#you do have to comment though bc I will miss it if its just in the tags

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two--you are here/ Part Three

Hellfire did in fact, have cookies to sell.

More than cookies, which Dustin practically preened over when Eddie dragged himself back to their table. 

The ornaments they had made were still there, but now the centerpiece was an array of baked goods. Spread out in a spiral, it started from the large cake in the center and spun out into miniature cookies held in tiny decorated bags, all while Harrington stood over them like a proud parent. 

It smelled mockingly delicious. 

Eddie glared at the display, resisting the urge to upend the whole thing onto the floor.

Cookies and cakes and (--was that frickin bread pudding?) whatever other treats Harrington had shown up with might look good, but Eddie didn’t trust it. 

Didn’t trust Harrington, even if the bastard had never really done anything himself--but then, he never had to, had he? 

That was the point of all that money, after all. So he could pay other people to do his dirty work while he kept his hands squeaky clean. 

“Inch a bit to the left--there, stop!” Harrington was saying, like the bossy asshole he was.

Like he thought he could just come in and expect everyone to follow his lead. 

“Perfect! Now don’t touch it.” 

God, Eddie had to nip this in the butt, now. Before King Horrorton harassed his sheep all day, and cemented the club's undeserved bad name in the minds of Hawkins.

“Dustin what did I just say--” 

Eddie stepped up to the front of their table, preparing himself for war.

Looked over to his friends knowing they'd likely need a nod of reassurance. A show from him that said he had this handled.

There was no cowering. 

No pleading, helpless, 'What do we do Eddie!?' gazes aimed his direction.

Hellfire wasn’t even looking at him, and not because they were all avoiding Harrington's line of sight.

No, the fucking traiters were flanking the King. Like they were buddies with the bastard instead of mortal enemies. 

“Hey, Ed’s, Harrington brought pies. Cakes too!” Gareth said around a mouthful of cookie when he noticed Eddie standing before him. 

It came out a garbled mess, but years of experience had Eddie understanding him anyway. 

Jeff was busy playing what sounded like twenty fucking questions regarding the setup, and even Grant appeared comfortable, happily letting Harrington order him around as they finished setting up. 

Like this was some kind of cutesy Disney movie where they all held hands and sang songs instead of a hostile takeover situation. 

Eddie’s eye twitched.

Sensing a disturbance in the force, Jeff looked up and immediately interrupted himself to point to a series of red and green cookies placed dead center, delighted. 

“Check it out man, Steve made some shaped like dice!” 

(And he did say ‘Steve.’ 

Not Harrington, or This Asshole, or The Invading Evil Forces of Darkness.

Just Steve, like Steve was someone Jeff hung out with everyday.

Jeff’s cleric was a dead elf walking.) 

Eddie took note of what was in fact, dice cookies. 

He hated how good they looked.

“There’s four flavors.” Steve told him, cocky little grin on his face as he observed his work.  “Chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and the dice ones are sugar cookies.” 

He licked his lips before finally turning to look at Eddie, hair curling over his face and making him wave a hand to brush them out of his eyes. 

Eddie hated how good he looked too. 

‘Hate, hate, hate, absolutely loathe-’ 

“Great, sure, wonderful.” Eddie managed, though given the look Grant and Jeff both shot him it might have come out as more of a growl. 

Dustin rolled his eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Hellfire’s other two youngest hadn’t dared to show their faces yet. 

Likely they knew Eddie was having an absolute meltdown over Steve’s presence and were waiting for his reaction to blow over. 

(Their characters were dead too.) 

“I have two full cakes--one chocolate, on vanilla--and a few individual slices we can sell.” Steve was continuing, as if Eddie wasn’t glaring a hole in his forehead. “Those did really well last year when I made them for the basketball team.” 

Insults fought for space on Eddie’s tongue, but he managed to roll a 20 to pick the best one, opening his mouth to let it fly.

"Harr-" is as far as he got before he was rudely interrupted.

“Steve? Is that you?” A woman Eddie didn’t recognize but was clearly someone's mom came up cautiously to the table, side eyeing the Hellfire banner like a nervous horse. “That can’t be your famous tiramisu, is it?”

Steve beamed at her. “Well hi Miss Carpenter. It is!” 

Eddie was bumped aside by a massive purse, the woman not even glancing in his direction as she stepped up to the table. 

With a sneer, he finally slumped to the back of their little spot as Miss Carpenter looked over all Steve’s (not Hellfire’s and absolutely not Eddie’s) offerings. 

Didn’t care to wipe it off right then, even if he knew he needed to if he wanted to make sales. 

Jeff sent him a look.

The same one he usually aimed Eddie’s way when he thought Eddie’s antics were going to cause problems. 

He ignored it, on grounds that traitors don’t get to be judgy. 

“Oh,” Miss Caprtender tittered, the draw of Harrington’s baked goods clearly overcoming whatever fear she had about Hellfire. “Well I just can’t pass that up. The swim team meets aren’t the same without you!”

Eddie pretended to gag.  

Waited for her to comment on Hellfire--their clothes, their music, hell even the length of Eddie’s hair--and found he was almost disappointed when there wasn't even a single question about why Hawkins precious golden child was slumming it with the weirdos. 

Instead, Miss Carpenter's hand went fishing in her purse for her wallet as she loudly called out over her shoulder, to, presumably another annoying woman; 

“Terry, Steve’s here! He’s been baking!” 

For two terrifying seconds, there was a notable dip in the conversations around them. 

Grant’s eyes went wide as several women responded to the announcement like dogs hearing food hit the floor, and within seconds their table was absolutely swarmed by the mothers of Hawkins.

Even Eddie was taken aback at the sheer number of them. 

“Hold, men, hold.” Dustin cautioned as Jeff and Grant both flinched. “Come on, we need to get our gold!” 

“They’re scary though.” Gareth whispered in horror as four women tried to talk at once, jostling each other so hard they shook the table menacingly. 

“Ladies, ladies there’s enough here for everyone!” Steve laughed, showing off his disgustingly cute dimples as he did, getting several of the mom’s to blush at their own behavior in the process. 

The sheer amount of attention of course, drew in even more people, and Dustin quickly took up directing, planting Jeff and Grant at either end of their table while he and Steve fended off the hoard from the front. 

(Given the way he and Steve were equally ordering Hellfire around, Eddie finally knew where the little shit had picked that attitude up from. He was going to have to cure Dustin of it, ASAP.  ) 

“Here you go Miss Harper.” Steve said sweetly, handing over yet another stack of baked goods.

Without turning his head, and in the tone of voice one used to warn a misbehaving dog, he added; “Gareth don’t think I can’t fucking see you, get back up here.” 

Caught trying to sink under the table with another cookie in his mouth, Gareth found himself hauled back to his feet by his collar, putting a snarl on Eddie’s face immediately. 

“Hey--” He started, defensive and more than ready to intercede, except Gareth wasn’t flinching or cursing or doing that thing he did with his mouth when he was desperately trying to hold in his temper. 

Instead he was giving a sheepish grin and a half-assed apology while he hung in Harrington’s grasp, before doing what the guy told him to do. 

(It did not help that Steve patted him on the shoulder when he released him, before handing Gareth a third fucking cookie.)

Eddie’s eye twitched a second time.

(He told it to knock it off.

It didn’t listen.) 

No one acknowledged Eddie or his outburst, which meant he was just skulking behind the boys while they all worked. 

Arms crossed, rings tapping a rhythm on his forearm, far too keyed up to do anything other than glare at the back of Harrington's skull.

The King seemed perfectly happy to ignore him.

Likewise, Gareth and Grant knew better than to bother him when he was in a snit. 

Henderson made the occasional snappy little comment, but the brat had mostly left him alone now that they were well into the swing of selling, chortling over the increasing stack of cash Steve kept trying to get him to put into a “safe place.” 

Eddie was seconds away from walking up and snatching the cash himself when Jeff decided it was on him to attempt the impossible. 

Get him to help Harrington. 

“More hands would be nice, Eddie!” Jeff called, looking more than a little harassed as the mom he was helping changed her order a second time, snaking out the last single slice of chocolate cake from another mom who was eyeing it. “Steve and I could really use your assistance over here!” 

Eddie’s glare, which had been doing its level best to try and vaporize the King’s brain, switched targets instantly. 

“I’m supervising.” 

Jeff made a face like he was about to argue, but the King beat him to it. 

“It must be tough,” Harrington said, tilting his head to look back towards Eddie, “to supervise people who are working so much harder than you.” 

Which promptly set the mood for the next full hour. 

xXx 

Harrington was matching him tit for tat.

Every shitty, sneered word out of Eddie’s mouth was met with an equally mean toned barb, though given the repeated looks everyone kept shooting him, Eddie was very much considered the aggressor here.

A fact he cannot believe is coming from his own friends.

What happened to comradery? To Eddie stepping in and protecting them, from the likes of people just like Harrington? 

But no, Eddie makes one fucking comment about how the cookies are probably half hair-spray and suddenly he’s the bad guy.

(Nevermind that Steve had fired right back, telling Eddie that any hair-spray taste was probably from all the drugs he did.)

Was somewhat, halfway--okay maybe amazing, Eddie might have snuck a cookie himself--food really all it took to get them all to turn on him like this?

Erase the years of Eddie being their shield? 

Act like Harrington wasn’t just as bitchy and awful as he had been in high school (even if he was, admittedly, being nicer about it all right now? Almost--aloof, like he couldn’t figure out why Eddie hated him so much, but likewise wasn’t going to take even one eye roll sitting down--and no, no, Eddie wasn't derailing this by thinking about Harrington's stupid eyes, he wasn't!) 

Frankly he would have flipped them all the bird and stormed off, if it weren’t for the increasingly weird little comments people were making. 

‘Oh Steve, it's a shock to see you here.’ 

‘Are you doing someone a favor?’ 

‘You know Pastor Jim said something about this game…’

The last one had put Eddie’s teeth on edge, even if Dustin had brushed it off. It hadn’t been aimed at Steve directly but the women saying it had absolutely been looking at the King, as if waiting for his reaction.

Not that Harrington would take the bait this soon, though. 

There were too many people buying fricken…cupcakes and shit, while Horrorton enjoyed the attention of the masses. 

Eventually this tiny crowd would die down though, and that’s when Steve would change his tune. Start answering some of the questions he seemed to be dodging as more and more people got braver about coming up to the table.

This whole thing was a ticking time bomb, and Eddie would be ready when it inevitably blew. 

To defend his table, his club, his friends. 

Even Henderson, who absolutely didn’t deserve it just then. 

“Dude perk up would you? You look like you’re going to stab somebody.” Jeff hissed at him ten minutes later, when there was finally a break in the flood. 

Eddie ignored him in place of taking stock of the table. (And maybe, sneaking another cookie.)

“Hope you brought more than this, Harrington.” He said, knowing he sounded like a stuck up ass and not feeling an iota of guilt about it. “Unless you plan to run home and bake more like a good little housewife.”  

“Dude.” Grant said, casting him a look like King Dick might leave and take the cookies with him.

“Oh I brought more.” Harrington dismissed, with a small flick of his fingers. “And I’ll have you know you’d never find a housewife more perfect than I am, Munson.” 

Then he turned to nail Eddie with the most shit eating grin he’d ever seen the King wear. 

Facing flaming a brilliant red, Eddie sputtered for a second before finally getting ahold of himself and spitting; 

“How delightful. I--” 

“Okay.” Jeff cut in, forever the mediator. “Gary, Dustin can you help Steve pull the extra stuff out from under the tables? While I go talk to Eddie?” 

“Can I try the tiramisu?” Gareth asked, inching hopefully towards the treat while keeping an eye on Harrington’s hands, lest he get smacked again. 

“Only if you’re a good boy.” Harrington told him sarcastically and goddammit why did that make Eddie blush harder!? 

Jeff sighed, before grabbing his arm and hauling Eddie back, away from the table, right as a younger man in some stupid sport’s jacket asked questions about one of the dice cookies.

“Look I get it man, I do,” Jeff started, voice talking in the sort of wheelding, pleading tone it did when he really wanted something and knew Eddie was opposed. “but Steve’s been super cool. We might actually make money off this, and he’s giving us all of it. Can you just… not antagonize him for five minutes?” 

Eddie stared at his best friend in abject horror. 

“You couldn’t have talked to him for more than twenty minutes total. Half of which he spent bitching that you were bagging a cake wrong! At what point was Harrington "being cool!?"

The asterisks were made by his fingers, which Eddie mockingly framed his face with. 

He got a flat, unimpressed stare in return. 

“It was a very informative twenty minutes and he was right about the cake. Now are you going to help or are you going to glower in the corner?” 

Eddie gaped. 

“I cannot believe you right now--”

Jeff didn’t even wait to hear him out.

 “You’ve chosen to glower. I can’t help you man, but we’d all have a much better day if you weren’t at Harrington’s throat every five seconds.” Jeff turned smoothly on his heel.

Over his shoulder he added; “Seriously, don’t come back until you’ve worked your way out of your snit.” 

Shocked, Eddie watched Jeff float back to the front, inserting himself easily between Grant and Steve and immediately striking up a conversation.

With the enemy. 

“I didn’t know you baked.” Jeff told Steve loudly (and very obviously, for Eddie to see.) 

Steve gave a bashful little smile, then shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Got into it back when the basketball team needed to fundraise a few years ago and Tommy’s mom got it in her head we should sell home baked goods. Turns out its kinda fun.” 

“Please never get out of it.” Gareth insisted, a piece of God knows what crammed in his mouth.

“Dude, how many of those have you gotten into!? Stop eating the merchandise!” Dustin commanded, smacking at Gareth’s shoulder. 

“I physically cannot stop man.” Gareth dodged, reaching out for another cookie. “I’m not sorry.” 

Steve just laughed. All charming and buddy-buddy, like it was natural for him to be here. 

Wearing a Hellfire shirt. Making jokes and teasing the guys. 

In Eddie’s fucking place. 

He seethed, fingers twitching, and envisioned the very unsexy murder of one Steve Harrington.  

Cartoon X’s for eyes and all. 

xXx

Trouble didn't hit the table.

It in fact, seemed to stay away as if on purpose, to shove in Eddie's face that he was the one in the wrong here.

Even the questions toned done as the second wave of moms showed up, this round prompted by some former teammate of Steve’s Eddie didn’t recognize yelling about his apple pie.

Instead, Eddie’s wayward sheep finally made their appearance Mike and Lucas trying to sneak in as if Eddie wouldn’t notice during the new rush.

(Eddie himself almost caused trouble when he realized Lucas was wearing a Not-A-Hellfire shirt, which solved the mystery of where Harrington had gotten his.

He was inching his way towards them, a snarky word on his tongue when he saw Sinclair said something about how he was “already on Eddie’s shitlist for joining the basketball team,” in relation to what must have been a question about his Hellfire shirt, that caused Eddie to freeze.

With the air of a sad, wet kitten, Lucas followed it with; “I’m sure it won’t be long before he kicks me out of Hellfire anyway.” 

Like he'd been punched in the gut, all the air left Eddie’s lungs.

Because before Lucas had said that, Eddie had been thinking it. 

Not really--he’d never kick anyone out of Hellfire.

It was more that he'd thought about it in the way one does when you know you're in the right, and are having to resort to underhanded tactics to force the other party to come to their senses.

Like a sort of shitty, angry “I should kick you out, let you see what happens when you don’t have us!” kind of intervention.

The same kind he had heard the jocks sling before, when they were mad at each other and--God he wasn’t--he couldn’t be, like them...could he?

Like fucking Harrington, who oh fuck, was patting Lucas sympathetically on the shoulder and giving him some kind of whispered advice. 

Sonovabitch. 

“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie bit out, vision tunneling.

He knew he needed to go sit down somewhere, before he fucking lost it in front of Hawkins, Harrington and everyone. 

And wouldn’t that just be a treat for King Steve?

To watch Eddie realize he had turned into the very thing he hated, preached against, even? 

That Steve was, maybe, possibly, doing a better job of following Eddie’s own Munson Doctrine than he was?

Eddie barely saw the room anymore--waived off whatever Grant was trying to say to him as flew past, shaking hands fishing for a desperately needed cigarette.

Maybe a hope and a prayer too, because apparently he needed it.

How long had he been like this? 

Been a douchebag asshole? 

Was it the whole year? More than? Or was it just now, with stupid Steve involved? Could he trace this back to that stupidly cute--no, no, annoying, asshole?

Was this some fucked up way of coping with his growing crush!?

Lost in thought and growing self hatred he nearly careened right into Robin Buckley.

Her slightly bent paper reindeer ears marked her as a memeber of the high school band, who had been absolutely butchering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ a few minutes earlier. 

Vaguely heard her yell Steve’s name as he ran off (because that’s what Eddie was doing. What he always did.

Run--from himself and his own fucking feelings, like a total cliche.)

--but didn’t take in that she was doing more than saying hi to, oh fuck him sideways--her friend.

Because she and Steve were friends now.

Good ones, if the freshmen were to be believed.

Rather than go outside and catastrophize in the cold, Eddie threw himself threw the doors at the end of the hall, then up the stairwell, to the second floor.

Tucked himself into a corner, right there by the stairs.

Sank down into a crouch, hands scrubbing up his face before tangling in his hair, head dropping between his knees, cigarette shoved into his mouth.

Somehow, Eddie decided, this was Steve’s fault. 

He'd have come up with a reason for that, he was sure. A good one even, except he forgot one of the key features of his life.

He was a Munson, and as a general rule of life, nice neat things did not happen to Munson's--but they did get kicked while they were down.

“Okay, what happened?” Steve fucking Harrington asked, voice loudly echoing up the stairwell from down below, and Eddie threw his head back, nearly slamming it against the wall. 

(Maybe he’d pissed off a witch. His life would make a lot more sense if someone had cursed it.)

“She gave me her number!”

That was Buckley, the shrill timber identifiable even as she whispered the words. 

Eddie can’t really see them without giving himself away--could probably make his escape if he got down and army-crawled past the railing he’s huddled by, but figured this is their fault anyway. 

Not his problem if he overhears a private conversation because they’re both too stupid to check to see if someone was seated literally right up above them.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Steve was saying. "That’s what we wanted!” 

“Is it!? What if she’s just, you know, giving it to me?” 

“...I’m not following.” 

“Like in a friend way. Not a--”

“Romantic way?”

Harrington has the smarts to say the words quietly.  So quietly in fact, that had Eddie not been in the exact right position he wouldn’t have heard--but he almost swallowed his unlit (he should have lit it, maybe they'd have smelled the smoke and fucked off) cigarette anyway. 

“Sssshh!” Robin hissed, and Eddie can’t see either of them but he imagined her jamming her hand over Harrington’s big fat mouth. 

“Not so loud, Steve!” 

“Sorry, God.” Sure enough, Harrington’s voice is muffled. “How did she give it to you? Did she say anything?” 

“She asked if I want to hang out after band, but because I have that stupid family thing, I told her I couldn’t today, but I can literally any other day, and she said she’d call me, and I said--” 

“Robs, breathe.” 

“Don’t interrupt me, Dingus!” Robin said, voice shrill again, before she clearly listened to Harrington and took a breath. 

 It was big, and deep, and she blasted it back out loud enough for the fucking birds on the roof to hear. 

In a calmer voice, Robin continued; “I said we never traded phone numbers so I didn’t have hers. She grabbed my arm and wrote her number on it. Look, she added a heart!” 

“Okay, here you go! A hearts a good sign!"  

And Harrington sounded--sounds happy for her, practically ecstatic, which doesn’t make much sense given Robin is talking about a ‘her’ and-

And-and-and--

Eddie’s always been quick to connect the dots. 

It’s something he inherited from his old man. A Munson trait he’s tried to make his own through being an excellent DM (and not by robbing people blind or boosting cars.) 

Here, the dots clearly screamed that Robin Buckley was trying to ask a woman out. 

You know, in a gay way. 

Which Harrington not only knew, but was supportive of. 

Steve Harrington, who famously called Jonathan Byers' a queer before smashing the guy's beloved camera into the ground. 

Eddie’s head exploded. 

Or was in the process of exploding--he’s not entirely sure given the tunnel vision was back and his soul felt like it had exited his body entirely. 

Just knew that his world was being remade for a second time in five minutes, and that he was dealing with it pretty damn poorly.

(Maybe God would be nice for once, and just give him the aneurism he clearly deserved.)

Which was of course, when trouble finally did decide to show face, in the form of Dustin Henderson barging through the doors and into Steve and Robin's little meeting.

Eddie knew, because Eddie could hear him.

“Steve! Steve we have a problem!” 

“I’m busy Dustin--”

“Be busy later, we have an emergency on our hands!” 

“And what, pray tell, do you think is an emergency?” 

Eddie, who had instantly latched onto the conversation by the sheer need to have something distract him from his own thoughts, wondered the very same.

“Jason Carver showed up at the table, with a priest. They’re trying to do some whole kind of crazy sermon--is that a good enough emergency for you!?” 

“Oh shit. ” Steve spat, at the same time Eddie yelled it from up high. 

He sprang up, all thoughts of Robin and Steve knowing he’d eavesdropped vanishing entirely from his head as he lunged for the stairs.

Flew down them, because the thing he'd been waiting all fucking day for had finally happened.

He nearly crashed into Robin once again as he blew through the barely closed doors, Steve and Dustin already far ahead of him.

“Eddie?” Robin asked, voice noticeably nervous. "Were you--"

"Not now Starbuck, but we can talk later." Eddie told her, flying right past.

After he saved Hellfire. 

[withleeknow]

october 23rd.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, slice of life; one ass grab, unedited bc i am a danger to society word count: 1k note: i whipped this up pretty spontaneously and i actually kinda loathe it lol but i still wanted to post smth bc it’s my anniversary of joining the fandom 🥺 also a little early bday post for mimo. the bunny in question is leebit but i couldn’t drop any names bc this is not idol specific lol. anywhomst happy jen(o)versary

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

Minho comes into your shared apartment, shrugging off his coat and taking off his shoes with minimal noise. It’s not that late — just a quarter past midnight — and you’re not a light sleeper by any means, but still.

He had told you not to wait up for him, that his work dinner might end late and he knew you had a long day. Minho patters on socked feet further into your home, expecting you to be in bed already sleeping, surrounded by your loyal trio of cats, and yet, it’s not the bedroom where he finds you.

Yes, you’re sleeping, but you’re on the couch, in front of the TV with Netflix’s question “Are you still watching?” written over a paused scene of the K-drama you’re both currently obsessed with. There’s a stuffed bunny in your arms, held tightly against your chest like it’s your most prized possession. Looks like you’ve been napping for a while now.

The white bunny is dressed in a navy hoodie, his eyes full of mischief that’s only emphasized by a toothy smile that he sports. It’s the plushie that Minho got for you during your vacation trip to Osaka last year, when you happened to spot the little fur ball in the window of a toy store and said it looked like your boyfriend. It’s become a great companion for you ever since you brought it home, something for you to hold onto whenever you miss your love.

Minho is a little surprised. You don’t usually force yourself to stay up for you, especially when you’re tired.

He doesn’t disturb you right away though. Instead, he heads toward the bathroom to change and freshen up for bed. You would probably kill him if he touched you in his outside clothes anyway.

When he returns some fifteen minutes later, he switches off the TV, tugs the bunny by its ears to free it from your embrace and chucks the thing haphazardly to the carpeted floor. It’s your prized possession, not his. Besides, you don’t need your little replacement Minho anymore now that he’s home.

When he scoops you in his arms, you stir awake, adorably confused as he carries you to the bedroom.

“Where’s my bunny?” Half a question, half a yawn.

“Hello to you too,” he mutters, laying you under the covers with narrowed eyes though he still leans in to press a greeting peck to the corner of your mouth. “I guess I don’t even matter as much as your little toy. Not even a ‘How are you?’”

“Okay, love of my entire life.” You roll your eyes with affection, pulling him down to kiss him properly. You can still taste it, the white wine that he must’ve had all night. “How are you? How was the dinner, big baby?”

“Boring. Unbearable. Should’ve just stayed home with you,” Minho laments, crawling into the space next to you, settling into your arms as you hug him close. This is what you should be doing all the time. With him, not some lame rabbit. “Why did you wait up? I told you you didn’t have to.”

You card your fingers through his soft hair, playing with the strands that curl at the nape of his neck. “Our anniversary’s tomorrow. Or I guess it’s today already. Just wanted to see you before the morning.”

“Would it make a difference?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”

Your boyfriend detaches from you for a second to hold himself up on one elbow. He just stares at you for a brief moment, makes you blush under the scrutiny of his gaze. His big eyes, usually keen and sharp, always soften to a dizzying degree when they look at you.

Then Minho is leaning close to slant his mouth over yours again. “You’re cheesy today,” he comments, his tender smile still pressed against your lips. "Happy anniversary."

You only hum in response. One of his hands slides down your body to rest on your ass, giving it a little affectionate squeeze, the moment still entirely innocent despite his sneaky fingers.

You kiss for a while, lazily moving together in tandem, gentle hands holding onto the other person like a lifeline. In a way, you suppose you are. You’re each other’s lifelines, each other’s lighthouses.

When you pull away, it’s to let out a yawn that you can’t hold in anymore. “Happy anniversary”, you finally say back, sleepily. “Can you go get my bunny now? Did you leave him on the floor again?”

Minho rolls his eyes, yet it’s playful and completely endeared. “Your bunny again. That thing is on the floor where it belongs. You replaced me. Didn’t you use to call me your bunny?”

“Don’t do that to him,” you scold softly. “He’s our son. Have you seen the resemblance? You look like you literally birthed him.”

“Oh my god, why would you compare me to that thing like that?” Before you know it, Minho’s rolling over, resting half of his body on top of yours like a weighted blanket to pin you down, to get you complacent before you nag him any further about a toy bunny that he only sometimes gets jealous of. “You’re delirious. Please go to sleep.”

The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed, the warmth that you usually feel beside you gradually waning by the second. Minho’s gone, but greeting you in his place is a white bunny with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in his big eyes — truly a perfect replica of the man. The same bunny that he always makes a show of hating so much.

The sun is out to play, hanging high up in the sky, slithering through the cracks between the curtains to caress your hair. It feels like it’s gonna be a beautiful day; you’ve got your bunny, the sun, and if you focus hard enough, you’ll hear the sounds of pots and pans out there in the kitchen, Minho’s soft voice humming a tune you’re too familiar with, and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting all around.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 23.10.2024]

[cvntluver444]

7 mins in heaven w ellie😇😇😇😇

thank you so much for your request and your support love!! <3

✞ 7 minutes ✞

✿ summary : the request!

✿ warnings : smut minors/men (boys) dni, puss rubbing, dirtyy talk, shy reader, sweet ellie, ellie teaching reader, reader is in closest!!!!!!, mentions of reader in str@ight relationship, almost getting caught!, if i missed any lmk pls!

✿ a/n : thank you for supporting my works as always! this is not my best work bc i used all my creative brain juice on my last fic so i am so sorry! unfortunately, i am headed back to school this weekend so my writing is going to slow down, but i'm not stopping don't worry babies. im hoping to put out 2-3 fics a week still!!!! keep sending in those requests! I have one more to work on, so to the anon who requested it its coming i promise my love!!!!

ALSO i did kind of make this a personal fic im so sorry LMAO basically i just explain how when i finally realized i was gay YAYAYA !!!!!!! but yeah warning again the reader in this is based on me so it is like finding out you're into girls later on kind of thing so if this is something you're not interested in feel free to skip! I hope you like it lucy!!! (idk if that's your real name im just going to call u that teehee) i love you all so much! muah

✿ as always, please remember to keep spreading information on and support Palestine!!

daily click

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you anxiously played with your fingers as the last of the party guest gathered around the huge circle. your friends and you decided to spend your saturday night at one of your classmates party, resulting in you now dreading your turn in the 'truth or dare' game.

"you okay?" you turn your head to your left as your eyes land on your friend, who clearly could pick up on how nervous you looked.

"yeah i'm fine," you tell her. "just hope i don't have to do anything stupid or embarrassing. she laughs at your comment.

"don't worry, i doubt you'll even get picked. there's a lot of people here and were all drunk so, who cares!'. her shouts fills the room, drawing a couple eyes toward the two of you. you giggle and hide your face, trying to tell her to keep it down. in the midst of shushing her, your eyes graze the room, watching people roll their eyes at her behavior. but your eyes catch someone else's and you freeze.

ellie williams

she sends you a soft smile, a dark look in her eyes. you gulp and look away quickly. god, she was so hot you thought. you hope she couldn't how flustered she made you. you hope no one could. your whole life, you've always had no problems catching boys' attention. you could have a whoever, whenever, but with this luxury came its flaw. you never actually liked the boys you went out with, you just loved being loved, being in a relationship. you never understood why you felt that way, but just continued on normally, not giving yourself a chance to actually explore more about yourself. but when you first met ellie freshmen year, the feelings finally became visible, especially after finding out she was also into girls; however, you were still not sure if she felt the same. This caused you to once again burry your feelings and close yourself up. You were too scared, and way too sober to even try to talk to ellie.

suddenly, a loud voice can be heard yelling throughout the house. "truth or dare starting now in living room," on boy shouted. your palms became sweaty and you prayed that everyone would pick up on your uncomfortableness and just leave you alone. as always though, the world likes to work in funny ways, and you feel a large presence sit next to you and tap you on the shoulder.

"hey," the boy smiles, "cool if i sit here?" you just give me a simple nod of your head and continue your attention elsewhere, your thoughts interrupted once again. "you look good tonight, by the way". you turn back around, and give him a quiet thanks, and before he could respond, everyone around you begins to pick who will go first for the game.

after three or four people went, you began to grow annoyed. the man next to you could not take the hint, and you were the only person here not having a good time.

"alright williams," the room cheers silently, "truth or dare". your attention is now fully on ellie. she stares up at her friend who just picked on her, small smirk on her face as she answers with a confident dare. "hmmm," her friend hums out loud, looking around the room. you swear you see their eyes stop on yours for a second, before they get an idea. "i dare you to do 7 minutes in heaven," they pause and the room is filled with oooo's. your heart drops a bit. "a person of your choosing." now everyone was going crazy. everyone knew ellie was gay, and everyone knew she made every girl gay, so it was a pretty heavy dare.

ellie smiles up at her friend, sage you think their name is, before she slowly starts scanning the room. you quickly look down, hoping that your avoided eye contact would make you more invisible. your only focus now was watching your fidgeting fingers and giving back half asses answers to the man beside you who still will not shut up.

you hear ellie suck in her breathe before she slowly gets up from the ground. all you wanted to do in this moment was sink into the ground, not sure how you were going to handle seeing ellie pick another girl that isn't you and go fuck her in the closet. too deep in your thoughts, you don't hear the air leave your friends lungs as a certain someone stalks towards you. you only know ellie is right in front of you once you see the beat up sneakers sneak right under your vision.

your eyes widen and you cant breathe. there has to be someone behind you right? no, she could not pick you. in fear that you would be disappointed when looking up, you keep your head down, telling yourself that you're just-

your friend next to you quietly says your name, excitement laced in her voice. she was the only one you told, the only one you could trust with something so personal to you, so to say she was absolutely ecstatic to see ellie pick her best friend, well that was an understatement.

after your quick reality check, your line of vision trails from the top of her feet, all the way to her line of vision, where you see hear towering over you, smirk on her face. you felt like you were going to throw up.

"wanna come with me?" she asks you, that little smile never leaving her face. you look around the room, everyone in just as much shock as you. you look back at ellie, and without thinking twice, you nod your head yes.

she grabs her hand out for you to take, and you two make your way into the closet in between the living room and kitchen, but not before ellie yells something along the lines of keep yourselves busy, and don't be pervs. you feel like you're dreaming, you can't believe ellie williams picked you. but suddenly, you're brought back into reality when she closes the closet and turns on her phone flashlight.

"so," she begins, "how's your night been." you now grow extremely insecure at how little you've been talking to her, not knowing exactly what to do next considering you've never been with a girl.

"oh uh," you begin, "it's been okay. what about yours?" stupid stupid stupid.

"pretty good. saw that guy talking to you. you looked uncomfortable so thought i would save you." she gives a light giggle, but your heart drops and you look at her with sad eyes.

"oh uh yeah haha thanks," you attempt to say, sadness clearly laced in your voice. ellie picks up on it.

"are you okay? did he do anything?" she asks you, coming closer, concern reading all over her face. you blush at how much she cares about you.

"no, no, he didn't do anything, just was annoying," you let out a breathy laugh. "i guess i just thought that we were gonna, ya know, since you picked me, um, never mind this is stupid." your cheeks are now red with embarrassment, and ellies face softens at your rambling.

"aw, no sweetie. just because i picked you doesn't mean we have to do anything. i know you're not into girls." she gives you a friendly tap on the shoulder. ouch. your heart has now sank completely, and you slowly go to reach for the closet door handle. ellie looks confused, before she panics and grabs your hand.

"where are you going? it hasnt been 7 minutes yet sweetheart," she asks you.

"i was just gonna go back. kinda boring just doing nothing here." you tell her sadly.

"well, what do you want to do?" she still hasn't caught on? at this point, you feel like you will never get another chance again. with your ego still a little boosted that she chose you, you answer her.

"i wanna kiss you, ellie," you tell her. she freezes in the spot she's in before she slowly relaxes and relief washes over her face.

"i wanna kiss you too." she tells you. you look up at her, hope in your eyes, and she slowly grabs yours chin with her fingers and pulls you towards her. your lips meet and you both slowly start to make out. now you know why it was called 7 minutes in heaven. pleasure rushed through your body, and you instantly melted into the kiss. it was the first time you actually felt something when kissing someone, and in the bliss of this new feeling, you now put your arms around her shoulders.

the kiss deepens and turns more sinful as ellies hands now trail down to your ass and give it a light squeeze. you moan into her mouth and she groans back in response. her hands now start exploring your body, covering every inch of you until they make their way down towards your loose jeans. you quickly pull away, feeling like a complete virgin even though this kind of stuff is nothing new to you.

"woah, hey, you okay? we can stop if you want," ellie tells you, scared that she may have gone too far.

"no ellie its not you, its just," you try to find the right words. "i've never actually been with a girl before." you tell her, shame written all over your features. she lightly grabs your face once more as she gives you another passionate kiss.

"im happy to help you through it, and if you ever want me to stop, you just tell me." she explains, leaving light kisses all over you exposed next and chest. you moan out as you give her your permission to continue. her lips find her way back to yours, taking control of the kiss. in between each breath, she made sure to tell you how beautiful you were, and how much she had been dreaming of this. you return the compliments, gasping when ellie now picks you up and leans you down on the closet floor.

now on top, she puts all her weight on her elbow, as the other one trails down from your chest, then your stomach, to finally the place where you needed her the most. still kissing you, her fingers undo your buttons. once your jeans were shoved down, and your panties moved to the side, ellie breaks the kiss.

you whine from the loss of contact, and she shushes you. "is it ok if i touch you?" she asks you politely.

"yes, ellie. please touch me," you beg her. "want you so bad." her lips suddenly reconnect with yours, and her fingers start rubbing light circles on your clit. you moan as she teases you, never feeling this way with any guy you've ever been with.

"you make the prettiest noises," she tells you, nipping at your lips. "fuck, and you're so wet too." her talking alone brings you even closer to your high, another new feeling.

you feel her fingers now trail down and tease your entrance, making the most sinful sound. she bites her lips, then starts pumping two fingers inside of you.

your eyes now roll to the back of your head and ellie falls to your side, the new position allowing her to finger you even faster. your head leans into her shoulder, and tears brim in your eyes from how good shes making you feel.

"faster, please," you beg, now staring into her eyes. the innocent look on your face causes her pussy the clench.

"yeah baby? you want me to go faster?" she teases you. "ill do anything for you beautiful." that was enough to send you over the edge, and you start to shake and she speeds up her motions.

"els" is all you can get out, but she knows exactly what you're trying to say, telling you to let go and cum all over her fingers.

and you're about to, until you hear yelling outside the closest door, and people are banging on your door, telling you seven minutes has passed.

you and ellie groan, and you're about to scream out of frustration, before ellies low voice cuts you off.

"i want you to get dressed and meet me outside my car, we can finish this at me." she tells you, a loving look on her face. you giggle and give her a quick peck, before jumping up and putting on your clothes.

you two come out of the closet, rushing towards the front door, completely ignoring all your friends and strangers random questions flying your way.

"where are they going?"

"are they holding hands?"

"do you think they did anything?"

"they so fucked."

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✿ a/n: heh, they came out the closet. anyways, like i said, very personalized im sorry i hit my penjamin and im in my feels but i really hope you guys liked it! my requests are still open! love you all so much and don't forget to follow because i post frequently!! <3

[hoseoksluna]

PRACTICE | jjk

pairing: dom!jungkook x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.9k

summary: you make jungkook proud by practicing what he taught you.

warnings: jungkook smiling and being all dominant!!!, also manly as fuck, use of his korean name cuz it's hot, masturbation, reader is horny and just a girl!!, biker mask (gasp), edging, orgasm denial, oral sex (f. receiving), dom/sub dynamics, squirting, desperation, porn, use of a sex toy, brief nipple play, spanking, bratty behavior <3, degradation, praise, the beauty of cumming together, mentions of sex, aftercare

note: it's entirely jungkook's fault that i wrote this bc he made me h word. i hope you enjoy the very first of the many smutty one shots i'm planning to write!! i had the time of my life writing this, imagining 3D!jungkook cuz he's just so delicious there. my weakness. fuck my life!! pls let me know what you think <3 like and comment (reblogs r very useful but i won't pressure u angel). love you!!

side note: i rly fucking miss jungkook. that's all. byebye

Stars fill your vision as your hand works wonders between the softness of your legs. You are fucked. Oh so deliciously, majestically and colossally fucked. And you whimper once the wave of that pleasure you burn for unfolds within your body. Arch your back. Roll your hips. Huff and puff until you near your breaking point. Then you lift your hand. 

The surge ebbs away and you sink your teeth into your puffy bottom lip, desperation scorching each and every perimeter of your skin.

You enjoy this. The smug on your face couldn’t be wiped off even if you tried. You've been going at this for a dozen of minutes, sitting on your dark green couch with your legs spread, one hand rubbing circles on your needy bundle of nerves, the other gripping your phone with all its might, how it hasn’t cramped yet is beyond you, as it plays a dirty porn that does very little to quench your thirst. Your closest friend for the time being, have been ‘for the time being’ for much longer than you care to admit, a small pink vibrator Pinkie, keeps you company beside you while you swallow every grunt and whimper the couple in the video makes. It's turned off, however. Resting in the shadow of the threatening calamite that your shaking thighs are. You can't edge yourself with it when you're this fucked, so deeply lost in the rosy maze of lust. You would have to keep the head on your clit for merely a second, otherwise you'd be coming, and you'd be coming fast but not very hard. And where’s the fun in that? It still keeps you thirsty, your insides begging you again and again for another hit of dopamine, for just one drop of cum. Well, your pussy mainly.

It’s a persistent problem for you. You get horny, you touch yourself and you come under two minutes or less. The hit so small in quantity, so weak in quality that you inescapably need more than one round to be satisfied. The situation is even more problematic when you get down to it with your boyfriend. It doesn’t matter much when you’re on the receiving end; you enjoy yourself, you look forward to his dick splitting you open, so it just cuts time. Although it does matter when he fucks you like the man he is. You clamp down on him, and he comes as fast as you do. You can’t help it. You’re so enamored with him, with his masculinity and his dominance, it burns your body alive. Who are you to tell your body no? It’s impossible. He’s impossible, and absolutely irresistible. Though you wish you could get lost in the pleasure, and you truly do each time you have sex, and it gets unfairly swept away from you. You’re just a thirsty girl. This unjust treatment pisses you off.

You opened up to your boyfriend about this and he laughed in your face, stroking your cheek. Told you it’s what he loves about you and you just rolled your eyes, dismissing it. Then he took your hand and sat you down again, offering you a solution that changed your life. For the worst at first, for the better the more you did it.

He suggested you try edging yourself when you play with your pussy. He showed you the ropes the first time, guiding you through a long process of denied orgasms, and you wanted to strangle him. You had to lift your hand when he said so, otherwise you were getting spanked. The joke was on him because you enjoyed the harsh sting, the roughness of his palm on your skin. But then it was him who was laughing when he pinned your arms above your head and confiscated your pleasure. You squirmed. Whined. Waited. Then he fingered you and you came so hard you saw stars, the orgasm just kept going and going. You were satisfied after one round. Problem fixed.

“Practice it until your body learns,” he had told you and you almost came again.

What a man.

The memory of this teaching lesson is what got you thirsty right now, actually. 

You pay attention to the way the guy in the video squishes the tits of the lucky girl in the video and fucks them with his cock. You moan, lowering your fingers to your clit again and starting a series of slow circles. Your fingers are slippery from your leaking essence and the sweat on your folds from your marvelous torment, and it turns you on even more. You feel your orgasm coming, despite your pace, and you eat your fist in exasperation. Should you say fuck it and finally make yourself come? You hear the order uttered by your boyfriend in the back of your head, remember how long he told you to edge for that one time, and you want to make him proud (you do!), but then the girl licks at the slit of his cock and you clench around nothing. You want that so bad and you groan, anger and desperation creating something so sinful, so unhinged inside of you.

Resuming your movement on your bud, you pick up the pace because fuck it, you can’t take it anymore. The pressure, the anticipation of chasing after what you desire is so sweet and it fills you with energy and giddiness. Fuck jogging, now you're sprinting, clenching your muscles, nearing closer and closer to the finish line. You lift your knees, riding your hand, moans spilling from your mouth. You'd come right on the spot if it wasn't for the ding of a sudden text message snapping you out of your daze.

Your heart thuds in your chest. Fuck, did you not turn on 'do not disturb'?

koo: I'm here

You stare at the notification in disbelief. Beneath it, the guy is fucking the girl's throat. You screech, burying your face in your hands. What is your boyfriend doing here so early? You aren't supposed to see each other until later tonight, or are you forgetting something? Your mind is spinning, another denied orgasm taking a toll on you. Sighing, you slip your legs into your panties and your plush pajama pants, your feet finding their comfort in your fluffy slippers. Since he's here, he's gonna make himself extremely useful, you decide, putting on your warm bathrobe with Mickey Mouse on it and grabbing your keys.

As you descend the stairs from your apartment, the sticky wetness between your legs makes you uncomfortable. Your eyebrows furrow in anger. Does a girl really have to suffer in order to reach a mind-blowing orgasm these days? You scoff to yourself, sinking your key into the lock of the door to the main building. The key doesn't budge, though, and it almost makes you punch that fucking door. The lock has been sporadically working and not working for months, hence why the door needs to stay locked properly at all times, and nobody has so far taken the time to call someone to repair it. You kick the door with your knee and you hear a laugh behind it. You recognize it belongs to your boyfriend and you smile to yourself, finding the sweet sound stupidly cute. Your hand reaches for the key again and you turn it. To your surprise, the lock doesn't fuck around and actually lets you see your boyfriend.

Jeongguk is standing beside his motorcycle, black helmet under his armpit. Your eyes widen when they discover his face is hidden under a biker mask of the same color. You haven’t seen him with his bike in quite some while. He prefers to drive you around in his car lately. It’s winter after all. He keeps you warm, sneaks his fingers between your legs, rubs your pussy through your jeans to tease you because he likes it when you’re needy for the rest of the evening. Oh, and you eat there so icicles don’t hang from your hands. Food, that is. You get it.

It’s a wonderful surprise, nonetheless. Only his orbs and eyebrows are visible, his pouty mouth creates shapes on the mask that almost causes you to see stars again. Yeah, you think you could come like this, staring at his tall figure dressed in a puffer jacket and gray baggy jeans laying dangerously low on his hips. Even though you know how big his dick is, the size of them makes him appear even bigger and you salivate. Your pussy drools, too. You're about to get on your knees right now, you don't care.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to fix that fucking lock myself," Jeongguk remarks.

Oh, fuck. He's so manly.

Just one suck. Fuck, please. Just one.

You're going to scrape your fucking knees on the ground for everyone to see, you genuinely don't care. He deserves it for looking like that, for acting like such a man.

Your clit gains a heartbeat (again) and you blink up at him, desperation once again unfurling its flames under your skin. You smile behind the pain, finding the whole situation completely ridiculous now.

"I'd be grateful," you purr and Jeongguk walks towards you, smiling like the little shit he is, helmet still under his armpit. You lift the hem of his mask to reveal his delicious lips, piercing-less. You kiss him, moonstruck. "I'm tired of this shitty lock."

Jeongguk nods. "Noted." Then he kisses you again. "It was funny how you kicked it."

You laugh. He takes off the mask entirely and you both walk up the stairs to your apartment, though a pang of disappointment hangs onto your heart. You wish he kept the mask on. It was nonsensically hot to you. A lightbulb flares to life in your mind abruptly and you hide your smirk beneath the curtain of your hair.

Yeah, you’re going to make him wear it as you suck him dry.

Your giddiness extends to another level and you hurriedly walk up the rest of the stairs to your apartment, your butt jiggling under your thick robe.

Jeongguk walks in like he owns the place. He sets his helmet on the kitchen island and his mask right beside it. You watch as he empties out his pockets. Wallet, phone, keys, a pack of cigarettes and a purple lighter. Leaning over, he hangs his winter jacket on one of the barstools. His back muscles ripple under his oversized black T-shirt with each movement of his arms. What steals your attention, however, is the sliver of skin that he unwittingly lets you see as he fixes his jeans to rest a little higher on his hips. 

White Calvins. 

Oh, yes. 

The dip of his spine on his lower back.

You lick your lips.

The smallness of his waist that grows into such a vulgar broadness of his shoulders. 

Fuck, you do everything you can to not bite onto your finger; instead you opt to hide your drool beneath your hand as you continue to wait behind him, tracing your lower lip with the acrylic nail on your thumb, diabolical with your stand and your plan. Crossed arms, needy pussy and all.

What a man.

What a fucking man.

You squeeze your thighs together.

When he turns away from the kitchen, you leap to the counter. You snatch the mask and gaze at it lovingly. Such an innocent thing, and it made you this hot and bothered. You shake your head at the bizarreness of it all, but your smile remains.

"What the fuck were you doing here?"

You gasp at the sternness in his tone, hiding the mask under your armpit similarly like he did with his helmet downstairs. You don't understand where his abrupt austerity stems from, but it makes your legs wobbly, so much that you bump into him as you hurry to see what he sees, grabbing his arm as if to say sorry. And then your heart drops.

A round wet spot adorns your dark green couch, where you sat and pleasured yourself before he came. Your best friend Pinkie, sticky and lifeless, almost beams at you in mischief. A smile of your own begins to quiver on your lips before you burst into giggles, a tiny amount of shyness painting your cheeks with rosiness.

“I was practicing?” you answer truthfully, lilting your voice a little bit.

Jeongguk closes his eyes at your words, his lips forming a thin line. Hangs his head. Slouches in your grip. It is a stark contrast to how he entered your apartment. His breath quickens and you watch the raise and the fall of his chest. You realize this means only one thing.

"Are you crazy?" Jeongguk says, eyes still closed. "Do you even realize what you've just done to me?"

He finally looks at you and your heart drops further down your belly. Fire splashes around in his eyes, akin to yours. He straightens his posture, turning his body to face you. Feet spread apart, he crosses his arms across his chest. Veins prominent, muscles like strings oscillating on his forearm as he taps his fingers on his elbow.

Your weakness.

Fuck.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"And what's this?" He points to what you stole from him. He doesn't take it from you.

You suddenly remember your plan. Being so absorbed in his masculine energy, you forgot everything. Even your own name. 

"Well, I had this idea," you start.

He hums in interest. Butterflies break havoc in your stomach.

"And what idea was that?" He cocks his head to the side, studying you.

You started, but you don't think you can finish. Not when you're so wet that you can feel your slick trickle out of the confines of your thin panties. Not when his stance makes you feel like you did something very bad and the next word that comes out of your mouth decides your punishment. Not when it thrills you this much.

Swallowing dryly, you avert your gaze. Do you say it or do you play dumb? Sweat prickles at the back of your neck, eyes falling to his crotch. Those cursed fucking jeans do a poor job of hiding his growing member and you tremble, itching to sink onto the hardwood floor, itching to palm him through the harsh fabric just to hear him hiss through his teeth. The impulse to do it, to simply be a brat and do what you want while he stares you down, fills your every vein, but you know better. Once you hit a nerve, Jeongguk doesn’t let you cum (at all) and you can’t sit on your bottom for a week. You can’t afford that right now.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You need your relief, and you need it desperately. You will behave if it means you’ll receive it from him.

"I was thinking," you mutter, fluttering your eyelashes open. “You could put this on while I make you feel good."

Nodding once, Jeongguk hums again. You feel the deep vibrations of his voice coursing down your body, starting from your cheeks. They warm them and paint them in pink, then they continue over the swell of your chest, leaving behind little pearls of sweat, until they reach your cunt. There they strengthen the pulse of your needy bud and you can’t take it anymore. You sigh audibly, hoping it prompts your boyfriend to do something. 

“Make me feel good how?” he questions you.

You look up at him. His eyes are lowered into slits, woozy from arousal. You truly did turn him on with the mere evidence of your self-indulgence. You buzz from this achievement, a puckish smirk appearing on your mouth. 

Jeongguk pries the mask away from your hold, keeps it in his grasp and with his other hand, he unravels the knot of your robe with his fingers, sliding it off your shoulders. He cocks his eyebrow at you, waiting for your answer.

Fuck it, you’re giving it your all. Anything to get fucked in the way you want, in the way you know he can give it to you.

“I get on my knees for you. Play with your tip, take you as far as I can until I choke on it, then I suck on your—“

He grabs your chin harshly and raises it to his level. That’s enough, he said with that gesture and you leak down your thighs. No matter how strongly the words, ‘can I finish my fucking sentence’ hangs off the top of your tongue, you remain quiet. Obedient.

He cups your pussy through your pajama pants with his other hand, inching closer to you until his figure swallows you. His soft moan reaches your ear once he discovers how slippery your pussy is against your silky underwear and your stomach flips. You, on the other hand, don’t feel much where you need him due to the thickness of the material. It adds to your frustration quite plenty, though. This what you get for being good? 

Inhaling deeply, he levels his eyesight with yours. “How many times did you come, hm?”

Your breath hitches and you lower your eyes, shyness caused from his dominance taking every bit of confidence you had left. His words blaze your insides—he knows you so well. He knows how obsessed you’ve become with playing with yourself ever since he told you to practice. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. The latter being more frequent, hence why you exerted yourself today. He knows this. For some reason it makes this moment even more intimate and stimulating for you. But you don’t let him know that. 

“What makes you think I lost this time?” you retort, the brattiness slipping through before you could control it.

His fingers aren’t doing nearly enough to give you the relief you seek and you whine, grinding your hips against his curious fingers. Much to your dismay, he still keeps his pressure light. Pretends to be blind to your desperation. You let out a huff of air, hooking your thumbs beneath the waistband of your pants, anger fueling you on.

You barely manage to pull it down before Jeongguk turns you around. He locks your arms in his grasp from behind, tugs the pants beneath the swell of your ass and smacks your cheek, leaving a rippling effect in its wake. He then grabs your face from behind to make you look at him. 

“Did I fucking ask you to take ‘em off?”

You’d come on the spot if you could. But you’re still angry.

“No, I asked you a simple question,” Jeongguk continues. “And I expect you to answer.”

You bite your lip and furrow your eyebrows. “Jeongguk, I’m so wet there’s a fucking puddle in my panties. I can’t take it anymore. Please, I need to come.”

Jeongguk raises his at your answer and hums lowly, grinding his hips into your ass and arching your back even further in this position. You moan distinctly at the feeling of his member, engorged and hard. 

Jeongguk lets go of your arms and presses you against him fully, lowering his hand to wrap his fingers around your throat, the other around your middle. You love it like this the most, cocooned in his embrace from behind—you can’t see him, but you can feel him, you can feel the firmness of his touch, the solidness of his body, and you know he’s there. 

“How many times?” he asks once again, more gently this time, lips tracing the shape of your ear. He rubs your belly to soothe you and you close your eyes, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. A smile, a mischievous one, much like the one your best friend Pinkie had, threatens to appear on your lips. He has turned into a soft dom for you and it makes you weak. So much that all you want to do right now is give him pleasure.

You begin to rotate your hips against him and he hisses, cursing under his breath. Yes, that’s precisely what you wanted to hear. You put more pressure into your movement and he slides your hand down your mound to stop you, his tongue coming to play with your ear.  Fuck, okay. You listen, transferring your teasing elsewhere.

“Zero,” you finally answer, figuring he deserves the reward.

Jeongguk grabs your shoulders and turns you around, pinching his eyebrows together. “Don’t believe you. There’s no fucking way you’d leave it wet like that without coming at least three—“

“I was about to come before you so rudely interrupted me.”

His eyes darken and you realize you fucked up.

He takes his hands off of you and starts walking, causing you to walk backwards to your couch. 

“My apologies.” He pushes you to sit down on the soiled spot, taking a seat right in front of you on the coffee table. “Don’t let me interrupt you any further. Please“—He hooks his fingers under your pajama pants along with your underwear and takes it off in one go—“continue. Make yourself come.”

You gulp. Fuck, if that isn’t the hottest thing you ever heard.

He scoots closer to you on the coffee table and extends your legs over his. You ogle him. The manspread, the tent in his pants, the serious look on his face. You slip your hand to your clit and start rubbing, your eyes closing as pleasure floods you. Finally. You moan, and you moan loudly. 

“Nuh-uh.”

You sigh before you open your eyes. There he goes, interrupting you again. A familiar buzzing fills your ears. 

You startle as the highest setting tickles your hand in an uncomfortable way. Jeongguk, wearing the mask now, wraps your hand around the vibrator and guides it to your clit, interlacing his fingers with yours in the process. Fuck, he did not just do that. You’re moaning before it even reaches you, your walls clenching around nothing.

“There you go,” he lifts his intense gaze from your pussy to your eyes. “Now come.”

And you do.

You squirt all over your intertwined hands, squirming uncontrollably while holding eye contact with him until he controls you, sliding his other free hand to your waist to hold you down. He moves the vibrator to your slit to give your puffy clit a break, collecting your juices. Then, another wave comes: Jeongguk slips the head back to your clit and presses down hard before quickly fixing a steady rhythm of going up and down. You’re just holding it, holding his hand. Taking the pleasure he gives you. Convulsing, clenching and screaming, coming so hard your eyes roll back—stars finally coming to stay.

Then, you’re pushing him away when overstimulation perfuses your body with a blunt pain. You close your legs. You thrash with yourself. But he’s stronger. The hand that was on your waist lifts up your bralette and uncovers your tits. The same fingers plunge into your mouth and you suck on them, calming down, earning an appreciative hum from him. He flicks your nipple, touches your breast, the nub deliciously rubbing against his rough palm. Pushes your other one to the mix so he can focus on both of your nipples at once, holds them like that as they bounce in his grip. You lift your pelvis, furiously riding the wave of an upcoming orgasm that will probably take you out.

You lose the sense of time and space when you come for the third time.

You’re gushing, leaking, bursting, both hands—yours and his—dripping wet with your dewiness. You think you’re levitating, but his firm touch grounds you, and when you open your eyes, Jeongguk is breathing hard. He’s watching you thoroughly; you can’t tell what he’s thinking, features still hidden by that mask. Your mind is empty, incapable of forming one coherent thought. You’re completely brainless. Fucked out.

Jeongguk gets on his knees and leans towards you. He tears his mask off, sweat pooling at his hairline.

“How pitiful,” he smiles. “So much for practicing.”

He gives you a filthy kiss full of tongue and you roll your body against his. His chest rubs against your nipples and it sends sparks of electricity through you. 

“You wouldn’t last. Not a chance.”

You groan into his mouth. He’s so close that his musky scent is intoxicating you, his T-shirt is wet and your core is pressed against the one part of his stomach that the cloth exposed. It’s so warm and soul-stirring to you. You whine from the overstimulation of it all, especially the degradation. 

“Jeongguk, I came so hard,” you tell him, coming up for some air.

He kisses your jaw. “I know. So fucking hot.” Takes his groans and presses them in the form of kisses into all the sensitive spots of your neck. “You made yourself come this hard, I’m proud.”

You moan. So moonstruck. So enamored. So satisfied.

Jeongguk lifts his head from the crook of your neck and grins at you. You reciprocate.

“That was so good,” you whisper and bite your lip, stroking his hair back. You find you’ve broken the skin already, but you don’t mind. “So, so good.”

His eyes drop to your mouth, then at the pearls of your pleasure on your chest.

“So filthy. Need to clean you up.”

Your stomach flips. 

He laps them up, collecting them with his tongue. One at the top of your sternum, the middle of your breasts, the long dip on your stomach. Pearl after pearl, butterfly after butterly breaking havoc again in you. You’re swaying your hips before he even gets to your mound.

“Needy again? I haven’t finished here yet.”

A little, but not as desperately as before. You’re enjoying it. Feels as though you’re allowed to. And you tell him.

He smiles. Starts a series of open-mouthed kisses on your inner thigh. Sighs against your skin when you play with his hair, gently scratch his scalp with your manicured nails. Rubs your wet thighs, sucking the skin and biting it. Hard and soft, the blend of it. You’re on cloud nine.

“Gonna reward you,” he announces. You suck in your stomach, biting your lip. He touches your cunt and the digits just glide. Straight to your hole that needs his cum. “For doing such a good job. Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He rubs it in circles, teasing you. Watches your reaction. You throw your head back, moving your hips in tandem with the pads of his fingers. Soaked enough, he slips them into your mouth so you can taste yourself. You mewl. Sense his hot breath on your pussy. Sense him shifting in his spot erratically and you figure he’s grinding his hard cock against the couch. 

“My turn now.” 

He closes his puffy lips around your clit. Swirls the tip of his tongue around it. Merry go round, you throw your head back, enjoying the sensation. Then he puts pressure around the muscle and goes counterclockwise. Now you’re spinning, unable to stop the sounds, inter-threaded with his name, from slipping out of your mouth. Then he decides to tease you. Widens his laps of circles. Reaches your folds, makes them wetter. And it makes you feral, the waiting for the pleasure. You grip his hair, grinding into his face. His moans reach your ears again, and suddenly it’s too much. He sucks on your clit, and he sucks hard. Lifts your hips in the air and just ravages your cunt, licking up and swallowing all that you’re offering to him as he fucks his cock into the couch. 

He’s grunting, rapidly shaking his head from side to side. You’re obscenely loud. His thrusts quicken as do the skilled flicks of his tongue. It’s way too fucking much and you’re screaming, but you let him. You let him until he rams his hips for the last time, until he sucks so hard that your hearing sense leaves you for a moment, and you’re coming. And so is he. 

You don’t even know how long it takes before you fully come down, but you know one thing for sure. That when he stands up and you’re blessed with the sight of his unbuttoned jeans, his cock dripping with last drops of cum through his white (almost see-through) underwear, he deserves to be cleaned up by you just the same. 

You make grabby hands at him when he returns with wet wipes.

“What is it, baby?” He sinks to his knees in front of you, taking out the wipe to clean you properly. 

“Need you in my mouth. Please.” 

He laughs softly and you think that sound will be your demise. 

“You’re exhausted,” he tells you, wiping down your folds. “What you need is sleep.” 

You don’t have the strength to prove him wrong. You’re spent. 

He picks you up in his arms and takes you to your bed. He covers you in your fluffy blanket, knowing full well you hate to be under the duvet when you’re just napping. Tucks you in. Sits beside you. Brushes your hair back. Fixes the blanket so it rests under your chin, and not over your mouth. You watch him with droopy eyes as he does it all.

“Did so well today,” he murmurs. “But no overworking yourself so much next time, arasseo?”

You nod. “We came together again.” 

He traces the dimple on your cheek caused by your contended smile. Finds himself smiling too. “That’s just how our bodies work together,” he tells you, hovering his thumb over your bloodied lip so as to not hurt you. “Can’t be helped.” 

You nod again, warmth swarming in your chest. “I love it,” you admit. “I love you.”

Jeongguk presses a kiss into your hair. “No, I love you.”

“No.”

He shushes you. “Sleep well, baby,” he strokes you. Kisses you. Pets you. Can’t get enough. Hates to leave you. “My baby, my love, my girl.” 

You hum. Sleep slinks you away to its land, smile remaining on your mouth. 

Jeongguk returns to your living room and gets some cleaning supplies ready. Breaks a sweat making your dark green couch spotless. Takes a shower. Settles beside you on the bed. Cocoons you in his arms. Looks for you in dreamland.

© 2023 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

[f1rodrigo]

the mclaren boy mystery | part two

l. norris / o. piastri

summary: in which your boyfriend is a formula one driver for team mclaren and when you finally decide it's time to start hinting to the world, the internet is confused on exactly which driver is your boyfriend. pairing: social media au || lando norris / oscar piastri x reader fc: jazmyn makenna

a/n: sorry this took a little longer than i expected! it was so fun to make though. i didn't want to say who she's actually with because i feel like it's fun for the readers to have to figure that out too! so please share any guesses you have lol i'm interested to see what people think the outcome will be. hope you enjoy and thank you sm for reading<3

part one | part three

sweet relief series | valentine's day drabble

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。

liked by yourbrother, maxverstappen1, and 101,225 others

yourusername happy birthday to my favorite brother, i love you and am so grateful to know i have someone in my life who looks after me like you do<3 here's my fav pics of us of course they're all racing related lol, our first love

view all 982 comments

yourbrother "my favorite brother"... As far as I know I am your only brother 😐

⤷ yourusername 🥱🥱🥱🥱 technicalities

yourbrother Thank you least favorite sister, miss those days. Have to get back out on the karting track, been too long since I've beaten you

⤷ yourusername been too long since you've been beaten, you mean?

⤷ yourbrother Yeah, yeah we'll let the track times speak for themselves

⤷ user1 ok but we have to admit the brother sister banter is kind of adorable

⤷ user2 no bc she seems so sweet 😭

user3 nah because what is max verstappen doing in this girls likes now????

⤷ user4 and the plot thickens 😯

user5 she saw everyone calling her a fake f1 fan and said take a look at this

user6 yn hater club how you guys feeling right about now

⤷ user7 🤡🤡🤡🤡

user8 honestly kind of hope she's dating one of them

⤷ user9 yall switch up so fast please 😭😭

user10 seriously..... you HAD to only post f1 related photos lmfao so totally pandering to the landoscar fans

user11 f1 school of wags next graduate

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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。

liked by mclaren, yourusername, and 1,891,218 others

landonorris DOUBLE PODIUM!!!!!!!! couldn't have asked for a better race, congrats @/oscarpiastri and a huge thanks as always to @/mclaren 🧡

view all 5,871 comments

user1 I SAY THATS MY BABY AND IM SO PROUD 😭

user2 mclaren double podium... oh i used to pray for times like these

user3 oscar piastri you are insane omfg

user4 MY POOKIES LOOK AT THEM !!!!!!!!! 🫂

user5 save me landoscar SAVE ME

yourusername jumping up and down screaming and crying losing my mind

⤷ landonorris you should probably get that checked out....

⤷ user6 THATS IT, ITS YN AND LANDO IM CALLING IT

⤷ user7 nah nah nah this is so giving gf of the bestie banter

⤷ user8 agreed hopping on the oscaryn train 💪🏻

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yourusername added to their story

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。

oscarpiastri added to their story

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。

liked by kellypiquet, oscarpiastri, and 789,012 others

yourusername qatar gp smiles <3 practice timeeee

📸 @/kellypiquet

view all 1,281 comments

kellypiquet so beautiful

⤷ yourusername all you

landonorris eye spy a mclaren car down there?

⤷ yourusername ? i just see a tractor

⤷ landonorris not funny. 😐

⤷ yourusername i certainly laughed

⤷ oscarpiastri same actually

⤷ user1 i dont know how much longer i can take this

⤷ user2 GUYSSSS i am telling you its so oscaryn

⤷ user3 WHAT literally look at the Proof its so landoyn 🥱

⤷ user4 i am giggling we're literally in a shipwar

user5 she's so pretty i'm sorry guys i love her 😵‍💫

⤷ user6 well yes!

user7 patiently waiting for one of the mcl boys to main feed post her then we know for sure ‼️

⤷ user8 at this rate it still won't clear anything up

lilymhe miss u beautiful

⤷ yourusername omg i miss u more ms lily

⤷ user9 she has The wag stamp of approval WE MOVE!

user10 theres four e's at the end of 'time'....... landos number is 4 i've got it guys 😃😃

⤷ user11 seek medical attention STAT

⤷ user12 bro thinks this is a taylor swift album release

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。

liked by mclaren, landonorris, and 789,012 others

yourusername oscar piastri sprint race winner AND mclaren double podium, better start calling me the good luck charm

view all 1,281 comments

user1 nah bc you're onto something.....

user2 she can't be serious 😐

⤷ user3 well no shit it's just an instagram caption

user4 i cannot be the only one who finds the caption extremely weird

⤷ user5 nah i'm with you i've never liked her 🙄

⤷ user6 its just so odd like forcing yourself into the mclaren narrative completely taking away from the boys achievements writing it off as your own doing...

⤷ user7 omfg yall are so dramatic just say you're jealous they're not dating you lmfao

⤷ user8 no fr because it is not that serious it's clearly a joke like she loves them cmon now

mclaren BRB getting your paddock passes for the duration of the season

⤷ yourusername i'm giggling, i love you guys 😙

⤷ user9 see mclaren is fine with it so yall should be too

⤷ user10 now i'm going to need all the haters to sit DOWN and shut the fuck UP

oscarpiastri wait can you send me that picture

⤷ yourusername i literally did already but okay

⤷ oscarpiastri ok could do with less attitude

⤷ yourusername you have not seen real attitude piastri

⤷ oscarpiastri 😧

⤷ user11 i think this just converted me to team oscar

⤷ user12 nah this is literally landoyn confirmation

landonorris 🍀

⤷ user13 i am picking up what he's putting down

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part one | part three

sweet relief series | valentine's day drabble

taglist:

@landoscar-f1 , @urfavnoirette , @imsiriuslyreal

[ikiprian]

Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School is a popular YouTube series. Tucker Foley is a star student.

Barbara Gordon's Cram School posts free online courses for both coding and computer engineering. Think Crash Course in terms of entertainment, but college lecture in terms of depth. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flock to it— students who missed a class, people looking to add new skills to a resume, even simple hobbyists. It’s a project Barbara’s proud of.

Sometimes, when she wants to relax, she’ll even hop in the comments and spend an afternoon troubleshooting a viewer’s project with them.

User “Fryer-Tuck” has especially interesting ones. Barbara finds herself seeking out his comments, checking in on whatever this crazy kid is making next. An app for collecting GPS pings and assembling them on a map in real-time, an algorithm that connects geographic points to predict something’s movement taking a hundred other variables into account, simplified versions of incredibly complex homemade programs so they can run on incredibly limited CPU’s.

(Barbara wants to buy the kid a PC. It seems he’s got natural talent, but he keeps making reference to a PDA. Talk about 90’s! This guy’s hardware probably predates his birth.)

She chats with him more and more, switching to less public PM threads, and eventually, he opens up. His latest project, though, is not something Barbara has personal experience with.

FT: so if you found, hypothetically, a mysterious glowing substance that affects tech in weird and wacky ways that could totally have potential but might be vaguely sentient/otherworldly…. what would you do and how would you experiment with it. safely, of course. and hypothetically

BG: I’d make sure all my tests were in disposable devices and quarantined programs to keep it from infecting my important stuff. Dare I ask… how weird and wacky is it?

FT: uhhh. theoretically, a person composed of this substance once used it to enter a video game. like physical body, into the computer, onto the screen? moving around and talking and fighting enemies within the game?

FT: its been experimented with before, but not on any tech with a brain. just basic shields and blasters and stuff, its an energy source. also was put in a car once

FT: i wanna see how it affects software, yk? bc i already know it can. mess around and see how far i can push it

BG: […]

FT: … barbara?

BG: Sorry, thinking. Would you mind sharing more details? You said “blasters?”

Honestly. Kid genius with access to some truly wacky materials and even wackier weapons, she needs to start a file on him before he full sends to either hero or villain.

[OR: Tucker is a self-taught hacker, but if he were to credit a teacher, he'd name Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School! He's even caught the attention of Dr. Gordon herself. She's full of sage advice, and with how she preaches the value of a good VPN, he's sure she's not pro-government. Maybe she'll help him as he studies the many applications of ecto-tech!]

[igotlovestruck]

babe [ lando norris ]

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — lando norris x reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °.   *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — angst, some hate comments . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °.   *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ another one from the drafts! enjoy <3

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

f1wags

16,920 likes

f1wags y/n’s ig story update today! it seems as though lando norris is officially off the market as the 2020 season comes to an end, congratulations to the happy couple! 🥳❤️

view all 1,839 comments

user what omg

user from childhood bestie to fiancée 🥹 dang when’s it my turn!!!

user i just woke up wtf !!! congratulations mum and dad landonorris yourusername

december 15, 2020

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername how can i ever say no to that face 😟 you’re making our childhood dream come true 💘

view all 599 comments

user lando lmao 👉🏻🫦👈🏻

f1 congratulations, y/n and lando!

mclaren congratulations 🫡💒

yourbffsig omg bestie!! 😻 congrats, i love you both!!

yourusername you’re coming back home for our wedding 😤 i’m not taking no for an answer

yourbffsig as if i’m gonna say no!! 😤

december 16, 2020

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, alex_albon and others

landonorris promoted from boyfriend to fiancé! you can never get rid of me now, y/n y/l/n 😜 i love you!

view all 2,842 comments

maxfewtrell remember when you told me you were determined to make her a norris?

yourusername ugh hes so obsessed w me 🙄

maxfewtrell yeah it’s annoying 🤢

landonorris i hate you both, give me back the ring yourusername i unpropose to you

yourusername 😽😽

december 16, 2020

landonorris and yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, yourbffsig and 1,392,942 others

landonorris two years ago, we exchanged our vows on valentine’s 💗 happy valentine’s and 2nd anniversary, my hot, beautiful wife. to more adventures and years to us 🥂 i love you.

view all 21,839 comments

yourusername happy anniversary to us, my love!!

landonorris i’m still obsessed with you

yourusername when are you not baby 🤭

yourbffsig ugh u two disgust me but stay in love ig

user i still can’t believe lando is really off the market for two years now 😔

yourmomsig stay in love, you two!! 🤍

user will we be expecting baby norris this year? if no, why not 😭

yourusername no plans for baby norris yet! me and lando are children ourselves 😂

— ❤️ by landonorris

user dinks, my fav dinks.

user can u adopt me instead

february 14, 2023

f1wags

10,729 likes

f1wags we haven’t had a glimpse of y/n in the paddock the past few races, so here’s some throwback pictures with husband, lando norris! 🤍

view all 189 comments

user i miss her :(

user so i’m not going CRAZY for noticing that she hasn’t been to any races this season...

user maybe she’s pregnant or something

user nahh impossible, y/n herself said that they don’t have any plans for baby norris yet.

user right.. that could only be the plausible reason why she’s not attending races 🙄

user maybe she’s just busy with work, she has a career herself

user no bc think about it.. it’s already round 10 and we haven’t seen her since bahrain, not even during testing 💀

user well, silverstone’s up next. let’s just hope she’s there for lando’s home race

user we can just hope

july 02, 2023

f1gossip

5,930 likes

f1gossip y/n’s now deleted ig story today. wonder what’s happening between the young couple? 🤔

view all 193 comments

user NO WHAT

user I JUST WOEK UP WHAT IS THIS DRAMA

user MAYBE ITS JUST NOTHING PLS MAYBE SHES JIST LISTENING TO MUSIC I MEAN IT’S TAYLOR !!!! WJO DOESN’T LISTEN TO TAYLOR

user ...me... i don’t listen to taylor 😬

user what rhe heck u have to listen NOW

user miss maam r u ok yourusername

user not on silverstone weekend 😭

july 07, 2023

yourusername

el nido, palawan

liked by yourbffsig, yourmomsig and others

yourusername let the sea set you free

view all 749 comments

user miss maam we miss u around the paddock PLS COME BACK

user omg she got a tattoo 🥹 it looks so pretty

yourbffsig i hope you enjoyed your stay with me 🥺

yourusername duh, ofc!! was the most fun month of my life 💗 see you in bali ;)

yourbffsig OMG YES see you in a week, enjoy your remaining days in el nido 😽 love you and take care!!

yourmomsig my beautiful daughter, i love you whatever happens 🤍 glas you’re enjoying philippines x

yourusername aaaa love and miss you mum 🥹 be back soon <3

yoursistersig what about me 😒

yourusername stfu you’re literally coming to bali with me

yoursistersig oh yea lol

user the comments from y/n’s friends and family are scaring me (kinda)

user have u noticed that lando hasn’t commented anything or even leave a like ... i miss his obsessed hubby comments

user plus her last ig story 😓

user oh god pls dont do this to me

user are yall thinking what im thinking...?

user whatever you’re thinking, pls keep it to yourself PLS I CANNOT DO THIS.

user so... you’re m.i.a in silverstone?

july 08, 2023

landonorris

liked by f1, oscarpiastri, mclaren, lewishamilton and 1,613,093 others

landonorris p2 and a 🏆 at my home race!!!!! ❤️ you guys are crazyyyyyyyyyy 💙

view all 9,441 comments

mclaren proud 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

masonmount congrats brother!

maxfewtrell absolute scenes, proud brother 🧡

user no signs of y/n here ... 🤔

user ikr like where tf is she

user haven’t seen her since the beginning of this silly season

user she’s out there weeping while her husband’s winning 😹

yourusername

bali, indonesia

liked by yourbffsig, yourmomsig, f1wags and 153,920 others

yourusername crazy how time flies when you’re being yourself; careless and free 🍃

view all 490 comments

yourbffsig love the glow these days! miss you terribly 💔

yourusername don’t be dramatic, you’ll be here in a few days 😛

yourbffsig ��� let me be dramatic pls

user uh excuse me maam, you have some races to attend to?

user she’s not really obligated to attend lol let her live her life.

user uh she has a husband who she needs to support? duh? besides, whose money do you think she’s spending?

user y/n earns her own money, she has her own business even before she and lando tied the knot. she has a degree for that, icydk.

user all this time i thought she was a sahw lmfao

user the username of her business is literally on her bio, in case you haven’t seen it :)

yoursistersig love how you look in the first picture 😂 wearing shades because you cried all night?

yourusername i was drunk, in my defense.

yoursistersig yeah, you’re one drunk crier 😂

yourusername quit exposing me please 🥲

user no “congrats lando!”? no “p2 baby!!”? none? ok

user no cuz i rly thought she’d at least say congrats 😐

user imagine securing a podium on ur home race and ur wife cant congratulate u lmao sad life for lando norris

user i hope you’re ignoring the hate comments and healing, y/n ❤️ your peace of mind comes first over everything

user she knew what she was getting into when she married lando, she should be tough enough to read the comments 😂

f1wags

12,420 likes

f1wags updates on lando & y/n! seems like their fairytale love story is over which is why we haven’t seen y/n lately every race weekend!

view all 3,826 comments

user um what

user not them 💔

user omg i feel bad for y/n

user everything probably took a toll on her mental health

user i hope she’s healing and resting, also i hope she’s not pressuring herself on healing :(

user from strangers to childhood besties to lovers to strangers again :/

user damn this hit hard

user dont do this to me please.

user i knew the caption on her last post meant something 😭

[court-jobi]

Reheat

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @gsony24))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader (support-hero!reader x teacher Izuku)

Words: 2.5k

Rating: G~

Warnings: comfort fic, tooth-rotting fluff here y'all, established relationship, work stress (livin' vicariously), talks of the future, a few fem pronouns used, but generally gender-neutral

Summary:

Izuku letting himself into your home after a long day has become comfortable background noise, and one you love to hear while you're bogged down. Work has been following you home all week. He's proud of you, without a doubt... But equally concerned when he sees your dinner half-eaten, your mind scatterbrained and racing faster than he can anchor you, and your angel eyes in desperate need of some TLC. He's cemented his place in your heart- and sees no reason he can't make himself at home here already.

A/N: do I have bigger fics in mind? Yes. Did I write this instead of sleeping bc I love soft, encouraging Deku? Also yes. Izuku Midoriya is a motivational speaker.

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

“Hey honey! I’m here!”

Over the tinny, background chatter of a podcast streaming from your phone, you call back to Izuku letting himself in.

“Hey you~” You throw interest into your voice, but still stayed tuned into your work.

“Ooo what’s this… What did you make here on the stove?”

“Risotto– it’s Italian~ has lots of veggies and good stuff in it,” you didn’t stop your typing pace, engrossed too heavily in getting an email out before you forget about it and Gmail has to ‘nudge’ you, again, “-gave it a Japanese spin with what I had in the house.”

“Oh wow– oh my gosh, honey– this is so good!”

You look up since your darling man has just appeared in your doorway, sparkly eyed to see you, but equally sated by what’s just graced his mouth. It was a meal you could babysit between taking a quick shower, getting ready for work, letting its flavors marry in the fridge throughout the day, and popping back on the stove that night.

“I’m glad, happy you like it~”

“D’you eat?” Izuku asks, midbite.

“Mhm. Little bit ago,” You motion to your bowl- but when he comes alongside you, he tuts over noting it's only half empty.

“You didn't finish- you feelin’ ok?”

Having circled back onto your screen, you double take again, this time caught by his perception check over you and feeling guilty. 

“Oh. Guess I didn't. I’ll nuke it up here in a bit.”

Izuku, setting down his bowl and starting the -normally alluring- task of rolling up his shirt sleeves to his forearms, comes to your side. However since you’re paying little mind to your peripherals, you missed the show the was making of it. A simple ask of ‘what’re you working on’ came from him, sounding no different than if he wasn't trying to make eyes at you; fact was, you just weren't paying attention.

“Just some stuff for the interns,” the sight of how many tabs are open on your split screen -and in your mind- make you sigh, “With this new role, I kinda feel like you some days. Lesson plans, processing their paperwork; it’s all the stuff you had to turn in as an intern– only now I'm the one dealing with it on the backend.”

Izuku sifted around though your training materials and your propped tablet making itself useful as a second screen. At your handwritten to-do list that’s one of the only things non-digitized nowadays, he makes an offhand comment that your handwriting is nice. It's the kind of cute, ‘blink-and-you’d-miss-it’ things he says that you just hum to, whether you were really listening or not.  

When you glance up to him again, you see he’s watching you with a caring gaze and feel caught.

 “What’re you looking at?” you tease, typing again to break the silence.

“A pretty girl…” Izuku teased lightly, “who doesn’t know when to take a break.”

You type away at his call out– the need for a night off at Izuku’s side is exactly why you've been working so hard at this. You figured you'd get some of this extra prep work under control now, so by the time he rolls around on Wednesday for your standing date n–

You freeze. 

Realizing what day it is in your planner.  It's Wednesday. For dinner.

“Oh my God- -you’re here.”

“Mhmmm~” Izuku really doesn't want to laugh, but his sucking in of a lip isn't hiding it well. 

“ohmygod imtheworst!!” you refresh your face in both hands, talking through the gaps.

“You are not!” Izuku chuckled, setting your notes down. “You just got busy with all the new tasks, because you’re just that good.” 

A faithful, scarred hand comes over to smooth over your back, pulling you over into a little half hug. You sink against him, relishing in his little forehead kiss. He can try all he likes to cure your embarrassment, but you look to him apologetically.

“I’ve never forgotten our dinner dates, ‘Zuku…”

Your darling shrugged unbothered, “Had to happen sometime. It’s no big deal.”

“Is to me,” you pressed- very much bothered.

“Honey,” Izuku chips your chin up, “You’re too hard on yourself. It’s ok, these things happen! I mean, you still made a delicious dinner; even if it was a bit of an oversight I would -in fact- be eating it.”

The pang of guilt hits you at forgetting. This was just a symptomatic sign that the brilliance of your taking on the additional role of Education Coordinator at the agency was perhaps an over-zealous one. Not only to be on-call for your base job as a linguistics quirk specialist, but to balance another full time role on the office hours end? Why did you convince Fatgum this was a good idea? It sounded like a stellar idea back at the beginning of the summer…

Now you’re forgetting not just who you’re supposed to be eating with- but also eating in general.

“I’m glad you did,” you boost Izuku’s elephant-like memory, “It feels so normal to have you here, it's not like I completely forgot I’d see you today. I just– maybe I… thought I was gonna take some to you, since I wouldn't see you till later in the week? I dunno.”

“C’mere- never got a real hug.” 

You rise at his hand’s insistence, and stretch up into his full, healing embrace. 

“Hi baby,” you cooed pitifully.

“Hi, my angel. Missed you today.”

You hummed at the affection, sinking into his neck more out of your residual misery.

Izuku simply took advantage of you being close to sway you in his wide stance- a dance, sans music.

“I appreciate you cooking so much for us,” he spoke gently from his perch over your shoulder, “I was looking forward to it all day, y’know? You’re always so thoughtful with everything you make.”

He’s pressing into you with compliments- against your hard wiring to accept…

“‘Zuku.”

“It’s true~ you’re generous! You remember what my favorites are, and leave out the stuff I don’t like; you even send me leftovers. And you make snacks and treats for when the midnight munchies strike– what can’t you do?”

“Zuku…”

“And you–” he runs a hand through your hair as he sways your shy self back and forth, “-- make for the most funny, beautiful, fascinating, most inspiring company I could ever hope to share a meal with.”

Head thunking onto his shoulder, you playfully land a closed fist on his chest with a muffled, whiny plea for him to stop.

He sighs, all in good humor.

“This streak of yours... I really have my work cut out for me, don’t I? Still can’t imagine how bad it must be in that brilliant mind that my incredible girlfriend has such a hard time accepting the tiniest compliment. Maybe it’s all that late night American comedy you watch...”

You exhale then fix him with your coolest look of sarcasm, anything to show that you have a modicum of having your shit together. So you cope with humor- who doesn't?

–shame that it looks too much like a pout and makes you decidedly not threatening at all, because Izuku just beams brightly at you in response.

“Oh! Now there’s my melty princess- I was wondering where she went.”

And at that, the aloofness was gone, and you snort into a laugh and hug him tighter around the neck. He even scoops you up and gives you one little twirl for good measure. 

When he set you down, Izuku cups your face in his hands and gifts you a few more forehead kisses before demanding your sights. 

“Now. We need to get you to finish eating first. Then, what can I do to help you tonight, hm? How can I make things easier for you?”

With a softer eye to your desk’s work, you sat back down staying connected to your ever doting Izuku by way of your hand in his. You tried again to focus back. You're newly refreshed by his affections and attempt for a more positive outlook, 

“Well, my goal of doing this tonight was so that I didn’t have to go in early tomorrow. Course, if I do run myself ragged tonight, I won't be any good to anyone there– or for you, here. But I think if I pare it down to just getting these e-sigs ready and getting their time-in checklists set up for their work study onboarding, that would give me a good enough start, and I can fill in the rest of their packets tomorrow. But that means I’d need -ugh- maybe… another hour of work tonight?” you looked to him for his approval, “I have a template, so it shouldn’t take me forever.”

“Alright! You’re the boss,” Izuku supported your plan with a smile, “How about I take care of the kitchen for you while you finish up?”

“You do not have to clean my kitchen!” you spouted back, offended– causing a laugh to burst from him, “It’s not funny! I didn’t ask you to come over after a day of work yourself to just slave away at my mess.”

Izuku fixed you a look, as if you knew better. 

“I think I can tidy up a kitchen, no matter how busy of a day I’ve had. Yours isn't even over yet- so when precisely were you going to have the energy to hammer at it? You’ll enjoy not having that mountain waiting for you.”

You huffed, but smiled gratefully all the same. 

“Besides, it’s just me- doing something nice for the woman I love; and I happen to like doing nice things for you. You deserve a clean space, hun.” 

He cleared off your previous bowl to reheat along with your empty water cup. Shaking the hollow straw inside to where it clinks, he knows exactly what you need and tells you so.

“You are getting a screenless break first, though. Something tells me you didn’t the first time around~”

Settled with a fist propping up your face, you swooned over this darling man. 

Trusting Autosave to have done its job, you shut the laptop down blindly, “Sure didn’t~” 

Izuku just rolled his eyes and stepped out of the study. 

You neaten up the collated stack of applications laid out by you and stepped over to the couch, taking a kneeling perch on the end while you sought out a new record for the player on the side table. Setting one on, it was able to fire up and fill some new life into the room with a movie score you haven’t listened to in a while. Everything just sounds better on vinyl.

When Izuku came back in the room, he’d found his houseshoes and returned with renewed interest to your music choice- and with a pleased expression seeing you actually lounging and taking things easier than how he found you. He traded your reheated meal in exchange for your blue-light glasses, which he’d then clean with a pocket square and set back on your desk once they were smudgeless.

“Now, that’s a better sight~ here you go, all set for later.”

You enjoyed Izuku’s company while finishing dinner, listening to him outline his workday while he cradled your legs in his lap. He'd had a pleasantly eventful one, with plenty to say about it. You’d play ‘two truths and a lie’ sometimes when he didn’t want to bore you with a particularly mind-numbing schedule, which pleased you just as well. You excelled at it, while he gave away his fictions every time- a terrible liar for the game, but great for a faithful partner, you reasoned.  You truly loved hearing him talk and talk, your love only growing at the domesticity of this feeling and never wanting that to change. 

Once you were done, you were honestly content to hear him continue his tangent, but it seems his inner discipline was stronger than yours. 

“Alright, now to attack that sink~”

You bemoaned again for his sake. But since you made such a small, affected noise, Izuku paused mid-rise, and sat back down a bit closer to you. He stretched an arm over the back of the couch, encouraging you to come closer and met you for a sweet kiss in the middle.

His mere presence reverted you to a younger self sometimes– one desperate for his attention, good or bad. It wasn't the loveliest impulse, but he clearly thinks it's all part of your charm seeing as he gives in every time, anyway.

“Thing is,” Izuku spoke softly while adoring the hand now placed in his, “If things keep going the way I think they’re going -the way I hope they’re going- it’s.. not hard to imagine that there’s gonna be both our dishes to clean up all the time. In our kitchen, in our home someday. So this is just practice, right? Seems perfectly normal to me. How it should be.”

That idea bloomed in your chest, the thought of sharing a home with him- where this exchange of chores and time together could be your new normal. Only it would be a future where he didn’t have to leave at the end of the night and go back to a bed with compact, collegiate-designed storage at the campus accommodations he stays in on the instructor's wing. He’s got enough to get him by, but he noticeably prefers your home here closer to downtown.

“And what happens when we both wanna ditch the dishes?” you countered sweetly.

Izuku smirked, “That’s what a dishwasher is for. Another thing we’d own together…”

“Forward thinking, there.” You relished that idea. 

Izuku nuzzled your forehead thoughtfully. 

“You’ve been doing things on your own for a long time– and it shows, sweetheart.”

His words came carefully, from a tender place spoken in confidence between you, referring to when you’ve spent other late nights like this one fueled with hot tea and a desire to keep ignoring the clock.

“And I know you’ve been used to that since you’ve been traveling so much, not even having roommates to help keep you company or lighten the load. I keep wishing I could have known you sooner, had more time with you before you had to learn some of those things the hard way… but I’m happy I get the chance to, now. I’m here now, and you’re not alone, so I hope you’ll let me take care of you when I can.”

With another happy sigh forcing your eyes shut, the mental will it took to not let the tears of a perpetual eldest daughter leave you was intense.

Izuku Midoriya never failed to hit the nail on the head when it came to pep talks; he does the same with his students. But why his ones aimed at you had to have a Full Cowling dash of heartfelt anecdotes in it, you don't know. But you're grateful. You're so grateful for him. 

“If you don’t quit talkin’ like that, Izuku, I will never let you leave this condo.”

He chuckled again, lifting your cheek for another kiss, “Twist my arm, love.”

Ultimately, he rose to quit distracting you, but not without you watching him leave with a hunger you’d never felt for another soul before. 

[anadiasmount]

now it's real - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: continuation of the "is this real?" parts! based on this request i received where jude gets the biggest surprise of all... can be real as a standalone also!!

wc: 1.6k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: hiiii!! when the anon asked me to do this I HAD TOOO!! you can find part one and part two here of the "is this real?" series! the fic has an insta au and story included all in one, like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

ynusername

liked by: judebellingham, gioreyna, jobebellingham, yourbsf, otherbsf, erlinghaaland, others.

ynusername: a one of a kind surprise 🤍

comments:

username290: HIS EARS!!!

judebellingham: family keeps growing, your welcome baby 🤍🙏

↪️ ynusername: best surprise ever :(((

gioreyna: coming over asap. going to teach him how to attack jude when he's being mean 👍👍

↪️ jobebellingham: i second guess this 👍

jobebellingham: 'its a german shepherd dog!' congrats you two! ❤️

user473: STOPP HES SO CUTE AND FLUFFYY

username33: aww :(( what's his name??

↪️ ynusername: his name is duke!!

user22: baby face!! he is so adorableeeeee

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judebellingham

liked by: ynusername, gioreyna, jobebellingham, marcoreus, jadonsancho, and 1,787,230.

judebellingham: when all he knows is how to play, bite, eat, and sleep 🙄🙄

comments:

ynusername: he's just a baby, let him be!! 😡😡

↪️ judebellingham: i wonder who he learns it from?? he's literally attached to you.

gioreyna: #attackingjudetrainingclasses are going very well i seem??

↪️ ynusername: they are indeed 🤭🤭

user44: stop his little floppy ears ❤️

username245: his tongue peeking out white he sleeps 😭😭

↪️ ynusername: just like jude fr 😂🤍

jobebellingham: why does he kinda look like you??

↪️ judebellingham: bc he's my kid obviously 😒

↪️ ynusername: our kid ***

username282: stop he has grown sm since the last time we saw him!!

user485: that second picture looks personal? what did you to do him jude??

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old ynusername stories from "duke's🌎 "

august 21' | september 21'' | december 21'

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old judebellingham stories from "y/n and duke 🤍"

october 22' | january 23' | may 23'

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“you know duke, if this is positive you’ll be a big brother right?” you say biting your nails, sitting in the carpet and scratching behind his ears, your words making him tense and bark. “yep. means you’ll have to protect another human, but it means more treats!” you say excited his tail wagging.

“i’m scared… this is scary duke… if i’m pregnant i don’t know how i’ll tell jude,” you frown, feeling duke set his head on your lap looking up at you. you had been feeling the symptoms for a month. constant nausea and headaches, taking naps earlier than usual, duke following you everywhere when he didn’t need to, or getting protective when someone came near you.

you had also missed your period, realizing that when you look at the box of pads/ tampons under the sink. you felt the random wave of emotions, the tiredness and aching back even after having a nice and relax day. all you needed was the test to confirm it. to confirm your worries and feelings.

as you felt anticipated, something inside you also felt panic. carrying a baby for nine months, the labor and delivery, the long road of recovery and now taking care for two. you’ve wanted to be a mom as long as you could remember, but now that reality was hitting, it made you overthink.

overthinking if you’d be enough for you and your baby, also jude and duke. being supportive even during the hard times especially now with jude. any traceable though ran through your head. but despite that, you were ready. you were young, had a stable job, a perfect relationship, and supportive family and friends. it was the perfect time to go from a family of three to four.

duke huffed and followed you to the restroom, waiting by the door as you took a breath of nervousness and tapped your nails against the marble counter. you needed to be sure, so you took three tests to make sure they all had the same result. tears were already beaming in your eyes, before you could even remove the box on top the tests.

with shaky hands and now shivers running along your body, you saw the plus sign and the double lines. you struggled a laugh and broke into tears excitedly. grabbing three of tests and looking at them closely to ensure you weren’t dreaming or your head playing games with you.

“duke! we’re having a baby! a baby inside me now! now wonder you followed me everywhere,” you say sarcastic, leaning down and placing kisses on his head, tail wagging. “i can’t believe it… me and jude are having a baby,” you say breathless looking out into the room and already picturing a crib and small stand where diapers and baby towels would be.

you pictured jude sitting on the bed, reading a story, kissing their cheeks, tucking them to sleep, making them laugh until they squealed or snorted. you brought a hand to your barely bump, rubbing it smoothly and feeling a wave of confidence and excitement run through you.

“let’s go! we need to find a perfect shirt to tell jude!”

you ended up taking duke to a local pet store, picking out a small bandana that mentioned he was going to be a big brother. then going to a crafts store to get a box and some paint, along with some confeti strips to place inside. the last thing to do was find a small real madrid jersey and baby replicas of jude’s iconic red predator boots he wore for his games.

you decide to wait it along to see if jude could fit the pieces together. not drinking coffee or refusing wine when he offered when eating dinner. declining a sushi date and going out to eat at one of your favorite outdoor spots in the city. saying no to going on a hike because you were afraid of falling or getting hurt before you could see the doctor.

jude couldn’t even see right through it. understanding maybe you were busy or tired after being at work. or giving you a small frown when you had to say no. or give you a confused face when you randomly eat your cravings. if there was one thing about jude, is that he is the slowest person, so of course he didn’t see this coming.

“you got not only an assist but goal as well tonight baby,” you say kissing his hand as you waited in the taxi to go home. to say you were nervous was an understatement. you were absolutely mortified to tell jude but you figured today would be the perfect night. after a special night in the bernabeu, you figured why not tell him.

“i’m feeling very much proud and in the mood for some celebration drinks. what do you say hmm? we open a bottle of wine and cuddle? maybe in time for some celebratory sex?” he teased kissing below your ear making you squirm. “jude!” you say refraining yourself, heat building up your cheeks and chest.

“what? i’d love to celebrate with my beautiful girlfriend tonight, and i will because i not only had an assist but winning goal,” jude smirked reciting your words in a teasing and flirty manner, making you hit his chest shyly. “ok keep the act up… you know you want it too,” he said turning away looking forward where the fans yelled his name and cheered.

you leaned up and kissed his cheek, grabbing his face and whispering an “i love you.” jude was in a daze, completely enamored by your beauty. drowning himself into your eyes and bright smile. you had this new thing shining across you, it looked like a fresh glow of something new along you. "i love you y/n." jude places a kiss on your lips, leaving you lingering and out of breath.

"looks like a package come," jude remarks, grabbing the wooden box and shaking it to see what was inside. "from the stork company," you say with a smile. "stork company? i've never heard of that," jude says dumbfounded, grabbing the keys and opening the door. he set the box down by the kitchen island and brought his bag to the laundry room.

jude return to see you propped on the island swinging your feet excitedly. "what are you hiding?" jude says suspiciously, raising his brow and coming over to you. "nothing... are you gonna open it?" you point to the box, hand running down his box. you look at your phone that was hidden and propped nearby, jude eyeing you againg before going to open it.

the familiar butterflies and adrenaline runs along your veins, your hand coming to your bump, as you bite you lip watching jude fiddle with the opening. jude scrunches his face confusedly, taking out the confeti. "duke!" you call out who was already wearing the bib.

jude stops what he’s doing, seeing the infant jersey and tiny football boots. he lets out a laugh, smiling upside down as he takes the baby jersey and holding it out, doing the same with the red predator boots. he glanced around eyes landing on you. “is this what i think it means?” jude says with tears in his eyes.

you giggle and nod quickly, feeling jude trace his hand on your thigh and the other behind your head. “you’re serious? we’re having a baby, y/n?” jude needs the confirmation before he can cheer outloud. a bubble of joystick trickling down his spine as he sees your eyes glimmering. “yes jude… i’m carrying our baby right now,” you look down a hand on your bump jude intaking a breath of air.

jude doesn’t waste any second, kissing you all over your face, tears running down his face emotional, whispering how much he was grateful and thanking you repeatedly making you cry out harder. “i-i-i can’t believe it… we’re having a baby y/n!” jude cheers wipping his face and looking at duke who wagged his tail.

“and you knew about this duke? and you didn’t tell me?” jude leaned down, scratching his ears and reading his small bandana. “no wonder yo wouldn’t let me get near momma. always barking or growling when i wanted to kiss her. not cool man…” he says playfully looking at you still in a daze.

“now you have to protect her from gio and jobe okay? if you do that it means more treats,” jude says teasingly making the german shepherd bark and jump. “oh god,” you chuckle, hand coming to your forehead already picturing the banter and training sessions.

“our family is getting bigger,” jude approaches you and leans down, kneeling and raising his jersey up. jude places delicate kisses in your tummy, making you squirm and hold the back of his head, watching with a huge grin. “my baby in there… i’ll protect you with my life. i love you already, and i can’t wait to meet you,” jude whispered lovingly, hugging your waist.

jude holds your bump, looking into your eyes and feeling your smaller hand interlock with his. “the greatest gift you could ever give me is this, thank you y/n,” jude says wiping a small streak from your cheek with his free hand. “i want to hold our baby now,” jude says along your lips. “patience jude, we have forever to cherish and hold our little one,” you peck his cheek and nose. “love you so much jude,” you kiss his lips slowly, relishing the memory that will forever hold your heart.

“also where did you find those small predator boots?”

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ynusername

liked by: judebellingham, gioreyna, jobebellingham, vinijr, tchuameli, brahimdiaz, audreylunin, yourbsf, yourbestie, others.

ynusername: yes rumors are true… patiently waiting for you angel 🥹🤍

comments:

judebellingham: couldn’t hold it in longer, you’re stunning baby 🤍

gioreyna: ❤️

jobebellingham: IM GOING TO BE AN UNCLE??? WHAT?? THIS IS HOW IM FINDING OUT?? 👎👎

↪️ ynusername: to be fair you’d probably spill the beans 😂🤍

yourbestie: BSJDJDJDUJD IM SO EXCITEDD 😣😣

username383: they’re going to be parents?? WERE GETTING DAD! JUDE???

user29: oh lord… i love this pregnancy announcement 🩷

sophiaamelia: congratulations beautiful! will be rooting for a boy!! how is duke taking it?? 😂💙

ynusername: ohh goshh he follows me everywhere i go 😭😂

↪️ judebellingham: he refuses to leave her side, i can’t even hug or kiss her without him barking at me 😒😒

↪️ gioreyna: LFMOAOSOS 😭

username1092: ISNDDNKSKSBBD HELLO WHAT?? THIS IS ONE WAY TO CONFIRM IT!!

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judebellingham

liked by: yourusername, realmadrid, gioreyna, jobebellingham, brahimdiaz, thiboutcortois, yourfriend, vinijr, aurelitchuameli, camavinga, 3,904,999 others.

judebellingham: not only have i been gifted with the most unforgettable gift, but i get to do this along such a strong and beautiful woman. y/n i love you so much 🤍

comments:

yourusername: JUDEEEEE 😣😣 stop i’ll cry and my hormones all over the place 💔

camavinga: congratulations bro ❤️

vinijr: HERMANOOO FELICIDADES!! ❤️

brahimdiaz: UN BEBÉ?? HERMANOOOOO FELICIDADES 🤍

gioreyna: so happy for you bro ❤️

user453: the way he holds her ☹️☹️

jobebellingham: i still can’t believe this is how i’m finding out??

↪️ judebellingham: you’re shit at keeping secrets jobe 😭😒

danicarvajal: enhorabuena jude! el regalo mas hermoso es esto ❤️

lukamodric: jude you’re so young 😂 congratulations golden boy! 😂🤍

↪️ judebellingham: thank you luka 😂🤍

nachofernandez: enhorabuena judey y y/n ❤️ nueva adición al equipo y familia!

username234: OMGG SHES SO BEAUTIFUL?? 😍

user49384: JUDE YOURE SO LUCKY 😣

userreee23423: she looks so stunning… like i will never get over this 😣😣😣

username9579: THEIR ANNOUNCEMENT HAS BEEN MY FAVORITE OUT OF EVERYONE!!! so happy for you two!!

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ynusername added to their stories!

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judebellingham added to their insta stories!

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ynusername & judeballingham

liked by: ynusername, judebellingham, gioreyna, jobebellingham, vinijr, brahimdiaz, camavinga, england, realmadrid, others!

ynusername & judeballingham: our bundle of joy has joined us and we couldn’t be anymore happier 🤍

comments are restricted!

realmadrid: enhorabuena jude y y/n!

england: congratualtions you two!

camavinga: congratulations! ❤️

vinijr: hermanoo felicidades !!! 🤩

gioreyna: you’re going to be great parents! congratulations you two! can’t wait to meet baby ❤️

jobebellingham: proud uncle! very happy! 💙

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[rubytuby]

surprise

patrick zweig x fem!reader 

word count: 3.3k (LOL)

warnings: established relationship with patrick because i'm lazy, art is your best friend, mentions of getting drunk but it's college so like to be expected… also allusions to sex haha but um i just love to write a cutesy plot.

note: i am normal about patrick zweig, i feel so normal about him #needthat. jokes, but i am in love with him its so bad, i wish he was real. also please don't be offended by my tashi erasure, still love her, but she didn't exactly fit in here. obv this is not canon bc you're dating patrick in stanford era instead of tashi, anyways, hope you enjoy <3.

FEBRUARY 23 2007, STANFORD

The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the tennis courts as you and Art wrapped up your practice session. Both of you were drenched in sweat, Art slung his tennis bag over his shoulder and jogged over, his face lighting up with a mischievous grin.

“So uh, want to walk back to the dorms together?” he asked, sounding overly eager.

You squinted at him, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Sure, but I need to shower first. You know, make it seem like I haven’t been pushed to my physical limits,” you said, gesturing to your sweaty attire.

Art laughed. “You have a single, why don't you just wait until you get back to your dorm?”

You groaned, shoving your racket into your bag. “That's the problem. The maintenance guy showed up at 7:30 this morning to tell us they’re shutting off the water from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. only on my floor for some urgent plumbing issue.”

“Damn, that sucks. Are they even allowed to do that without giving anyone notice?”

“That's what I asked, but apparently, giving us 30 minutes notice is considered adequate. So, technically, they can,” you replied, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “I’ll be quick, though. Just need to rinse off. If you don’t wanna wait for me to chill, you can walk back to the dorms. I won’t be offended.”

Art shook his head. “I’ve got time, I’ll wait. I’ve gotta call someone anyways,” he said plopping down the bench and pulling out his phone.

“Alright weirdo, if you’re sure,” you said, dropping your tote bag next to him. “I’ll be super quick.” With that, you darted off to the girls' locker room.

As soon as you disappeared, Art pulled out his phone and dialed Patrick’s number. The phone barely rang before Patrick answered, his voice tense with impatience.

“Are you guys on the fucking way yet or am I going to have to wait longer?”

“Hello, sunshine!” Art greeted cheerily. “Your beloved is taking a quick shower. We’ll be there in about 25 to 30 minutes.”

Patrick groaned loudly. “Why didn’t you just tell her to shower in her dorm? I’ll lick the sweat off her if it means not waiting any longer.”

Art grimaced at his best friend’s comment. “The water’s out on her floor. She said she’s literally only rinsing off and changing. Just be patient. I’ll text you when to leave so we can time it perfectly.” A sigh rang out on the other line.

“If this plan doesn’t work and I’ve been hiding from my girlfriend for a couple hours for no reason, I’m going to seriously hurt you,” Patrick grumbled, staring out Art’s dorm window.

“Well she definitely thinks you're in New York visiting your parents,” Art paused, “I just had to talk her down from buying a plane ticket, so I think we’re good.”

“I told her I just got into the city a couple hours ago when I actually got to SFO. She was so upset yesterday when I said it’d be five days until we saw each other. She called me a fucking asshole, so I dont know what to do anymore.” Patrick said as he flopped onto Arts bed.

Art scribbled on his worksheet, humming in response. “Well, at least you know that she definitely misses you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure if she misses me or just wants to slap me in the face,” Patrick replied, exasperated.

Just then, Art saw you coming out of the locker room, chatting with one of your friends on the team. “Hopefully not the latter. Anyway she’s out. See you at 15. Don’t be late,” Art said flatly before hanging up, knowing Patrick and his unfortunate untimeliness. 

Art smiled up at you as you approached. “Who was that?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Our shared lover,” Art replied with a laugh, haphazardly shoving his worksheet and phone into his bag as he stood up.

“Aww, any exciting updates from Pat? He still stuck with his parents for another five days?” you teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.

“He just got to the city. He mentioned playing on the East River courts and paying someone to hold a spot for him,” Art lied smoothly.

“Sounds about right,” you said, sighing. “Anyway, I was talking to Nathalie over there…” you squinted, linking arms with Art as the two of you started the walk back to your dorm. “She mentioned a frat party happening tonight. Since Patrick’s trapped in New York, I figured why not go?”

“There’s going to be a keg stand, a ton of alcohol, and some shitty DJ or something,” you added, glancing at a group of students touring the campus before turning back to Art.

Art nodded, slightly wincing at the mention of the keg stand. “Wow, sounds like a lot of fun,” he replied sarcastically, earning a nod of agreement from you.

“I was planning on skipping it, but Nathalie really wants me to go. I thought if you came with me, it might actually be fun. Better than wallowing in my room wishing Patrick was here,” you admitted, biting your lip.

"Well, we had fun at that party last Friday, you remember right?" Art asked, smirking.

"Remember is a strong word," you replied, shaking your head with a laugh. "I think I have bits and pieces from that night. I do remember waking up still drunk at noon with my t-shirt on backwards and you snoring next to me in bed. Also like 5 missed calls from Patrick."

Art flashed you a lopsided grin. "Well, your bed's comfy, but I thought I was going to roll off in the middle of the night."

"Well, I stayed in my corner, I was flush against the wall as you were all sprawled out making yourself at home on my bed," you teased, nudging him playfully.

As you approached your dorm building, you noticed Art’s phone buzz. He glanced at it quickly, fumbling to put it away as a smile grew on his face. “What’s with the grin, weirdo?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“Oh, nothing. Just a funny text,” Art replied too quickly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re terrible at lying, you know that?”

“Who, me? Who said I’m lying, I’m the picture of innocence,” Art said defensively.

You shook your head. “Sure you are. Anyway, I think I’m gonna drop my stuff on the floor, crawl into bed, and maybe take a nap. Maybe we can think about that party, I can call you at 11 so we can pregame.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Art said with a nod. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

You smiled gratefully as the two of you ascended the stairs to your floor. Art talked animatedly about his plans for the weekend while you half-listened, preoccupied with thoughts of collapsing onto your bed and taking a deserved long nap.

"Yeah anyways, I'm thinking of catching up on some studying, this english class is kicking my ass," Art continued, unaware of your drifting attention. "Maybe I’ll go on a run later though. You could join me if you wanted, if you’re up."

"Maybe," you replied absentmindedly, reaching a hand into your tote bag sifting for your keys.

As you reached your door, frustrated with your bag, you dropped your tennis bag and lifted your whole tote up, practically sticking your face in it to find your keys. "I hate these fucking tote bags, I can’t find shit," you grumbled to Art, feeling a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, you turned around with a scowl— until you saw Patrick standing there, a mischievous grin on his face. "Patrick! What the fuck? What are you doing here-” you exclaimed, letting your tote bag fall to the floor and throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.

Patrick laughed, hugging you back just as tightly. "Surprise" he exclaimed, holding you close, smiling at Art over your shoulder.

You pulled back slightly, giving him an incredulous look. "You asshole! Trapped in New York with my parents, my ass!" you shook your head, playfully hitting him on the chest.

Patrick held his chest dramatically and leaned in, kissing your cheek lightly. "All part of the plan," he murmured. “Plus, I had a little help," he added, nodding towards Art, who was standing nearby with a smug expression.

You turned in Patrick's arms to face Art, scoffing in shock. "Art, you were in on this? You’re such a liar," you exclaimed.

Art shrugged. "Hey, I was just hosting him at my dorm while we were at practice. Technically, I didn’t lie—I just omitted a few details," he explained, grinning.

"How could you do this to me? Traitor!" you said dramatically, though a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

Patrick wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you closer against him and resting his head on your shoulder. "Come on. You know it was worth it," he said, his tone teasing.

You sighed playfully, shaking your head at the pair of them. "I guess I can forgive you both this time," you conceded.

Patrick’s hand gently brushed through your hair as he settled his head into the curve of your neck. “You know I can’t stand it when you’re mad at me,” he said softly.

As you lingered in Patrick's embrace, you paused. "Wait, where's all your stuff?" you asked, pulling back slightly and turning to look up at him.

Patrick grinned, nodding towards your door. "In your dorm," he replied casually.

“Wow, Breaking and entering," you quipped, crossing your arms squinting at Art.

Art interjected with a laugh, "Actually, perfectly legal entering. You're the one who gave me a spare key."

You shook your head, "That's for emergencies, Art," you retorted, shooting him a mock glare.

Patrick turned you around to face him, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. "Come on, admit it, you're impressed," he teased.

You sighed, "I'm shocked you guys were able to pull this off, honestly," you admitted, shaking your head with amusement. Patrick laughed softly, rubbing your back soothingly.

Reluctantly pulling away from Patrick's arms, you grabbed your tote bag from the floor, turning to face Art and Patrick. "As much as this hallway talk is very exciting, I seriously need to find my keys. I'm exhausted," you declared half-joking.

After a brief search through your bag, you finally located your keys nestled among your belongings. Patrick picked up your tennis bag with a playful grin, indicating his readiness to follow you inside.

"Alright, Art, thank you," Patrick called out over his shoulder as you unlocked the door.

Art waved casually. "Have fun, be safe you two. I'll see you later," he replied as he walked down the hallway.

As the two of you entered your dorm room, you barely had enough time to place your bags on the floor before Patrick closed the gap between you and him and crashed his lips onto yours. His hands pulled you against him as he pressed your back against the door, placing his hands on either side of you almost boxing you in. His kisses were sloppy, teeth colliding as his lips moved against yours, hands desperately roaming your body, as if he couldn't get close enough to you.

You responded eagerly, melting into his embrace, your own hands finding their way into his hair, tugging him closer. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his tongue tracing your lower lip, hands roaming over your back, then up to cradle your face, pushing strands of hair away as he deepened the kiss.

"Patrick," you managed to gasp between kisses, your chest rising and falling with each breath. "I... I need to put my stuff away," you painted, reluctantly pulling back

Patrick leaned back, a mischievous smirk on his face, moving over to lean against your desk. "Sure," he murmured, his gaze lingering on you as you took out some things from your bag. "So, how was practice?" he asked, his voice low, as he looked you up and down.

You scoffed, a hint of satisfaction playing on your lips as you organized. "Heinous. I keep getting paired with this girl on the team who can't return any of my serves," you replied exasperatedly, glancing over at him.

Patrick raised an eyebrow, "maybe you should just go easy on her."

You shook your head, clicking your tongue in frustration. "I've tried to go easy on her, but she can't even play me when I do that. She acts like it's my fault she can't play for shit," you paused to sigh.

Patrick grinned, tracing a hand up and down your arm. "We both know you're too good for stanford women's tennis," he murmured, moving from the desk to stand behind you, his hands coming to rest on your hips and giving them a quick squeeze.

You whipped your head around, rolling your eyes and scoffing at his comment. "Careful," you say firmly.

Patrick put his hands up in mock surrender, his cocky grin never faltering. "Alright, alright. Sorry, my bad," he said. "You're right."

As an unspoken apology, Patrick moved closer, his hands gently moving up to your waist as he leaned in to kiss your neck softly. His lips left a warm trail on your skin, "I missed you," he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your ear. “So much.”

You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access, closing your eyes briefly to savor the sensation. "I missed you too," you hummed, your voice softening as you turned to face him fully. Your hands came to rest on his chest. "You know, I wish you would’ve just told me you were coming," you teased, carding your fingers through his hair.

Patrick's playful demeanor softened as he gazed into your eyes, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Sorry again," he murmured sincerely, his breath mingling with yours. "Do you still love me?" he asked, clearly teasing and testing you.

You couldn't help but smile, your fingers threading through the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. "I still love you, even with your elaborate lies," you replied, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. "But I have to say I knew something was up. Art was being weirder than normal."

Patrick hummed, his hands gently caressing your sides as he leaned in for another kiss.

"Hey? Are you even listening to me?" you asked, blinking up at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Patrick paused, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes. "Sorry, what did you say? I was a little distracted," he said, smiling.

You laughed softly, giving him a light shove. “I said Art was acting weirder than normal. I could tell he was hiding something.”

He shook his head and grinned, suddenly, he scooped you up over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised laugh from you as he carried you to the bed. Playfully flopping you down, his hands on either side of your head as he leaned in to kiss you again, his lips warm and insistent.

"So, what's our plan for tonight?" he asked between kisses, his fingers tracing light patterns on your sides.

You sighed softly, your words catching in your throat as his kisses became more fervent. "Well, there's this party my friend invited me to," you managed to say, struggling to speak coherently. "But last time I went out with Art, it was a shit show," you paused, trying to focus as his lips trailed down your collarbone, "but you're here, so we can do… whatever you want," you finally managed to say, your voice breathless with desire.

"Can we?" Patrick teased, his tone dripping with innuendo, his kisses becoming more urgent and needy.

You sighed deeply, rolling your eyes. "You know, you're impossible," you muttered, shaking your head. "But yes, we can."

Patrick grinned triumphantly, his hands roaming over your body as he leaned in to kiss you again, his hunger for you evident in every touch and movement. "Good," he murmured against your lips. "I think I just want you to be myself tonight."

"Freaky," you quipped, biting your tongue to hide a laugh.

With a self-assured grin, Patrick swiftly removed his T-shirt, revealing his lean and tan body. His gaze never left yours as he leaned back in, his lips finding yours with intensity. Your fingers traced lightly over his chest as you meshed together, and through kisses, you opened your eyes for a moment, gaze fixed on the freckles dotting his nose and cheeks.

"You've got more freckles," you observed with a playful smile, pulling back slightly, teasingly tracing each tiny mark with your fingertip.

Patrick grinned warmly, his eyes crinkling as he removed his lips from yours pulling you into a tight hug. "You're so cute," he murmured, squeezing you against him. His hands gently moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he pulled you closer, lips looking for another kiss with a soft sigh of contentment slipping out. His gaze, filled with adoration and longing, locked onto yours, silently expressing his deep affection.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he whispered, his voice low and filled with awe. You locked eyes with him, your own expression softening as you smiled, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw.

Without breaking eye contact, Patrick's hands moved to the hem of your T-shirt, his touch almost insistent. He lifted the fabric, exposing your skin to the cool air and his heated gaze, with the T-shirt slipped over your head and thrown to the floor, forgotten. His gaze traveled downward, taking in the sight of you, bare-chested in front of him, a cheeky grin began to spread across his face. 

You rolled your eyes, whacking his arm. "Are you 13?" you teased.

Patrick laughed, unfazed as his hands and mouth roamed your newly exposed skin, his lips moving back to your collarbone, placing soft kisses along its length. Your remaining clothes were shed in a flurry, falling to the floor as you both moved with urgency desperately reconnecting.

Finally, as your kisses slowed and the two of you were breathing somewhat heavily, you rolled onto him, resting your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you close, with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

"I love you," Patrick murmured softly, placing a lovingly sweet kiss onto your forehead.

You met his gaze with a soft smile. "Is that just because we had incredible reunion sex?" you teased lightly, a playful challenge in your voice. "Or do you love me all the time?"

Patrick laughed, his fingers moving up and down on your back. "Only for the sex, it's usually worth the plane ticket," he teased back, with a smile. "Just kidding. I love you all the time," he replied earnestly, as a grin started forming on his face.

Leaning up from his chest, you pressed a sloppy kiss against his mouth, your hands tangling into his hair as you felt the corners of his lips curve into a smile against yours. "I knew it," you murmured against his lips, a hint of amusement in your voice.

"Say it back," Patrick urged with a playful grin, attempting to deepen the kiss, but you playfully pulled away before he could capture your lips again.

Rolling your eyes theatrically, you feigned annoyance, though your smile betrayed your true feelings. "Fine," you replied, leaning in to kiss him once more. "I love you too, freak."

[harrysgal]

I DIG YOUR CINEMA (5)

harry styles x yn aspiring filmmaker — social media AU

About the smau: yn starts posting videos on youtube and is trying to build a career as a filmmaker. Things are going pretty well for her and she starts getting more attention when she creates content about shows she goes to. She’s also a fan of Harry’s music and some of his fans start getting suspicious when his team starts interacting with her.

Disclaimer: The story it’s set in 2021 and it will follow their relationship through the LOT leg in the US. Since this is nothing but fiction, I will be following some of the real timeline but also adding my own stuff. On top of that, I won’t be basing myself on Harry’s actual posts.

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PART 4 — THE VIDEO // MASTERLIST

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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (PART 5) — FROM SAN ANTONIO TO DALLAS

liked by bestfriend, sisterinlaw, cuteguy and 63,157 others 

yourinstagram sightseeing tonight 😍 getting to know these cities only gets better and better guys 

view all 9,105 comments

harryfan7 was this before or after dinner with harry? 😏

↳ harryfan3 stoppp. my heart cant take it ↳ harryfan11 no bc the idea of them walking together and stopping to take pictures it’s just so 🤏

lookitsnyoh 🦭 pillowpersonpp 🦥 anthonypham 🧸

↳ harryfan not the teddy bear!!! 

harryfan117 MISS SARAH JONES IS HERE user8 whats with all the emojis guys!! let me innnnn  user1 YOU’RE BACK 🥰 bestfriend its not the city its all you baby bc you light up the world like nobody else

↳ harryfan that was just… ↳ harryfan5 HEJAHDH NO YOU DIDNR ↳ yourinstagram ….  ↳ yourinstagram i dont even know how to react  ↳ bestfriend wish i could say im sorry or embarrassed but im actually not 

cuteguy Looks amazing!

Sep 10, 2021 •

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liked by user1, user4 and 517 others

cuteguy congrats darling ＠yourinstagram 

view all 75 comments 

harryfan60 see?? she isn’t dating Harry

↳ harryfan58 I fucking knew it  ↳ harryfan62 hope this pr nonsense stops 

user14 little sus but alright ig  randomguy cool bro  user44 dude there’s no way she hasn’t cheated on you lol user3 you guys are so fucking disrespectful can you pls leave this man alone???

↳ user26 I mean he’s the one who decided to go public so… 🤷‍♀️ ↳ user3 his ig being public doesn’t automatically mean you’re supposed to be rude tho. 

user36 Am I the only one who finds this picture adorable?

↳ user38 me too!! i was looking for a nice comment about it lol thanks! ↳ user36 I mean they definitely look like a couple and idk it’s a cute pic :( ❤️ liked by author 

Sep 10, 2021 •

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liked by annetwist, bestfriend, cuteguy and 63,879 others 

yourinstagram update time: went out for a run and my lungs got on fire. view was great though. zero complaints. also the show last night was INCREDIBLE. 

view all 13,719 comments

bestfriend shut up you actually went for a run?? 

↳ harrystyles I wouldn’t call that going for a “run”.  ↳ bestfriend okay that actually makes more sense now ↳ yourinstagram excuse me????? 

harryfan OMFG harry interacting with yourbff??? 

↳ harryfan5 I KNOW! where are you ＠bestfriend are you still alive???  ↳ bestfriend no  ↳ bestfriend but im pretending to be cool about it so 🤫 ↳ harryfan OMFHAJDHPAHDJ ILY

cuteguy 😍 user7 yessss! two days in a row!!!! thank you!!! user1 looks so prettyyyyyy! hope you’re doing okay <33

↳ yourinstagram i am!! thank you love <333 

yourbrother Won’t believe you’ve moved your ass to be healthy until I see it.  

↳ yourinstagram the fact that you dont believe me wont change the fact that it happened :D

harryfan15 harry is such a stalker. interacting with her posts when he doesn’t even follow her lol harryfan25 Anne started following her!!!  user10 Not to rush you, but are we getting more videos anytime soon? I was so used to getting one every week… :( user25 So… She’s officially dating that cuteguy, isn’t she? 

↳ user17 What? Who said that?  ↳ user25 TMZ updated that article of her and Harry having dinner with this picture of them ↳ user17 Oh… Where can I see this picture? ↳ user25 She’s tagged on it. ＠cuteguy posted it  ↳ user13 i wouldn’t believe (or read) TMZ guys ↳ harryfan68 funny how you won’t believe TMZ when it’s about this guy but you’ll believe them when it’s about harry ↳ user13 lmao I’m not in that fandom so I couldn’t care less about her dating harry or not. 

harryfan13 SO WE ARE ALL GOING TO IGNORE THE FACT THAT HARRY AND YN WENT OUT FOR A RUN TOGETHER?????

↳ harryfan60 Yes bc no one actually believes they did. Next. ↳ harryfan68 hahaha you ate this one 

Sep 10, 2021 •

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liked by harryfan, harryfan2, harryfan3 and 4,375 others 

harryupdates A fan met Harry in San Antonio today! 

According to the fan, Harry said he was on a tight schedule so couldn’t stay for a chat, but agreed to take a quick picture and thanked her for going to the show. 

view all 675 comments

fanwhometharry “Thank you so much I hope you enjoyed it”, those were his words exactly :’)

↳ harryfan27 OMG IT WAS YOU?? YOU’RE SO LUCKY ↳ fanwhometharry I know!! Thank you!!! ↳ harryfan24 was he alone??  ↳ fanwhometharry No, he was walking with his personal trainer and Yn ↳ harryfan52 his personal trainer also has a name btw and it’s Brad  ↳ fanwhometharry Sorry, I don’t keep up with his personal trainer 🤷 I only know Yn bc I watch her youtube videos ↳ harryfan9 don’t apologize they’re always finding something to complain about lol happy for you!!

harryfan72 How convenient… He always agrees to take pictures when Yn is around 🙄 

↳ harryfan68 right??? almost as if he WANTS people to spread the word… 

harryfan13 I KNEW I WAS RIGHT AND THEY WERE TOGETHER

Sep 10, 2021 •

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liked by annetwist, bestfriend, cuteguy and 61,574 others 

yourinstagram DALLAS! you are sooooo so pretty <3 we arrived yesterday and im already in love. it was a sunny afternoon so i went out for a walk, and as i was on my way to buy some flowers to myself (bc i wanted some so i got some) i had one of those surreal moments thinking about how lucky i am to be where i am right now. im always waiting for this feeling to eventually go away so i can come back to my “old life” and my “old self”, but now im kinda considering that as time goes by and i get to know more and more places, it will actually only grow bigger and bigger, right? :’) 

(in that case, feel free to unfollow me now bc the annoyance will only grow bigger and bigger as well — consider yourself warned.)

view all 14,102 comments

sisterinlaw The summer vibes are gorgeous! harryfan42 WAS HARRY WITH YOU????  user1 another post??? feels like going back to the old times im so happy!!! harryfan64 this girl won’t even post her face and she got like 4k new followers in one day 

↳ harrystyles82 It’s the Harry Styles effect  ↳ harryfan64 glad im not the only one who sees it 🤡

harryfan YN? DID YOU ACTUALLY JUST SAY I WANTED SOME SO I GOT SOME??? 

↳ harryfan5 i saw that too i was like… okay 😂 ↳ harryfan9 hahaha I hope she actually did get some tbh  ↳ harryfan13 ME TOO!! ↳ bestfriend yes. she 100% did ↳ harryfan9 😲 ↳ harryfan lmaoshuahsjbjh  ↳ harryfan17 wait ＠bestfriend she 100% say “i wanted some so i got some” or she 100% got some?  ↳ harryfan23 oh god i cant believe this is a real conversation you guys are having HAHAHA

user17 please keep feeding us with your random cute posts!! <3 i love them!! bestfriend fgs ＠yourinstagram have some manners  bestfriend i thought you didnt like exposing yourself like this  bestfriend also… your mom is on instagram so…  bestfriend PLEASE 

↳ yourinstagram omfg shut upppp ahusdhjahj ↳ yourinstagram stop encouraging the nonsense behavior??? ↳ yourinstagram you KNOW i meant the flowers ↳ yourinstagram i wanted some FLOWERS so i got some FLOWERS ↳ bestfriend yeah i know 💐 ↳ bestfriend sorry its just too funny sometimes 💋

loveynrry did anyone else notice yn hasn’t liked THAT picture yet? 👀

↳ user4 which one? ↳ loveynrry the one @/cuteguy posted ↳ user4 ohhhhhh 👀 ↳ user4 also did you notice yourbff doesn’t follow him ↳ user9 shit ＠user4 i hadn’t noticed that  ↳ loveynrry i did, yeah… thats why im sus about him ↳ user4 I mean, I trust yourbff judgement soooooo…… 

Sep 11, 2021  •

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— — — — — 

PART 6: PHILLY AND DC

— — — — — 

[queenothegeeks]

Creator with coping mechanisms

part 2! Part one can be found here (pls let me know if the link doesn’t work I’m doing this on my phone and I’m d y i n g)

Even the creator gets stressed, so, how do you relax?

A creator who cooks or bakes to deal with stress

After a very stressful day of meeting important dignitaries and public figures, you felt like settling down, reading a recipe or making something from memory to remind you of home. Maybe you have music playing in your head or maybe it’s just empty, feeling comfortable doing something you love

Maybe giving the food you make to other characters in the game, or you hand them out to random people, like kids from the house of the hearth.  Or maybe you just sit and eat it all for yourself (which, is valid, bc tbh I don’t want anyone else eating my food)  

Hey (insert character)! I made too much of this and I was wondering if you wanted some! I hope you like it!

Hey Timme, I'm really sorry for scaring away all the birds, but I made an extra loaf of bread for you to feed them with, is that okay? 

Creator who writes stories or fanfiction as a coping mechanism (me) 

Finding it hard to sit down and write, even though you really want to. Maybe it's the environment or the people that you are with, but once you get into the zone, the world just disappears. 

Maybe you write the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed, with found family and just silly moments with your characters (oc or not), or perhaps you write the saddest things known to god that make even the most heartless of characters cry

“Are you…are you crying”

(sniff, sniff) NO! Maybe…” 

“Are you okay? Why are you crying”

“I stole-borrowed your notebook because I was worried about you (they wanted more intel or smt idk) and I started reading it. And it's really sad WHY ARE YOU WRITING SUCH SAD STUFF?”

“WHY ARE YOU READING MY NOTEBOOK!?” 

A creator who embroiders to relax (don't @ me pls i've never embroidered) 

You didn't tell anyone about it, knowing that someone would try to convince you to make business out of it (probs Dori) but after you had to ask for a few bandages after you poked your hand on your needle, the cat was out of the bag. 

“But we could sell it for a ton! We could even send a few things to museums! …if you want ig”. 

“Thanks, I'm good…”

“Why not!?”

(Don't threaten them with needle Dont threaten them with needle Don’t threaten them with needle-)

Or if you get lucky, maybe they just ask you to make them something instead of making a glorified pyramid scheme. 

“Can you make something for me?”

“You should work with Chiori!”

“Can you embroider me!?”

… Yeah maybe this isn't much better.

Chaos demon! (Arson with klee 2.0!)

“Are they okay..?”

“Let them have this”

“Sir, their grace is setting everything on fire”

“Its fine”

Let me know if I missed any habits in the comments! Remember, if you see any spelling mistakes, no you didn’t.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

feysand x reader: the afterglow

set after getting together but you don't necessarily have to read that to understand this one!

under the cut bc its over 1K!

tw: a bit of anxiety

-After you guys officially mated, you knew the world was gonna take it weirdly. 

-There’s never been a triad bond that would be so well known. 

-To be honest, you were mostly nervous about how the inner circle would react. 

-You knew they loved the three of you dearly. But you also weren’t stupid and knew this was unconventional. You also knew you were freaking over nothing but alas, you were still anxious about it. 

-In the middle of the frenzy, Rhysand sent a message saying that you had accepted the triad bond and you three would be gone for a bit. 

-When you guys came back, it was a party. Mor had hung up a banner that said “congratulations!” There was a buffet table full of foods that Elain had clearly worked so hard over. 

-Cassian was…collecting coins from everyone?

“I bet that you’d be the first to make the first move.” He explained. 

Technically, he wasn’t wrong. It was you yelling at them that made the first move. 

“Did everyone know before we did?” you asked as he collected a few coins from Azriel. 

“Well, Rhysie isn’t subtle. Feyre was oblivious to your struggle just like she was to Rhysie-“

“Hey!” Feyre pouted. “You aren’t wrong, but hey!” 

You kissed her cheek. “And you!” Cassian pointed to you. “Are affectionate with everybody! Do you know how hard it was to convince Feyre and Rhysand that you actually liked them like that!” 

“I’m so sorry my reluctance to fuck our friends made your life harder.” You said dryly. 

He scoffed, “better be!” 

“Quit yelling at my wives, Cassian.” Rhysand said darkly, the alpha-asshole coming out. 

“Here we go.” Feyre muttered. 

“Made it two minutes this time.” Mor added. 

“Instead of two seconds.” Amren finished. 

Cassian gave you a smile that you had you wincing, because you knew what was coming. “Hey Y/N, want a ri-“ He didn’t get to finish because of the punch to his stomach from Rhys. 

“Welcome to the family.” Mor nudged you. “Even though you were already in.” 

“I’m just relieved I don't have to see Y/N pining anymore.” Nesta said from the doorframe. “Over twenty years of that bullshit.” 

You should’ve hit her harder when you were kids. 

Azriel, Lucien and Elain, like the sweethearts they were, just smiled without a sarcastic comment. 

-Your next worry was Nyx. How would you fit into his life? Would you be a stepmom or another mom? 

-You easily loved him more than anything, that was even before being mated to his parents. Now? Somehow you loved him more. 

-You were holding him one day when Rhysand sat down next to you on the porch swing. You were just enjoying the breeze with your-well it felt wrong to call him your son but you were his parents' wife? 

“How are two of my favorite living beings?” Rhysand said kissing you. 

“Good but what kind of greeting is that?” You chuckled. 

“I know he’s a person, but it’s weird to call him that. He’ll always be my baby.” He cooed and brushed back Nyx’s tuft of hair. 

Rhysand sat next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You leaned as much as you felt comfortable with Nyx in your arms. You didn’t like not being on your guard when you were holding him. He was precious. 

Rhysand kissed your temple, you felt peace. You were just missing one vital part. Feyre usually came home from the studio around this time. Rhysand and you had accidentally made it a tradition to sit out on the porch and wait for her. 

“Do you want kids?” Rhysand asked. “You don't have to answer now.” 

“I mean, I kinda have one now. Kind of late to say no.” You giggled and gestured to Nyx. “He may not be biologically mine. And I can be a stepmom or stay Auntie. Whatever’s the most comfortable with you and Fey. I don't want to overstep.” 

“Would….would you be one of his moms?” Rhys asked, you could tell he was incredibly nervous. 

“I would be honored.” You whispered, your gaze never leaving the baby's sleeping face. 

You missed the look of utter adoration that Rhys shot your way. 

Pretty soon, Feyre joined you guys on the porch coming home in paint splattered overalls and a paint stained face. She was glowing, you could tell how happy that studio made her. It made you incredibly happy. 

She leaned down to kiss Nyx, then you, then Rhys who pouted about being last. But he was okay with it, he loved your family so incredibly much. It kind of scared him what he’d do to protect it. 

Later that night, Feyre came up behind you in the mirror as you got ready for bed. She pressed her head against yours. Your cheeks lined up perfectly and were smushed together. Her arms were wrapped around your waist. 

“You are his mother, if that’s what you want to be”. She whispered. “I may have birthed him, but I would be honored to share the mom spot with you.”

“Fey, I just did my skincare, you can’t make me cry like this.” You said, your voice wobbly. She squeezed you tighter in response, her nose scrunching with her closed mouth smile, her eyes half closed and lips scrunched slightly. She kissed your temple and went back to Rhys. 

That was that. Rhysand was dad/daddy, Feyre was mom/mommy and you were mama. 

-The next thing on your list was how the court would see it. The Inner Circle doesn’t give a shit (which was to be expected) but the Court of Nightmares? That’s where you were worried. 

They didn’t take to Feyre that well, then Nyx. Now you. 

Rhys called you out on your bullshit one night while all of you were getting ready for bed. 

“What’s up with you? You’re more nervous going to the Court of Nightmares than you were before.”

“Well, we weren’t mated then.” You said back, you tried to avoid being snippy but your stress levels were high. 

Clearly, he knew you were being snarky because he gave you a raised brow and held his hands up in surrender. You sighed. “Ugh, baby I’m sorry.” You said. You set down your hair brush and crawled into his arms. 

His chest shook with restrained laughter. “Love, you’re allowed to be nervous-“ He was cut off by Feyre coming into the room. 

“Ooh, are we snuggling?” Feyre said. And with the excitement of a five year old she catapulted into bed.  

The three of you bounced and laughed. “I’m nervous about going to the Court of Nightmares.” You admitted, playing with a string on the blanket to avoid looking at Feyre. You could avoid Rhys’ gaze easily since you were sitting with your head laid against his chest and in between his legs. 

“Why?” Feyre brushed your hair behind your ears. 

“Because…” You made a helpless gesture. “It's really scary.”

“You’ve been there before?” Feyre asked. 

“Yeah well I wasn’t fucking the High Lord and Lady.” You sighed. 

“Okay, you aren’t just fucking us.” Rhysand squeezed your hip. “You’re our wife. What label do you want them to know you as? Consort?-“ 

“I’ll rip your dick off.” You growled. “Consorts aren’t treated with the respect they deserve.”

“Agreed.” He said. 

“Do you want political power?” Feyre asked with zero judgment. 

“You know that’s not why I married you two.” You grumbled. 

“But would you want it?” Rhysand pushed. His hands roaming over your skin, he knew how much the contact helped your anxiety. 

You shrugged. “It’d be a massive adjustment. However….I’d love to help people and actually have the power to do so. But there’s…”

“Hm?” Feyre continued to stroke your palm. 

“This is gonna sound bad but I don't mean it to be.”

Feyre smiled and based on the pulsing down the bond, Rhys was too. So you continued. “There’s no room for me to help rule.”

“Who says?” Feyre challenged. 

You sputtered and Rhys decided to take you out of your misery. 

“You know, there also wasn’t such a thing as High Lady when Feyre came into our lives.” He stroked down your back, his hands ending at your hips. 

“And?” You asked. 

“I rewrote that rule, and I’ll rewrite it again for you to be in it. You are our equal in every way and I refuse to let you be reduced to a ‘consort’ that is, if you want to be a High Lady.”

And that was it. The next day, the day you were supposed to head to the Court of Nightmares, you delayed it. Much to the confusion of your Inner Circle. 

You were sworn in as a second High Lady. 

How the Inner Circle found out was quite funny. Az had a feeling, Nesta and the Valkyries were happy for you. Mor and Amren just looked at Rhys with a secret High Lady? Again! Cassian used it as an excuse to celebrate that night so the group could ditch their Court of Nightmares persona. 

When Azriel introduced you, he said, “Rise for your High Lord Rhysand, Highy Lady Feyre and High Lady Y/N.”

The three of you walked in, you in the middle, Rhysand and Feyre on either side of you. 

You felt beautiful, respected. Even though you knew Keir would be a problem. 

You were alright with those problems, as long as you had your family with you.

[astermath]

nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

tag list <3

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[ur-fav-inactive-writer]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 ____'𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞...

(A/N: Does not include Five)

𝑵𝒐. 1 , 𝑳𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 , 𝑺𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒚

girl next door trope

knew you ever since childhood

loves you to death

so soft with you

he's such a gentlemen

pulls out chairs for you and holds doors for you

butttttt you have to deal with his daddy issues

he always comes to you crying whenever something happens

a sweetheart with you though

he's very awkward at comforting you

he likes to cook for you

he's such a good chef ngl

he loves cuddling

he literally is always cuddling you

likes to be big spoon, don't get me wrong he needs comfort

but

the idea of being able to protect you by being big spoon is so validating to him

he's too big to be little spoon anyway

that is literally his one purpose

if he found you during the 60s or something and he had to leave you he'd never stop talking about you

"I miss (Y/N)..."

"(Y/N) would've liked this.."

"Luther, they're gone."

fml sobbing why did I write that

anyway his one purpose is to love and protect you

𝑵𝒐. 2 , 𝑫𝒊𝒆𝒈𝒐 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑲𝒓𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏

very jealous

if he sees you with some guy who is flirting with you he will literally glare daggers into him

he will then proceed to walk over to you, sling an arm around your waist and pull you in for a kiss

he doesn't give a shit if anyone's watching

he talks shit about him siblings to you

"Luther thinks he's so much better than all of us-"

"Diego chill out."

oh my god when Viktor wrote that book

he

was

SEETHING

(no hate to viktor , viktor is baby)

the shit talk increased so much

he would not shut up about it

help diego would be such a simp for you

like I'm not joking

pure simp

in his eyes you are sweet innocent summer child who can do absolutely no wrong

stabbed someone?

pfft it was probably just an accident

he brings you to visit grace

omg it would be so cute

grace absolutely adores you

she always makes sly comments about how you and diego should get married

he goes redder than the colour red

he wouldn't tell anyone but he secretly loves the idea

he loves kissing your forehead

it's literally his favourite place

you and klaus are besties

he has to deal with you when klaus gets you drunk

"oh. my. god. im upside down."

"(Y/N), you're standing upright. we need to go home.

"... no"

he never gets drunk

fun squasher

he says his body's a temple

boring

youre his nurse

he always comes home injured and gets you to patch him up

he finds it hot

yes, he's bleeding out. yes, he finds you playing nurse to him hot.

priorities ig

he's so soft with you

would kill for you

he probably has

𝑵𝒐. 3 , 𝑨𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒓

(refuse to make her evil so s3 allison will not be mentioned)

definitely gets you an acting job in one of her films

she buys you the fanciest stuff

literally you two have the best closet

and you have your own personal stylist

bc why not

you do interviews with her all the time

fans absolutely adore you

there's so many paparazzi pictures of you two together and they eat it up

especially if they include you being doting to claire even though she's not biologically your kid

omg her fans would absolutely love that

so would allison though

if she saw you reading claire a story or smth

her heart would just melt

she might cry ngl

her two favourite ppl in the world just being adorable

you're the cool parent to claire

both of you go to fancy parties and are the hottest couple

"Allison! (Y/N)! How does it feel knowing you're America's favourite couple!"

you're so flattered

allisons just like: yeah ik lmao

she kisses you a lot in public

she knows damn well people are gonna get pictures of it but she loves it

you watch her films with her a lot

if its a particularly old one, you make fun of it with her

"oh my god allison. why do you look like that."

"IT WAS THE STYLE."

she then proceeds to also make fun of it

you, her and claire go on lots of fancy days out

you may as well considering you're RICH

luther gets a bit jealous sometimes

you help her with her therapy

you comforted her when she custody of claire

you also fought alongside her to get her back

as soon as you do you're happier than ever

you are literally just the cutest family ahdhahfhaj

but then she loses you again when she goes to the 60's

she made it her life's purpose to get back to 2019 with the love of her life and claire

as soon as she accepts that it could take years upon years to reunite with you and claire she finds ray

she knew you'd be happy

but she also knew

she'd never truly move on

omg help I'm gonna start sobbing why do I do this to myself

𝑵𝒐. 4 , 𝑲𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒔 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒆́𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆

you help get him off of drugs

ben adores you

he likes that you're there to help klaus

and that you don't ever drop to his level and just do drugs with him

he also likes how you never shit talk him when klaus starts ranting about how annoying he is

klaus is a huge fan of PDA

he is obsessed with the idea of holding your hands

he is constantly touching you in one way or the other

whether it be holding your hand

or simply having a hand on your leg

it matters to him

and that's why you love it

sweet baby boi has so much love to give

he likes being little spoon

he just loves being in your arms

it helps with his nightmares

diego also approves of you

you've saved him from having to go out and look for klaus in the middle of the night in fear he's high or smth

klaus rants to you every so often

quite often you have to help him through panic attacks

he loves you sm

like he is so lovesick

if anyone were to ever ask about you

oh boy

he gets this lovesick look in his eyes

and then starts rambling about how enamored he is with you and how great you are

it's adorable

he's very clingy but in the best way possible

he matches outfits with you

never a dull moment with you two

often it's you trying to solve whatever problem klaus has somehow managed to conjure up

and klaus just being a devious little shit

but it doesn't matter cause you love him

sometimes he questions why you love him

it makes you cry whenever he asks

"(Y/N/N)..."

you hum in response

"why do you love me...?"

sobbing and you start listing all the reasons

and then he's sobbing

and then you're both sobbing

but anyway

he loves dancing with you

he doesn't care what song

it could be some crappy pop song that's somehow in the top hits

or some classical music that's centuries old

he really doesn't care

he likes spinning you around

he loves seeing how happy it makes you

klaus asks you the most random stuff at 3am

"... (Y/N"

"yeah"

"lawyers hope you get sued, doctors hope you get sick, cops hope you're criminal, mechanics hope you have car trouble, but only a thief wishes prosperity for you."

"... go to bed"

"never"

you poor thing

you never get any sleep because of how chatty he is at night

he hates being away from you

if he isn't near you he will start whining to ben

𝑵𝒐. 6 , 𝑩𝒆𝒏 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓

omg it took him ages to admit his crush on you

he's been crushing on you since you were like 12

when did he admit it?

when he was 18.

he likes reading to you

he loves seeing you get all relaxed at the sound of his voice

it makes him fall even more in love with you

he likes PDA but not that much

just a simple touch is enough for him

this boy blushes so easily

you'll brush his hand and he'll turn so pink

sometimes you'll just be sitting there doing nothing of note

and he'll be staring at you in adoration

he's in absolute awe of you

thinks you're the most adorable thing ever

much like diego

thinks you can do no wrong

you're his sweet, precious girl

he knows everything about you off by heart

from your favourite colour

to your mums favourite song

you thinks it's endearing

he loves holding your hand

playing with your hair is one of his favourite things to do

don't get me wrong he likes when you do it to him

but he much prefers when he does it to you

he finds it really relaxing

he's usually pretty closed off about his childhood but he trusts you

sometimes when something that triggers a bad memory happens he goes to you to rant

he doesn't know what he'd do without you

you're literally his life

omg

when you kiss his nose

he just melts

it's the most adorable thing

he's so good at cheering you up

no matter if its something minor or major

he's always amazing at getting you back to your usual self

he loves taking you on cute little dates

he reads you poetry he wrote

omg he deffo writes a piece of poetry about how much he loves you

omg help this is so cute

overall he's a simp

and it suits him

𝑵𝒐. 7 , 𝑽𝒊𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒓 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑽𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒏

viktors a sweetheart

he gives you private violin shows

he also rehearses in front of you to see what you think

he tries to get you to critique him

if you don't play violin, you probably just say its all perfect

if you do, you probably give him little tips on areas to work on

you go on little dates to watch the sunset

he has to be little spoon

he just needs some comfort

just needs to be wrapped in your arms and feel safe

poor guy has been through so much

sometimes he gets mad memories of the incident with allison and you have to calm him down

he wouldn't get jealous

he'd just get rlly insecure :(

if he saw someone flirting with you he'd just get a bit sad

he would think the worst and think that you would want to leave him for them :(((

poor bby

opens up to you about how bad his childhood was

sometimes he regrets writing the book

you have to reassure him that it's okay and they don't hate him for it

sure, they did, but not anymore

klaus thinks you two are adorable together

you've got quite a few polaroids of the two of you together

he has them on those little string lights above your bed

he keeps at least one in his pocket at all times

he does that thing where you check if you still have something valuable and it's so cute for some reason

and when he checks and its still there it puts this small little smile on his face

omg it's just shfjsjfjsjf

you take care of him when he's sick

he hates it bc he feels bad that you have to take care of him

but deep down he loves it and will treasure those memories forever

but he'd do the exact same thing if you were sick

whenever you buy him something he always feels bad if he didn't get you something

"Vik it's okay! you didn't have to get me anything,"

"NO ITS NOT I NEED TO GO GET YOU SOMETHING RIGHT NOW."

it's absolutely adorable

Taglist: @book-place

[notiddygothgf]

6. troublemaker

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Did you miss me? ❞ ❝ Only a little. ❞

★ c.w.: smoking, smut, lots of filthy dirty talk omg. (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: i hated writing this chapter only bc its like omg. i just want everyone to be HAPPYYYYY!! ugh. I tried to make it slow burny but as you can see that did not work out. I missed aki too much to bear it. Anyway! I'm finishing up the last few chapters in google docs (dw there are many chapters you will see before i post them, i like to be prepared is all) and im thinking of how to end the story. Leave suggestions! Keep them comments coming, I love reading through them! I be, like, kicking my feet n shit. 

★ w.c: .5.5k

shameless ; chapter index

THE MORNING LIGHT FILTERED SOFTLY through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. You stirred, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. His arm was still draped over you, holding you close. As you opened your eyes, you found yourself face to face with him. He was already awake, his gaze warm and soft, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice husky.

Yesterday was real. He was real.

"Morning," You replied, a blush creeping up your cheeks. The two of you were still pressed bare chest to bare chest, a gesture so sickeningly intimate that you couldn't help but blush.

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "How did you sleep?" he asked.

You smiled, feeling a little shy. "Better than I have in a long time," you admitted. "You?"

He chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling. "Like a baby," he said, his hand gently caressing your back. "You're a wild sleeper, though. Almost pushed me off the bed."

You laughed, feeling a lightness in your chest that you hadn't felt in ages. "And you're a wild lover. My back feels like shit," you teased, snuggling closer to him.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Sorry," he said quietly, his breath warm against your skin. "Wanna do it again sometime?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and for a moment, you were lost in the tender bliss of it all. 

"When's sometime?" You dared to ask.

He grinned – giddy and breathless and pretty, "Right now works for me. You?"

You laughed, "Don't be greedy."

Still, you thought about it. You thought about rolling over and kissing his pretty face again, being close to him – feeling his hands on your hips while he slowly, lazily thrusted up into you.

But then, reality came crashing down on you. You had a train to catch and responsibilities to face. As much as you wanted to stay in this cocoon of warmth and affection with him forever – stay buried in his strong, sweet smelling arms – you knew you couldn't.

You glanced over at the clock on the bedside table and your eyes widened in alarm. "My train!" You exclaimed, quickly pulling away from him. You reached for your phone, checking the time. 

Hurriedly, you got out of bed. You began gathering your things, slipping into your Public Safety suit and tie uniform. As you zipped up your suitcase, you caught his eye in the mirror. He was watching you with the most tender smile, and it made your heart ache.

"I'm going to have to call a cab," You said, smoothing out your uniform in the mirror. "I was going to walk, but... at this rate..." You trailed off, biting your lip.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Don't worry about it," he said, getting out of bed. He came up behind you, his presence comforting. "I'll drive you."

You turned to face him, a look of surprise on your face. "You sure?" you asked, your voice soft. "I don't want to put you out of your way. I know you have work today."

You really, really, could get used to a sight like this – a handsome captain standing in nothing more than a pair of boxers behind you, admiring your uniform in the mirror like you were a fucking painting.

He smiled, a gentle, reassuring smile. "I can run a few minutes late," he said. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "I want to make sure you get there safely."

It felt so good to be desired by him.

You felt a lump form in your throat. The way he held you, the concern in his voice—it was more than you had expected, more than you felt you deserved. You looked at your reflection in the mirror, meeting his eyes. 

"I'll be fine, Aki," You said softly. You were a devil hunter, after all. You could defend yourself against anything.

"It's not up for debate," he said gently but firmly. "I'm taking you to the train station. Are you all packed?"

At this rate, I'm gonna fall for him.

"Yeah," You smiled breathlessly.

He landed a smack on your ass, "Then bring it here, and let's hit the road. If I look at you any longer, I'll give you a reason to miss the train."

"Fine," You laughed. "I'm carrying my own suitcase, though."

It was something you were used to doing. Something completely mindless – your husband never helped you with your bags, or anything like that. 

"And have you lift a finger?" He retorted, "Over my dead body."

"Watch me," You grinned back.

You never did wind up carrying your suitcase to the car. Or opening the door, for that matter. Aki, a man true to his word, did not let you lift a finger.

.

The train station was the same way it had been when you'd arrived only a week or so earlier. The only different thing about it, in fact, was the fact that you were with the same man you had bumped into upon your arrival – and now he was carrying your luggage for you.

As you reached up to grab your suitcase, you collided with someone. Startled, you looked up to find yourself face-to-face with a man who immediately captured your attention. He was tall, easily over six feet, with broad shoulders and a powerful build that spoke of both strength and discipline. His dark hair was tied back in a neat topknot, accentuating his sharp, angular features. But it was his eyes that held you—their piercing blue depths seemed to look straight through you, filled with a seriousness that made you catch your breath.

"Sorry—" he began, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that vibrated through the narrow space.

The butterfly effect was a strange thing, truly. 

The two of you stopped in front of the tracks. He checked his wrist watch, parking your luggage right beside him. As if on cue, a train pulled into the station, screeching to an unceremonious stop. You had half of a mind to be upset about its arrival, as if you had been robbed of your precious time with him (even if it was only a few minutes, and even if the two of you had spent the entire car ride talking shit about coworkers).

"Just in time," He remarked.

You didn't know how to feel. Should you have been happy that you were finally able to leave your transgressions behind and return to your husband? If such was the case, then why did you feel as if you were leaving such a large part of you behind?

As if your heart was buried in Tokyo along with the memories of your past?

"Yup," You replied in a remarkably stupid fashion. As the doors of the train opened and passengers began pouring out, your heart dropped.

He observed you fondly, the faintest hint of affection in his stoic resting face – as if he was expecting you to make the first move.

So, not knowing what else to do, you bowed your head ever-so-slightly. 

"Thank you for everything," You said. Then, struggling to find the words to say what you meant (I miss you already...? Will I ever see you again...? I wish I didn't have to leave...?), you added, "Okay. I guess this is it. Goodbye, Aki."

You turned to walk away, feeling the weight of the moment pressing on your chest. Every step felt like a betrayal. 

Suddenly, you felt a firm but gentle grip on your arm. Before you could process what was happening, Aki pulled you back with a surprising urgency. 

In an instant, his lips met yours in a kiss so passionate that it took your breath away. You stumbled backward, the sheer force of the moment making your knees weak, but his arm around your back secured you, holding you close to him – like he was afraid he would lose you if he let you go.

Time seemed to stop. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was the warmth of his lips and the pounding of your heart. His other hand moved to cup the side of your face, fingers gentle yet firm, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment. Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless. He looked at you, eyes filled with a mix of emotions you couldn't quite decipher. His cheeks were tinged with a slight blush, an endearing contrast to his usual stoic demeanor.

"Goodbye," he said softly, his voice slightly husky from the kiss. The faint blush on his cheeks deepened, giving him an almost boyish charm. 

You could feel your face heating up, the blush spreading like wildfire. "Bye," you managed to say, your voice coming out more giddy than you intended. The giddiness in your tone mirrored the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you.

With one last lingering look, you turned and walked toward the train, toting your suitcase with you. As you reached the door and stepped inside, you couldn't resist glancing back. He was still standing there, watching you with a mixture of longing and resignation.

The doors closed with a final, echoing thud, and the train lurched forward. You found a seat by the window, your heart still racing. As the train pulled away, you watched Aki's figure grow smaller and smaller, until he was just a distant memory in the Tokyo landscape.

Like the night you had taken a cab to get away from him.

You sighed, resting your head against the window. The kiss lingered on your lips, a bittersweet reminder of what you were leaving behind. The train rumbled on, carrying you back to the life you knew – a life that, for some odd reason, seemed much emptier.

A faint buzz of your phone, and you were checking instantly. A part of you hoped it was him, begging you to get off the train, to stay with him, husband be damned.

AKI

|   I hope I get to see you again soon.

|   Get home safe.

Soon. Somehow, despite the heavy feeling in your chest that you were leaving something behind, you found it in yourself to smile. . . .

Deciding to take the more scenic route home, you opted out of boarding the bullet train. You rode local instead. You didn't even mind that you had to transfer three times, or that the commute took eight hours. It gave you some time to finish up the book you had packed, and even more time to catch up on the sleep you had lost the night before.

More importantly, above all else, you wouldn't have to see your husband so soon.

By the time you finally stumbled into the house – haphazardly tugging your suitcase along with you, it was bedtime. You found yourself hoping that your husband had gone to bed early, so that he wouldn't come all up on you expecting some sort of "I missed you" sex.

You kicked your shoes off in the foyer, and pulled your suitcase down the corridor until the voice of your husband called your name.

"You home?"

Fuck.

"Yeah!" you huffed, reluctantly following his voice towards your bedroom. You had hoped to slip in unnoticed, crawl into bed, and avoid any conversation altogether.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on you as you entered. He looked familiar – brown hair and tired eyes searching your face – but his presence didn't bring you the peace it once did. You could see the tension in his jaw, the furrow in his brow. He was waiting for something, perhaps an explanation, an apology, or a confession.

"How was your week?" he asked, his voice neutral but his eyes piercing.

"It was fun!" you said, trying to sound casual. "Met up with some old friends, got to meet some new ones..."

Images of Aki and you together flashed through your mind, and you felt a pang of guilt.

"I stayed up to talk to you, you know," he said, his tone harder now.

Your heart dropped. "About what?"

"These new friends of yours," he said. "Wouldn't happen to be one of your coworkers, would it?"

Shit. Fuck. Shit, fuck. 

Did he know? Knowing him, he could have been drunk and jealous, and just talking out of his ass. Still, a part of you couldn't help but wonder.

You froze. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm saying I don't know what you thought you were doing in Tokyo," he said, his voice rising. "But word travels in Public Safety. There are rumors about you dancing around with a little Captain, or some shit."

He does know.

"That's ridiculous!" you snapped, your defensiveness rising. "The Captain and I are mutual friends with Himeno. She made introductions, and he bought us a round of drinks. They're blowing it out of proportion."

"Are they?" he shouted, standing up. "Then, you should really, really start clearing your name. You could very well have fucked him already."

"It's not like that!" you retorted, tears stinging your eyes. It was like that. "It's not my fault that people have nothing better to talk about. I'm in love with you, and only you."

You were lying. You knew you were lying. He knew you were lying.

"Bull shit," he scoffed. "We haven't made love in two weeks."

"I don't want to do this right now," you muttered, turning away. He was insufferable, as per usual. "I'm exhausted."

"You're always exhausted," he shot back. "Always too tired to talk, too tired to fuck. Then you go off on this work trip, and there are rumors about you at some party. What am I supposed to think?"

You felt a mix of guilt and frustration. "You're my husband. You're supposed to trust me," you said quietly. "I didn't cheat on you. Don't be a dick, it was just a dance!"

Truly, the irony of the entire conversation was not lost on you.

"Want to know the truth? I really don't give a shit if you cheat on me or not. I can have another woman in here tomorrow to take your place," Your husband's next words were cold and unforgiving, "You want to keep your white-picket-fence life? Then stop embarrassing me in public."

With tears streaming down your face, you slipped into a nightgown you had hung up on the dresser. The bed felt cold and uninviting as you slid under the covers, your husband's eyes still boring into you. You turned your back to him, staring at the wall, trying to will yourself to sleep. 

The damage was already done, the emotional distance between you and your husband growing wider with each passing moment. The bed felt even colder now, and you closed your eyes, hoping for sleep to come quickly and take you away from the reality you were living.

Lying there, you couldn't help but replay the moments with Aki in your mind. The way he made you feel alive, seen, and wanted. You felt a deep pang of guilt, knowing you had betrayed your husband's trust. Yet, part of you couldn't bring yourself to regret it entirely. 

The fact of the matter was that Aki had filled a void in your life, one that you hadn't even realized was there until he came along.

Aki was ten times the man your husband could ever dream of being.

The hustle and bustle of Tokyo played in your mind, the energy of the people, and the warmth of a certain dark, handsome Captain. You even found yourself missing Himeno, her infectious laughter and the way she always knew how to lighten the mood. But most of all, you missed the secret moments with Hayakawa, the stolen kisses, the way he breathed passion into your name. Your heart ached with the memory of it all.

"I hope I'm wrong," Your husband said, his voice low and steady – a reminder of all that you had lost by settling down with him so young. "But, above all else, I hope I don't have to tell you that cheating is insulting to a man like me and stupid for a woman like you."

A man like him. You could nearly laugh at the prospect of your husband being grouped into any sort of high category. He was a piece of shit. That's what he was, and it was getting progressively harder to ignore that fact.

"Goodnight," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. You wouldn't glorify him with a response.

Your husband lay down beside you. 

"Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Your heart raced. "No," you said, your voice barely steady. "There's nothing."

You swallowed hard, the weight of your guilt pressing down on you. 

He's too late, you thought to yourself.  .

8:38 PM [New Message]

[Play]

[Automated: Playing Voicemail from 'Makima']

"Hello. I'm sorry for calling so late. I hope I didn't disturb you. I wanted to speak with you at your earliest convenience. I have some concerns about one of my new recruits, and I'm uncertain that he will function well in his group. Would it be possible to request you for backup? You did such great work last time, and I know you won't fail me. A little help would be greatly appreciated, at least until we recover from the tremendous losses we just suffered. Thank you, again, for all that you do. Please call me back and let me know if you're available this week. Again, all expenses will be paid. Goodbye."

[Automated: You have no new messages.] .

The work week dragged on, each day blurring into the next. Every task felt like a mountain to climb, your thoughts repeatedly drifting back to Tokyo and the emotional whirlwind you'd left behind.

A few days later, as you stood in the kitchen, the aroma of cooking filling the room, you decided it was time to share your news. Your husband walked in, his mood noticeably sour.

"I've got news," you said, trying to sound casual as you stirred the pot on the stove. "I'm being reassigned to Tokyo again."

His eyes narrowed immediately. "Tokyo? Again? What is this, some kind of joke?"

"It's not a joke," you said, turning to face him. "It's a new assignment from Makima."

"Makima's orders?" he echoed, his voice rising in frustration. "So you're just going to pack up and leave again? How many times do I have to watch you walk out that door?"

"It's not like that," you said, struggling to keep your voice steady. "This is a work assignment. It's out of my control."

"Out of your control?" he snapped. "Its your job. You can say no."

"I didn't want to," You said. "I would be getting paid almost double. What did you want me to do?"

"Quit, like I've been telling you to do for the past few years," He replied. "When are you going to let me take care of you? I could make you a stay at home wife. You don't need this job."

You. A housewife. You, being trapped inside of the house all day – all of your ambitions and dreams and achievements being reduced to your status as a homemaker. That wasn't your life. It wasn't what you wanted for yourself.

Why wouldn't he take the hint?

"I'm not gonna quit. I want to work," you said, feeling a pang of defensiveness. "I need to go to Tokyo for said work. To get paid more. It's not about escaping you."

"You don't even see how you're doing exactly that. Run off, then. Go back to Tokyo."

"It's not like that," you said, trying to explain. "Life's been overwhelming. I'm not trying to run off, I just–"

"Overwhelming?" he scoffed. "You were full of energy over there. You had time for everyone else but none left for me."

Dick.

"It wasn't like that!" you said, your frustration bubbling over. "I was catching up with friends. It was a chance to get away from all of this. You cant– I won't let you criticize me for having a life outside of this marriage."

"Is that what you call it?" he snapped. "A life outside of our marriage? While I'm stuck here, waiting for my wife to come home, barely even recognizing her when she does?"

"That's not fair," you said, tears welling up. "I care about you. But it's been hard for me, too. I've been dealing with a lot."

"Dealing with a lot?" he repeated, his face reddening. "Do you even realize how distant you've become? We barely have sex anymore. We hardly talk. What kind of marriage is this?"

"I don't know," you admitted, feeling the sting of his words. "I'm tired. Maybe I would want to fuck you if you... I dunno... maybe, helped me out once in a while. You never even lift a finger around here. I'm working just as hard as you, and yet you are the one who gets to come home to a home-cooked meal."

"This wouldn't be an issue if you just quit," he shot back, taking a step closer. "But you're too busy being an independent woman, right? I own this house. It's in my name."

"I pay half of the bills," You added.

"But it's my house," He corrected you. "On paper, it belongs to me. Don't get out of line."

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" you said, your voice breaking. "I wish you would stop– fucking– pointing fingers at me for once and realize that there's a bigger issue here. We're struggling, and I don't– it's not my job to fix us."

"You can't fix shit. This is us," he said, his voice growing colder. "This is marriage. The difference between me and you is that I'm stuck dealing with this mess while you run off and live your life. How am I supposed to just accept that?"

"You don't have to accept it," you said, frustration rising. "But you need to understand that I'm not doing this to hurt you. I need to have a life of my own."

"A life of your own," he echoed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "It seems like you're more interested in escaping the life you have than in fixing what's broken between us."

"Stop it," you said, your anger flaring. You set your spoon down on the stove, turned the burner off, and turned to face the man you were supposed to love. "This conversation is over."

"I don't get it," he said, his eyes darkening. "Are you happier away from me? Are you saying that you're not interested in being here, in working on our relationship?"

"That's not what I'm saying," you said, lip quivering with anger. "But I can't just flip a switch and make everything perfect. I'm trying. You can't wall me up inside this house and expect me to be your bitch forever. I want to– I need to have a life."

"Be grateful for the life I gave you," he spat, his voice harsh and final, dripping with hatred and venom. It could not have been more apparent. Your husband hated you. "I'm the one who provides for you. I'm the reason you have a home and a life. Without me, you'd have nothing."

"Even with you, I have nothing," you laughed humorlessly. "There's nothing here. Nothing between us. I'm starting to believe I shouldn't have married you to begin with. Lord knows we were fine before, but you just had to settle down in the countryside."

You froze. The coldness of your own words cut through the air like ice. Before you could take it back, apologize, even, his hand lashed out, striking you across the face. The shock of the blow left you reeling, your cheek stinging with pain.

He spoke slowly, like he was sounding it out. His eyes wide, he apologized– "Honey, wait, I–"

"Fuck you," you whispered, the tears falling freely now. 

You turned on your heel and fled to your room, your heart pounding.

Inside, you slammed the door and leaned against it, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts. The pain in your cheek was sharp, but you forced yourself to focus on something else. 

You began unpacking your suitcase, using the physical task to distract yourself from the emotional turmoil.

You tugged the zipper open, revealing neat piles of folded clothes. You began to pull them out, laying at the foot of your bed. As you reached the bottom of the suitcase, you uncovered the painting Aki had gifted you, carefully wrapped in bubble wrap. 

You unwrapped it slowly, revealing the vibrant colors and delicate brushstrokes. The painting was a tangible piece of Tokyo, a reminder of a time when you had felt truly alive – the flowers in the field. The strong tree. The blue sky, and the warm, warm sun.

It had no place in your home.

Your room felt cold and impersonal, a stark contrast to the warmth of the painting. You knew it didn't belong here, in this bedroom that felt more like a prison than a home – with gray walls and gray floors. But as you looked at the painting, a deep longing settled in your chest.

You glanced around the room, your eyes landing on a framed photo of you and your husband. It was one that had been taken at your wedding reception. He was grinning ear to ear, holding you close to his side. You were smiling, too, face smeared with cake – hopeful for your future with the man you loved.

Without hesitation, you took it down and replaced it with the painting. As you hung it up, you felt a rush of warmth spread through your chest, a flicker of happiness amid the darkness.

Standing back, you admired the painting. For a brief moment, the pain and anger seemed to melt away, replaced by the comforting memory of Aki. Oddly enough, staring at the painting long enough, you felt as if you could almost feel his presence, smell his warm cologne whipped together with the scent of the nicotine that lingered on his uniform. You felt as if you could practically feel him behind you, hands resting on your waist, soft lips pressing tender kisses to the valley of your neck.

And, only then did you really grasp the gravity of your situation. You were fucked. Completely and totally fucked.

Aki's text from the train sat heavy and unanswered still in your pocket. A week had passed, and you hadn't dared to text him back. 

You didn't need to open it to know what it said. You had stared at it for so long that the image was practically ingrained into your memory.

I hope I get to see you again soon.

Get home safe.

You shouldn't. You knew you shouldn't. But you could feel the weight of your phone in your pocket, the weight of your desire rearing its ugly head during a moment of weakness, and you couldn't help yourself. Before you could stop and think twice about it, you were flipping your phone open and browsing your contact book, pressing 'ok' on a name you most definitely should have deleted by now.

The phone rang once. Twice. A third time. 

Then it clicked.

"Hello?"

"Hey," You exhaled, relieved that your call had gone through. You crossed your legs, plopping down onto the bed.

"Hey, troublemaker."

The wave of heat that washed over you at the sound of his voice was uncanny. He filled you with a fantastic sort of giddiness that you hadn't felt in years – you didn't even care that your husband was about to eat dinner in the next room, just as he didn't seem to care that you had been M.I.A. for the past week.

In his typical fashion, he made you forget about your surroundings. Right then, it was just you and him, and that's all that mattered.

"Did you miss me?" Aki asked.

"Only a little," You replied. You couldn't help but smile. "What are you up to right now? Do you have time to talk?"

"Of course. I always have time for you," He answered warmly. His voice was deep and tender, and it made you melt all over the bed. "I'm laying in bed right now. Just had a smoke. How did you know I was thinking about you?"

There were so many things you wanted to say to him – I miss you, come get me, he hit me. I need you – and yet you couldn't help but bask in the comforting silence.

"Lucky guess," you said, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. "I've been thinking about you too. What's it like there? Anything exciting?"

"It's Tokyo," he said with a lazy lilt to his voice. He sounded tired, as he always did. It was endearing. "Could be better, but honestly, I'd trade it all just to be with you right now."

You felt a shiver of excitement at his words. The warmth of his voice and the lightness of the conversation made you forget, if only for a moment, the coldness of your current reality.

You knew it was bad. Still, you grinned, rolling onto your stomach while you took the call, kicking your feet.

"So, what's the weather like there?" You asked, trying to keep the tone light but unable to mask the undercurrent of flirtation.

You would say anything if it meant you would get to hear his voice a little longer.

"Warm, surprisingly," Aki replied, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone."Have you been holding up okay over there? You haven't spoken to me in a week."

"Probably for the better," you said, a laugh escaping you. "Even now, I shouldn't be talking to you. I'm sitting here in this freezing room, and your words are the only thing warming me up."

"Good," he said, his tone suggestive. "Maybe one day soon I can warm you up in person. Until then, just know I'm thinking about you."

You rested your head on the bed, the phone pressed to your ear, feeling as if you were floating in the warmth of his words. Despite the rational part of your mind telling you to be cautious, you found yourself lost in the conversation, savoring every last moment you could.

"Are you still there?" Aki's voice came through, warm and inviting, like a soft blanket in the coolness of your room.

"Yeah," you replied, settling into the bed, propping yourself up with pillows. "I'm still here. Just... don't want to hang up."

"Glad to hear it," he said, his tone teasing. "I'm not ready to let go of you either. What are you thinking about?"

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. "Just thinking about how nice it is to hear your voice. It's been such a rough day, and talking to you made me feel a little better."

"Wanna talk about it?" Aki asked softly. "I've been thinking about you like crazy."

"Really?" you asked. "What do you see when you think of me?"

Aki chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine. "I see me and you – in that little black dress of yours – and the way your kisses tasted."

You felt a flush of warmth at his words, the intensity of your feelings bubbling up. "You probably shouldn't," you admitted. "You'll catch feelings."

"You're making it hard to stay focused on anything but you," Aki said, his voice growing more serious. 

You laughed softly. "You're good at this, you know. Making me feel like I'm the only person in the world."

"That's because you are," he said earnestly. "For me, anyway. Wanna talk about your day?"

You shifted in bed, pulling the blankets around you as if trying to draw closer to him through the phone. "I don't really feel like talking about it."

Aki's voice was tender and soothing. "That's fine. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?"

"I don't know," You sighed, the sound a mix of contentment and longing. You felt weak. "I just want to hear your voice. I need you."

"I need you too," he said, his voice softening. "I had a dream about you, you know? It felt like I was back in that hotel room with you again, watching you get ready to go home," A pause, then he added, "I should've made you miss that train."

You closed your eyes, letting the image of a shirtless Aki slipping into his work slacks flood your memory. "You're terrible."

He's one fine piece of ass.

Aki's laugh was deep and gentle, like the tides of the ocean tugging at the shore. "I am. I'm a terrible, rotten man, and it's all your fault. Have you been thinking about me, too?"

You glanced at the painting on the wall, feeling a pang of an emotion you couldn't quite place, "More than I'd like to admit."

"Hold on, I just heard something break in the kitchen. I think my nightmare roommate is up," Aki said. "I have to hang up. Promise you'll text and call more often, though. I've been worried sick."

"I promise," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your face flushed like you were a lovestruck schoolgirl. "Goodnight, Aki."

"Goodnight, troublemaker," he replied softly. "I'll be dreaming of you."

a/n: oh nooooooo... what do yall think is gonna happen? (i know, but yk....). but actually i hope you loved it, I loved writing sexy phone aki ugh it makes me wanna write more of him. I hope you all dont hate me too much for keeping them apart. (i'll make it up to u soon, trust.) anyway, QOTD: wyd if you were y/n? x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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