it. Now that his father was dead, he had to try to keep the Cameron image clean and pristine at The Island Club. They weren’t fans of him to begin with.
You head through the small entrance, moving to wait in line for the hostess stand. The country club was pretty packed, a common occurrence for a Friday night. The couple in front of you were older, and the woman's eyes soften as she looked over her shoulder and spotted Rafe. 
He kept his hand on your lower back, not trying to hide the fact that you were both together. His eyes stayed locked with the older woman in front of you, not surprised to have already been discovered by one of the regulars. He could see the woman’s concern from a mile away, her expression shifting when she saw the scrapes and bruises on his face. Rafe sighed, his jaw clenching in annoyance. Even here, he couldn’t get away from his reputation. His hand started to rub small circles into your back, silently trying to soothe himself more than you.
The woman whispers to her husband before turning around again. “It’s Rafe, right?”
Rafe raises an eyebrow at the elderly woman, a hint of a scowl on his face as his eyes meet hers. He gives her a small nod, although he doesn’t feel like talking to a regular at The Island Club right now. He wanted nothing more than to spend the evening alone with you. “Yes, ma’am,” His response is short and brief. “That’s me.”
“I was a friend of your father,” The woman says. “We were business partners a few years ago. I’m sorry for your loss, Rafe. My condolences.” 
Rafe’s expression changes as soon as the woman mentions his father. He knew that most people from The Island Club had been friends with his old man and business partners with him. Hearing condolences for his father had become a regular part of his routine, but that didn’t mean he liked hearing about his father’s death every single time. His hand on your lower back tightens, pulling you a bit closer to him. He gives her a forced smile, trying his best to look polite. “Thank you, ma’am,” he responds, his voice stiff.
The woman smiles softly before turning back around, stepping forward towards the hostess stand. Rafe’s hands traveled from your hips to your lower back, pulling you closer to him. He was lost in reality, almost as if he didn’t want to admit to himself that his life was fundamentally changing. His father was dead, and his relationships with his remaining family were ruined. But he had you, and that’s all that matters to him right now.
You lean your head against his chest as you wait, hands wrapped around his bicep, rubbing it lightly with your thumb.
Rafe sighs as you lean against him, his hand on your lower back drifting down to cup your ass. He could only hope that the other patrons wouldn’t notice, although he didn’t really care that much. But that woman was going to tell everyone about how rough he looked tonight, and he knew that some people would have comments about that, too. Rafe lowers his head to speak in your ear, although his voice is quiet enough that only you could hear. “Can’t wait to get you home,” he murmurs.
"Yeah? You excited for me to get on my knees for you?" You ask. Just as Rafe had been thinking about you all day, you had been thinking about him. You couldn’t wait to sink to the floor in front of him, your hands eagerly unbuckling his slacks before letting him fuck your face. Your favourite part, though, was the way he gripped your hair and moaned as he cummed down your throat.
Rafe sighs, groaning low in his throat as your words go straight to his cock. He’d always loved it when you talked like this, even if you were in private or texting. He didn’t want you to talk to anyone else like that. You were his. “Mmm, I’m more excited to see your face when you ride me,” he mumbles, moving closer so that his mouth is right next to your ear, still careful to keep his voice low. He wanted to take you home right now, but he had been looking forward to this dinner all week, and he knew you were too.
The older couple in front of you step away, being led by the hostess to their table. You approach the stand, and you smooth out the front of your dress as you wait. Although Rafe was used to the rich life full of country clubs, cotillion and croquet, you weren’t. You wanted to make a good impression on the staff of The Island Club.
Rafe stands tall and proud as you both step up to the hostess stand, his arm still wrapped around your waist, his hand resting on the small of your back. He glances down at your dress, taking in every detail of your appearance. You looked absolutely stunning in that dress, and it was taking all of his self-control to not get hard right now. The way you anxiously chewed on your lip, the way your hair was shining in the ambient lighting of the country club, the way you wore the ‘Rafe’ name necklace he bought you…he loved everything about you. He tugged you closer, loving the way you put a hand on his stomach as you leaned against him. You both had matching gold rings, engraved with your anniversary, yours on your forefinger while his sat on his thumb. 
The hostess looks up to greet both of you. She glances down at the reservation book for just a moment before nodding, a polite smile on her face. “Mr. Cameron,” she says. “Your table is ready.” She gathers two menus before leading you through the dining room towards the more private, member’s only area of the country club.
Even though you had been dating Rafe for a while, almost a year, you were always surprised by his influence. He had everything he ever wanted at the tips of his fingers, and because you were dating him, you got those luxuries too; endless shopping trips, a house full of anything you could dream of. And a handsome boyfriend, of course.
As you walk behind the hostess, Rafe’s fingers intertwine with yours, holding your hand tight. He was aware of all the eyes on him, as you could hear the whispers and murmurs from their fellow patrons, knowing they were all aware of the fight with John B and JJ, and the rumors were probably already spreading like wildfire. The hostess leads you to a secluded corner with a single table set for two, two candlesticks illuminating the table with a warm glow. 
“Thank you,” Rafe mumbles to the hostess as his eyes drift towards the far corner of the room. He lets go of your hand with some reluctance, before holding the chair for you at the small booth. He was thankful for the secluded booth, knowing it was going to be easier to touch you under the table. Rafe slides in next to you, reaching over to grab your knee, stroking his thumb softly back and forth. He wanted to put his hand on your throat to feel your pulse again, but he didn’t think that the patrons and staff would like that.
You thank the hostess, setting your purse down in the empty space next to you. As the hostess walks away, Rafe’s hand slips under the skirt of your dress, grabbing onto your inner thigh and rubbing back and forth. His touch is featherlight, just the lightest graze of skin against skin, although he can feel all the heat from your skin. 
He picks up the menu from the table, pretending to scan the food while his hand caresses you. He leans in toward you, although his eyes are still scanning the menu. “Do you know what you want to eat, sweetheart?”
“You.” You say immediately, flipping the menu over to look at the other side.
Rafe can’t help but let out a slight chuckle at your immediate response, his hand on your thigh stopping for a moment. His eyes finally look up at you from the menu, an amused look on his face. “Mmm, not yet, baby, but you’ll get it later. Promise,” he grins, his eyes drifting back down to the menu as his hand starts to rub against you again. “And for the main course?”
You sigh, glancing over the options. You didn’t really love any of the dishes on the menu, but you weren’t opposed to eating any of them. Rafe wraps his large, warm hand around your inner thigh and squeezes, yanking you a bit closer. It’s a simple gesture, but it makes your head spin, your brain shutting down for a split second. You purse your lips as you read before looking away, shifting in your seat. “You pick.”
He can see the way your body reacts to his touch, and it satisfies him to know that he can still affect you like that. It just makes him more eager to get you back home tonight. His fingers press into your thigh when you move closer to him, but he quickly loosens his grip when the waiter comes up to your table. 
He finally decides what he wants for the main course, and he orders for the both of you. His hand slides down your thigh, finally withdrawing, although he places his palm flat against your skin, resting his hand just below the edge of your dress. You sip on your drink as you wait for your food, feeling Rafe’s hand travel up your thigh again, as if he couldn’t resist. After the waiter walks away, Rafe’s focus turns back towards you, and he glances around the room to make sure nobody was watching. Seeing as everyone around him seemed to be doing their best to ignore him, he felt comfortable enough to continue his touch. His hand moves from your thigh to your hip, pulling you closer to him. “I like this dress on you,” he murmurs, his eyes raking over your body.
“Thank you,” You say as his hands travel up higher. “You look really good, baby.” You reach out and place your hand on his bicep, squeezing it. You couldn’t resist. He always looked good, but something about the way he looked in that fucking blue sweater and grey slacks made you go crazy, wanting to put your hands all over him and your mouth on his cock.
He gives you a smirk as your hand wraps around his upper arm, and he leans back into his chair. Your praise always brought out the cocky, arrogant side of him, and he absolutely loved when you told him how good he looked. His ego always needed a boost. He flexes the muscle underneath your hand, and it ripples underneath his sweater. “Yeah? You like this, don’t you?” He grins.
You nod, your mouth going dry. It was so hard to concentrate, all you wanted to do was shut your brain off and let him take control for the night. He knows exactly what effect he was having on you, and he loved seeing the effect that he could have on your body just from a little flex. “You feeling needy, baby?” He mumbles, his fingers pressing against your panties, right over your clit. You suck in a breath, gripping his sleeve to try to ground yourself. You nod.
The smirk stays plastered on his face as his palm squeezes tightly on the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He can see the way your shoulders tensing, knowing that you were trying your best to keep yourself from writhing in your seat. “Soon, sweetheart. We just gotta get through dinner,” he mumbles, although he wanted nothing more than to take you home right now and ruin you, make you cum over and over until you cry.
The waiter approaches with your food, setting everything on the table. It snaps you back to reality, and you move your glass so he can put your plate in front of you. As the waiter sets the plates down, Rafe reluctantly pulls his hand away from you. His hand goes to pick up his fork, although the movement is absent-minded. His eyes stayed focused on you, and the only thing he could think about was getting you home and alone. Eventually, he forces his eyes away from you and to his food. His other hand moves behind your lower back, resting his palm flat against the exposed skin, his pinky finger playing with the waistband of your panties.
You struggle through dinner, your thighs pressed together. The food was delicious, and you and Rafe spent a good amount of time talking about your plans for Tanneyhill, all the while he was brushing his fingers along your inner thighs and your panties. He was doing it on purpose, trying to rile you up, and it was working. You eat as quickly as you can, snatching your purse and  dragging him out of the restaurant after paying and leaving a tip.
You rush towards his bike, and he can’t help but chuckle at how desperate you are. He spins you around, pulling you against his chest. “Relax, baby. We’ll be home soon.”
You whine. “I need it, Rafe.”
Your whine was like music to his ears. His hand goes to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. His eyes are dark with lust as he looks down at you. “You’ll get it.” He says, grabbing his helmet and pushing it over your head. He secures the strap under your chin, kissing your nose. He climbs onto the bike, pushing the kickstand up.
“Do you have a helmet?” You ask, fiddling with it. It was definitely too big for your head.
“Nah,” He says, looking at you over your shoulder as you climb on, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I don’t need one, baby. I’m a professional. It’ll be fine, just hold on tight.”
“Rafe,” You say, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. “Are you sure?”
Rafe sighs as he places his hands on the handlebars, hearing the tone of worry in your voice. “Sweetheart, I swear, it’ll be fine. The house isn’t far,” he sighs, shaking his head and starting the engine. “I’ll go slow, okay? Just hold on tight and don’t let go. You’ll be fine, baby, I promise.”
You have no choice but to listen to him, tightening your grip around him, your purse squished between his back and your chest. “Okay.”
He nods slightly before reaching down to grab your thighs, pulling your body to fully press against his. He wants to be able to feel your skin against his. He doesn’t say anything else as he starts to drive, slowly making his way out of the parking lot. He had been through worse. He could handle a simple drive home without a helmet.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
You pull up into the driveway of your house, safe and sound. You wait for Rafe to pop the kickstand down and turn the bike off before standing, putting your purse back on your shoulder. You reach up, unclipping the helmet before pulling it off, shaking your hair out.
Rafe climbs off of the bike, gently letting go of the handles just in case it came tumbling. He bites his lip before reaching out, grabbing your waist and pulling you to him, his other hand immediately coming up to cup your neck. “You were worried for nothing, baby,” he murmurs, gently pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back, your hands flying to his waist, lost in the feeling of his tongue on yours.
“‘Bout time y’all showed up.”
You and Rafe pull away, glancing down your driveway.
JJ and John B hop out of JJ’s van, parked right against the curb.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You ask, your hands dropping from their spot on Rafe’s stomach. Rafe’s grip on you tightens, feeling you pull away. His eyes are narrowed as he looks at JJ and John B as they approach the two of you.
“What, you two on a date? Couldn’t even invite us?!” JJ laughs, his hands shoved into his pockets. You thought that Rafe looked awful, but it’s clear that he had the upper hand during his fight with JJ and John B. JJ looks terrible, his eye bruised and almost swollen shut, the side of his face scratched up like he fell onto gravel. John B has a split lip and a deep purple bruise on his eyebrow, his knuckles caked with dried blood.
“Wow, JJ. You look like shit,” You say, unable to hold back. “You already got your ass beat, are you back for more?”
JJ glares at you, his hands tightening into fists in his pockets. “Careful where you run your mouth, slut,” he growls, taking a step towards you. 
That’s all it takes to piss Rafe off.  “Watch your mouth,” he growls. He steps in front of you, blocking JJ’s path.
You just laugh, unable to take him seriously. You push past Rafe, shoving your purse into his chest. “Excuse me?”
JJ stares directly at you, his expression turning into a scowl. “Careful, you don’t want to fall back into old habits. You’re just a little whore for all of the Pogues,” JJ growls, and John B puts a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to shut up, but it isn’t enough for JJ to back down. He takes another step forward, his eyes locked on you and your face.
Everything happens quickly after that.
Before you could say another word, Rafe is launching himself at JJ, grabbing the collar of his shirt and throwing him against the side of his van. JJ tries to land a punch, but Rafe’s faster. He just keeps landing punches, one after the other, not letting up for a second. John B. jumps on Rafe, trying to hold him back, but it isn’t enough.
You quickly rush over, grabbing the back of Rafe’s sweater, tugging him backwards. “Stop. They aren’t worth it, Rafe.” His fist is raised, and he turns to look at you, hearing the panic in your voice. He freezes when you call out to him, and John B. jumps off of his back. 
The air is tense, everything is still and dead silent. All you can hear are their heavy breaths, and John B is holding onto JJ, preventing him from attempting to start another fight.
“If either of you ever come back here,” You walk towards them, getting up in JJ's face. “I'll bury you.”
JJ doesn't back off, and he glares down at you, a cruel smirk on his face.  “You gonna do it yourself?” JJ stands up, still being held back by John B. “Sweet, helpless little thing like you? Or are you just gonna try and hide behind your boyfriend?” His eyes trail down your body as his smirk grows, his teeth stained with blood.
You consider hitting him. You really do. But you know that JJ wouldn’t be scared to hit you back, and you really didn’t want to ruin this dress.
You step back before spitting on him.
A mixture of fury and shock shoots through JJ’s whole body, his face grimacing. “You bitch, I’ll fucking—“ JJ snaps, and he starts to come at you. John B grabs onto him, holding him back, but he’s barely able to restrain JJ, trying to calm him down.
You turn around, walking away from him, back towards your house. “Take your little bitch ass back to The Cut.” 
“You little whore, did you forget where you came from? Did you forget who you used to whore yourself out to?” JJ says, still fighting against John B’s grip on him. “You’re gonna regret that someday, you hear me? Someday you’ll have no one to protect your pathetic little ass, and I’m gonna be there, laughing at you. Just watch.”
Rafe starts to walk towards JJ and John B again, but you wrap a hand around his forearm, pulling him back. “Baby, stop. He’s not worth it.” You look up at him, trying your best to get him to calm down. 
JJ finally stops trying to shake John B off, realizing that he isn’t going to be able to land a hit on you, no matter how badly he wants to. “You’re lucky you’re not with the Pogues anymore. I’d teach you some manners,” he calls after you.
You drag Rafe back inside as JJ and John B get back into JJ’s van, the tires screeching as they drive away.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)
if you would like to be tagged for any future parts (if i make them), please reply to this post!
part two is here!
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wangxianficfinder · 4 months ago
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In the mood for...
Oct 13th
~*~
1. hi i want to read fanfics in which lwj saves wwx and wens. thank you!
IF by Remma3760 (Not Rated, 94k, WangXian, QingJue, Aftermath of Violence, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Fix-It of Sorts, BAMF LWJ, Golden Core Reveal) LWJ immediately goes to the Jin camp, gets there first, & chooses to act to save the Wens
🔒 Sick Bed Reserved In Gusu Lan by scifigeek14 (T, 14k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Sick fic, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Golden Core Reveal, Fix-It) WWX & the Wens get sick & go to Gusu for help, & LWJ lets them in
~*~
2. Hello! Thank you for the amazing recs! Loving it! For the next In the mood for (hehehe I'm greedy), does anyone know any fics with Sect Leader Lan Zhan? Thank you! @lostandmessedup
🔒The Straightest Path by meyari (T, 30k, WangXian, NieLan, MingLi, ChengSang, war and death Grief/Mourning, Politics, plotting for neuroatypicals, Autistic LWJ, WWX Has ADHD, Non-Canon Relationship, I killed Lan Zhan's family, No Yīn Iron, Sect Leader LWJ)
golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not rated, 95k, slow burn, sugar daddy LWJ, light, angst, fluff, developing relationship, eventual smut, WIP)
Discarded by teawater (E, 187k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dying Lan children, Hurt/Comfort, YL WWX, Golden Core Reveal, Case Fic, Depression, Family Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, and it’s not always dark, POV Multiple, BAMF WWX, dubious morals in the Lan sect Feels, Pining, Grief, Fix-It, BAMF LWJ)
Temptation by Karmiya (E, 23k, WangXian, JYL & WWX, WIP, Sect Leader LWJ, domestic abuse)
~*~
3. ITMF a) video game crossovers and b) fics where the boys playing video games is a big part of the story. 🎮 (Side note if a Stardew AU doesn't exist yet, someone really needs to get on that) @linderel
No A/B/O / Omegaverse, thank you
3A)
🔒 Season of Resurrection by Pyrrti (G, 1k, WangXian, Sky: Children of the Light Fusion, POV Multiple, Pre-Relationship, Reunions, POV LSZ, POV LWJ, POV WWX)
To Let It Bloom by Broken_Synchronicity (T, 2k, WangXian, WWX & Everyone, WIP, Modern with Magic, Stardew Valley Fusion, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, WCZ & CSSR are still dead sorry, Family Bonding, WCZ & JFM are related, Farmer WWX, Librarian LWJ, Genius WWX, MXY Lives, Grief/Mourning, WWX is gonna solve world hunger or die trying, Slow Burn, Getting to Know Each Other, Tall WWX) Omg I can't believe I didn't pay attention to 3 because HEY I STARTED WRITING A STARDEW AU FIC NOT A WEEK BEFORE THIS POST 🤣
Yearning for a Star by The_Gourmet_Gamer (M, 18k, WangXian, WIP, Modern, Inspired by Stardew Valley, Omega Verse, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Misunderstandings, First Kiss, First Time, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Forbidden Love, Jealous LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Magic)
3B)
Dreams of Cultivation by mortuus_lingua (M, 97k, WangXian, XiCheng, SongXiao, Themes, LWJ Uses Actual Words, Nonbinary NHS, Nonbinary XXC, BAMF WQ, Modern AU, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Oblivious WWX, Protective JC, Cinnamon Roll WN, Developing Relationship)
5000 IQ hanguangjun gameplay scores him a boyfriend by orphan_account (Not rated, 5k, wangxian, streamer au, among us, getting together, identity reveal)
~*~
4. Hello, Itmf please 🤗
Want to read a scene where wq says to WY that jc won't be a good leader if lack of core breaks his will to leave. And blaming wy for lotus pier fall shows his lack of common sense and clear judgement. And maybe about choking and who will protect him afterwards? Like how can you trust this person as a leader and family member
Maybe about some ethics in wq.
Never Again by Hauntcats (T, 67k, WWX & WN & WQ, JC & WWX, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, Canon Divergence, Angst, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Dark, BAMF WWX, mentions of abuse, Not Everyone Dies au, XY doesn’t have a happy ending)
The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence)
Lay my body down by tawaen (M, 48k, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, wangxian, WWX & JYL, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Eventual WangXian, No Golden Core Transfer, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly, What if WWX saw the first siege of the burial mounds and said Nope to the war, OCs, OC point-of-view for one chapter for plot reasons) Bonus: a core transfer doesn't happen but Wen Ning helps Wei Ying see how poorly he's been treated by Jiang Cheng in the second chapter
~*~
5. Hellour! This is for the next imtf,
Any fics where lwj's personalities just like flips? Maybe he gets hit with a curse or a talisman and suddenly those repressed lonely teenage boy is out in the open. It can be post-canon or in the cloud recess arc i dont mind. Any au works. (but no wip please! Or any time travel fics)
beneath six layers of silk by darkredloveknot (enheduane) (E, 12k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Getting Together, Confessions, Curses, Embarrassment, Vulnerability, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Honesty, Communication, beneath six layers of silk by darkredloveknot [podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea) )
old wounds, like hidden ghosts by wordsonpage (T, 2k, WangXian, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Dark LWJ, but like accidentally, Angst and Feels, Happy Ending)
Rarely Pure and Never Simple by thunderwear (Not Rated, 3k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Truth Spells, Curses, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Post CQL, Getting Together)
The Meaning of Silence by The Silverfish (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish) (T, 14k, wangxian, Mind Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining)
~*~
6. Hello, I wonder if there is some fic where Nie Huaisang is sect leader for some time. And I don't mean post canon or post Mingjue's death. I mean mostly when Nie Mingjue is alive and well but Nie Huaisang was made to be acting sect leader for whatever reason or temporary reason.
Wandering Eyes (That Nie Mingjue will gouge out if he notices, Father, STOP) by AstaraelWeeps (M, 14k, 3zun, NHS & JGY, time travel, fix it, scheming)
~*~
7. Looking for fic that treat Jiang Cheng as the complex character he is - Lynchpin is a fave because he's not "all good" just doing his best after learning some hard lessons. More of that kind of story? Happy ending and of course no JC bashing. @kimboo-york
Jiang Cheng Friendly / Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation
❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, 🔒[PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)
The worth of a life with no regrets by SnowdropsAndDreams (Not Rated, 43k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Self-Indulgent, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Yúnmèng Siblings Feels, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Post-Canon Fix-It)
The crow, the owl and the dove by GoschateWabn (T, 39k, WIP, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Sunshot Campaign, JC Needs a Hug, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Dynamics, Fluff and Humor, Protective JC, BAMF JC, BAMF WWX, Sect Leader WWX, Canon Divergence, Oblivious WWX, JC is So Done, No Golden Core Transfer, JC Has No Golden Core)
Drowning in the Sun by Zelos (T, 8k, JC & WWX, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Transfer, Canon-Typical Violence, Brotherly Love, Sunshot Campaign, Family Dynamics, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, 🔒 [Podfic] Drowning in the Sun by flamingwell)
❤️ whipstitch by curiositykilled (M, 131k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Torture, WWX Lives, but basically no one else, Case Fic, Cultivation Sect Politics, Past Abuse, WWX Whump, YLLZ WWX, JL Needs a Hug, JL Tries, Yunmeng Bro Reconciliation, Past Character Death, Body Horror, Non-Consensual Body Modification, POV Alternating, Flashbacks, Eventual Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Suicide Attempt, PTSD, Depression, Not A Fix-It, Mouth Sewn Shut)
basically anything by Lise that has Jiang Cheng as a character but especially With Absolute Splendor by Lise (T, 43k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Wedding planning, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Complicated Relationships, Angst with a happy ending)
some good mistakes by Lise (T, 18k, WangXian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, Road Trips, (terrible road trips), Post-Canon, Rescue Missions, Hurt/Comfort, ish, Awkward Conversations, POV JC, JC & WWX Reconciliation, (ish they’re working on it), [Podfic] some good mistakes by kisahawklin)
Listen to the Ocean (Hear it Break) by TheQueen (T, 3k, ChengQing, JC & WWX, WQ & WN, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Character Study, Unreliable Narrator, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Angry Grape Boy hurts everyone around him and himself, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Family Dynamics)
From Yunmeng, Unsent by isozyme (T, 5k, JC & WWX, epistolary, angst, canonical character death, nightmares, canon compliant)
JC and WWX’s Get Along Sweater series by newamsterdam (T, 29k, JC & WWX, Trapped In A Closet, Cultivation as Plot Device, Reconciliation, Miscommunication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Novel Spoilers, Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Night Hunting, Ghosts, Action/Adventure, Brotherly Love, Complicated Relationships, Yunmeng Shuangjie)
~*~
8. For ITMF, I would like to read a post-canon fic where Jin Ling renounces his claim on the Sect Leadership of the Jin and instead becomes the Sect Heir for the Jiang. A focus on the politics and personal feelings/consequences at some point would be lovely. Preferably non-wangxian-centric and no JC bashing. Thanks! @jensownzoo
~*~
9. In the mood for fics where the juniors love WWX and he is a fun/good senior they love and look up to alot. Thank you! @stormblessed95
🔒❤️ Joy In the Midst of These Things Series by Glitterbombshell (T/G, 53k, WangXian, Angst with Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Teacher WWX, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff)
Glow by Quiet_crash (G, 2k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Junior Quartet, JC & WWX)
Linger in the Sun by etymologyplayground (T, 39k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Case Fic, Intimacy, Curses, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Romance, Sexual Tension, Scent Kink, WWX Loves To Teach, wangxian are married, Fluff, nonsexual intimacy, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Nonverbal Communication, this is HEAVY on the symbolism, Translation in Russian)
爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie (E, 68k, WangXian, Case Fic, Blood and Injury, Demons, Body Horror)
Proximity To Knowledge by ChilianXianzi (T, 7k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Married Wangxian, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Teacher WWX, Inventor WWX, And his research assistant Lan ducklings, LQR is not a good educator, the kids are alright, WWX did online learning before it was cool)
Trust by FlyingMachine1 (G, 8k, WWX & the Junior Ensemble, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, background wangxian, BAMF WWX, Humor)
your words upon my lips by uchiuchi (T, 17k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff, Curses, no sad times only good times, Canon Compliant, Romance, they are married!!, Let LWJ Say Fuck, Case Fic)
~*~
10. hi this is a itmf!!
hi fellow wangxian fic lovers at this point in the fandom i feel like ive read every good written wangxian fic out there im looking for any hidden gems you guys have im talking 10k hits beautiful plot or story anything that just immediately makes u kudos or bookmark it, it can be any au tags whatever im not picky i just ask for atleast over 10k words :))) @yesibest
i guess i'll have to change my plan by darjeelinh (E, 35k, WangXian, Modern, Meet-Cute, Falling In Love, Love at First Sight, First Kiss, First Time, Inspired by Before Sunrise (1995) and Before Sunset (2004), soft rom-com vibes, One Night Stands, but not really, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, they both have demi vibes in this fight me about it, Loss of Virginity, Misunderstandings, Separations, Reunions, wangxian canon Elopement™️ shenanigans, now with art) absolute love in first read
swallowing rocks, swallowing peach skins by AvoOwO (M, 24k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Angst, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ, Canon-Typical Violence, Drowning, Torture, Threats of Violence, Death Threats, Choking, Stabbing, Major Character Injury, POV LWJ, Smart LWJ, Smart WWX, Murder, Kidnapping, Gags, Protective LWJ, Pining LWJ, Drugs, Vomiting, Literal Sleeping Together, WWX Has PTSD, Food Issues, Sharing Clothes, Hair Brushing, Hair Braiding, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Soft WangXian, Angry WWX, Caretaking, Food as a Metaphor for Love, the mortifying idea of being known, Suicidal Thoughts, Angry LWJ)
who cares when you're gone by camellialice (M, 22k, WangXian, background SongXiao, Hades (Video Game) Fusion, Canon-Typical Levels of Self-Sacrifice, Canon-Typical Levels of Spitting Up Blood, Canon-Typical Levels of Pining)
‘Let’s go home.’ by Crowgirl (E, 27k, WangXian, Coffee Shops & Cafés, LQR's Excellent Parenting, Meet-Cute, First Kiss, First Time, First Meetings, Pining, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, Modern AU, Past XiYao, past emotional abuse, Past Emotional Manipulation)
Rebirth of a Wretched Mayfly by marikazz (M, 15k, WangXian, Time Loop, Time Travel, Groundhog Day, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Not Really Character Death, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Trust Issues, Hurt WWX, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Whump, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Okay, Mental Breakdown, Canon-Typical Violence, Existential Angst, Dissociation, Suicide, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, POV WWX)
🔒take me home (where i belong) by scarletwanlian (E, 153k, WangXian, Slice of Life, Modern, College/University, PTSD, Trauma, Dissociation, Music, Strangers to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Depression, Running, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Injury Recovery, mental recovery, Mental Health Issues, Non-Sexual Intimacy, AND sexual intimacy, Literal Sleeping Together, and sleeping together, First Time, ace characters, also aro characters, and aroace character, Families of Choice, Car Accidents, Found Family, Flashbacks, Nightmares, gore elements somewhat, descriptions can get a bit gorey at times, Eventual Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending, Healing, Character Study, Grief/Mourning, Survivor Guilt, Whump)
Who You Gonna Call? by Beltenebra (E, 15k, WangXian, Ghost Hunters, Modern with Magic, Minor ChengSong, Anal Sex, Paranormal Investigators, Mild Blood, Mild Horror, Ghosts, Demons, Fluff and Humor, Case Fic)
Légèreté by perkynurples (T, 65k, WangXian, Modern au, Horse riding, Swords as horses, Crack treated seriously, Friends to Lovers)
From the Ashes by mostlynonsense (travelingpsycho) (E, 83k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Found Family, Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, IN SPACE!, Space)
🔒我拿青春赌明天 / I’ll wager my youth against tomorrow by tombenough_and_continent (T, 37k, WangXian, Science Fiction, Historical, Time Travel, ...they're time-travelling enemy agents writing each other love letters, Purple Prose, Enemies to Lovers)
A Wish I Can't Stop Making by Tirielle (T, 51k, XuanLi, WangXian, Memory Loss, Slow Burn, Mystery, Secret Identity, Wishes, Magic, Canon, JYL Lives, JZX Lives, JGY Redemption, Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Hairpins as a metaphor for love, Idiots in Love)
transmuter by WithLoweredVoices (Not rated, 113k, wangxian, Modern with Magic, Magical Realism, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending)
Lovesong of the Square Root of Negative One by honeydrip (lmeden) (M, 55k, WangXian, JC & LWJ, JC & WWX, Modern, Blood and Gore, Elements of Horror, Elements of magical realism, Layered Narratives, A Story Within a Story, POV Multiple, Slow Burn, Not Everyone Dies)
Scapegoat by FinallyGotTheInvitation (E, 276k, WangXian, Modern, Trials, Lawyer LWJ, Defendant WWX, Courtroom Drama, False Accusations, Criminal Investigation, Threats of Violence, Death penalty, well not actually but there's threats of it, Hurt WWX, Protective LWJ, Childhood Trauma, Murder Mystery, Pining, Soft WangXian, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn-ish they have a trial to get through, Domestic Bliss, Happy Ending, Found Family, Bad Parent YZY, neutral JC, Good Sibling JYL, Neutral LXC, Bad Uncle LQR, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, POV Alternating, Pining while fucking, Belly Bulge, Gentle Sex, Smut, languid sex, Angst, Kissing, Neck Kissing, all other ways to say 'emotionally horny sex' ok, Eventual Smut, porn in chapter 15, Praise Kink, Homophobia, chapter specific TWs will be in top notes, Power Play, Power Imbalance, Wet Dream, porn in chapter 27, blowjob, slight breathplay, Size Kink, porn in chapter 29, Breeding Kink, sex wrestling, Tickling, WWX is a Brat, porn in chapter 30, Illustrations)
after hours by mellowflicker (E, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU Slice of Life, Age Difference, Older LWJ, Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch LWJ)
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11. I’m in the mood for fics with bodily possession. Just any fic where lwj or wwx are possessed or under control of someone or something. Thank you!
Mud on Your Feet by AvoOwO (Not Rated, 59k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Nightmares, Sentient Burial Mounds, Burial Mounds, Possession, Panic Attacks, Night Terrors, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Good Sibling JC, Hurt WWX, Soft WangXian, Feels, Blood and Injury, Hallucinations, Delusions, JC Loves WWX, Insomnia, Good Sibling WWX, Sleepwalking, Sleeptalking, LWJ just wants to sleep with his husband, Protective JC, WWX Sees Dead People, LJY pulls through, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses, PTSD, Post-Canon, YLLZ WWX, resentful energy, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Thirteen Years of WWX’s Death, WWX’s Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, WWX is tired, LWJ literally just wants to sleep with WWX again is that too much to ask for??, Soft JC, Yunmeng Siblings Feels) in this wwx IS possessed by smth, I can't say what cuz it's a spoiler, just mentioning that it is almost like possession even tho the summary doesnt seem like it :)) enjoy
in your skin by darkredloveknot (enheduane) (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, Horror, Body Horror, Blood and Gore, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Non-Consensual Body Modification, kinda??, Reflections over death and self-worth, mentions of canon suicide, Near Death Experiences, 🔒 [Podfic] in your skin by flamingwell)
old wounds, like hidden ghosts by wordsonpage (T, 2k, WangXian, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Dark LWJ, but like accidentally, Angst and Feels, Happy Ending) link in #5
Obedient and Bellicoseby thunderwear (T, 20k, Wangxian, Ella Enchanted AU, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, cursed LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good brother LXC, LQR loves his nephews you cant change my mind, LWJ crying, Protective LXC, Pining, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Brief Depictions of Violence, meaning at least one of the people you really want to get stabbed does in fact get stabbed)
The Meaning of Silence by The Silverfish (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish) (T, 14k, wangxian, Mind Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining) link in #5
🔒 between the shadow and the soul by Reverie (cl410) (M, 22k, WangXian, JYL/WQ, JC/NHS, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family, Dark WWX, Feral WWX, Memory Loss, Magic, Magical Realism, Protective LWJ, Protective JC, Protective JYL, Grief, BAMF WWX, POV Alternating)
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12. I'm asking for canon era fics with lots and lots of hugs between the juniors and Wei Ying. I don't care if the ducklings are grown ups or just little babies. Probably please both types. Just nothing below 40k please. @constellationdks
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13. Can you find me fics where cultivation sects gets punished for their unfairness. All sects gets punished not even Lan and Nie are left out.
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14. Hey, itmf for fic post Wei's supposed death scene where Lan Zhan is punished (those beatings from cql) and then spends his solitary confinement in the cold cave. I am mostly interested in fics with depressed Lan Zhan who refuses to speak to anyone and/or gives up on his duties afterwards and just wastes away in that cave (instead of whatever he was supposed to be doing during those three years). It can even have suicide attempt or running away attempt. Thank you.
A Life Without Regrets by naqaashi (M, 163k, WangXian, JFM & WWX, JC & WWX, WRH & WWX, LXC & LWJ, LQR & LWJ, LWJ & NHS, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Murder Husbands, PTSD, BAMF WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Genius WWX, Cultivation Theory, Sentient Burial Mounds, Dysfunctional Family, Grief/Mourning, Angry WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, BAMF LWJ, Angry LWJ, One-Braincell WangXian, Idiots in Love, Requited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, Soft WangXian, Married WangXian, Soulmates, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Immortal WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang friendly, not gusu lan friendly, Immortal LWJ) ARGH! I know I've read several fics that fit for 14 but cannot find them for the life of me! The only one I found that comes close is chapter 5 in A Life Without Regrets where Lan Wangji reflects on choosing to live for A-Yuan after his punishment in his first life (it's a time travel fic).
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15. hi! this is for itmf. do you perhaps know any fics that focus around lwj's insecurity or fear that he's becoming like his father or something of the like? :") thanks!
the year of drought by idrilka (E, 24k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Pining, Getting Together, Wedding Planning, Letters, Instructional Use of Gay Porn)
how do i forgive myself (for losing so much time) by thunderwear (M, 26k, WangXian, Age Regression/De-Aging, Kid Fic, Accidental Baby Acquisition, of sorts, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Sharing a Bed, yunmeng bros reconciliation, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Pining, read end notes for warnings, Post-Canon) Lan Wangji's fears about being like his father are also a small part at the end
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16. Hello! For the next ITMF does anyone knows fics where Wangxian adopts Lan Jingyi? @lostandmessedup
if i had the strength by agloeian (M, 16k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Fix-It, somewhat of a case fic, Heaven Official’s Blessing inspired gods & ghosts, No Spoilers for Heaven Official’s Blessing, Mild Alcohol Abuse, Mental Health Issues, WWX is not in a great place for a lot of this fic, He Gets Better Though!, this fic is all about learning to give yourself the help you give others tbh, Baby LJY, recovery fic, Accidental Baby Acquisition)
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17. For ITMF, I'm interested in what people's favorite Lan Jingyi-centric fics are. Doesn't have to be from his POV, but he should be the focus. Any ships or no ships are fine. Thanks! @jensownzoo
anyway, here’s wuji by kakikaeru (T, 18k, ZhuiYi, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence)
Important Distinctions by nagi_blue (T, 5k, gen, Fluff and Crack, [Podfic] Important Distinctions by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona)
you are my chosen family by jinyinhua (T, 14k, LSZ & LJY, wangxian, LJY & LSZ & LWJ & WWX, 5+1 Things, Good Kid LJY, Good Kid LSZ, Blood and Injury, Night Hunts, Drinking, Age Regression/De-Aging, Married Wangxian, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Gūsū Lán Juniors Dynamics)
Why Not Me? by Eleanor_Fenyx (G, 26k, LJY & LQR, LQR & LWJ, LJY & LSZ, LJY & LWJ, good uncle LQR, LJY pov, war orphan LJY, character study, LJY has ADHD, found family, rejection sensitivity dysphoria)
❤️ The One-Body Problem by metisket (T, 29k, LJY & WWX, LJY & LSZ, wangxian, possession, cohabitation, Podfic by SeaNoodle) LJY gets possessed by the Yiling Patriarch
The Special Hell by MedeaWasRight (E, 73k, JC/LJY, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief, implied eating disorder, Implied Bulimia, Vomiting, Drowning, JC runs a water park, Developing Relationship, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Sibling Rivalry, Mourning, LJY is the best Lan, peril in water, Reconciliation, Hospitals, physical assault, references to children in hospital) For a Jingyi-important fic, modern au, try this one from MedeaWasRight. It’s a 2nd part of a series, but it can be read as a standalone.
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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***
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petpenname · 11 months ago
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❣️Red Wine Supernova❣️
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pairing: dealer!ellie williams x introverted(f)reader c.w: weed smoking, insinuated self-pleasure Summary: modern college au, dealer!ellie x introverted!(f)reader, slow burn with some sad elements. Inspired by Red Wine Supernova by Chapel Roan Parts: 1. I Just Want To Get To Know You 2. Mini Skirt and My Go-Go Boots 3. I Don't Care That You're A Stoner + Epilogue: Falling Into Me a/n: new writer so be nice >:3 sry if the format is a lil fucked
Part One:
I Just Want To Get To Know You
Mornings are your happy place. Your room is your sanctuary, and you greet the day in your usual fashion. Floating around your space listening to music, doing your skincare and makeup, and finding the perfect outfit. This morning, however, was anything short of paradise. Today was the last day of finals week and all the studying and stress got the best of you last night as you completely burnt out of all your routines. You push the empty chip bags and energy drinks aside on your nightstand to make some room for your phone, which is dead. How could you forget to plug it in? 
Opting to check the time on your computer you realize you overslept. There's only twenty minutes to don an outfit before you head to your first exam of the day. You curse yourself first then promise to have a full self care evening after finals are finished. Tossing on some leggings and an oversized hoodie equipped with the Jackson College logo. You do a quick wash of our face, minimal skin care, grab your phone, bag and shoes and you are out the door. 
Thankfully, living a block from campus has its pros. You fast walk the block to campus and b-line for the cafe. Popping in and getting into the short line hoping to see someone who knows your order working. You let out a sigh of relief when you see Sasha working the cash register. 
The barista greeted you, “Morning Y/N! Happy end of finals week!” 
“Morning Sasha, I can’t wait for this week to be over. I'm in a rush this morning so I'll just do my coffee, no pastry please.”
“Sure thing babe” she starts writing in your order, “it'll be out in just a minute.”
You pay and wish each other luck finishing exams. Retiring to a stool on the side of the pickup area, you put your headphones in to try and reclaim some peace in your morning. After a full song plays you glance at the time and realize you have been here for a few minutes too long. Behind the barista station, you see a brown-haired girl facing the back counter. She's moving around like she doesn't know what she's doing and Sasha is watching from the side making small comments. You assume it's a new hire so you wait the extra minute for her to finish with your drink -praying that she doesn't fuck it up and ruin another part of your morning. You zone out to your music again and before you know it you hear your order being called out:  “Medium mocha with half chocolate for.. y/n?” 
You look up and almost choke on your breath as your eyes meet pools of emerald green. Light whips of auburn fly around a flushed face, dotted with freckles. You stumble off the stool and brush fingers with the girl as you grab your coffee, not wanting to take your eyes off her. 
“Sorry it took a minute Y/N, Ellie here is training today” Sasha pipes in from behind. The girl smiles sheepishly as your eyes snap away and focus on the coffee in hand. When did you grab this? 
“Oh, yeah, no problem, thank you!.” you say, trying to recollect yourself. “I’ll see you later Sasha!” 
Heading out the door, the cool air whips the interaction out of your mind, as your only focus now is making it through the rest of the finals day.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
5pm finally rolls around and you let out a sigh as the fresh air hits you while leaving the lecture building. You pull out your phone to check for messages and play some music on your walk back.
You have (7) unread messages:
*H03 Hoes* Olivia: Anyone up for dinner and a movie? I need to dissociate after  this week o.o Ivy: yes I'm there but only if we can get Red Mill Phoebe: I'll be at Daniels tonight :)  Olivia: we know pheebs lol have fun love birds Sage: if we are getting Red Mill im gettin high Ivy: Y/N!!!? Where are youuu?? Phoebe: :D
Staring at the screen you smile in relief, just what you need after a long day; your roommates out of the house, time for yourself. Your last two exams were harder than you expected and all you want to do is order takeout, put on a show, and take a bath. You gather your thoughts and text a response;
*H03 Hoes* Y/N: staying in girls, i need some TLCOlivia: i don't blame you, this week was fucked Ivy: Want us to bring you back a burger? Y/N: that's okay, i'm ordering Thai :) Sage: oh my god you really do need this night, i'm leaving you a joint Y/N: lol thanks sage Olivia: we'll be back by midnight! Have fun ;)
Your roommates were always understanding, you really couldn't have wished for a better housing placement. House 03 was one of ten houses that were off-campus communal housing. You moved into the house a month into your first semester at school. The rest of the girls had time to bond but welcomed you in like another sister. Your introverted tendencies sometimes made you feel like a shut-in as your roommates always had something to do or somewhere to be. Sage was probably the most understanding, she enjoyed staying in also & always shared her stash with you when she did. On the rare occasion you accepted, you and she got stoned and watched shitty TV and ate takeout. 
Finishing your response to the girls, you put on a playlist that you've been loving recently and put your phone away, looking up just in time to come face to face with another person. Bumping into each other you both stumble back in equal confusion.
“Ah fuck, shit, sorry!” says a honey sweet voice.
Y/N: “Oh fuck no im sorry! I was not paying attention” you take out your earbuds and catch your balance as you look up at who you collided with. Green eyes instantly meet yours. Swirls of auburn hair and freckles dance across her face as she smiles and laughs.
“Oh hey, didn't I make your coffee this morning?”
“My what?” you say in confusion.
“Your coffee! At the cafe, I was training this morning. You got like a mocha or something?” the girl rubs her temple trying to remember.
“oh! Oh yeah! That was you” you chuckle, stealing yourself away from her gaze. Holy shit, you completely forgot about this morning, how could you forget about such a pretty girl?
“That's me!" She says. "I'm Ellie, by the way.” She holds out a hand with a sideways smile.
“Im Y/N” shaking her hand, blushing a little.
Ellie: “So where are you in such a rush to, Y/N?” 
You laugh, “nowhere really, home. I'm so over this week.” 
“Same oh my god, I'm almost done with work I just have a drop off to do. Then I'm free!” 
Her goofy enthusiasm was infectious, you felt oddly comfortable with this girl.
“Oh, cool? I'm going that way” you point across and down the street towards the College neighborhood. 
“Me too! Walk together?” Ellie suggests
You nod and set off together. It was a short walk and for the first few steps, you were quiet. Everything happened so fast, the collision, the conversation, and now you're walking together?! That's no big deal, you're just walking together! You steal a glance at the girl beside you. Holy shit how long has she been staring at you? “I'm not even going to ask how your finals went if they were anything like mine!” Ellie laughs, scratching the back of her head  
You chuckle trying not to trip over your own feet, “yeah they were pretty difficult, i'm just glad they are over for now” 
There's not enough conversation to distract you from the growing ball of nerves in your stomach. You keep stealing small glances at the beautiful girl strolling alongside you with such ease and confidence. Before you know it you get to your house walkway, you turn to Ellie
“This is me, uh it was nice meeting you! And thanks for making my coffee” You are suddenly aware of how awkward you feel, trying not to make eye contact.
“Oh yeah no problem,” Ellie leans slightly to look behind you at the house, “you live here? Do you know Sage? I'm here to meet her.” Ellie says, pointing towards your house She's asking about your roommate? Something clicks when you realize you've seen this girl before, no you’ve heard her voice before. Whenever Sage stayed in she would call her dealer, who never came inside but Sage and her would talk on the porch for a bit during the deal.
“Are you Sage’s dealer?” you ask.
“Have you been smoking my shit?” Ellie laughs
“No I mean, sometimes I partake, but yeah Sage is my roommate, um come on up?” 
“Wicked” Ellie follows you up the path and steps and waits at the door as you call into the house.
“I'm home! Sage! You have a visitor!” 
“HI HOME! I'm Sage!” you hear from upstairs as the blonde girl comes bounding down the stairs. “Oh what's up Ellie, sorry you had to deal with her y/n” 
Ellie scoffs behind you, “yeah whatever, you can find a new dealer”
Sage laughs, “And buy from a dude? No way, I support woman-owned businesses. How much do I owe you?”
You bow out subtly during their conversation. Before the two girls make their exchange you are halfway up the stairs. Letting their conversation get muffled as you enter your bedroom. You don’t know why you seclude yourself so much. Social interactions can be so anxiety inducing for you and you were well past spent on interacting this week. 
Tossing your shoes and bag in the corner you collapse on the floor wrapping a blanket around you. Finally safe in your own space. It wasn't long before you heard footsteps coming up the stairs and Sage was knocking on your door.
“Hey babes, you doing okay?” 
You get up, blanket still wrapped around you and shuffle to the door, opening it slightly before leaning on the door frame, looking like a sad puppy.
“Oh y/n it was a long week huh? Well I'll be out of your hair soon. I just wanted to give you this.” she holds out a joint, which you now know came from Ellie.
“Thanks Sage, I might actually spark this tonight.” You smoked with Sage occasionally but never alone.
“It’ll help, light it in the bath! That's my favorite thing to do” Sage beams and hands over the joint, it was beautifully rolled, you almost didn't want to ruin it. She gives you a small squeeze on the arm and blows you a kiss before wishing you a good night and skipping towards her room to get ready for the evening. 
You shut the door and drop the blanket down, giving into a big stretch before locking into self care mode. This is where you really excel, you know the ins and outs of what creates an environment that lets you rest and recoup to the best of your abilities. And currently your room was in disarray from the late nights spent studying and dissociation. You put your headphones in and go to work. It takes half an album to clean up the mess from the previous week. You are feeling much better and continue on your self love ritual. Peaking your head out into the hallway you listen for any sound of your roommates. 
Silence, perfect, Olivia and Ivy must have come and left with Sage while you were cleaning. You pop your headphone back in and continue your groove downstairs to get something to drink and order your take out. While on the call your phone buzzes from a text, thinking nothing of it, it must be one of your roommates. You complete your order and finish up in the kitchen returning to your room for a much needed bath. All focus on yourself.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
It's nearly an hour later, you've drawn your bath and your take out has arrived. A shitty show you’re half paying attention to plays off your laptop, propped up on the laundry basket. You finish your last spring roll feeling a little bored and you grab your phone, figure you’d scroll some socials for a bit. Flicking on your screen you see you have a text from an unknown number. 
Unknown: “Do you always stay in on a friday night? ;)”
Your hear skips a beat. Your heart rate rises, confused and anxious who got your number? How do they know your home alone? Also this was an hour ago! You text back; Y/N: um, who is this?
You wait only a minute before you get a text back,
 “Ellie :)”
Relief sets in, not a creepy guy or stalker, thank god. Your phone buzzes again.
Ellie: “Gosh made you coffee and walked you home, am I that forgettable?”
You text back quickly, “no sorry, hey! I just didn’t know your number. How did you get mine?”
Ellie: “Sage gave it to me, I hope that's okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah that's cool!” you text back.
A little confused why Sage would give out your number without asking but your thoughts are interrupted by another text from Ellie:
“You didn't answer my question silly ;)”
You reread Ellie's first text. You do usually stay in, even on friday nights.
“Pretty much lol” you respond with another text, “I don’t really like parties”
“I feel that, good for business, bad for vibes lol” ellie responds
You stare at the screen, taken aback by how all of a sudden you are talking to this girl you hardly know for the second time today. Suddenly the bath is way too hot and wet, your laptop playing a little too loud. You close your phone, pause your show, and start to drain the tub. Rinsing off and finishing up your shower routine, you are standing at the vanity when your phone lights up catching your eye. It’s Ellie again,
“So would you like some company? I'm nearby actually” A glance at the time tells you it's 9pm, late for you, your only other plans for the night was to curl up in bed and continue your show until you fall asleep. You take a second to think about things as you put some clothes on, a soft pair of pajama bottoms, a tank top and a slouchy oversized sweater. Something in you was intrigued with this girl. It was strange for you to feel like you wanted to hang out with someone let alone someone you just met late at night. 
You pace for a minute thinking, am I really going to do this? Typing out the text and holding your breath before hitting send then chucking your phone on the bed and running to the mirror.
“Okay, why don't you come over?”
You inspect your appearance. Natural beauty, your skin care routine was spot on and truthfully you loved your look the most at night after you cared for yourself. You felt a rush of adrenaline and took a few breaths to calm yourself before sliding on a pair of slippers and grabbing your phone to go downstairs. Before leaving, the joint on your night stand catches your eye and it only seemed right to bring it along, Ellie did roll it.
On the way down the stairs, there's a knock at your door, that was fast. You peek out the window to be safe, Ellie standing with her back to the window facing away from the door. Hand scratching the back of her head, it looks like she's changed since you saw her last. You open the door and catch a whiff of pine and amber as she turns to face you, the same sideways smirk on her face from before. She's wearing all black, dirty Converse, ripped jeans, and a black jacket over a green hoodie.
“Hey, whoa cute fit” Ellie laughs as she looks you up and down, “cozy?”
You move a little at her comment, noticing how underdressed you are. “You caught me at the end of my shower” 
She chuckles again, “well I wasn't trying to take you out, was wondering if you wanted to smoke this with me?” Ellie pulls a joint from behind her ear, and holds it up between her pointer and middle finger.
Your nerves are going crazy but something in the way she looks at you makes you feel at ease in her presence. 
“Yeah sure, I have one of yours already actually” you say as you hold up the joint, it's a little crushed as you realize your hands were clenching. 
Ellie laughs, “you keep that one, we can smoke this one” she gives you that smile again. “Are we gonna stand on the porch all night?”
You snap into reality a bit and stumble over your words and yourself, letting her into the house. “no! Sorry, ya we can smoke in the back, we have some chairs out there.”
“Sweet, I'll follow you cutie” 
You turn away from the comment before Ellie could see your cheeks go up in flames. 
You lead her through the house to the back door and out into the small yard. There's a fire pit in the corner with a few lawn chairs around it. There's a light breeze in the air but it's rather temperate for a spring evening. You sit down in a chair and Ellie flops down next to you. Pulling out a lighter and joint. You watch as she puts the joint between her lips, lightly holding it with one hand and lighting with the other. Your eyes are locked on her while she inhales and the cherry goes red illuminating her soft features. Only when she exhales a cloud of smoke and looks at you do you look away quickly. Darting your gaze away to the joint held out in front of you. 
“Here ya go y/n” Ellie's voice is low and gravely, cutting through the silence of the night. 
You swallow and take the joint, breathing out preparing yourself for the hit. You can feel Ellie's eyes on you as you inhale, hold for a second too long, and exhale out in coughs, covering your face and shoving the joint in Ellies direction. “Shit, hahah, I don't smoke that often.” you get out
“Oh! That's okay, you don’t have to if you don’t want it!” Ellie takes another drag, hesitating to pass it back your way.
“No, no it's okay, the first hit is always the roughest,” you say through your coughing fit. “I usually smoke with Sage.” 
Taking another drag and speaking as smoke billows out past her lips, “Okaaay you can tap out at any time light weight” She chuckles at the end of her sentence but reaches the joint back out to you. You take it, needing another hit to settle the growing nerves in your stomach, she will not stop looking at you.
You and Ellie pass the joint back and forth a few rounds in easy silence. Only a few loud conversations and music from down the block fill the air. Ellie breaks the silence after a moment.
“So I know you said you don’t like parties but there's this one tomorrow night at my friend Jessie’s house, he lives in 09. My roommate Dina and I are going, you might like it?” 
Jessie… You've heard that name before, he was one of Daniel’s, Phoebe's boyfriend's roommates. A group of boys that live in House 09, down the street from you. You've actually been to their house for a party once before. It was fun for an hour until you Irish good-byed to go home and lay in bed. Texting your roommates of course, because girls always need to stay safe. Considering your roommates would be inviting you to this party as well you decide to accept Ellies invitation too.
“Oh yeah, my roommate Phoebe is dating Daniel who lives in 09, i'll probably be there for a little bit.”
Ellies face lights up, and she moves in a way that looks like she's trying to hide her excitement. “You will! Cool, I'll see you there then! Ah this thing is out.” She stubs out the cherry in the joint and tosses it into the fire pit. “Well I should let you get back to your evening princess, I have a few more drop offs to do tonight anyway.” She stands from her seat with a stretch  and holds her hand out for you to grab as you stand. Her jacket got pushed up a bit and you notice a dark image on her forearm, a tattoo? It's hard to tell in the dark. You grab her hand, making a mental note of how strong and soft they are before standing fully and stepping back.
“I'll walk you out then, uh thanks for smoking me out” Your mind is hazy and calm, you barely realize that your nerves are settled, you're comfortable. Ellie follows you back into the house and to the front door, you both pause at the open door, Ellie's eyes on yours, yours on your hands.
“So I'll see you tomorrow night?” Ellie breaks the silence, making you look up,suddenly the nerves are back.  
“Yeah, i'll see you around Ellie” you do your best to not shiver, and give her a smile.
The green eyed girl averts her gaze as she sheepishly scratches the back of her head. “Alrighty, have a good rest of your night!” She turns to leave but turns back, 
“oh yeah, it's a decade's party, so you gotta dress up”
She gives you stupid snap and finger guns and turns away, popping down the steps and into the night. You let the cool air wash over you as you watch her walk down the street. Noticing the flick of a lighter in the night as she goes out of sight. You close the door and nearly collapse against it as your stomach begins to flutter again. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.
You take your phone out as you run up to your room, texting your house group chat immediately.
*H03 Hoes* Y/N: “Sage, why'd you give my number to a stranger?? Also… is there a party tomorrow night at H09?”
It was a little while before you got a response from your roommates, their movie must have ended, it was now 11:30pm. You shoot up from your bed responding to your roommates;
*H03 Hoes* Sage: “Ellies, not a stranger! And she asked for it ;)” Olivia: “The Decades party yeah! We were going to ask you tomorrow if you wanted to go!” Y/N: “Well yeah not anymore, she kinda came by the house and smoked me out.” Ivy: “Yo what?!!! y/n hung out with a girl??” Y/N: Hey, I'm allowed to do stuff! Lol Sage: lolol we’ll be home in a little bit! We can get ready for the party tmrw together :D”
You lock your phone and look around the room, you realize you had been pacing for that whole conversation. Adrenaline going crazy, your mind flashing images of auburn hair and green eyes. You probably had 30 minutes left of alone time in the house so you decide to end your night right, how you usually do. Stealing yourself under your blankets, touching and pleasuring yourself until your breath relaxes you into sleep. However tonight, green eyes stare back at you in your mind.
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sparkrls · 11 months ago
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set a love alight
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MASTERLIST
part of the bandmates! harry x yn au
Summary: in which Y/N makes mistakes and Harry remind her she’s only human
Author’s Note: just needed some emotional Y/N with sweetheart Harry. remember to like and reblog because i crave validation. love ya <3
Word Count: 1.3k
•••
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Y/N cursed, pushing past the mess of wires and equipment backstage and pushing through the door of the emergency exit. The door swung open, slamming against the brick wall before clicking shut again.
Kicking at a small rock in the gravel, Y/N tried to release her fury. A choked sob escaped her raw throat, the burning reminding her of the fatal mistake she’d made that night.
Ambition had been her downfall. She’d let herself be overly confident in her abilities and had reached too high, her wings scorched by the sun.
Y/N fell to the ground. She didn’t bother to sit down gently, simply just letting her knees give out beneath her. She curled her knees up to her chest, hugging them and linking her hands together.
The hem of her skirt rode up, reaching her upper thigh. Usually, she might tug it down, but she was a bit too busy crying to even think about something so trivial like her skirt.
A pair of hands settled on her shoulders. Y/N was startled at the sudden touch. She could’ve sworn she was alone.
Eyeliner and makeup smudged from crying, Y/N looked up to find that Harry was crouched in front of her, his gaze soft and warm. She quickly tried to wipe her tears away, but he caught her wrists and pulled them down to her sides.
Harry’s voice was soft, barely a whisper, “Baby. It’s okay.” He was handling her like shattered glass, doing his best to not slit his hand while picking up the sharp fragments. “I’m here.”
Y/N didn’t like for people to see her cry. Not only was she an ugly crier, but she hated when people saw her so vulnerable. It felt wrong. And she didn’t cry often anyways. But when she did, it was messy and wild.
“I screwed up,” Y/N whispered, hating how her voice broke when she was barely audible. A pool of shame gathered in her stomach, weighing her down and suffocating her.
Harry sat down next to her, his arm wrapping around her shoulder. He leaned forward to meet her eyes. “Yeah. You did. And?”
“And?” She said, her voice raising a bit. “And I humiliated myself. I was so fucking bad.”
“You were nervous and you made a mistake,” Harry said steadily, his voice never raising. “It happens to the best of us.”
“I shouldn’t have taken that solo,” Y/N said with the shake of her head, another tear spilling against her will.
They had decided to perform their new song, ‘Set A Love Alight’. Y/N and Harry had written it just three weeks ago, and they decided to play it at this gig they’d booked at the bar they regularly played at, 17 Black.
After a long time of reluctance and hesitation, Y/N had decided to do the song as a solo. Up until now, Harry was always the one singing. Occasionally, Sarah or Mitch would sing a verse or two, but for the most part, Harry was the vocal powerhouse. Everyone liked it that way, everyone felt comfortable.
And Y/N had never dared to sing anything except backing vocals. And for the last few months, Harry had been trying to convince her to sing at least one verse of a song. He’d hyped her up, encouraging her to do so and telling her how amazing her voice was about a million times.
After a long time of pleading, Harry’d gotten what he wanted and more. Y/N took on the burden of an entire song. And tonight was not only the debut of the new song, but also of her voice.
Weeks of rehearsals had fallen down the drain when Y/N started singing and her voice came out shaky with nerves. Her hands were shaking and she didn’t hit the right chords on the guitar. And her lungs started constricting, making it hard for her to complete the lines without gasping for air. And all of this combined into the messiest performance the band had ever performed.
At the end of the song, Y/N was holding back tears and the small amount of people paying attention to the band clapped politely, but she heard the whispers of judgement. And when she turned to look at the band, the three of them were looking at her with pity in their eyes.
That was how she’d rushed off stage, thrusting her guitar into the hands of someone she passed by, possibly even a bystander just walking by. She didn’t even look at their face before walking out in tears.
“Love, you’re a good singer,” Harry said with a small sigh, caressing her cheek with his thumb. Her eyes fluttered shut. “You got nervous. It happens to everyone. You just have to learn how to control those nerves, that’s all.”
Y/N took a shaky breath, holding back a sob. “I made everyone look bad.”
Harry let out a small laugh. Y/N opened her eyes to glare at him. He rushed to say, “Baby, I wasn’t making fun of you, I swear. I just… I’ve made countless mistakes on stage. My voice has cracked, I’ve missed high notes, I’ve mixed up verses, I’ve sung off-key. But my mistakes don’t take away from my talent.” He pulled her forward to hug her. “Not to toot my own horn, but I’m a good singer. Because I was persistent and a hard worker. I didn’t give up even when I had moments where I sounded like shit and thought I had humiliated myself to a degree no other human being ever had.”
Y/N took a deep breath. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Which part?” Harry asked, curiously. He was ever as bright as always, but so soft and gentle. He was a sweetheart above anything else.
“Getting on stage and giving an amazing as fuck performance each time,” Y/N said. She shook her head. “You’re amazing, H.”
Harry shrugged. “It’s what I know how to do. I’ve done it my entire life. The same way you always play the guitar ‘amazing as fuck’.” He scrunched his nose up at her as he mocked her words. She let out a small chuckle. He smiled, pleased at himself. He always pulled a smile out of her. “It takes time and experience. I promise next time you get on stage to sing you’ll be better. Not perfect, just better. And someday, you won’t even remember tonight as anything more than just another story to tell and laugh at.”
Y/N pursed her lips, silent for a moment in thought. He was right. He always was.
Somehow, Harry always managed to make the tears seem like just another silly hurdle to jump over. The world seemed so much easier to face when he spoke about it so simply.
And with Harry holding her in his arms, who wouldn’t be ready to take on anything the universe threw her way?
Harry let out a small sigh, running his fingers through her hair. “You’ll be okay, love.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
Harry always took care of her with love. Not as if she were fractured sharp glass, but as if she were a bouquet of flowers you settled into a vase with care as to not let a single petal drop.
And Y/N wished she were as sweet as him. She wished she could be as good and pure as he was, to give him the affection he needed. The care he gave her was the kind he should be receiving.
“I love you,” Y/N whispered, starting off with something small to remind him of her love.
Harry smiled, as if she’d made some grand declaration of love and hung a star in the night sky for him. “I love you too.”
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lordsukunas · 1 year ago
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daycare worker? attendant?! nanami headcanons sorry this has actually been nibbling away at my brain... i'll shut up abt this au at some point. anyway, enjoy!
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daycare attendant! nanami whose fingers always smell like citrus after lunch because kugisaki has randomly deemed him her orange peeler.
daycare attendant! nanami who roleplays with the kids as a chivalrous knight during tea time. he sneaks glances at you from his cramped spot in the tiny chair, a foam sword resting on his thighs. when your gaze meets his and he sees the small, amused smirk on your lips, he swears his heart skips a beat or two.
daycare attendant! nanami who packs extra snacks for the kids. he has an entire list in his notes app of their preferences and allergies.
daycare attendant! nanami who, during nap time, listens to r&b (sade, micheal jackson, beyonce, h.e.r., ms. lauryn hill) while attempting to finish up a book he started weeks ago.
daycare attendant! nanami who walks you to your car every evening once all the kids are gone, even if his car is parked on the other side of the parking lot.
daycare attendant! nanami who notices you eyeing one of the pastries he brought from a small bakery. that same pastry is on your desk when you unlock your classroom the next morning.
daycare attendant! nanami who genuinely enjoys doing word searches with the kids, even if they're so easy it takes him less than five minutes.
daycare attendant! nanami who looks up whenever one of the kids calls your name. you don't even have to be in the room, and he'll still do it, hazel eyes searching for your radiant presence.
daycare attendant! nanami whose desktop wallpaper is a picture of kuantan, malaysia. when you ask him about it, he explains the reason calmly as always, but you can see the twinkle in his eyes and the smile threatening to spread across his features.
daycare attendant! nanami who is picky as hell about candles. if it stinks or is overly strong, he won't spare it a second glance. that's not to say he doesn't enjoy unconventional smells, though.
daycare attendant! nanami who only enjoys talking to you. he's cordial enough to his other coworkers, but something about how you smile at him or gesture animatedly with your hands while you speak or visit him during lunch, ready to tell him a story about something silly the kids did... it makes him a little more excited to come to work every day.
divider creds: hitobaby hai!! i'm back again lolsies. i can't tell if attendant or worker is a better word, but i think imma just call it attendant instead. also, ik i said that he wouldnt go back to jujutsu sorcery but like imagine him spending a lil extra time before work to exorcise any curses that get too close to the daycare... its not realistic bc its against the silly rules of jujutsu society or wtv but idgaf!!! nanamin loves them kids (and maybe u idk)<3
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bts-roses · 1 year ago
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Hopelessly Romantic
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summary - You used to say that a little romanticising never hurt anyone, turns out you were wrong. So wrong. (Unless...?)
pairing - Hoseok x reader
genre - university!au, fluff, a little angst, crushing & pining <3
word count - 7.4k
warnings - swearing :o, y/n goes through serious introspection, y/n goes through it
You always loved romance and love. You loved when your friend finally revealed his feelings to his crush after endless (and progressively annoying) pining for each other. You love when you see your regulars have their weekly Sunday date night at the restaurant you work at (you also love their tips). You love when couples share an umbrella when walking in the rain. Heck, you even love the socks with the tiny magnetic arms that when you stand next to someone with the same socks they hold hands! Like! Who cares if they are just inanimate socks? (They are holding hands!) You just love love!
Okay, so your friends/housemates might make fun of you for it. They might roll their eyes when you fawn over some minor interaction between two strangers in the street or when you dote on something slightly romantic that your professor said about his wife. Some of your friends may say you are overoptimistic. Or as Yoongi would call it: unrealistic.
But, you would argue that a little romanticising never hurt anyone! Can it be annoying sometimes? Yes! Do your friends have to mentally prepare themselves before confiding in you about anything to do with their romantic life? 100%! Can your romanticisation border on delusional? I mean, maybe sometimes? Or as Yoongi would say: all the time.
It's a little running joke in your friendship group that little Y/n is a little hopeless romantic who would even romanticise two street rats eating rotting food in a dumpster together (but also that is kind of cute, like they live in awful conditions but they still stay together?!).
So maybe that's why you keep your crush on a certain man in your class a secret. Or as you would say (then giggle and hide your face into your pillow), your secret.
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You would admit that the sole reason that gets you out of bed for your Monday 9am lecture is the fact you can spend an hour glancing at the most perfect side profile to ever bless planet earth (oh, and sometimes the cute stories your professor reveals about his wife).
After 5 months of this class, you have perfected the routine to get the most out of this one hour experience. First, you (struggle to) get up at 7am. Then, do all your business and get clean. Then, you agonisingly choose your best outfit that is both (a) comfortable for an annoyingly early lecture and (b) also cute so that when he looks over to you, he thinks woah this hot babe knocks it out the park every time with their insanely cool yet effortless look like woah I need to propose or whatever. Then, you (maybe too excitedly) stroll to your lecture and get there with (and this is very important) exactly 4 minutes before the lecture begins. This is because exactly 5 minutes before the lecture begins, a certain someone (cue you giggling and hiding your face) finds a seat in the lecture hall. And that means you can choose the optimal seating position to be able to have sneaky glances at the most beautiful face you have ever laid your eyes upon (in a not creepy way). The said optimal seating position is around 1 or 2 rows behind and a good ten seats on either side of him. Both effective and not suspicious at all.
If they knew, your friends would call you crazy. Or as Yoongi would say: this would actually be great evidentiary support for a restraining order. But you swear if they have ever seen this man, they would be doing the exact same thing. You would also argue that you are not the only one who does this! Two weeks ago you noticed that a girl, who sat 5 rows in front of you (so 3 rows in front of him), spent most of the lecture staring at the man and it was very obvious. Clearly, someone needs to get an optimal seating position! And just a month ago, after the man answered one of the professor's questions, a group of people let out a very audible tee-hee at how unbelievably attractive his face was.
And, my God, what a face.
It's otherworldly and beautiful. And that side profile? His perfect nose? His heart-shaped lips? His amazing jawline? His somehow always sparkly eyes? And his kissable cheekbones that protrude a bit more when he bursts out into the most bright and breath-taking smile? Stunning.
It's even more stunning when it's directed at you. Tee-hee.
Plot twist! You aren't one to brag (you are going to fully brag). But there have been a few instances where your glances are requited.
Now it's time to replay them in excruciating detail!
The first time it happened, you were mid-sentence in typing some notes on the lecture slides when you habitually glanced over to Mr. Beautiful man. But when you look up, you find yourself already caught in the depths of his gaze. You nearly choked on the air at the realisation that this man was looking at you with his sparkling eyes that seemed to hold a playful glint within them and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips. For a heartbeat, time seemed to still as you held his gaze, and in that fleeting moment, you swear you felt a connection, a spark that made you bashfully look back to the lecture slides.
Another time this happened was when your professor was talking about the story of how he wooed his wife (every time he saw her, he pretended to trip over something so she would always remember him). You couldn't help but to accidentally let out a laugh louder than the rest of the class. But before you could cringe at yourself for the way your chuckle echoed around the room, you found yourself locking eyes with him, whose smile widened as your eyes met. You felt a warmth spread through you, as if his smile was meant for only you, and you couldn't help but smile back as he turned his head back around to the professor.
Not only that, but (not bragging at all) you have spoken to him a good two times.
Plot twist again!
He actually definitely knows who you are!
It's time to recount these events in even more excruciating detail!
1.
The first time he spoke to you was in the second week of the semester and it was also the first time you ever noticed him. As everyone stood up to pack their bags, you noticed that the person in front of you had left his water bottle behind on his desk. Noting the back of the man already half-way down the stairs, you grab the metal bottle and try to dash out of the lecture hall, scanning the corridor for any sign of him. Finally spotting him nearly walking out of the building, you hurried to catch up to him. As he opened the door, you shouted an 'excuse me' to the man.
As if it was in slow motion, he turned around and you don't know if you were hallucinating, but you swear you were nearly swept off your feet (it may have been the strong wind that the opening door let in). That was the first time you were graced with the most beautiful face you have ever seen, as he looked at you surprised and confused with his soft-looking hair flowing with the breeze.
You stutter at the sight of him, briefly forgetting why you even chased after him in the first place.
"O-oh, you forgot your bottle." You bashfully state, lifting the bottle towards him.
You look up at him (sigh he's tall) and you actually feel your heart stop when his lips curve into the most heart warming smile.
"Wow, thanks a lot", he gratefully says, taking back his bottle, "I'm Hoseok, by the way."
Hoseok.
You mirror his smile and try to not turn red as you reply "Y/n."
"Nice to meet you! Thanks again." He coolly says before continuing on his way.
He leaves you windswept and heart-stricken in the middle of the doorway.
(You quickly break out of it when annoyed students try to squeeze and push past you taking up the whole exit).
2.
The second time you converse with the man was 3 months after. And after a few exchanged glances, you're confident in saying that your attraction to this man has exponentially grown to unfathomable amounts.
You can safely say that you think you have a serious crush on this man.
This man being Hoseok. Because that's his name and he told you himself (tee-hee).
When you arrive at the lecture hall, you are greeted with an unfamiliar sight: people waiting outside of the room. When you walk up, you see the familiar faces you regularly see standing around and you deduce that the room must be locked (sometimes security forgets to unlock the lecture halls in the morning). As you lean against the wall and look down at your phone, you are surprised by the sudden voice next to you.
"This feels so weird standing around."
You look up and unconsciously let a smitten smile smother your face at Hoseok (tee-hee <3) next to you. You let yourself gaze at his breath-taking face for a moment. You feel your heart start racing again, as you stumble over what words to say.
"Yeah definitely, I'm so used to just sitting down before the professor gets here."
He glances at you, surprised you replied. In that moment you realise: he was talking to himself. That's awkward.
"No, yeah, I like to prep myself before a 9am lecture. I'm just wondering, who schedules 9am lectures on a Monday?" He light-heartedly comments, offering you one of his sweet smiles.
"You and me both, Hoseok. I'm wondering the same thing", you shyly respond, your smitten smile slightly burning your cheeks. Omg this is the longest conversation you have had with him!
You watch as his brows furrowed in confusion and his perfectly shaped head tilt to the side a bit. He lets out a bashful smile.
"Sorry, have we met before?" He lets out an embarrassed laugh and continues when you mirror his confusion, "You know my name?"
Oh...
You feel your heart sink a bit (a lot) and your lips move into a self-conscious smile. He doesn't remember you.
"Oh... Yeah we met briefly before." You look down, trying to cover your disappointment, "It was like at the beginning of the year so..."
You're surprised you can hear the sounds of people shuffling to move into the now unlocked lecture hall over the volume of how embarrassing this situation was. You both slowly trail behind the rest of the class into the room.
"Right, sorry, sometimes my memory is not the best!" Hoseok quickly reassures you, his tone devoid of any awkwardness, "What was your name again?"
It should be embarrassing at how quickly your mood elevated under his interest in knowing your name.
"I'm Y/n", you beam.
"Y/n", Hoseok says, more to himself, "I promise I won't forget next time".
He gives you another smile and a playful poke to your cheek, which makes you feel like the only one in the room, as he strides up to claim an empty seat. You feel yourself float up to your OSP (optimal seating position), unable to stop smiling from the brief exchange.
"I promise I won't forget next time"
Tee-hee, you have promises. And he touched your cheek! Tee-hee.
You spent the whole lecture divulging in the potential possibility that your crush might not be one-sided.
Tee-hee.
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So here you are, five months deep in being the strongest trooper in your secret infatuation with this stunning man. You can’t help but give yourself a mental pat on the back for successfully keeping your mouth shut about it.
The pat on the back becomes even more vigorous when you manage to maintain your composure every time you spot him around campus, which has strangely been frequently lately. Surprisingly, this increase in sightings had nothing to do with you and everything to do with Yoongi.
You’ve been on high alert around Yoongi ever since he casually mentioned that he had a crush on someone in his classes. However, knowing you and your nature, he refused to divulge any details, nevermind the identity of the crush. It stung a little (okay, maybe more than a little) when he brushed you off, but you totally get it. After all, out of everyone, Yoongi was never the one to entertain your romanticising shit and especially not your meddling ways. Yet, there were instances where you could work out the object of Yoongi’s affections:
When Yoongi, out of nowhere, wanted to start sitting outside for lunch, near a particular group of friends (even though he hates sitting too long in the sun).
When Yoongi insisted you accompany him to watch the musical theatre society's dance practice (even though he was the conductor and didn’t really need to be there).
When Yoongi dragged you along to the dance society's performances, under the guise of "oh, I like the music" (not that you're complaining because Hoseok is also a part of that society tee-hee).
The common factor?: Jimin.
You couldn't blame Yoongi: Jimin was undeniably a sight to behold. And he is so lovely! One time your bag got stuck in the library’s revolving doors and you spent a good 5 minutes panickedly running in circles before Jimin stopped the whole crowd to come rescue you <3 (you never really talk about it because the situation actually made you want to curl up and never see the sun again). And every time Yoongi tries (emphasis on tries) to casually talk about Jimin, a cute little blush paints your friend's face, which makes you <3. And every time you see Jimin's smile it makes you, and the rest of the population just <3. And every time Yoongi sees Jimin from afar, you swear you can see the hearts jump out of his eyes <3.
The man wasn’t exactly subtle.
You also should thank Yoongi (and the gods) as Jimin is friends with Hoseok, meaning every lunch you could discreetly sneak glances at him, his perfect smile, his contagious laugh, the way his whole body would light up as he animatedly recounted a funny story to his friends and-
Anyways, since you were constantly looking that way, you, being the ever-vigilant detective, also noticed that someone else was also sneaking peeks at someone. That someone sneaking peeks being Jimin and the someone receiving said glances being Yoongi. Hee-hee. Jimin totally has a crush on Yoongi. And Yoongi totally has a crush on Jimin. They both totally have a crush on each other!
Even though you tried your best to not meddle, you just couldn’t resist. Much to Yoongi’s annoyance, you proceeded to bombard your friend with retellings of every single occurrence that Jimin so much breathed in his way in, of course, excruciating detail. You insisted for your friend to ask him on a date or confess or do anything, but only if he wanted to, of course.
You only seized your pestering when Yoongi finally grumbles a quiet “fine”. You also decided to seize any teasing of the growing excited smile on his face.
And so, it was on the fateful Thursday before Valentine’s Day week (which was just the heart-shaped cherry on top) Yoongi shyly asked Jimin on a date… And he said yes.
:) 
Apparently the date went really, really well :) So well that since they had known each other for a while, Jimin thought it only fitting to ask Yoongi if they could be boyfriends :) To which your friend broke out in his signature gummy smile and said yes :) Yoongi got a Valentine’s :) Yoongi, Mr. Stop-being-annoying-with-love-Y/n, was about to be annoying with love :)
-
The weekend anticipation for Monday was nearly unbearable. Not only did it promise the chance to catch up with Yoongi and extract every detail about the date - how did Jimin pop the question, Yoongi’s response to the question, Jimin’s response to Yoongi’s response to the question, etc. - but there was also the added excitement of Yoongi suggesting that the two friend groups sit together. One friend group including you and one friendship group including Hoseok. Tee-hee.
But when the clock struck 7am, you woke up with an odd feeling.
Something had felt off the previous day too, almost as if the world shifted its axis. Firstly, when your regular couple arrived at the restaurant, only half of them sat down at their usual table. The man sat alone, tears streaming down his face as he ordered his usual sirloin steak, nearly choking up as he had to stop himself from ordering his partner’s usual vegan burger. Or should you say, ex-partner… Turns out they weren’t the happy couple you saw them to be, they were actually going through a divorce. Instead of going home at closing time, you found yourself awkwardly comforting the man (i.e., stiffly patting his shoulder) as he worryingly wailed loudly into the table while you tried to find a way to ethically and morally make him pay the bill (though, he did leave his most generous tip ever, but you guess it's likely because the bill was half its usual price). Your heart couldn’t help to ache as you saw him braving the rain without an umbrella, all by himself.
You would be lying if you said that the couple’s breakup didn’t affect you in any way, you couldn’t shake off the weird feeling it gave you. You swore, every time you served them, they were a couple madly in-love, did you really misread the whole situation?
As you walked through campus on your way to the lecture, you tried to not think about the couple and you tried to distract yourself from the strange feeling, reminding yourself of the excitement of today. Today was the day you could finally talk to Hoseok (cue you giggling and hiding your face). You could finally get to know him beyond what you see in the lectures, beyond the brief mentions about him in passing conversations with Yoongi, beyond his dance performances, beyond your fleeting exchanged glances. You finally will know Hoseok as a friend, or maybe something more (tee-hee). 
Just before you start to daydream (or as Yoongi would say: delude) about the potential conversations with Hoseok. You feel yourself still at the shattering sound beneath your feet. When you look down, you feel that odd feeling creep throughout your body; you accidentally crushed a pair of glasses on the ground. You don’t know why you remain staring at the broken lens (you also realise they are one of those expensive Ray Bans - yikes sorry to the owner). After you stood there for what felt like an eternity, it hit you why they look odd: they were rose-tinted glasses. 
You just broke a pair of rose-tinted glasses.
Huh.
The distraction caused you to arrive 2 minutes late for the lecture, having to sit on one of the only available seats right at the front of the lecture hall (no OSP today guys). Much to your sadness, this meant you were not able to sneak any glances at the man and his beautiful side profile. :(
Maybe it was the fact you didn’t have Hoseok to distract you or maybe it was the strange feeling that made you really listen to your professor without your usual optimistic bias. But you finally realise how lowkey (highkey) misogynistic your professor was about his wife.
“Now, as an example of positive reinforcement, I can’t help but talk about a perfect one from my own experiences. I’ve talked about my endless efforts to win my lovely wife over, the gestures, the flowers, the compliments. But now that I’ve won her heart, she associates me with all that lovey-dovey stuff so I don't need to do any of that anymore! Like, why bother doing anything extra when she’s already fulfilling her role and doing all my laundry? This type of conditioning gets you an endless supply of clean underwear! Or is that too problematic to say these days? Am I going to get cancelled?” Your professor laughs.
You feel your mouth gape in pure shock (and cringe), as your ears pick up the awkward and fake laughs throughout the lecture hall.
Huh. That wasn’t very romantic.
The professor continues on and leaves you with a sour taste in your mouth. That strange feeling intensifies throughout you for the rest of the hour and carries on until lunch.
As you joined the group of people, you took a seat and offered smiles in response to everyone’s greetings. You noticed Hoseok had not arrived yet, and you tried not to react when you heard Namjoon, one of Jimin’s friends, complaining about his professor holding Hoseok back. From the 15 minutes you spend sitting with them, you deduce that Jimin’s friends are really nice: Namjoon was particularly endearing and Taehyung was charmingly entertaining. If it weren’t for the strange feeling nagging at you, you’d be more talkative, but instead, you could only muster occasional contributions to the conversation.
Feeling a nudge from your friend Molly next to you, you turned to her as she quietly asked if you were okay, worried because of your unusual silence. You quickly offer an excuse about stress from your group presentation and she nods, not entirely convinced. You also feel a brief comforting squeeze from your other friend, Lia, beside you. However, they both know you well enough to know that they shouldn’t press anything further. You meekly look around the table and you notice Yoongi already looking at you, a hint of concern forming on his face. You tried to reassure him with a big smile to indicate you are perfectly fine, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. Curse your friends and their perceptiveness. But before he could press further, Jimin, being the angel that he is, distracts him with something funny on his phone, and you find yourself zoning out of the conversation.
“Well, I thought the movie was very good!” Taehyung argues.
“Of course you would think that movie was good, Tae,” Namjoon scoffs, “It was right up your hipster alley, a failed attempt at a romance movie disguised by some weird, unconventional filming techniques.”
Your attention snapped back when Taehyung gasped loudly.
“Failed attempt?” Taehyung repeats with disbelief, “I’ll have you know, that movie was the epitome of romance!”
“Tae, the most romantic thing about that movie was that it was caring enough to only put us through 1 hour of it,” Namjoon deadpans.
Chuckling spread around the table, leaving you a bit confused. You don’t even know what movie they’re talking about.
“Don’t talk about romance in front of Y/n guys” Lia teases, “We won’t hear the end of it, especially so close to Valentine’s day.”
Suddenly, all the attention is on you, your friends fondly looking at you, ready for your usual response. Normally, you’d play along and potentially bond with Taehyung over whatever movie this is. But instead, you stutter, unsure on how to respond.
“Well-” You start, before being interrupted.
“Oh my god, hey guys”, you hear from behind you, the voice slightly out of breath.
As everyone greets him back, you feel Lia, who was sitting next to you, shuffling to her left, making space for Hoseok to sit down. Next to you.
Instantly, the strange mood seems to dissipate into thin air. Omg he’s sitting next to you! Being a bit shy, you stay frozen, not turning around to look at the man. You feel yourself start to smile at the feeling of him next to you, and you nearly unconsciously moan at how good this man smells. Have some dignity Y/n, you think to yourself.
“Sorry I’m late, my meeting was supposed to be only 30 minutes but the professor went over an hour,” he laughs out, then looks towards his friend and his boyfriend, “I hope the in-law’s meeting is going well.”
Everyone around the table, including you, laughs, assuring him that it’s going well. You can’t help but let out a dreamy sigh - he’s so hot. Hoseok proceeds to go around to learn the names of the new faces, saying a nice to meet you to Lia, jokingly reintroducing himself to Yoongi (apparently they’re actually friends), and then mentioning to Molly that he is pretty sure they are in the same assignment group for one of his classes. Your face breaks out in a smile with how well he gets on with everyone. He is just so bright and sociable, you can’t help but feel your heart warm at the thought.
Finally, you muster the courage to turn towards him, intending to break the ice with the weird comment your professor said in the morning lecture but Hoseok starts before you.
He starts with the same gut-wrenchingly gorgeous smile,
“And what’s your name?”
Oh…
You feel yourself speechless at the question, colour draining in your face. If this was any other day and if this was anyone else, you would tease saying you’ve met before, joke about him already asking that question, maybe even fake hurt and dramatically ask if you were really that forgettable. But it did hurt, and you don’t feel like you have it in you to embarrass yourself, so instead you introduce yourself again.
For the third time.
“I’m Y/n”, you reply with a tense smile.
“Well it’s really nice to meet you!” He beams.
Throughout the entire lunch, silence envelops you like a suffocating blanket, muffling the chatter around you. All your senses are surrounded by Hoseok, yet he doesn’t even seem to notice you. You watch him interact effortlessly with others, his eyes light up with warmth and his smiles so familiar, you once believed they were reserved solely for you. But now, you realise those looks and smiles are merely part of his default demeanour, unfairly extended to everyone without second thought. The realisation cuts straight through you.
It’s not that he intentionally excludes you; he offers small nods and fleeting smiles of acknowledgements when your eyes meet. He just doesn’t fully register your presence or, better put, is interested in your presence more than he’s interested in anyone else. You don’t know what’s worse. Either way, the pang of insignificance hurts you deep as you sit there feeling like an idiot.
Meanwhile, your friends are engrossed in getting to know everyone else, and for the first time, you don’t bother deciphering the subtle exchanges between Molly and Taehyung, or analyse how well they bounce off each other, jokingly debating about something. Instead, you feel a bit irked by the sight of Jimin and Yoongi being so shyly cute with each other.
And it’s when Lia’s friendly tease prompts Hoseok to playfully poke her cheek, just like he did with you, you quietly stand up, wanting nothing more but to leave. The table suddenly grows quiet, your feigned excuse about seeing your professor being the only thing that is heard. After giving your friends a pointed look that says ‘please don’t follow me’, you pack your uneaten lunch and make a hasty exit, ignoring the worried gazes of your friends.
The truth hits you like a bus - he didn’t even know who you were. He treats everyone with the same warmth and friendliness, all those supposed shared moments weren’t special at all. You just convinced yourself they were, romanticising all those supposed connections to mean something. Did your brain really deluded you into thinking your foolish crush on him was actually requited?
Perhaps Yoongi was right about you. Unrealistic. Delusional. Now that you think about it, probably needs to be served with a restraining order. You didn’t just imagine that Hoseok was interested in you too but you also imagined that he actually knew who you were.
You feel like a fool.
As you fight back tears from spilling from your eyes, you trudge home, neglecting your next lecture. You’ll catch up on it later.
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As you quietly slip away, a concerned silence settles over the group. Your friends exchange glances, each wondering if anyone knows what might be troubling you.
“Is she okay?” Namjoon breaks the silence, his brows furrowing with genuine concern as the group’s gaze follows your retreating figure.
“I actually don’t know…” Molly answers, her voice laced with worry, “She was so quiet. She said something earlier about a presentation but I know she doesn’t have anything like that coming up, so…”
“Shit, I should’ve said something earlier”, Yoongi mumbles with a loud sigh, reaching for his phone to send a message in your group chat.
Are you okay? Are you going back to the house? We’ll come meet you - yoongi
“We should go check on her.” Lia suggests, already rising from her seat, with Molly and Yoongi following suit.
Just then, the group’s phones all ping. Yoongi instantly reads the notification
I’m fine! I just have a headache :( - y/n
Don’t you dare move away from that table, Yoongi. You guys better have fun for me! I’ll see you guys at the house! - y/n
With a small scoff, Yoongi is about to ignore your pleas and continue to pack his things but then the phone pings again.
Please don’t come meet me - y/n
As Yoongi reads your last message, he sits down with a dejected sigh, everyone watching him curiously. The other two pull their phones out to read the messages, also sitting back down.
“I think she just wants to be alone.�� Yoongi clarifies.
“Are you guys sure?” Jimin cautiously asks, “We don’t mind if you guys have to go.” 
The other three men agree with Jimin, their concerns evident. Reluctantly, Yoongi shakes his head and assures the group that they don’t need to leave, mentioning that he’ll talk to you later at the house. Silence descends on the table once more.
“I hope everything’s alright,” Jimin voices, “maybe something happened during her classes?”
“No, she only had that intro to psych lecture this morning and she always mentions how that’s pretty chill,” Molly dismisses, looking down deep in thought.
“Oh, I’m in that class” Hoseok suddenly interjects, drawing everyone’s attention, “I didn’t notice anything unusual.”
“Yeah, I forgot you’re in that class” Yoongi remarks, “I’m surprised you haven’t run into her.”
Hoseok nods silently. Suddenly, realisation dawns on him. He knew you looked familiar - you’ve literally spoken before. He guesses he didn’t remember cause it was a long time ago, and he never sees you in the lecture hall. Perhaps you always sit in the back? Now guilt weighs on him, remembering your face earlier. Your eyes lit up in familiarity and a cute smile grew on your face, until he asked for your name. Then you looked embarrassed, your eyes slightly dimming. He didn’t recognise you. Hoseok falls silent, consumed by his thoughts.
“Well,” Jimin starts, trying to steer the conversation in a more positive direction, “I hope she’s okay! You always talk about Y/n so I can’t wait to get to know her.”
Yoongi smiles warmly at Jimin, appreciating the attempt to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, Yoongi talks about how endearing Y/n is,” Jimin continues, addressing his friends, “I actually met her once before! I think she got stuck in the library doors, and I helped her out. I was so surprised because most people would be really embarrassed but she was so grateful and optimistic. It really threw me off guard. No idea why she would be friends with you, Yoongi”
The conversation shifts and the table bursts out in laughter as Yoongi rolls his eyes playfully. 
“No, really, sometimes she’s the complete opposite of you, Yoons,” Lia adds with excitement, “I literally remember when Molly was ordering our drinks and started to argue with one of the guys at the bar, so we were gonna go over and help her. But, Y/n stopped us, insisting that they were clearly just flirting. Then, Yoongi and Y/n started bickering about whether or not they were about to fight or kiss. Then all of a sudden we heard a scream and realised Molly threw her drink on him and they started to fight.”
“I’ll never forget Y/n’s face,” Yoongi heartedly laughs, reminiscing the incident, “I’ve never seen her more mortified.”
Everyone joins in the laughter. Hoseok looks around, noting how just the thought of you brightens your friend’s faces.
“Oh my God, that day got us banned from that place!,” Molly added, “I swear, she can romanticise anything.”
“Sounds like Taehyung with that atrocious ‘romance’ movie”, Namjoon jokes, earning a playful jab from the man.
“That’s it, someone bring Y/n back. I need someone to back me up on this”, Taehyung jokingly whines, eliciting more laughter, “I’ll force her to be my new movie buddy.”
“As long as it’s a romance movie, she won’t need much convincing”, Lia adds.
“With the movies Tae enjoys, we can only pray for her”, Namjoon sarcastically comments, dodging another hit from Taehyung.
“Well, Y/n finds joy and beauty in most things,” Yoongi starts, his eyes softening as he reflects on your unique perspective “I’m jealous of her, she can find love in anything and everything.”
The table falls into momentary silences, Yoongi’s words hanging in the air. Hoseok’s gaze flickers with intrigue as he processes the sentiment. His perception of you subtly shifts when Lia, with a mischievous grin, adds,
"Well, she loves love".
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So you have actually decided you hate love.
Upon arriving home, you collapse onto your bed, letting your tears flow freely. You found yourself unable to stop crying. You don’t know if it's from the sheer humbling experience or the sorrow of mourning your imagined relationship with Hoseok. You just couldn't believe that he would do that to you? After everything you’ve imagined been through?
For the remainder of the week, you choose to avoid your university commitments, wallowing in self-pity within the safe confinement of your bedroom. Despite sharing a house with your three friends, you surprisingly succeed in avoiding conversation with them. Occasionally, when you attempt to sneak out to use the toilet, you find sweet treats left at your bedroom door - a silent reminder that they’re there whenever you’re ready to talk. But three whole days pass without a word. You even miss Valentine’s day.
On Thursday, a knock interrupts your solitude, and you fully intend to ignore it, not yet ready to face the outside world.
“Y/n, I’m coming in whether you like it or not, so you have 30 seconds to not be naked before I open this door.” Yoongi announces from outside, anticipating your refusal.
“Come in.” he hears you mumble from inside.
He enters to find you cocooned in your blanket on the bed. You both share a silent gaze and Yoongi’s heart aches at the sight of your eyes slowly filling up with tears. As your lips start to quiver, about to burst out in tears, Yoongi rushes over and envelops you in his arms.
Yoongi isn’t known for giving hugs, but as you sob into his shirt, you realise he should do it more often; he’s a really good hugger. And in the second that you feel your friend give you a comforting kiss on the crown of your head, you let go completely.
Yoongi remains silent the whole time you reveal your crush on Hoseok. The only sign you know he is still listening is when he tightens his grasp on you whenever your story elicits harder sobs. Yoongi knows its best to not say or question anything, especially when you start blubbering about some acronym he’s never heard of (something about an OPM), which means 2 rows behind and 10 seats to the left? He decides to not probe further, understanding that right now you just need someone to listen.
"I’m so stupid, I should've known this would have happened, I always get carried away, I always do this,” You sob tiredly, messily wiping your snotty nose, “I need to stop being like this, I think there’s something actually wrong with me Yoongi. I feel like a complete idiot”
Through your swollen eyes, you see him shake his head.
“No, Y/n, stop it. You’re not stupid, you’re not an idiot, there’s nothing wrong with you, and you definitely don’t need to stop being you.” Yoongi scolds, pulling you in for another hug.
“B-but you even said it yourself, I’m unrealistic with these things,” You choke before bursting out into full-on wails, “I made myself believe that he actually liked me back and he didn’t even know I existed.”
You both remain hugging for a while, and with the feeling of Yoongi soothingly rubbing your back, your sobs gradually calm down.
"You know," Yoongi begins quietly, "I love you and I love that you love love because your love for love pushed me to try to be with someone I'm in love with. Only you could've done that.”
The room falls quiet as you digest his words..
“And I also hate how many times I said love in that sentence"
"You said it at least 6 times" you sniffle, smiling up at your friend, “Thank you, Yoons.”
He mirrors your smile.
“Don’t even mention it.” He says, pulling you in for a side hug, “And to hell with that man. Surely if he doesn’t even appreciate my best friend, he’s not worth it. What’s even so great about him?! Huh?” He shouts out, as you let out a small sniffing giggle.
"He's got really great cheekbones", you start, and a beat of silence passes as Yoongi meekly agrees.
"Yeah, he does.”
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In an attempt to cheer you up, Yoongi invites you to join him and Jimin for lunch on Sunday before your shift, promising a rather unconventional third-wheel experience. Despite your initial hesitations, as you watch the undeniable cuteness between them, your temporary barriers crumble, and you watch their interactions with joy and just the faintest tinie-wine hint of bittersweetness. Perhaps it’s because Jimin’s genuine concern for your well-being radiates comfort or maybe it’s his angelic aura, you find yourself confiding in him about your crush on Hoseok.
As you share your sorrows with the two men in front of you, you release a sigh of relief as he takes in the information with nothing but open-mindedness and kindness. His reassurance and comfort that Hoseok’s forgetfulness is not a reflection of you, but rather a quirk of his character - or, as Jimin admits, an annoyance - brings you comfort, leaving you feeling better as you make your way to work. 
Throughout the rest of your shift, a sense of peace settles within you. Perhaps, deep down, there’s a part of you that just thrives on romance and love, a factor ingrained in your disposition. As you clean tables, you come to the realisation: who cares if romance seems a bit elusive to you right now? It undeniably exists in the world, evident all around you. In your friends, in love songs, and even in those silly magnet socks. And that brings you happiness - a fact made abundantly clear by the joy you feel knowing your friend is experiencing it. 
Maybe, just maybe, it’s just not your time, and you muster the courage to admit, with a shaky exhale, that perhaps Hoseok simply wasn’t meant to be that person for you.
But you don’t dwell on that thought for too long, getting distracted by your divorced regular walking in with a new woman.
You stride to your Monday lecture actually feeling really great. I mean, you acquired a new friend (Jimin <3), you have a feeling Molly may have a little thing for Taehyung (which you’ll undoubtedly observe with unsolicited interest at lunch), and your Sunday regular (who strangely moved on from a whole marriage in just a week) still gives good tips. You feel ecstatic even.
On your way to your lecture, you pause briefly. Your eyebrows furrow at the sight of two rats sitting together on a bench, their tails somehow strangely interlocking. It was oddly and bizarrely romantic, prompting you to send a picture in the groupchat. For once, everyone actually agreed, even Yoongi.
So, who cares if you romanticise things? It got you this far, even through countless 9am lectures - a victory for someone with your habit of missing lectures. Perhaps you could still appreciate Hoseok's face, it's still a gorgeous face. And besides, when you really think about it, you don't actually know anything about him! He might actually be an awful person! You try to tell yourself that, but there’s still a small part of your heart that remains unconvinced.
You enter the lecture hall surprisingly 10 minutes early, say goodbye to OSP, hello to sitting wherever the fuck you want (which is kind of a relief considering Hoseok tended to sit really far behind and you really struggled to see the board sometimes).
Absorbed in Yoongi’s latest post of him and Jimin, you’re startled by a familiar voice beside you.
"Is this seat taken?"
Oh?
You look up to see the devastatingly handsome ray of sunshine himself, gesturing to the seat where your bag is on. You try not to inwardly scream at how good he looks. He’s wearing glasses you’ve never seen before and a really fluffy looking red jumper, which just makes him look so boyfriend and so, so gorgeous.
"No, it's not actually", you hesitantly move your bag and offer a polite smile.
You watch him sit down next to you and give you another earth-shaking smile, to which you offer a timid one back. You curse your heart for speeding up.
Don't get your hopes up, Y/n.
In order to distract yourself, you look down at your phone again and answer some messages from your family, unaware of Hoseok stealing glances at you. 
He notices just how cute your nose is, how sparkly your eyes are when you gleefully read whatever is on your screen. He is a bit embarrassed to admit how much he would love to know how to make the corners of your lips move upwards like that. He also notes his sudden urge to grab your attention away from your screen and onto something else. Or maybe someone else.
He also feels the need to giggle and scream into a pillow. Huh.
Before he opens his mouth to make conversation and apologise for what happened last week, the professor begins his lectures, interrupting his chance.
As the lecture progresses, your professor makes another weird ‘joke’ about his wife, which makes you halt your note taking to stare at him in disbelief.
"I’m so surprised his wife hasn’t left him yet" Hoseok whispers to you.
You giggle at the remark, your head instinctively dipping down to avoid drawing attention. Hoseok's eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh, completely captivated by the sound. If you looked at him at this moment, you would notice that his face lit up much more than usual, a glint of endearment painting his smile. Your eyes meet, and for a moment, time stands still. You’re struck with how breathtakingly pretty he looks up close, it’s almost unfair. Your eyes are drawn to details you never noticed before - like the charming mole on his lips that makes you <3 (also ignites the desire to kiss it).
Although you know the lesson from the past week was that you can sometimes be delusional in your romanticising, but this time you are 100% sure you see it objectively: Hoseok briefly looks down at your lips before meeting your gaze again. It’s clear you didn’t imagine it, as you catch a sudden look of embarrassment wash over his face as if he got caught out. That’s because he did just get caught out.
You both look away from each other’s eyes, the intensity of the moment becoming a bit too overwhelming. But you both continue to sit together in silence, your shoulders brushing, with wide, bashful smiles plastered on your faces. The same thoughts (or lack thereof) swirling in both of your minds:
Tee-hee.
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a/n: tee-motherfucking-hee :) Thank you for reading!
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wandasgf · 9 months ago
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LUNCH. fame!au
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pairing: kujou sara + f!reader
summary: sara's really missed you. and you've missed her just as much
warnings: smut, rockstar!sara, singer!reader, oral
wc: 1.4kish
a/n: rockstar sara <3
“Why don’t you come over here?” Sara plays with the pick between her fingers as she leans back against the couch where she was sitting in her studio, holding her phone up to her ear with the other hand. She was alone today, opting to use the little break in her packed schedule to perfect and pick at the instrumentals she had already recorded, unlike everyone else who decided to use today as a well deserved rest. While she usually prefers to do this process alone, only calling in the band’s producer if it’s absolutely necessary, she can’t deny that she would enjoy your company. It has been a few weeks since you’ve been able to see each other.
“I don’t know. Are you gonna ignore me the whole time like last time?” You’re leaning up against the wall, phone pressed to your ear and surveying the room around you as you recall the last time you joined Sara at the studio where she ignored you in favor of her guitar for two hours. You’re currently making a polite appearance at some listening party you were invited to, unsure of whose it even was. No one in your immediate circle, you know that. 
“You’d rather that than whatever party you’re at right now, wouldn’t you?” You can practically hear the smirk on her lips and it makes you want to roll your eyes, if not for the lack of privacy you currently have. It would be easy for someone to misinterpret something like that. “I’m not answering that.”
And then, “I think I can make an exit.”
About twenty five minutes later, you find yourself outside of Sara’s condo. You let yourself in, having long since been given a key to the space, and make your way toward the studio that sits at the end of the hallway on the right side of the rather spacious place. You give a little knock on the studio door before you enter and find Sara sitting on one of the stools in the recording booth, guitar in her lap as she tries out different chords. She doesn’t look up, not having heard the knock on the door. 
She’s wearing a pair of baggy black jeans and a white tank. You think it’s unfair how attractive she looks even in something so simple. You walk toward the control board and press one of the buttons that interferes with the sound isolation, “Hey, rockstar.” Her head snaps up and she shoots you a smile that makes your knees weak before she sets the guitar onto its stand and stands up. She runs a hand through her hair to push it out of her face and exits the booth, “hey yourself.” 
She pulls you in towards her by your waist and presses a soft kiss to your lips, “took you long enough.” Your hands come up to rest on her chest, fiddling with the charm on the necklace that hangs around her neck, “the party was in West Hollywood. It’s not my fault you chose to live in downtown LA. You’re just lucky traffic wasn’t that bad tonight.”
“You can never just accept the fact that I wanted to see you, can you?” If you were anyone else, you might think that Sara was annoyed, but the slightly twinkle in her eye and the barely there teasing tone tells you otherwise. “And you can never just say that you missed me like everyone else, can you?”
Sara gives you an amused smirk and then pulls you in for another kiss, more heated this time, her hands slipping underneath your shirt to rest on your bare skin. They’re a little cold and you shiver slightly, but it’s a welcome feeling. She pulls away shortly after, just enough to be able to speak, and her lips brush against yours as she does, “I missed you.” 
You had planned to just hangout with Sara tonight, watch her play and catch up on everything the two of you have been doing these past few weeks, make sure she eats something because you know she gets so engrossed in her work she forgets, but with Sara looking at you like that everything goes out the window. 
“Shut up.” You pull her in by her shirt, your lips crashing together, the both of you kissing each other like you might die if you don’t. Sara’s almost dizzy with want, kissing you with the fervor of a woman starved. Her blunt nails dig into the soft skin of your hips and you let out a little moan in response. 
Sara’s tongue slips into your mouth and you make no attempt at dominance, letting her take over immediately. You move your arms to wrap around her neck, your fingers tangling in her hair, tugging slightly. She starts to walk you both toward the couch until the back of your calves hit the edge and you’re falling into it. 
She pulls away, if only to make sure you settle onto the couch fine. It’s not a position you usually find yourself in, being the one in Sara’s lap nine and a half times out of ten, but Sara looms over top of you this time, an almost predatory look in her eyes. 
“I’m starving. Haven’t eaten all day, you know.” She leans down to press searing kisses to your neck and throat, your eyes fluttering shut as you lean your head back to give her more room. “Mhm? Was gonna—” your breath hitches as her teeth scrape against the column of your throat, “—ask if you’d eaten.” 
“So sweet…” Sara hums, and you’re not sure if she’s referring to your concern for her or the way your skin tastes against her tongue. “I think I know exactly what I want.” One of her hands trails down your waist and rests on top of your thigh. Your cheeks are embarrassingly hot and you’re sure Sara can tell how flustered you are even without properly looking at you.  You’re breathless as you speak, not sure you’ve ever seen Sara so… hungry. “Whatever you want.”
She pulls back, flashing you the most satisfied smirk you think you’ve ever seen before she sinks to her knees on the floor in front of you. “You don’t mind, do you? I’ve been thinking about having you since lunch.” There’s a sparkle in her eye that tells you she knows just how much she affects you and you shake your head, huffing quietly, “stop teasing.”
“If you insist.” She grips your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the couch, leaning in to press soft kisses to your thighs. She pushes them apart, fingertips digging into your plush flesh, before she reaches up to tuck your skirt into its own waistband. The noise you let out when she leans in to press a kiss to your clothed cunt would be embarrassing if you didn’t feel Sara grip your thighs just a little harder. 
She licks a stripe up your thin panties and you whimper. She moves her hands up your thighs, palms sliding against your skin. Her fingertips slip past the hem of your panties and she lifts them slightly, sliding her fingers down towards your cunt. “Sara… don’t tease. Please.”
“Was just making sure you’re ready, baby.” She doesn’t even pull your panties down, just pushes them to the side before she dives in. Her tongue feels like heaven against you, one hand moving down to tangle in her hair and the other gripping at the couch. “Fuck, Sara.”
“ Mm?” She hums against you and your hips buck against her face before you can stop them. One of her hands moves to grip your hip, holding you down against the couch, while the other grips your thigh. 
She alternates between licking and sucking at your clit and pushing her tongue into you, moaning quietly each time you tug her hair a little harder than usual. It’s not long before she’s pushing you over the edge once, twice, three times. Eventually you’re whining and pushing her away weakly, chest heaving and cunt sensitive. 
“S-Sara, I can’t.”
“I don’t know. I think you can do one more for me, can’t you, baby?”
I could eat that girl for lunch. She dances on my tongue.
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tieronecrush · 2 years ago
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all i need to hear
frankie morales x f!reader
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rating: M
word count: 5.1k
summary: part II to 102 -- frankie lies to you to get out of your weekly meetings when he needs space. when you confront him after finding out, everything comes to a head.
warnings: no use of Y/N, post-film timeline, au where frankie doesn’t have a kid, use of pet names (solecita, mi mejor, osito), use of spanish, unrequited love, self deprecation, alcohol use, triple frontier boys teasing you, lying/deception, mentions of substance abuse
a/n: thank you everyone who wanted a part 2, and thank you to the lovely @cannolighost for beta reading <3
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Frankie runs his thumb and index finger through the condensation on his glass, the foamy amber liquid downed halfway despite only getting it dropped off at the table a couple of minutes ago. His leg bounces under the table, half listening to the conversation happening around him at the round booth. Pope, Will, and Benny sit around the table, all with drinks of their own and chatting about Benny’s fight last week. His leg bounces under the table, but he keeps his eyes on the area of the table to attempt to tune into his friends around him. He can’t focus on what they're saying, hearing the words and not connecting them into sentences, and his mind races as he glances at the front door of the bar & restaurant. He can swear he feels the tick of his watch against his wrist, in time with his pulse. A hand lifts his cap off his head, running his fingers through his hair from front to back three times.
The doors moving in his periphery catch his attention. He stands when he sees you, raising his arm halfway in a short wave when you look around the bar for the group.
When you notice him, that sanguine grin of yours stretches across your face and crinkles the skin next to your sparkling eyes. His palms get sweaty at the sight of you nearly gliding through the restaurant, noticing people’s stares being drawn to you. You always managed to brighten every room you occupied effortlessly; he’s watched people sink at ease around your presence, just like you do for him every time he sees you or hears your voice, or feels the warmth radiating off your body and your smile.
The complete opposite of his shy diffidence.
A positive attraction to his negative.
Like those magnets on the North Pole and the South Pole that create a magnetic field, the energy between you two is constantly charged. At least to Frankie, it was; he couldn’t pull himself too far away when you were around.
He grins back at you, one side of his mouth reaching higher as you approach the booth. Your hand reaches up to tug a loose hair behind your ear and Frankie’s fingers itch to do the same on the other side.
“Hey, Osito,” you giggle as he rolls his eyes, trying and failing to hold back a grin at the nickname you’ve dubbed him with since you were teenagers.
“Hi Solecita,” he draws you in with an arm around your shoulders, yours snaking around his waist to squeeze you against his torso before pulling away. The other guys greet you, half hugs leaning over the table and Pope giving you a kiss on the cheek like he always does. He’s teased Frankie about it before, and it used to annoy him, but now he sees it as a sign that you, his best friend from before, have been fully integrated into his found family.
Frankie gestures for you to climb into the booth first, everyone cheating around the round table to make room. It’s a bit of a tighter squeeze with five people, so when Frankie sits down, his knee rests against yours.
He relishes in the contact, resting his hand on the leg closest to you. Silent short inhales fill his lungs every time you shift slightly, the comfort between you two over the years making you completely ignore the seemingly accidental touches. They’re no accident to Frankie — his hand is glued at the spot on his thigh, the other hand around his glass squeezing it tighter with each brush of your jeans.
Conversation turns to making plans to go see some new blockbuster comedy, all of the guys agree to a showing on Monday night. Santiago extends the invitation to you, and Frankie turns his head as everyone waits for your answer.
“I actually can’t make it, I’m sorry guys. You’ll have to tell me how it is.”
“Well, Miss Popular, where are you gonna be?” Benny asks, a corner of his mouth kicked up and a wink sent your way. Frankie turns, rolling his eyes to himself as he takes a swig of his second beer.
“Um, I’ve got a date, actually,” you admit slowly, and as each word leaves your mouth, Frankie feels his body temperature increase. With his glass still as his lips, he downs the rest of his drink and gingerly sets down the empty cup. Pope eyes him with a sympathetic gaze directly across from him.
“A date? Damn, Sol, who’s the lucky guy?” Benny grins at you and Frankie tenses, shifting to sit up straighter on the leather bench. Heat burns at the nape of his neck from Benny’s casual use of the nickname he gave you years ago; it’s become your call sign for the group, but he can’t help the flickering flames of jealousy every time he hears it. They’re only brighter from the mention of your date; it’s like gasoline poured over the fire, a burst of blazing warmth rising up his throat to blister his esophagus.
“His name’s Tristan. We’ve gone on like four dates so far?” You glance around the table as silence falls over the guys. With one look Frankie can tell what they’re all thinking, an involuntary chuckle slipping from his lips and shaking his shoulders. Your head immediately turns to him, confusion clear on your face.
“What? What am I missing?” You snap back to look at each of the other men, a disbelieving laugh escaping you, trying to play into whatever the unspoken joke is.
“Tristan? That’s really his name?” Benny asks with a baffled smirk on his face, eyebrows raised. Santiago explodes in laughter, the infectious sound roping in the rest of the guys. Frankie joins in quietly, glancing over at you and biting his laughter back when he sees your adorable pouty expression.
With a huff you cross your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes. “Y’all are a bunch of dicks.”
“Oh, c’mon, Sol. You have to give us some slack, the guy’s name is Tristan. What kind of name is that? He sounds like he’s like a personal trainer that creeps on women in the gym.” Santi says through his wide smile, shaking his head.
Benny gets even more of a kick out of Pope’s joke, adding to it, “Or sounds like he should be rolling up on a skateboard and asking if you want sativa or indica.”
A guttural groan comes from you and Frankie smiles softly as you bend forward to rest your elbows on the surface and bury your head in your hands.
He’s living for the guys ragging on this dude, but a larger part of him wants to make sure you know it’s only teasing.
“Alright, alright, give it a rest, pendejos.”
He lays a hand between your shoulder blades and rubs a slow circle, giving you an empathetic, tight smile when you raise your head. Frankie’s eyes drop to where you’ve placed your hand on his knee, patting twice before laying it back in your lap. Your touch has eased the burn of jealousy in him like a cold bucket of water thrown over his head and shocking his system.
“Frankie’s right, we shouldn’t be so judgmental just from his name. Even if it’s a little ridiculous,” Pope grins and Will shakes his head, cutting him off before he can attempt to crack any more jokes.
“Just tell them to shut the fuck up whenever you want to, Sol. They’ll actually listen to you, not Fish,” he nods and grins at Frankie, turning his gaze back to you, “So what’s this Tristan like?”
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It’s been a few more hours, and you have not stopped bringing up Tristan at every chance you get now that the news was broken to the guys. Little things like Santi ordering a new beer from some local place, “I just went to that brewery with Tristan”, to something that Frankie certainly didn’t need, and desperately didn’t want, to know. Benny being Benny had brought up the third date rule, citing some conversation he had with some girls who work at the gym where he asked if girls have the same thought about the third date as guys. The younger Miller had turned the question to you, asking if you’d followed the third date rule with the new dude. Immediately flustered, you scrambled and Will stepped in, smacking his brother over the head in reprimand.
“Can’t just ask someone shit like that, Benjamin. God, you’re getting more clueless the older you get, I swear.”
It’s dropped after that, but Frankie is stewing inside over the fact that you hesitated. Being friends for years, he knows you would have shut Ben down immediately if nothing happened between you and Tristan.
He checks the time on his phone, thankful for the excuse he has to get an early night. Gently hitting his fist against the table, he grabs everyone’s attention and moves to stand from the booth.
“Gonna head out, got that early morning meeting for my hearing shit tomorrow.”
“Oh, wait! Do you mind giving me a ride? Sorry, I meant to ask earlier and totally spaced,” you smile sweetly at him, the look in your eyes saying ‘I love these guys but please don’t leave me here alone with them’.
Screaming at him, the voice inside his head tells him to say no, that he will just end up feeling worse than he already does if you bring up the other guy with no one else around to listen for him, but when he looks at that face that seems to always melt his resistance, his lips stretch into the softhearted smile that he reserves for you.
“Don’t mind at all, Solecita. C’mon,” he reaches a hand out, grasping yours when you take the offering, sliding out of the booth and turning to say your goodbyes to his friends still sitting. Frankie sends them each a nod goodbye, the lazy raise of his hand in a wave. He clocks the look that Pope gives him, his eyes saying wordlessly, “Do it, cabrón.”
Frankie strides next to you, walking a step ahead to his truck. You catch up with him at the passenger door, a light laugh breathed out as you speak.
“Geez, Frankie, you’re walking like your ass is on fire.”
He mumbles an apology, opening the car door for you and helping you up with a hand. It’s quiet on the road, the low hum of the radio filling the dead space. Franke’s suddenly the poster child for proper driving, sitting up rigidly straight, both hands on the wheel at ten and two, and eyes trained at the road in front of him, only flickering to check his mirrors.
He doesn’t dare look at you when you adjust in the seat, the swoop of movement in his periphery. Never thought it would happen, but he is incredibly grateful for his interrogation training, being able to sit in droning silence without succumbing to the need to break it. You, however, don’t have the same steal as him and decide to fill the pin-drop quiet with your plans for the weekend. Including seeing Tristan.
No physical reactions give him away, but the thought he has makes his insides roll like the barrel of a wave, crashing over and dissipating nervous energy throughout the rest of his body. 
Your voice fades into the background of the buzzing in his ears as he pulls up to your house, his eyes flay from the reach of the headlights in front of the truck and he looks over at you with a rosy, cushioned smile that he wants to fall into.
“Thanks for the ride, Osito,” your hand reaches across the center console, knuckle of your index finger lightly knocking against the stubble of his chin, “See you Sunday?”
The skin there burns reddened, hidden by the darkness of the car. All his frustration, at himself, at the situation, at you (albeit, misplaced, but still there), sits in his chest, fueling his spiraling thoughts that corkscrew into one decision. The words spill from his mouth before he can fully think about them.
“I can’t make it on Sundays anymore, or at least for a while. My, um, my NA meetings that I go to, y’know the ones closest to my place that are run by my sponsor? They got moved to Sunday mornings cause some church group needs the hall on Thursday nights now.” Eyes averted from you, he only glances lightning quick to see you visibly deflate in your seat. Guilt creeps across his skin, the disappointment evident in your face but you stay silent in your feelings, never going to ask him to do anything that would possibly affect his sobriety.
“Well, maybe we can chat next week and figure out another day that could work?” Moon-eyed with a stunted, mirthless quirk of your lips.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll call you later this week, Solecita.”
“Alright, um, probably should head into bed. Night, Osito. Text me when you get home, yeah?”
“Will do. Night, mi mejor.”
He sends you as loose of a smile as he can muster, idling at the curb to make sure you get inside your door. The engine revs when he pulls away, letting out a large exhale that he was holding in.
Maybe with some space, he can finally move on.
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TO: Frankie 🧸
Hey, any chance you have a few minutes to talk? Got a little bit of time on my lunch left.
Can’t, sorry Sol. At work, don’t have lunch for another 1.5 hrs.
No worries! Call me when you’re off?
FROM: Frankie 🧸
Sorry I missed your call
About to go into another meeting with my lawyer, talk later?
Sounds good! Call me whenever
Hey, how’d the meeting go? Have time to chat?
TO: Frankie 🧸
Sorry to bother, do you have a couple minutes to talk? Just feeling a little meh after work today
Fuck
Sorry I missed this Sol
Guys dragged me out to celebrate my hearing getting scheduled for next month
FROM: Frankie 🧸
Hey Sol
Guess what
Did something you’re gonna hate
Francisco what have you done??
Got a haircut for my hearing
I THOUGHT SOMETHING WAS ACTUALLY WRONG
God, you’re such a dork
I forgive you for cutting your hair, it’ll grow back
How’s the license stuff going by the way? Haven’t gotten to hear about it from you!
TO: Frankie ​​🧸
Ran into Ben and Will at the grocery store
They said you need some character witnesses for your hearing?
I’d do it for you Osito
TO: Frankie 🧸
Everything okay? We haven’t talked in a while
Just wanted to check in with you 🩵
I miss you
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It’s been an adjustment to have Sunday mornings free.
Normally you’d sleep until the last minute before you needed to get out the door, throwing on whatever clothes are clean and cozy, stopping for coffee on your way over to the park to meet Frankie. It was always early enough that there weren’t too many people, but consistently late enough to not be caught by a creeping dawn. Some of your favorite mornings with Frankie had been the ones where both of you still met in the pouring rain, parking right next to each other and him running out of his car and quickly over to the passenger seat of yours.
These days, your Sunday mornings have been quiet. Slow. No scramble to get out of bed on time. No feeling of warmth radiating off of Frankie. No sunlight wrapping you two in its embrace. No smell of Irish Spring soap, mint toothpaste, or his cologne you’d helped him pick out before a date years ago — notes of black currant, bergamot, patchouli, and birch that waft from his sweatshirt and tickle your nose, placating any anxious thoughts with one hit.
No, Sundays now are waiting. Waiting for the morning to be over to move on from the ache in your heart. Waiting for a message or a phone call from Frankie. Waiting for the word that his NA meetings have been moved back and your sacred routine can begin again. Waiting for the day that you don’t have to miss him anymore.
This week, you decide not to wallow at home. It will be a productive morning or at least a distracting morning; there’s a bookstore on the other side of town from you, close to Frankie’s, that you have been meaning to make a return at. You thought you would do it the next time you were on your way to his house, but with the way things have been, that day is further and further away. And you only have another week left, according to your receipt.
Rubber soles of your sneakers shuffle against the pavement as you walk down the street, taking in one of your favorite areas of the city that you haven’t visited in a while. You cross your arms over your chest, pulling the flannel jacket you’re wearing tighter to you to block out a chilled autumn breeze. The sun is shining, and it hasn’t quite dropped to an uncomfortable cold, so there are still tons of people milling about along the street. The cafe next to the bookstore even has outdoor tables arranged, and as you approach, the sight at one of them stops your feet from moving and glues your eyes to the spot.
Frankie is sitting in the sunshine, coffee in front of him, and Santiago across from him. He hasn’t seen you yet, and you check the time to make sure you weren’t off in your thoughts.
Yep, definitely should be in his meeting.
God, if only the sidewalk could swallow you up, leaving you to never have to face this. Why isn’t he in his meetings? He should be showing up to everything he can to prove that he’s sober for his license hearing. He would be a fucking idiot to mess that up.
Another thought crosses your mind, bubbling in your stomach and sending bilic, steamy breath to burn your throat as your newfound rage cooks you from the inside out.
Does he even have meetings on Sundays? Was he avoiding you? Lying to you?
Frankie would never do that to you. He couldn’t. He was your best friend. Your Osito. You were in lo—
No. No spiraling. No wasting any more energy on chasing your tail about him, feeling like a lost puppy begging for attention.
Instead, your anger forces your feet forward before your brain catches up, crossing the yard-width sidewalk and standing right in view of Frankie, next to Santiago’s chair. He looks away from Pope, the grin on his face dropping as soon as his eyes register that it was you. Mouth ajar, grip on his coffee cup tighter, and eyes wide —  embarrassed and apologetic.
“Are you skipping out on meetings or did you not want to hang out with me anymore?” Your eyebrows raise, glance darting to the side to see Santi sink in his chair. Frankie blubbers his lips, living up to his call sign as he gasps for air under your blazing vexation, “Y’know what, it doesn’t even matter, cause either way I can’t believe you. I’m so pissed at you. I thought you were better than this.”
“Solecita, wait.” He stands from the table and follows you as you walk away, tears stinging your eyes. You can’t even face him anymore, the fury inside ashing as it fades into icy dejection.
“No, Frankie, I can’t talk about this right now. I really don't even want to look at you right now,” he catches his hand on your bicep, turning you to face him as you stumble. He steadies you with a hand on your waist, the apologetic look in his watery brown eyes and the smolder of his touch making you step back breathlessly.
“I’m sorry, mi mejor. I really am, it’s just— you wouldn’t understand, I’m—”
You hold a hand up to stop him, shaking your head and attempting to cover the emotion in your voice, failing miserably when you open your mouth.
“Please, Frankie, I can’t,” you lock your eyes on your sneakers, blinking back your tears, “I need to go.”
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Frankie doesn’t protest again, standing frozen on the sidewalk and watching as you walk past the table. Pope’s eyes flick up from his phone that he pulled out to keep his attention away from the private conversation. When you disappear around a street corner, his limbs loosen from their marbleized rigidity, sulking over to the small bistro table and sitting down in silence.
One of his hands drags down his face, his mind is willing away the tears threatening the corners of his eyes. Santiago looks at him with a grievance, clearing his throat and speaking bluntly.
“That was fucked up lying to her about that, Fish.”
Frankie glares, rancor jagged in his voice, “Obviously I know that. But I couldn’t sit there every week and listen to her brag about this guy…I want her to be bragging about me to her other friends. It’s not fucking fair.”
“You’re the one who stopped yourself from taking the chance to tell her how you feel. And you’re still doing it.”
“She’s probably in a relationship by now, I can’t just dump all my shit on her.”
“Well, you wouldn’t know if she’s even still dating the dude 'cause you’ve been avoiding her!”
That shuts Frankie up and makes him even more annoyed — mostly because Pope is right. And he fucking hates when that happens.
He stews for a taciturn minute; thoughts hastened in plotting. He runs a palm flat against the stubble dotting his chin, working his jaw side to side.
“I’ve gotta go,” he says it as almost a question before his brain is yelling at him to move, “I gotta go find her. Do you think she’s in her car yet? Fuck, I don’t even know where that is. Should I go to her house and wait if she’s not home? Do I drive around the city to find her?”
Pope chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he stands and claps a hand on Frankie’s shoulder.
“I think you know exactly where she’s gonna be.”
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It’s nearly midday now, the blinding autumnal sun casting short shadows in the trees as he jogs from the parking lot along the paved trails. It’s busy — way busier than when he usually comes here on Sundays. He’s dodging strollers, slipping sideways between groups of friends and families, juking with runners in the middle of their workouts. When he almost reaches you, he nearly misses his foot getting caught in the slack of a dog lead, lifting it in a skip as he calls out an apology behind him, either to the dog or owner, he doesn’t really care who hears it.
 Darting his eyes around the field, his ears are filled with the sound of his thumping pulse, blood rushing as loud as waves. He’s standing in the middle of the path, getting dirty looks and passive-aggressive comments, but it all falls away when he sees you. Sitting on the usual rock, arms hugging your knees to your chest and head bent to rest against the joints there. Inside of his chest, his heart is squeezed to mush, seeping into the deepest ache he’s felt between his ribs and down his vertebrae.
Never, in all your years as friends, did he ever hurt you like this.
And with what he has to tell you, there’s a possibility that he’ll never be able to make it up to you. That you’ll never want to see him again.
In spite of it, his legs drag him forward, paying no mind to those around him having to stop in their tracks or swerve to avoid him. He’s chartered on a course directly to you, climbing onto the stone quietly until a scrap of his sneaker catches your attention and lifts your head to look at him.
Fuck, you were crying. All because he was a fucking stupid coward.
No sound breaks between you two as Frankie sits next to you, a foot of space separating you. He picks up a small pebble that’s broken off the larger boulder, rolling it with his fingers before tossing it into the water and watching the ripple form and dissipate. After another beat, his head turns to you, your own stuck straight ahead.
“I’m sorry, mi mejor. I am so fucking sorry that I lied to you. My meetings didn’t move. And—and I promise I’m still going on Thursday nights. Still sober. Nothing like that has changed. I wouldn’t do that to you—I wouldn’t put myself back in that place after all the help you’ve given me to get my life back…”
Your voice is thick with sadness when you respond, eyes trained ahead on the water, “So, why did you do it? Why did you lie? Why didn’t you want to see me anymore? I’ve been trying to think of something that happened, something I did. What did I do to drive you away?”
“No. Please don’t think like that. You did nothing, Solecita. Nothing. It was something I didn’t do that made me put space between us. It was a selfish thing to do, and I am so sorry that I did it.”
“What didn’t you do? I can’t think of anything I expected of you. Well, besides our Sundays and being my best friend. You’ve been doing both of those for years.”
“It wasn’t…It wasn’t anything you asked of me, Sol. It was something I’ve been needing to do for years,” he swallows hard and sits up, squinting in the sunlight reflecting off of the rippling pond.
“I understand if you need some space for real after this. Or if you’re angry, or if you wanna just get up and leave. I’ll understand.”
“Frankie, you’re kind of scaring me. Just tell me,” you rest a hand on his arm laying on his propped knee, tender eyes melting his heart, “Always here. Always, Osito.”
He takes a deep breath, nerves haywire, and shakes jolting energy throughout his body. He trains his eyes on his shoes as he begins the confession he’s held in for nearly as long as he’s known you.
“I’m…Sol—Fuck. I’m sorry. I want to tell you, I do, but the words are really not coming to me how I want them to.”
“Francisco Pedro Morales, just tell me. Whatever words are in your head are the right ones,” you lean closer to him, reaching a hand up to brush the hairs at his forehead that stick out from his cap.
His eyes close for a long minute, attempting to relax his galloping heart.
With no luck in calming down, he opens his eyes and turns his head to you, stare locking at yours as a meek voice leaves his mouth.
“I love you.”
You’re perplexed for a moment, eyebrows pinching together before a faint laugh slips out, “I love you too, Frankie. But…you’ve said that to me before. Like many times.”
“No, no I don’t mean — I’m in love with you, Solecita. I have been since…well, since about a month after I met you. You’re this—this radiant, lustrous, fucking dazzling, gentle, and gracious presence in my life that I can never stop thinking about. All I want is to see you smile, and hear your laugh…I want to make you proud of me. I would kill to protect you, even from myself, and stupid shit I do that hurts you. I want to be able to look at you when you walk into a room, and I see everyone fucking glued to you because you’re so shining and joyful and know that you’re mine. That anyone else could try, but I would know that you’re coming home with me, that you chose me. I would fucking worship the ground you walk on, cause I already do. Your word is like gospel to me. It’s like…you’re my true North in life, I just point myself toward you to be able to find my bearings and keep moving…I just, I fucking love you. Te amo infinitamente, con todo en mi. (I love you infinitely, with everything in me.)”
“And I know you’re with Tristan now, so I get it if you can’t—”
“I’m not.”
“Not what?”
“I’m not with Tristan. We broke things off weeks ago. I broke things off weeks ago — when we weren’t keeping up with each other because I realized — I realized that I didn’t want him. He was a placeholder. And he could never live up to the person whose place he was holding.”
“Who’s that?” he says defensively, a puff of air leaving his lips in frustration that there’s yet another guy he needs to compete with.
“Que tonto, Francisco. (What a fool, Francisco.)” You shake your head with a creeping grin, the corners of your mouth slowly rising as your eyes sparkle in the sunlight. His own brow furrows in confusion until it clicks a moment later. His own smile matches yours, sheepishly hanging his head before he turns back to you.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, 'Oh.'” The trill of your laughter knocks up his spine and he rolls his eyes playfully, scooting closer on the cool stone.
“So…is this other guy you’ve been waiting around for just like, wickedly handsome? Es él todo lo que soñaste? El tipo de chico con el que te gustaría montar en la puesta de sol? (Is he everything you dreamed of? The type of guy you'd want to ride into the sunset with?)” He smirks, wagging his eyebrows as his eyes flicker to your lips. His pulse races with the real possibility that he’s finally going to get to kiss you, after all of this time and after imagining it in countless daydreams.
“Can’t say I’ve thought about riding into the sunset with him…but I have thought about flying into the sunset with him. Tiene alas para llevarme (He has wings to carry me). Anywhere.”
“Anywhere for you. Te llevaría a cualquier parte, amor (I would take you anywhere, love.)”
Frankie closes the gap between you two, one of his hands reaching up and holding your cheek in his palm. His lips press delicately, featherlight to yours as if he’s scared of breaking the spell with his touch on your skin.
You, always the more assured and decided, hold onto Frankie’s wrist near your face, deepening the kiss. It knocks the air from his lungs, every ounce of his breath is given to you as his lips begin to ebb with yours, tilting your head back to slant his mouth down. You pull away first, his head chasing after you. His mouth hangs open as he looks at you with a gentle smile, eyes twinkling with the dwindling sunlight. A silent laugh is shared between the two of you, a giddy, boyish grin on his face as his heart continues to race.
It’s you who speaks first, voice no louder than a whisper, as if you couldn’t dare share this moment with anyone else around you.
“I love you, Frankie. Always.”
“Siempre, mi amor. Siempre.”
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tags: @beskarandblasters @swiftispunk @joelsversion @lunapascal @addictedtotlou @deathwife @johnwatsn @pedgeitopascal @pedrospartner @atinylittlepain @soaringcloud @wannab-urs @javiscigarette @yazsos @northernwindd @pr0ximamidnight @theelishad @scrambledslut @thetriumphantpanda @dinsdjrn @midnightswithdearkatytspb @ladamedusoif @meveispunk @bitchwitch1981 @marisemonteiroo @brittmb115 @axshadows @cannolighost @titabel @the-wrong-providence @wretchedmo
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