#you have no idea how much I love this chapter

[lovecla]

STUCK WITH YOU ; QUINN HUGHES.

❄��� pair: quinn hughes x y/n.

❄︎ synopsis: of all the things y/n thought she was going to do on christmas eve, being stuck with her sister’s brother-in-law, quinn hughes, wasn't one of them.

❄︎ word count: 5.6k

❄︎ chapter warnings: unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, use of the word slut (once), softdom!quinn, dirty talk.

💌 from me to you: merry christmas, babies 🩶 i hope all of you had a great time and lots of delicious food. 1st of all, i’d like to apologise bc i got carried away with the word count! 2nd of all, i’m sorry about how dirty this is… this was supposed to be wholesome and cute but i don’t know what happened 😭 sorry…. anyways, as always, forgive me for this poorly written smut and share with me your thoughts! i love you! ♡

𖧷

Ever Since your sister started dating one of the most known hockey players, Luke Hughes, your life changed— for the better, that is. It’s not like you’re used to all the attention, but it’s nice to attend parties and meet your favorite hockey players for free.

But, the only issue you didn’t see coming when she announced that she was, in fact, very much in love with the youngest of the Hughes brothers is that now you have to constantly coexist with your long time celebrity crush, Quinn Hughes.

It’s an old thing, your situation with Quinn Hughes. You first started noticing him during his time in college, when he was just eighteen.

None of your friends understood what was so special about him but you just told them they didn’t have to: Quinn Hughes is one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, and you’ll stand by that until the end of your days.

When your sister decided that she would make Luke Hughes hers, you remember laughing and saying: He’ll be yours when Quinn Hughes’s mine.

Turns out, Luke is your sister’s.

And, well. Quinn’s not yours.

When you’re around him, during dinners and parties, you almost don’t even acknowledge him. It’s just because you don’t know how to be around him without immediately blushing and cringing at your own words.

It’s like you’re a teenager all over again, but what else can you do, really. He’s attractive, he’s funny and he cares about the people he loves; you cannot not be in love with someone like him.

But now you’re his brother’s sister in law and have been for the past year. You have been doing a great job at not staying in the same room as him for too long, and even if you can come off as rude or mean, it’s better than to get caught while watching him with lovey eyes.

It’s December 24th, and you’re on your way to your sister’s house, where you’d spend Christmas with her— and since she’s only arriving later that night because of work, you’ll be there earlier to arrange things for her.

You’re annoyed by the fact that she has to work until late during Christmas time but at least you’ll get to spend the night with at least one of your family members, since your parents are out of town.

What’s also annoying is the fact that it’s cold and snowing. Not just normal, winter type of snow but North-Pole type of snow. You’re shivering inside your car, because your heater is broken and you stupidly decided that it’d be a great idea to wear just leggings and a sweatshirt.

You park in front of her house, sighing and trying to move as fast as your frozen limbs could. You’re also carrying a hundred bags with you, because decorating is your favorite part of Christmas and knowing your sister and her workaholic personality, you know that she probably doesn’t even have her tree out of her attic yet— so you’ll have to do the whole decorating thing by yourself.

Which you silently prefer because there’s nothing you hate more when people try to dictate where your ornaments should go.

You ring her doorbell first, before dumbly realizing that she’s probably at work already, so you just start looking for the spare key she gave you when the door opens, making you lift your head up with a smile, only to drop it two seconds later.

“Oh.”

Quinn’s looking back at you with a polite smile, and you’re not sure that what you’re seeing is actually real because why the hell would Quinn Hughes be at your sister’s house during Christmas?

“Hi, Y/n.” He says, leaning against the door frame.

You frown without even noticing it. Why didn’t she warn you that he would be at her house?

You’ve been staring at him for what feels to be hours, when he speaks again: “Aren’t you… cold?”

You realize that he’s right and you are cold. Cold and tired because you’re still holding the heavy bags, so you just nod and watch as he opens the door more and reaches for the bags in your hand, picking all four of them up like they’re not heavy at all and letting you in.

You’re still in shock and shivering when you close the door behind you, welcoming the warm air inside the house, thankful for your sister’s amazing heating system.

Quinn walks back to the living room and you grab your phone, dialing your sister’s number and putting the phone against your ear.

“Y/n? Are you—”

“Why didn’t you tell me he would be at your place?!” You shout slash whisper, hiding behind her clothes rack.

“Who’s he? Why are you whispering?”

“What do you mean who’s he?” You hiss. “I’m talking about him!”

“Who’s… Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

Her laugh makes you blush. “I didn’t think he’d arrive so soon. I told him he could come later because you’d be the only one there so I just guessed… well. Nevermind.”

“What do I do?!” you sound so desperate it’s almost funny. “I can’t be here! You know I—”

“Y/n, stop freaking out. It’s just Quinn,” you can almost hear her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Go decorate and do all that stuff you like to do during Christmas. I’ll pick up the food goodies when I leave work, so please just… be normal.”

“What do you mean be normal I can’t—”

“I gotta go. I love you. Bye.”

She hangs up the call and leaves you staring at your phone screen, contemplating how you would scape when it was so cold outside and Quinn’s already seen you so—

“Y/n? Are you playing hide and seek?”

You immediately get out of your sister’s clothes and smile awkwardly, almost opening the front door and standing in the middle of the road, waiting for someone to run you over.

“No, I—” you stutter, looking everywhere but him. “I was just… talking to my sister…”

“I see,” he says. “Is she okay? It’s snowing outside, and you’re still shivering.”

How the hell did he notice that?, you ask yourself, before nodding.

“She is, yeah. She’s working.”

You step further inside the house, walking past Quinn like he’s some type of virus. Besides the huge tree sitting in the corner by the TV, your sister’s house is poorly decorated, just like you predicted, so at least you’ll have something to busy yourself with until she arrives.

“She told me she’d work until late and she said I could come and help you out with your decorations until she and Luke arrive.” He explains, and you turn around, raising your eyebrow at him, confused.

“Luke’s coming?” You ask.

“He is, yes.”

“I thought… I thought you guys would spend Christmas with your parents.” You say, because that’s what you heard your sister saying.

“Well, they’re coming too,” he chuckles, putting his hand inside his front pockets. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you anything?”

“No, I thought—” you start, but then you bite your lips, giving up mid-sentence. You didn’t want to sound rude by saying I thought it’d be the two of us only so you just stay quiet. “Nevermind. It’s nice that you all get to spend Christmas together.”

Quinn stares at you for a few seconds before nodding. “I’m sorry if you’re upset.”

You frown, shaking your head.

“I’m not, I promise. I just wasn’t expecting all of you,” you reply, embarrassed. “I brought my Grinch sweater…”

He laughs, and you have to stop yourself from smiling too.

“It’s okay. I’ll wear my Cindy Lou one.”

You want to yell at him and tell him to stop being nice, but you already know that’s just how he is. That’s one of the reasons you like him so much.

You look outside your sister’s big window and frown, noticing that the snow is only falling faster, and the street is white everywhere now. Even your car is barely visible.

“It’s getting ugly,” you say, pressing your lips into a line. “I hope it stops soon.”

“I don’t know about that…” he comments, sitting on the couch next to your bags. “I did see a blizzard warning in my weather app today.”

“What?” you almost shout. “Are you sure it was for today?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s why I came earlier. I thought it was dangerous for you to stay here alone.”

You want to ask him what one thing has to do with the other but you’re too busy blushing over his sentence to do anything else.

“I’d be just fine, but thank you,” you mumble. Sighing, you look down at your clothes. “I’m going to change and then start decorating.” You announce, not even sure why.

“You should probably put on something warmer,” he looks down at your clothes before running his fingers through his hair. “It’d be a shame if you caught a cold.”

You don’t say anything, just nod and make your way to your sister’s bedroom, happy that you’re both the same size. Once you find a comfort, two piece set wool outfit, you grab it and change, immediately welcoming the warmth it brings.

You also spend more time in your sister’s bedroom than you should, sitting on her bed and contemplating what you should do.

It’s not like Quinn’s a bad person or someone difficult to be around, but you get shy really easily and he happens to master the art of making you embarrassed, even if it’s not in a bad way.

He’s probably not even aware of it, too, because he’s just a really kind person and that’s just how he treats everyone he likes.

He doesn’t like us, your brain reminds you, he’s just polite.

Whatever.

You get back to the living room and find him still sitting on the couch, watching some random, Christmas movie. You reach for your bags, trying to open them as silently as you could, not wanting to disturb him.

You remove the plastic boxes full of ornaments and distribute them around you, separating them by color and size. It’s therapeutic to you, and it helps to calm your brain down.

Soon, the fact that Quinn’s in the same room as you, alone, doesn’t even cross your mind. You’re having fun decorating your sister’s empty tree, making it beautifully decorated and ready for the night.

After what’s probably thirty minutes, you reach for the last item inside your boxes, which is a bright, yellow star, heavily bedazzled. It’s been yours since you and your sister moved out of your parents’ house and you love it more than all of your other Christmas decorations combined.

The only issue is that it should sit on top of the tree, and usually it wouldn’t be a problem, because your sister had been letting you decorate her tiny tree for the past years, and you’ve been able to reach it just fine. But this year she decided that she wanted to challenge you and she bought a tall one, so now you can’t really reach the top, and you only realize it after jumping for a few minutes and not even touching the top once.

“Do you need any help?”

Quinn’s calm voice startles you, and you hold back a scream. You had forgotten that he was sitting just behind you, and probably had been watching you embarrassing yourself for the past three minutes.

You’re feeling your cheeks warm when you answer: “No, I… well. Maybe?”

He chuckles, getting up. “Does your sister have a ladder?”

“No, she doesn’t,” you roll your eyes. “She says someone as tall as her should do just fine without one.”

“I don’t understand,” he laughs. “She’s just a few inches taller than you. There’s barely a difference.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her.” You say, annoyed. “I can just grab a chair—”

“No, let me help you.” He walks towards you, and when you’re just about to tell him he’s not going to reach the top by himself either he does something that sends you to another world.

He picks you up effortlessly, putting you down on his left shoulder, and hands you the star like he wasn’t holding another human on one of his shoulders.

You put the star on the top of the tree, moving automatically because your brain hasn't been working properly ever since you stepped into your sister’s house.

“Are you done?” he asks, and he doesn’t even sound tired. “Do you need me to hand you anything else or—”

“No, you can… put me down, please.” You mumble, blushing as he grabs your waist and slowly pulls you down until your feet are touching the floor.

He’s standing behind you, chest glued to your back, and you hold back a yelp, stepping away like his touch is deadly.

“Uh, thanks?” It sounds like a question, but you don’t repeat it again. You turn around, watching as he smiles and nods.

“It looks great, Y/n.”

You also smile, because you always do it whenever people compliment your decorations skills. “Thanks. Again.”

“Well,” he shrugs, looking around. “What do you want to do now?”

You mimic his move, looking around your sister’s living room.

“I mean, I don’t know,” you hum. “Maybe set the table? I know it’s early but—”

“Yeah. We can definitely do that.” He starts walking towards the kitchen and you freak out.

“What!” you yell, and he stops, turning back around and looking at you with confused, pretty eyes. “I mean— what do you mean we?”

“Oh,” he shrugs. “I thought I could help.”

“Are you… like… serious?” You frown.

He frowns back. “I was, yes… are you one of those people who don’t like when people try to help because you’re afraid they’ll end up messing up with your arrangements?”

“Well, yes and no,” you laugh, only to shake your head after. “But it’s not that. I’m sorry, I just… I’ve never seen a man get up to help before. Especially during Christmas.”

He seems to take a while to process what you had just said, but then he laughs, beautifully you’d say.

“They weren’t raised by Ellen Hughes, Y/n. I was.”

You smile, realizing you were utterly fucked. And not in a good way.

You and Quinn worked in silence, and even though you almost dropped the plates twice with how nervous you were, this moment will probably keep repeating itself forever inside your head, from the moment you wake up to the moment you'll go to sleep.

He’s calm and he listens to each one of your orders without hesitation, just nodding and doing as you say. He carries the heavy stuff and just lets you busy yourself with making everything pretty, which you do.

You’re about to tell him that you’re done when the TV catches your attention.

“Good evening, and Merry Christmas Eve, everyone. This is Nicholas Edwards reporting live with an urgent weather alert. It’s shaping up to be a Christmas Eve like no other—because we are in the midst of a blizzard that shows no signs of letting up anytime soon.”

“Oh my God,” you hear someone saying, and realize that it was you. You move until you’re standing in front of the TV, covering your mouth with your right hand.

“Right now, snow is coming down at an incredible rate, with visibility dropping rapidly. Winds are gusting up to 40 miles per hour, creating near whiteout conditions in many areas. And the latest forecast? The snow isn’t expected to stop until early tomorrow morning—Christmas Day! That means we’re looking at significant snowfall totals, possibly more than 18 inches in some spots.”

“Oh my God,” you repeat, looking at Quinn before looking back at the TV again.

“Officials are urging everyone to stay indoors tonight. If you don’t absolutely need to be out, don’t risk it. Roads are treacherous, power outages are a real possibility, and emergency crews are working hard to keep up.”

“What about my sister and your family?” you ask, almost rhetorically, because you know Quinn knows just as much as you. “They can’t come now because it’s dangerous.”

“I’ll try to call my parents,” he says, reaching for his phone already. “Can you call your sister, please?”

“Already doing it.” You say, dialing your sister’s number.

“So… you saw the news.” Is the first thing she says after picking up and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, Quinn and I did,” you say. “What are we going to do? It’s not safe for you to drive around and you’re definitely not driving thirty minutes back to your house in this weather.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighs. “Luke and I are together, though. He saw the news before I did and drove me to his and Jack’s apartment since it’s closer to my workplace…”

“So, you’ll stay at their place?” You frown.

“What else can I do, right?” she chuckles, but you can tell she’s just as upset as you. “At least you’re stuck with the sibling that knows how to cook.”

“Hey!” You hear one of Quinn’s brothers, probably Jack, yelling in the back.

“You’re probably right,” you mumble. “Well. We’ll see each other tomorrow then?”

“‘Course we will, bubba,” she sounds joyful again. “Merry Christmas, Y/n. I love you. Tell Quinn I said Merry Christmas to him too!”

“I will,” you nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “I love you too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

You stare at your phone screen until it turns black, and sigh. Quinn finishes his phone call and stares at you, blue, fond eyes looking at you with care.

“I guess you heard the same thing as me.” He says and you nod.

“They’re not coming.”

“And neither are my parents,” he sighs. “They’re stuck in their hotel. They’re not letting people leave.”

“God, this sucks,” you grunt, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “We don’t even have food. My sister was supposed to pick it up after she finished her shift but…”

“I’m sure I can figure something out,” Quinn says and you can tell he’s trying to sound positive. “Come on, stop pouting.”

You frown. “I wasn’t pouting.”

“Yes, you were,” he smiles. “You do that whenever something doesn’t go your way.”

“I— how do you even know that?” You ask, genuinely amused. He just shrugs and walks back to the kitchen, leaving you and your one hundred thoughts about him alone. “Quinn!”

Dinner goes well. It’s silent and calm, but not in an embarrassing, awkward way. Quinn knows how to cook really well, and his food makes you hold yourself back so you won’t kiss him.

His lips probably taste amazing, just like the rest of him. Sometimes, when your thoughts about how Quinn could make you feel good are too much, you slip your hands under your covers and touch yourself, while imagining your hands are his.

You always feel so deeply embarrassed afterwards, and it takes you a while to convince yourself that you’re not a maniac and getting horny after thinking of your sister’s boyfriend's incredibly hot brother is lowkey expected, because he looks like a God.

You both returned to your bedrooms after the clock hit midnight and you both called your families, with you sleeping in your sister’s room and Quinn sleeping in the spare bedroom.

Although, you haven’t even thought about closing your eyes and going to sleep, because you know you won’t be able to— not when Quinn has been nothing but kind to you the entire night and definitely not when he’s only two doors away from you.

You can feel your body starting to get hot, and you want to shout at it, telling yourself to let it go, because you and Quinn won’t ever be a thing.

You look at the clock sitting on your sister’s bedside table and sigh, reading the late hours. Two thirty-six a.m. and you’re nowhere near Dreamland.

Even though you’re basically at the entrance of Hornyland.

Shaking your head, you get up, deciding to brew some chamomile tea for you, since it always helps you feel sleepier and, hopefully, less horny.

The lukewarm air hits your bare thighs and you’re reminded that you’re not wearing any pants— just one of your sister’s oversized sweaters and panties.

You look around the dark house, watching as snow continues to fall outside, and make your way to the kitchen, walking past Quinn’s closed door and trying not to make any sound.

And you would’ve been successful with your task, if it weren’t for the one plastic cup that fell out of the cupboard when you tried to grab your sister’s kettle.

It fell on the floor and bounced three times before you managed to grab it again. You waited to see if you would hear Quinn’s door open, but since you didn’t, you moved on with your task. While you waited for your water to boil, you leaned against your sister’s island, resting your chin in your hand.

“I thought you were asleep.”

This time, you don’t hold back the yelp that comes out of your mouth. You were so worried about waking Quinn up that you hadn’t considered the fact that he, just like you, might as well not have been able to sleep.

He’s sitting on your sister’s couch, wearing sweatpants and nothing else, looking at you with an indecipherable expression. His entire body is illuminated by the moonlight, and he looks gorgeous.

“Quinn. You scared me,” you put your hand over your heart, feeling your cheeks warm when you realize the movement made your sweater go up, and now Quinn probably saw your underwear. “Uh—”

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” he gets up, and he does look apologetic. He gets closer to where you were standing and you can help but take a take back. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head. “No. You?”

“I can’t either,” he says. “Too many thoughts.”

You desperately want to ask him what kind of thoughts are keeping him away from his bed, but you remember that it isn’t your place. And the best thing you can do for yourself right now is stay away from him.

“I— I’ll leave you to it then—”

“Why are you always running away from me?”

His serious tone makes you stop. You look up and stare at his eyes, looking like a child who had just been caught eating sweets before dinner.

Your answer is only natural: “I’m not?”

“Yes, you are,” he steps closer, and the distance between the two of you is now shorter. “Did I do something?”

“What?” you gasp. “No, of course not!”

“Then, you just don’t like me?”

“Gosh, why is it with the Hughes that you’re always so straightforward?” you mumble, frustrated. “I promise you, nothing’s wrong.”

“Is it because you want me to fuck you?” He raises his brow and you almost drop dead in front of him.

“What.”

It’s almost comical how your eyes double in size and how your mouth opens, just like in the cartoons. You’re trying really hard not to pack your things and leave, because you’re sure something possessed Quinn.

“I’m not dumb, y’know,” he starts. “I can tell when someone’s interested in me, and you aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Quinn—”

“At first,” he continues, paying you no mind. “I thought you were just shy. Then, I realized you only acted that way with me, but I thought you just didn’t like me. But…”

He lifts his hand up and caresses your cheek, the touch making you shiver instantly.

“Would someone who doesn’t like me stare at me like you do?” He keeps touching your face, the light feather touches barely there, but keeping you restless anyway. “It’s so sweet when you blush like that.”

“Quinn…” you try, once again. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I—”

“Uncomfortable?” he chuckles, like the word alone is enough to make him laugh. “No, sweetheart, you made me hard.”

You blush, thankful that the moonlight isn’t enough to show your red cheeks. “O-Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” he smiles, lifting your face just slightly with his thumb on your chin. “Can I kiss you, Y/n?”

I thought you’d never ask, you think. “Yes,” is what you say.

His lips taste like peppermint and his touch on your skin feels like fire. He presses your body against the counter, the cold marble hitting the back of your naked thighs and making you shiver.

It was a pleasant contrast, though: the warmth of his hands holding you close with the coldness of the stone making you shiver.

He kissed you fervently and you moaned inside his mouth, forgetting your shyness and running your fingers through his silky, soft hair. It was like opening presents on Christmas morning, because ever since you were a teenager you’ve been wanting to get your hands on him and now—

“You were right,” you say, breathless. Quinn tilts his head to the side, confused. “I want you to f-fuck me.”

He smirks, mischievously, and it’s probably one of the hottest things you have ever seen.

“Here?” he asks, chuckling.

“No,” you laugh. “My sister would kill me.”

“Mhm.” It’s all he says before picking you up once again, manhandling you however he wanted for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.

His bed is untouched when he lays you on it, a clear signal that he hadn’t even laid on it yet. Your sweater rode up, leaving your belly and your panties exposed.

Even though you’re not the type of girl to get embarrassed while having sex, you can feel your cheeks getting warm under Quinn’s lustful gaze. You have imagined this situation so many times before but you never actually thought your dreams would come true, so all of this is still hard for you to take in.

“I can actually hear your brain thinking, Y/n,” Quinn chuckles, standing in front of you. The outline of his dick is so noticeable it has your mouth dry.

“It’s not everyday your crush of years take you to bed,” you let out, only realising what you had just said when you watch his eyebrow going up, and a malicious smile decorate his beautiful face. “I mean—”

“Trust me, Y/n, if I hadn’t spent the last year thinking you hated me, you would’ve ended up in my bed from the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

He leans forward, then starts to pull your panties down. It’s embarrassing to say the least because you know that the fabric which was once pearly, cotton white, is now transparent and ruined. Quinn doesn’t seem to mind that— in fact, the smirk on his face just continues to grow.

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” he says, and you almost choke on your own spit. “Been thinking about you for so long I’m half convinced this is just another dream.”

He drops your underwear somewhere, and places his index finger between your wet folds, the cold touch contrasting with your hotness. He rubs, up and down, slowly and steady. It has you biting your lips, hard.

“Was it like that with you too, Y/n?” he asks, tone one octave deeper. “Endless dreams of how I would fuck you senseless, leave you wet and whimpering in my sheets, pussy dripping with my cum.”

He kept getting closer to your clit each time he opened his mouth to talk, but he still wasn’t touching it, which was starting to frustrate you.

“Quinn—”

“I’d always wake up hard, with my dick throbbing inside my pants, and you know what I’d do?”

He places his finger on your engorged clit, but doesn’t do anything, just— waits.

“Ask me what I would do, Y/n.” He orders, and you moan before complying.

“What, ah, what would you do?” you ask, and he starts moving his finger again. “Ah.”

“I’d fuck my hand. Wrap my dick around them, holding it tightly, imagining it was your cunt squeezing me like that,” he confesses, opening your legs more, leaving you spread in front of him like you’re nothing but a cheap whore. “And I’d come so hard, imagining I was filling you up. In the next morning, I’d shake hands with you, watching you give me that sweet smile of yours, not even knowing that I had just used it to touch myself while imagining it was you.”

He pressed two fingers on your hole, making you clench around nothing while he seemed to be having fun with your struggle.

“Was it like that with you, too?” he asks again, but you can tell by his reaction that he wasn’t expecting you to answer. Yet, you do it anyway.

“N-not dreams,” you breathe, as he inserts two of his fingers inside you, blue eyes never leaving yours. “When I couldn’t sleep, I’d, ah, touch myself, and pretend it was you.”

“Yeah?” he hums, sinking his fingers deeper inside you, the wet sound of sex leaving you dizzy. “Such a naughty, little slut.”

You moan, and Quinn stops holding back as he starts finger fucking you, finding your sweet spot and curling his fingers up until he had you trashing under him. You took pride in knowing your body and mastering the art of touching yourself, but not even in your wildest dreams you’d imagine that having something inside you could feel this good.

You’re not even holding back your sounds, you just let Quinn hear how insane he drives you, and good you’re feeling. You have your eyes closed— because holding eye contact with Quinn might be too much for you to handle— and your boobs exposed, since your sweater rode all the way up.

You can feel your orgasm starting to build up and just when you’re about to warn Quinn about it, he pulls his fingers back, making you cry, loudly.

“Wha— why?” you sound needy and desperate but you pay it no mind.

Quinn smiles, so sweet and kind that you wouldn’t even imagine what came out of his mouth afterwards.

“You’ll come on my cock tonight, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it.”

The rest of what happens is basically history.

He removes his sweatpants and his dick hits his stomach, the tip almost purple with how red it was. The precum leaking from it made you lick your lips, imagining how good it would feel to have that in your mouth.

He throws the pants somewhere, and lays on top of you, right in the middle of your spread thighs. He looks down and holds his dick, rubbing it up and down on your folds, mixing your wetness with his, and just the view is almost enough to make you come.

He rubs the tip on your clit, and you watch as your swollen, needy button throbs under the nasty touch, and how your pussy leaves his dick glistening with how wet you were.

“I’ll fuck you now, okay?” His voice is calm, and soft, different from previously. You nod, smiling shyly. “Words, baby.”

“‘Mkay,” you answer, closing your eyes as he inserts himself inside you, slowly.

You can feel your walls opening up for him, and even though you’ve had sex before, nothing will ever top this. He’s thick, and you can feel him everywhere, deeper and deeper.

“Holy shit, Quinn,” you say, turning your hands into fists.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he hisses, putting his hands on each side of your face. “Squeezing me so good, fuck, Y/n, I might come in seconds if you keep squeezing me like that.”

He removes his dick from you, leaving just the tip, only to slam it back in you, fucking you senseless, just like he told you. The smell of sex and sweat filled the room almost as quick as the tears fell from your eyes, the feeling of finally getting what— or who— you wanted making you cry tears of joy.

He kept fucking you, and once his lips found yours once again, you knew you were done. You came on his dick, like he said you’d do, moaning inside his mouth and pulling his hair, harshly.

“Fuck, Quinn, uh,” you inhaled his scent as his naked body engulfed yours completely. “Fuck, fuck.”

“It’s like you were made to, uh, take my cock,” he grunts, his thrusts getting sloppier, a clear sign that he was about to come. “Say it, baby, tell me what you were made for.”

“Quinn—”

“Say it, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“I was made to take y-your cock,” you sob. “O-only yours.”

“Only mine?” you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Only yours.”

“Good,” thrust, “Girl.” Thrust.

He takes his dick out of you just a few seconds before he comes, and the loss of it makes you whimper and hide your face in his neck. The warm feeling of his come against your used, swollen cunt is enough to get another orgasm out of you, even if a little bit weaker this time.

You both stay silent, only the sounds of your breaths filling up the room. The weight of his body on top of you is comforting, and even though you know he’s not putting all of his weight on top of you, you feel safe either way.

“Thank you,” you mumble, barely audible, since your face is still in his neck.

He chuckles, breathless. “What are you saying thank you for, baby? I should be the one saying thank you.”

“You just made all of my wet dreams come true,” you explain. “Even if we’re probably going to hell because no one should be having sex on Christmas.”

Quinn laughs and rolls to the side, resting his head on the pillow. “Touché, sweetheart, touché,” he turns his head to the side and looks at you. “Merry Christmas, Y/n.”

You smile. “Merry Christmas, Quinny.”

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist.

[pboogerswbb]

LET IT SNOW

Paige Bueckers x reader In which Paige and reader spend a snowy day babysitting reader's niece and nephew (loosely based on a request i got weeks ago) Warnings: fluff, suggestiveish? very very very sweet, will make you sick (fluff is very hard for me to write ok be nice) Wordcount: 2.9K A/C: happy christmas eve everyone <3 this is my christmas present to y'all so enjoy this while i take some time to rest and spend time with my family :) unfortunately that means you gotta wait for chapter 2 of so it goes for a little longer but i want to take a break for a few days from writing over christmas! i hope you understand. everyone who celebrates christmas pls spend it eating, drinking (if you're of age), and don't kill your family pls (i know that's much to ask over the holidays let's be real). i'll return to writing so it goes post christmas! MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS <3

-

“There’s a list of allergies on the fridge, if Mia throws a fit just put her in the stroller and walk her around for a bit, if she won’t calm down call me. Whatever you see in the fridge you can eat, and call me whenever! I’ll have my ringer up and-”

“Chloe-”

“and really call me whenever you need to! And have your ringer up too!”

“Chloe!”

Your aunt’s husband is pulling on her arm, trying to get her further than the front door but 10 minutes have already been spent going through everything for the day.

“Auntie Chlo we’ve babysat before. They’re in good hands,” you reassure, smiling brightly at her. She inhales deeply and chuckles when she realises how long she’s been rambling for.

“You’re right, the kids love you. Especially you Paige, they’ve missed you. Been showing them clips of your games!” Your aunt says, head tilting upwards to look at the blonde girl standing behind you, hands wrapped around your waist. 

You and Paige had been dating for over a year now, celebrating your first of what would be many anniversaries. In that short amount of time the blonde had made her way into the depths of your closest circle, becoming a part of your family. It happened effortlessly, the way she fit into your life, the way she clicked with your relatives. You swore they loved her more than you at this point. This was about to be the first Christmas she ever spent with your family, and just the idea of her with all your loved ones made your chest fill with warmth.

So when your aunt Chloe called you in a crisis on Christmas Eve, her babysitter getting sick at the last minute, you and Paige were quick to agree to look after your nearly 2-year-old niece Mia and 7-year-old nephew Leo. 

“Go! We got this aight,” Paige reassures, resting her chin on the top of your head as she does.

Pulled away by her husband, your auntie waves goodbye and closes the door, leaving you and Paige alone with the kids standing behind you. Before you can even react, Mia’s lower lip begins to quiver, the sight of her mother gone upsetting the small child. 

“Uh oh,” you mumble, Paige swiftly making her way to the little girl and picking her up, pouting her own lower lip to mirror the child.

“Are you sad because you miss mama? She’ll be back later, I promise,” Paige coos to Mia, rocking her in her arms. She’s wearing a white t-shirt despite the snow outside, for some reason she was always warm, and her biceps were growing more prominent as she held the child by her hip. The sight of Paige comforting your niece made your heart flutter, making it hard to tear your eyes away. watching Mia bury her face into the crook of Paige’s neck.

“We’ve got a really fun day planned for you!” You gleam at both of the children, ruffling Leo’s hair. He laughs but pushes your hand off, running to the kitchen.

“Can I have a cookie?” The boy asks, clearly taking advantage of the moment that his parents’ watchful eyes weren’t around.

“No-” you start but Paige is already following him to the kitchen. She was such a pushover, always had been with the kids. Just some pouting, eyes batting and she was ready to bend every which way for them.

“Paige!” You complain as the blonde easily reaches to the top shelf, grabbing a jar of chocolate chip cookies.

“What?” She asks unbothered by your scolding, handing a cookie to Leo, and taking a bite of one herself. “Wanted a cookie,” she mumbles, her mouth full.

“Cookie! Gimme!” Mia babbles, short hands reaching for the cookie your girlfriend is holding between her teeth.

“Oh good God…” you groan, rubbing your forehead, already knowing this was going to be a long day if the kids had the blonde wrapped around their finger this much already. But when Mia giggles as Paige feeds her a part of the cookie, you decide not to care. If there was a time to spoil the kids it was on Christmas Eve.

“C’mere,” Paige nods you over, grabbing another cookie. You scurry into the kitchen, grabbing Mia from her and kissing the little girl’s forehead. She giggles brightly, clearly in a much better mood. You nuzzle your nose into her soft cheek, eliciting more laughs from the baby. The whole time Paige can’t look away even for a second, her heart fluttering with affection. Paige was completely in love with you, and seeing you like this only made her feel it more.

“What are we gonna dooo all day?” Leo interrupts the moment, yanking on Paige’s shirt. She grins and ruffles his hair affectionately. Leo and Paige had bonded quickly the first time they met, and now they’re best friends. In fact Leo facetimes Paige weekly on your aunt’s phone.

“We’ve got some ideas.” The blonde says smirking.

-

The weather is perfect, the gentle winter sun not warming but making everything brighter as the rays reflect off the snow. Snowflakes fall softly from the sky, adding to the already covered ground as you walk behind Leo and Paige, holding Mia in your arms, trying to catch your breath as you climb on top of a hill.

“Isn’t this high enough?” You ask, glancing down, worrying that Leo would be too scared to get on the sled. Predictably so, the two in front of you look over their shoulders, immediately uttering the word “no” in unison

“Auntie Paigey and your big brother have gone cray cray,” you murmur to the babbling Mia, wrapped in her warmest winter gear. 

“Okay, here’s good!” Paige says, finally putting the sled she was carrying down, looking around the group.

“You wanna go first Leo?”

Suddenly the boy looks down, hesitating. It’s pretty steep, especially at first. You could tell he felt unsure, but Paige noticed it too.

“I’m actually lowkey scared, can we ride down together?” She asks, covering for the boy. For a moment your eyes meet with hers, wanting nothing more but to kiss her right now. Paige always had you weak in the knees, but the way she skillfully handled kids only made you love her more.

“Okay we can go together I guess,” Leo complains, deep down relieved. They sit down on the sled, Paige behind the boy, ready to steer.

“Wait!” She yelps, turning to you, blinking fast. “Kiss for good luck.”

Apparently she’d been feeling the same about the kiss.

Humming, you place Mia down on the ground to play with the snow, leaning close to Paige. Her warm lips press into yours, in a loving, gentle peck that let you know she wanted to do so much more, if it wasn’t for the company.

“Yuck!” Leo whines, making both of you giggle.

“Hey, have some respect for your auntie,” Paige grins and pushes the sled forward. Suddenly they’re riding down at such speed you can barely watch. Someone was bound to get hurt.

Both of them scream as the speed accelerates, the sounds echoing in the air. To your surprise they both make it all the way down safe and sound, Paige stopping the sled and jumping off.

“That was so fast!” Leo chuckles hysterically, making your girlfriend laugh too. You could hear them laughing all the way up where you were standing. 

“Ball,” Mia babbles, pointing at a pile of snow. Giggling, you sit down on the ground next to her, beginning to roll one snowball after the other and handing them to the girl. 

“Look Mia!” You gasp to get her attention. Her wide eyes turn to you, long eyelashes fluttering as she watches. You throw a snowball into the air, Mia’s eyes following as it crashes to the ground. Immediately she claps, a wide smile on her face to reward your efforts.

“Babe it’s your turn,” Paige’s voice says as she’s climbing up, trying to catch her breath.

You scoff, continuing to play with the snow for Mia. “Not happening P,”

“Oh you’re scared huh?” The blonde teases, a smug smirk spreading across her face.

Leo gasps. “It’s not scary at all! I was scared at first too!”

You roll your eyes, not falling for their games. 

“I’m playing with my girl here, you boys leave us alone,” you say, poking your tongue out at your girlfriend. She scoffs loud, walking over to you and wrapping her arms around your waist, lifting you up and throwing you over her shoulder with ease.

Leo laughs loud, pointing at the two of you. “Paige is not a boy!”

“Let me down!” You yelp, kicking your legs and arms but it’s no use. She’s much too strong, carrying you towards the sled. Your squeals make Mia laugh loudly, a wide smile spread on her face.

“Look after your sis for a bit, aight?” Paige tells Leo, placing you down on the sled. You’re still giggling, shaking your head.

“I’m not gonna! It’s scary!” You laugh, the blonde sitting snug behind you on the sled, wrapping her legs around you.

“Don’t be such a wuss,” she teases, her arms wrapping over your waist. Leaning in, you feel her hot air tickling against your ear as she whispers. “I gotchu ma, don’t worry.”

With that, Paige pushes off the snowy ground, holding onto you tight. Quickly the speed picks up, fluttering in the pit of your stomach. The freezing cold air tingles against your skin and your eyes water from the cold as you laugh.

“Ahhh P-“ you scream, turning your gaze backwards and finding that, to your shock, the blonde behind you is pushing on the ground to make you go even faster. “STOP!”

Paige giggles into your ear, her arms wrapping around you tight to hold you close. Soon it’s over as you reach the base of the hill, the speed finally slowing down and flutters in your abdomen disappearing.

“Told you it wasn’t so scary,” the blonde grins, helping you up.

“Uh yes it was,” you laugh, grabbing a handful of snow and throwing it at the girl in front of you. Some of it gets onto her face, making Paige pause.

Her mouth turns into a tight smile and her blue eyes widen. Immediately you know you’re in trouble.

“Oh it’s like that huh?” She says and you squeal, already beginning to run when she starts to throw the powdery snow all over you.

“No no no no please!” You can barely breathe, gasping for air and trying to run, the snowy ground making your steps heavy. Paige, being a D1 athlete, easily reaches you. 

“Oh so now you regret it!” She laughs, snow falling into your coat, down your neck, making you scream louder as the girl chasing you wraps her arms around your waist, spinning you in the air. 

“Stop! Paige!”

“Say please,” she orders, her tone lighthearted.

You roll your eyes, hating having to admit defeat, but knowing it must be done.

“Fine! Please, please stop Paige please,” you whine, batting your wide eyes at the girl. She looks at you, finally putting you down and kissing your forehead.

“Wanna hear you just like that later,” she whispers the dirty words into your ear, lips brushing against your skin, tingling. Before you can scoff or tell her off, Mia’s loud cry disrupts the moment.

Both you and Paige hurry up the hill, towards Leo who’s holding his sister, bouncing him gently to soothe the little girl.

“What happened?” You ask, swiftly scooping Mia from the boy and trying her cheeks to see if she was cold. Nope, perfectly toasty from all the layers.

“Nothing! She just started crying!”

But then, studying her face, you notice the redness of her eyes, her mittened hands trying to rub them desperately.

“Aw, she’s sleepy,” Paige says, like reading your mind, grabbing the sled. 

“We should probably head back, she needs to take a nap,” you murmur, trying to soothe the girl in your arms, ear-piercing screams and cries spilling from her mouth.

All four of you hurry to the car, but no attempts to calm Mia down help. She’s exhausted, plump bottom lip quivering as she keeps crying the whole drive home. You could feel yourself getting exhausted, the loud noise becoming overwhelming and stressful. Paige could see it too, the way you were sighing and taking deep breaths. So when you return to the house, she grabs your hand and kisses it before getting up from the car.

“I’ll take her to bed okay? You rest ma,” she murmurs. Relief spreads all over your chest and you smile affectionately.

“How’d I get so lucky?” You ask.

“Nah, I’m lucky. Got the best girl in the entire world.

-

After an hour of the faint sounds of Paige’s lullabies (off-key but she would never admit that) and trying to reason with the 2-year-old like that might help, the cries eventually quiet down. Leo is resting too, playing in his room. You’ve been in the kitchen, making spaghetti for all of you. Checking the clock you realise it’s been about 30 minutes since you last heard any sound from Mia, yet Paige still hadn’t returned downstairs.

Quietly, you sneak your way up the stairs, ever so carefully opening the door into the bedroom to not wake up Mia. But what you find makes your heart flutter - in the dimmed out room, Paige and Mia are both asleep, your girlfriend holding the little girl close. The blonde’s mouth is slightly ajar, soft snores escaping through. For a moment you just watch, allowing the love you felt for them both to spread. You walk over, make sure they’re both covered up by the blanket before sneaking back out, leaving them in bed.

“Leo, come eat dinner soon, ok?” You whisper to him in the other room. His eyes lighting up, the little boy gets up holding a toy dinosaur and follows you downstairs.

“Can I watch The Grinch while I eat? Please please please!” He begs, giving you puppy eyes.

“Mmkay, just this once,” you bend to his will, setting it all up for him. You can’t help but watch Leo getting snuggled up on the couch, a blanket around him, eyes wide staring at the TV. Leaning against the arch into the living room, you feel your body tired from the day, muscles aching and mind exhausted. But your insides are fluttering with warmth, no other word for the specific feeling but pure joy. Walking back into the kitchen you begin to make your own plate of food.

You let your mind wonder, and maybe it’s risky. It’s much too soon to be thinking anything close to it. But since it’s Christmas, you let yourself. Your mind comes up with vivid images of you and Paige, in a house of your own, decorating the tree - Paige the only one tall enough to place the star on top. You can see you two baking cookies and watching Christmas movies, hot chocolate in bed. 

And maybe, just maybe eventually, two children of your own. There are flutters in your heart thinking about building snowmen with your little family, roasting marshmallows in the fireplace, dressing them up in tiny costumes and sending family postcards to your relatives and friends. It felt so far away, yet you could see it so vividly. 

As if she had heard your thoughts, suddenly warm hands land on your waist, Paige’s reflection appearing in the window in front of you. Humming, her front presses flush to your back, fitting against you just right.

“I fell asleep,” she murmurs, burying her nose into your hair and inhaling. It’s like heaven, after a long day, to feel her like this again.

“I noticed,” you reply, beginning to make a plate for the girl as well. She watches closely, following every movement from behind you until her lips find your neck, beginning to press soft, loving kisses along the nape of it. 

Eyes fluttering shut, you hum, turning your head to face the blonde behind you. Hand reaching for your jaw, she pulls you into a gentle kiss, lips sliding against yours slowly. “Can’t wait to see you be a mom,” Paige whispers against your mouth, chest heaving.

A deep blush sets on your cheeks hearing the words, taking them in. The blonde watches your reaction, clearly trying to read you.

“I’m sorry if that’s too much to say this early but I-”

“No,” you shake your head with a smile. “I can’t wait for that either.”

Relief washes over your girlfriend, as she pecks your lips once more. 

“We’re gonna be so good ma, best parents in the world.”

Beaming with joy, both you and Paige walk into the living room where Leo is sitting, eyes glued to the movie.

“Yo! Scooch!” Paige tells the boy, who shuffles to the corner of the couch. Both you and your girlfriend sit in the opposite corner, holding your bowls of spaghetti and getting settled. The blonde quickly wraps an arm around you, pulling you to lean against her side. You’re snuggled up, feeding bites of food to each other and stealing kisses whenever the boy isn't watching.

“I love you,” Paige whispers into your ear, blue eyes sparkling with adoration.

“I love you too Paige,” you whisper back, cheeks rosy and heart fluttering from the perfect snowy day.

-

taglist: @xxloveralways14 @bueckersfive @sierrale8ne @thaatdigitaldiary @lovegalor333 @lupinqs @rosemariiaa @janaelalfysblunt @d3arapril @vamptizm

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3

summary: Reader goes on a beach vacation with Joel after her father breaks his leg. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)

note: The devil works fast but I work faster. New multi chapter smut fic inspired by those damn new Pedro pics in the works…enjoy part 1! I haven't planned all of the smut scenes, so if you have any requests for specific kinks/scenes, do let me know!

He’s dead fucking wrong. You love your father, enough to not immediately say no, but he’s wrong. It’s true you could use a girls’ trip, perhaps even a couple of days out of town with your Dad, and he’s not entirely off about university being the death of you, kiddo – you’ve spent one too many nights inhaling coffee and cramming for your finals. The idea of an all-inclusive trip is tempting, given the fact that all you manage to eat these days is pasta and store-bought pesto, if that.

Nevertheless, you need to keep studying, there’s less than two weeks left until your exams, and although the trip is only a couple of days, you don’t know Joel.

Sure, you’ve been to his barbecues, and he let you use his bike one year when yours was stolen and your Dad refused to buy you a new one, because you should have locked it up in the first place. You know how he patched up your Dad after the divorce – you never worried about your mother, who was heartbroken, but able to talk about it to her family and friends. Your Dad was the one you spent sleepless nights over. The way the beer bottles accumulated in his garage, how distant he seemed on the phone. You know it was Joel who looked after him, made sure he left the house and had anything edible inside it. You’re grateful for it, you are, but you don’t really know him. For most of your life, he has been a friendly smile and wave over a fence, and you’re shy around people you know much better than the occasional hey kid, you back for the summer? or if you see your Dad, tell him I borrowed his screwdriver, I’ll put it back tomorrow.

You do feel slightly guilty your Dad can’t go on his trip. He broke his leg, and although it’s not entirely your fault he slipped, you had been the one to mop the stairs right before the accident. As much as your Dad was looking forward to his vacation, after a week he had to admit a beach holiday would be little fun with a whole leg in plaster.

You sigh, staring at your phone screen, tapping on it every once in a while to keep it from turning black. He’s expecting an answer soon, you know he is. Who the hell books non-refundable trips anyway? When you get the time, you’ll need to tell him about a lovely invention that is insurance.

You glance over at the stack of unfinished coursework on your desk, your laptop taunting you with its quiet – no responses to the millions of job applications you have sent out have come through. At this rate, you’ll be jobless in a couple of months, when you finish your degree. You’ll have to live with either of your parents forever, no money for any sort of vacation whatsoever.

"Oh, screw it,“ you mutter, unlocking your phone, and typing quickly.

I’ll do it. Only because my A+ cleaning is the reason you can’t go. Tell Joel to bring something to read, I need to study.

***

"It’d be a shame if it went to waste, kiddo, I’m glad you’re doing this.“

"Yeah,“ you answer, thinking of the endless powerpoint slides you haven’t even looked at yet. "Maybe studying at the beach works wonders.“

There’s a knock on the door, and you move to open it, your Dad chained to his chair by his broken leg. You’re not particularly excited about the smalltalk you’ll have to make with your Dad’s friend, but if you remember correctly, Joel is as much the quiet type as you are, and might actually appreciate your studying. Great, you think, at least one of us will enjoy it, then.

When you open the door, the first thing that strikes you is how hard you find it to envision Joel at the beach – he’s all mountains and trees to you, with his lumberjack boots and flannel shirt. His smile is friendly, and only gains warmth when he notices the critical look you give his outfit.

"I know,“ he says, voice deep and quiet, "I’m king of dressing for the occasion.“

You grin, and open the door wider.

"Come on in. Dad’s in the living room. What’s with the…uh…“

Your voice trails off, as you gesture towards his distinctly un-vacationy clothes.

"Thought you might bail,“ Joel answers easily, stepping into the house. "Can’t imagine you’re overly thrilled about this.“

You think about denying it, but this is your chance to come clean about how you would much prefer keeping to yourself and preparing for your finals, so you sigh.

"Well, it’s kinda my fault Dad was, like, almost paralyzed from the neck down, so I figured the least I could do was not let his trip go to waste. I’ve got finals in two weeks, so the timing is…suboptimal.“

"Yeah, your Dad said. I brought reading material, so I won’t bother you too much.“

He’s easy, you realize. Easy to talk to, and easy to accept your reluctance to bond with an almost-stranger, quick to make you feel comfortable by hinting at that boundary. You smile back, and are struck by how he holds your eye contact until you break it yourself, nodding towards your suitcase.

"Think this will fit inside the car?“

"Sure,“ he answers, "I’ve got a Bronco.“

You have no idea what that means, but you assume it’s a good thing, so you smile vaguely.

"It’s an SUV,“ Joel explains with a hint of good-natured amusement in his voice.

"Right,“ you say, attempting to overplay your obvious lack in car-knowledge, "SUV. One of the big ones.“

It makes Joel smile again, and you notice the wrinkles around his eyes that make his face look all sunny. 

"Yeah,“ he says. "One of the big ones.“

You lead him into the living room to say good-bye to your Dad, who’s expression is a weird mixture of sombre and excited at the sight of his daughter and best friend getting ready to drive to the airport.

"Take care of her, Joel,“ he says, when you’re getting ready to leave.

"Don’t worry,“ Joel answers with a pat to your father’s arm. "I’ve got her.“

"I’m twenty-three,“ you remind your father, "I’ve done more dangerous things than a trip to the beach.“

"Yeah, but you’re still my little girl,“ he answers with a smile, squeezing your hand. You squeeze back, though his comment irritates you.

"See ya, Dad. Call me if something’s wrong with your leg, alright?“

"Sure, kiddo. Have fun, you two, and bring me a seashell.“

Joel grins at the open envy on your Dad’s face.

"We’ll go on another trip next year,“ he says in an attempt to cheer him up.

"Yeah, yeah,“ your Dad answers, glancing at his watch. "Better get going, or you’ll miss the flight.“

"We’ll be fine, Joel’s got a fast car,“ you argue, "A Bronco. That’s an SUV.“

Joel snorts.

***

Joel lets you take the window seat and plops down next to you, legs slightly spread so as to fit into the little space the two of you have. His leg nudges yours, and he pulls it back immediately, though you can see how uncomfortable it must be with his knees pressing into the seat in front of him. You move your legs towards the window with a glance at Joel, who looks grateful and is able to relax his muscles into a more comfortable position without invading your space.

"Thanks,“ he mutters, "Fucking hate flying.“

So do you, though not because you’re too big to fit into the space, and not because you’re afraid – mostly because it’s boring. Sure, takeoff is exciting, but you get nauseous from watching movies and the plane is much too loud to really enjoy your music the way you would lying on your bed at home. You could study, you suppose, but you tell yourself you wouldn’t be able to concentrate and kick your backpack further under your seat. Joel notices and chuckles.

"Finals, huh? You almost done with your degree?“

You can’t imagine him finding your boring university struggles interesting, but you’re not exactly fantastic at smalltalk, so you take the conversation he’s offering you.

"I’ve got one more year, but I’ve got to do a six month internship, and write my thesis, so yeah, this is, like, the last of my regular classes and exams.“

"You enjoy it?“

The question is strikingly honest, like he really wants to know, like it’s fine if you don’t. You look at him, his eyes already on your face, and for a second you think how handsome he is. You didn’t notice before, when he was just the owner of a bike you could conveniently borrow, when life was all skinned knees and staying up till sun-down. Now, he looks like an equal, like someone who wants to know about your life, someone you want to know about yourself. The change is a little unsettling, but thrilling. You realize you haven’t answered him, so you clear your throat.

"Sure, it’s alright. Not what I would have done if money didn’t matter, but it does, so…I can be content with it.“

Joel considers this, eyes still lingering on your face, as the plane starts speeding up for takeoff.

"What would you do if money didn’t matter?“

You shrug, and smile to yourself.

"Creative writing, maybe. Or English lit.“

"You always were the smart one in your family,“ Joel answers with a chuckle.

You glance at him, and feel a pang of something warm in your stomach as he compliments you. When the plane takes off, you look out of the window, but get the feeling Joel’s eyes keep looking at you. It makes your skin prickle, though not at all unpleasantly.

***

You get to the hotel when the sun is high in the sky, burning the top of your head and making you long for a shower and an ice-cold coke. Joel courteously carries your suitcase and although you don’t want to inconvenience him, you don’t mind the way his muscles bulge under the weight, arms straining against the navy shirt he had underneath his flannel. You wonder how he’s not suffocating in the heat, wearing his thick jeans and boots.

When you get to the front desk, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, searching for his reservation details with furrowed brows. You smile when you notice he uses two hands to scroll. It takes him a couple of minutes, cursing under his breath, and you smile at the lady, who smiles back, patiently waiting for Joel to find the right email.

"Sorry,“ you say to her, and try to catch a glimpse at Joel’s phone, so as to figure out what’s taking him so long. "Need some help?“

He throws you an offended look that makes you grin, and finally shows the lady his phone. She smiles, types something into her computer and gets out two room keys.

"Go easy on your Daddy, it’s easier when you grew up with the internet,“ she says, handing you each a keycard. You feel Joel stiffen beside you, and your stomach flutters.

"Here’s your keycards, you’re on the third floor. Enjoy your stay!“

"Thanks,“ Joel mumbles, taking the cards and handing them to you, before grabbing the two suitcases. He huffs, when you walk around a corner and towards the elevators.

"She was makin’ fun of me,“ he says accusingly when the lady is out of earshot, as if that would be your fault. You snort, all of a sudden feeling giddy at the prospect of being at the beach soon, your holiday only a couple of minutes away.

"I don’t think so, she was trying to help you by blaming your incompetence on your age,“ you say, Joel looking at you like he can’t believe what you said.

"Sorry.“ Your voice is quivering with amusement at how offended he is. "Daddy.“

That makes him clear his throat, and if your eyes aren’t playing a trick on you, his cheeks turn a shade darker. Bingo.

"Don’t say shit like that,“ Joel grumbles, "’M not that old.“

"How old are you, then?“

"Why?“, he asks, eyes meeting yours, and suddenly you’re the one blushing, your stomach swirling with something you definitely should not be feeling for your Dad’s best friend. Joel shakes his head. "Don’t start something neither of us can finish, kid.“

It’s just an offhand-comment about the way you jokingly flirted, but you feel all bashful all of a sudden. His mention of there being something to potentially start, the fact that the possibility even crossed his mind…when you look up at him again and watch him press a button on the elevator, you study the grey patches in his beard, the way his jaw clenches and unclenches as you’re waiting, his thick fingers drumming against the handle of his suitcase. It’s not what you expected to happen, but Joel’s got you intrigued.

***

You both agree to take a shower, get settled in and meet outside the rooms in half an hour – they’re neighboring, so it’s not far. You’re too lazy to properly unpack, so you just grab a bikini and a comfortable white sundress to change into after your shower. The water is welcome on your skin, washing away the grit and sweat of the hours spent on the plane, and you feel like a new person when you step out of the bathroom. You put on sandals and a pair of sunglasses, grab sunscreen, your books and notes for class, and a bottle of water, and throw it all into your beach bag, then head for the door. Joel is already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite your door wearing a different shirt, red swimming trunks and dark sunglasses. He’s got a towel thrown over his shoulder and you grin.

"Raw-dogging the beach?“, you ask, which makes him furrow his brows.

"The hell does that mean?“

You snort at his obvious annoyance at your innuendo.

"It means you’re only bringing a towel, nothing to entertain yourself with,“ you explain, gesturing towards your bag. Joel shakes his head, still frowning.

"I’m going to the beach, not the library,“ he answers, and starts walking towards the elevators, his flip-flops making their soft sound on the floor. Your gaze flickers down towards his legs, his swimming trunks revealing tan thighs.

"Comin’?“

You swallow, and catch up with him.

***

He’s fucking gorgeous. It’s a problem, how gorgeous he is, tan torso, swimming trunks low on his hips, bits of dark hair scattered across his chest and soft belly. His shoulders are wide, like they were made for swimming, his hair glistening as he shakes like a wet dog when he comes up for air. You have been staring at the same page for far too long now, but there’s no way Joel is able to notice your staring, not when you’re wearing your sunglasses and he’s busy swimming.

You know it’s a bad idea, that there’s no good that can come from crushing on a man twice your age, more than that, even. You know he must surely see the girl who came over to borrow his bike with tears of anger in her eyes every time he looks at you, and you know how much he respects your father.

Still, you are allowed to have fun. You’re doing this for your Dad more than anything, and you’ve been bending over backwards trying to make him proud with your good grades, so if there’s something you’re able to get out of this trip, you figure you’re at least allowed to look. And anyway, it’s not hurting anyone. It’s just natural, the half-naked bodies and blissful relaxation would affect anyone who has spent the last four months cramped up in a little dorm room.

You watch Joel swim towards the beach again, rising out of the water like some sort of Poseidon sent to personally make this trip unbearable for you. You think of his reaction when you teasingly called him Daddy, and swallow.

"Fuck,“ you mumble to yourself, when he tugs on his swimming trunks so that they don’t slide over his hips, dripping water onto the dry sand all around him. He smiles at you as he makes his way over to your spot – two deckchairs shielded by a parasol.

"Wow,“ Joel says sarcastically, when he looks at your book, still on page two. "Real page turner, huh?“

You blush, and open your mouth to defend yourself, but Joel’s expression softens, all biting humor gone, as he grabs his towel.

"You’re allowed to take a break from studying, you know?“

You watch him dry himself off, big hands rubbing the towel over his chest and stomach, leaving his legs to dry on their own, as he lays down on his deckchair.

"Easy to say, you’re not the one who has to face my Dad if you fail all your exams.“

Joel turns his head towards you, and you’re struck by how gentle his expression is.

"I know he can be a hard ass, but I guarantee you you’re not goin’ to fail all your exams, kid.“

You sigh and shrug.

"He give you a hard time ’cause of your grades?“

"No,“ you answer quickly, all of a sudden feeling defensive of your father. "I just wanna…make him proud.“

Joel smiles.

"I know for a fact you’re doin’ that without even tryin’. And anyway, it’s good to take breaks. Let’s your brain cool off and absorb information much better afterwards.“

Can’t argue with that logic, you think and close your book with a thud. Joel grabs it from you and throws it into your beach bag.

"I grant you two hours of studying each day,“ he says, and you have to laugh. "The rest is for having fun, gettin’ tan and drinkin’ cocktails."

It’s preposterous, that he would order you around like that after you told him you need to study, back before you even made it to the airport. But something is different here, away from your desk, and your Dad’s broken leg (and the rest of him, for that matter). Joel and you have fallen into an easy dynamic, and although it’s unusual, your reservations are gone. You’re actually looking forward to spending time with him, and not just because of the way his belly nudges against the waistband of his swimming trunks, or how his accent seems to thicken in the sun.

"Fine,“ you say, "but you’re paying for my tuition if I do end up failing, Miller.“

He grins at you.

[essiemclaren]

watch me win

in which lando was paid to fake date y/n!

pairing: mean!lando x reader

tw: super mean/rude lando and ofc angst

day 2

lando's text with the bros

lando's text with the reader

Life is unpredictable, but for Lando Norris, there was always a backup plan. He didn’t need to waste time stressing over what could go wrong; his mind was always three steps ahead. Quick moves, sharp thinking—that’s how he kept control. So, when he asked her out for Saturday, it wasn’t because he liked her. Far from it. He didn’t even find her interesting enough to care. She wasn’t some elusive beauty that had him tongue-tied. No, Lando asked her out because he was helping a buddy out, someone too spineless to handle their own situation. She was a tool, a temporary convenience to get what he needed.

Right after their day 1 of meeting, Lando... Oh, Lando instantly knew the way she clung to every word he said, the desperate way she hung on to each fleeting moment of attention—Lando could practically see it. She was that type, the one who’d find validation in any scrap of it, always eager to be the center of someone’s universe. It wasn’t even a challenge; she was a walking cliché, all wide eyes and innocent smiles, pretending she was so much more than the attention-seeker she really was. And Lando? He was just playing along, a momentary distraction, a little fun to help out his friend.

Nothing personal.

She wasn’t anything special—just someone who’d fall for the smallest gestures, starved for a taste of something that made her feel wanted. Lando didn’t mind giving her that. He knew she'd eat it up, desperate for it, clinging to the idea that this meaningless gesture somehow meant something more.

And for day 2? Since he asked her out for Saturday, he’d get a brand new motorbike—a sleek, custom bike, the kind that screamed luxury and power. Because why not take advantage of the situation, turning a simple play into something even more valuable than her fleeting attention?

Saturday

lando's text with the reader

lando's text with the bros

lando's post on x/twitter

After the whole thing was over, Lando leaned back, a smirk tugging at his lips as he replayed the night in his head. Did he regret it? Not for a second. She missed her precious dinner party, but that wasn’t his problem. He couldn’t care less. Her disappointment was just a footnote in his evening, barely worth a second thought. What mattered was the new ride waiting for him—shiny, powerful, and all his. He’d played the game, entertained her for a bit, and now he had what he wanted.

He didn’t regret a thing. Not for a second.

--

a/n: Hey everyone! I’m sorry this chapter is shorter than usual – I’ve been super busy, but I hope you understand! I really enjoyed writing this part and I hope you did too. I hope you’re all having a wonderful holiday break! Please let me know what you think about this chapter – your feedback means a lot. Again, happy holidays, take care, and I’ll be back soon! xx

-essie the elf 🎄

taglist: @5sospenguinqueen @bluethperson @mayusaatma @mountvesuvu @styl1shl1v @hotgirlslikemax @creamsteam3 @kravitswhore @issi-loves-dynamic @llando4norris @sunlithearts @osclerc @hurtblossom @miiaex @somerandomf1fan @nataliambc @saachiep81 @ironmaiden1313 @s-awturn @c4tc0re @dannyleclerc @lexiecampos @loloekie @idontknowanythingsblog @grovelingmen @cchewhaz @linneaguriii

[poguelandiarafe]

broken promises 3 | rafe cameron

pairing - rafe cameron x female reader

warnings - angst, mature language, mentions of infidelity

summary - rafe finds you on the beach and begs for forgiveness but your pain is too raw to think about forgiving him. he's promising to do better for you and the baby but you reject his apologies, leaving him alone in the sand.

(sorry the last two chapters are so short, i'm trying to figure out which direction to take the series in. please please please (hey sabrina) message me or comment your thoughts and ideas!)

not a one-shot, read part one and part two here <3

masterlist

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“leave me alone, rafe. i don’t want to talk to you.”

you're impressed with yourself, nearly expecting your arms to automatically open wide and accept him back just like that. but they don't, they stay firmly wrapped around yourself and as much as it pains you to realise, you don't want them around him anymore.

rafe runs a hand over his head, a frustrated sigh falling past his lips. he's been driving for hours and you won't even give him the time of day. taking cautious steps, he slowly approaches you until he's standing in front of you.

when you don't react, he kneels down in front of you and places a hesitant hand on your hip. his fingers barely graze your skin before you're quick to grab his hand and throw it off you. the feeling of his skin on yours is too much for you to handle. though your heart and body yearns to be wrapped up in his arms again, your mind is just about strong enough to not allow it to happen.

"let me explain, baby, please." he begs, his voice cracking.

"i said leave me alone," you sigh, yet you can feel your anger bubbling just beneath the surface, "there's nothing to explain."

you already know what he'll say - pathetic excuses and apologies about how much he messed up and that he regrets it. words you can't let yourself be fooled by.

rafe's shoulders sag as the words reach his ears. his hand slowly raises to grab your hip before he drops it back to his side in defeat. he's never felt so helpless before and he hates it. having you so close yet completely out of reach makes his heart ache in a way he never thought possible.

"you don't mean that, we can't end it like this," he whispers, voice thick with emotion as he looks up at you through wet lashes, "there must be something i can do. i'll do anything. i'll wait for you, i'll give you space. i'll do it for you and for our baby. i promise, y/n."

you refuse to look at him, instead keeping your eyes fixed on the ocean, willing yourself not to cry. his stare is burning into your skin and the faintest trace of forgiveness he's looking for from you is nowhere to be seen.

rafe stays kneeling in front of you, never taking his eyes off your face, searching for a crack in your amour. he's trying to maintain his composure, but his breathing is laboured and he's desperately blinking away the tears that blur his vision.

"no. i mean it, rafe. i need you to leave me alone." you say firmly, the words sharp, "i don't want you to wait. i won't stop you from being involved with the baby, but i don't want you to wait for me because i can't be with you anymore. i can't forgive you."

every part of you screams to walk away and never look back, to let him face the consequences of his actions alone. however, your feet remain rooted to the spot, as if a part of you is silently willing rafe to beg harder to fix this, even though you know it wouldn't change anything.

"you don't mean that," he says softly, "you still love me, i know you do. please, just tell me what to do to fix this."

"you shouldn't have to ask me how to fix this. and i do still love you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, "but i don't trust you, rafe. you've made your bed. now, lie in it."

for a split second, you think he's going to argue. his lips part to say something but the words never make it past them. so, before you can change your mind, you turn on your heel and quickly walk over to your car, each step feeling heavier than the last. you don't look back, even when you hear him choke out a broken plea. behind you, rafe stays kneeling in the sand, watching as you walk further and further out of his life.

once you reach the car, you let out a trembling breath and attempt to compose yourself. sliding into the driver's seat, the jagged edges of your keys dig into your palm and you squeeze them tighter, as if turning your emotional pain into physical pain will somehow help. for a moment, you just sit and stare, the weight of the day's events crashing down on you.

a few minutes pass before you start the car, and the last thing you see before driving off is rafe sitting in the sand with his head in his hands and knees pulled up to his chest. the thought of going back crosses your mind and you force yourself to look away, to focus on the road instead. you don't know where you're going, only that you can't go home.

taglist: @hellothere7 @faephoria @xcinnamonmalfoyx @samwinchesterisawhore @alyisdead @maybankslover @vdotcom @kundaquarius @lil-sparklqueen @flvredcas @esquivelbianca @pillowprincess4him @mariadu2 @suyqa @sexy123s-s @inmyowndefender @dreamygirli3 @aesthetic-lyss @gorgeouscgirl

[sheepispink]

Milkin’ and Cookin’ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི part 3 of Sweet as Sugar (bakery!au, simon x reader)

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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Summary: Ghost— or well, Simon— notices how much you seem to dread your upcoming trip to the local farm. You seem to hate the idea of driving alone, especially with that rickety car of yours.He never thought he’d say it himself, but, one day off work wouldnt hurt, right?

A/N: (British)english glossary: Boot means the trunk of a car for all you americans. This chapter is actually so British it’s funny

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You always dreaded these trips; it took far too long to get to that farm, and even though you loved to see the sheep there, it was a painfully long drive with all the harsh bumps and the like. Your car wasn't made for that, though you wouldn't dare complain much, knowing that your parents wouldn’t be able to afford those expensive cars made for the bumpiest land of Wales. Even so, it was your turn to pick up the fresh produce that made your bakery so popular in the first place.

“It’s just.. really far, and it always seems to rain whenever I go.” You complain to Simon as he nurses a cup of tea in the empty shop, not quite off duty for another two weeks, but he somehow finds time, to come by anyway. It’s empty since it’s near closing time but you didn't need to kick him out when all he was doing was keeping you company as you wiped up a coffee stain from the table.

“How far is it?” He asks, his gruff voice a sheer contrast to your lighter one, almost like smog covering the air.

“It's a two hour drive, but it’s worth it; they have some of the best eggs and quality milk around.” You hum, not thinking twice before you grab a tissue and hand it to him, letting him wipe the small crumbs from his typical order. Despite how he refused to take it off in front of his fellow soldiers, who knew him for way longer than you have, he always pushed his mask up to his nose around you, even if it looked a little silly sometimes and he almost caught you giggling. His lips were scarred, not that you looked at it that often, in a way that looked dehydrated, but you had a feeling it was for a different reason. You could see another scar peeking near his cheek, but it never really showed properly, and you promised yourself you’d try not to stare when he did reveal his face every now and then.

His body was a different story, though; you were shivering and he’d still roll his sleeves up, a few tattoos sneaking past his elbow but not quite yet. He confessed he planned to get a whole sleeve, but a mission came up suddenly, and healing tattoos never went well with that. “When’re you heading down anyway?” He says, dabbing at the crumbs on his lips before finally pulling down his mask once more. “Thursday. We’ll have to close the shop on Friday so we can restock.” He nods thoughtfully before eventually standing, and you grab the cup before he can even place it on the counter, heart freezing for a moment when your fingers brush. “I’ll take that. Back to duty?” He nods in return, slipping his leather gloves back on again and picking up his jacket from the chair. “Training, debriefs, the usual.” He leaves a tip at the table, something you’ve insisted he doesn't have to do, but he says it’s for his ‘overtime’ at your cafe. Besides, the last time you ran after him to give him the money back, he had already disappeared down the street, unable to be found again.

It’s Thursday morning, and you’ve dragged yourself out of bed at five am to allow enough time to get ready and start packing your car with crates, making sure you’ve counted it many times for the right amount for all the usual produce. As you told Simon before, you weren't exactly anticipating this ride, but it was what had to be done, even if you’re half awake. Well, at least the roads are empty. Closing the boot door, your hands clasp over your mouth, essentially muffling your own scream when you realise the masked figure that was ominously standing there was actually the Lieutenant himself as he steps into the porch light. “..Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya” His voice is visibly awkward for once, eyes glancing elsewhere, and you laugh nervously, still recovering from a pounding heart. “It’s.. fine. Almost thought I'd get robbed, just um.. say hi next time?” You watch him nod quickly in return, his hands shoving into the pockets of his jeans. Oddly casual.

“So why’re you here anyway?” You question, grabbing a few of the groceries and spices the farmer had asked you to bring down for him. After all, he didn't come down to town very often. “You need a lift to your base or somethin’ ?” That makes him chuckle, a cooler bag of seafood in his arms, farmer’s favourite apparently.

“I came to help you.” That causes your eyes to widen in surprise, watching as he easily places it in the back seat before nicking the keys from your pocket. He leaves you standing in confusion whilst he climbs into the driver's seat,the rickety truck starting up with a heavy growl. “This rusty thing is a Land Rover? Hard to believe tha’ “ He mutters gruffly, ignoring the look of offense on your face as you climb up into the passenger seat. “I can drive you know, if you’re gonna keep complaining!” You exclaim, nose wrinkling up as you turn to frown at him. He stifles a chuckle, eyes rolling beneath the mask as he reaches over your body, clicking your seatbelt in for you.

“Don’t bite my arm off now; I'm going, I'm going.”

The drive goes by smoothly, even with only one of his hands on the steering wheel. Only now have you actually looked over him since he terrified you. He’s got a thick jumper on and a zip up hoodie on top of the jeans you noticed earlier. “Starin’ at my bad fashion sense?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and you snicker, relaxing in the seat as you shift your focus more directly over to him. You’re practically curled up on the seat, legs folded on the seat. “No, no, I'm no better either.” He glances over your own worn trousers, covered in straw and muck from your last visit. It was safe to say you both had the right idea, as any nice clothes would’ve likely been ruined by the time you left, if not as soon as you got there. Even so, he can't help but find the sight oddly domestic, a small grin forming beneath the mask at your hair pulled back and the fingerless gloves on your hands. Cute.

It’s ten o’ clock when you arrive due to a large pothole causing you to take another, rockier route. Directing him, he pulls into the small driveway and parks the truck as the farmer exits, a haybale over his shoulder. He looks no older than about fifty three, a wide grin on his face as you step out of the car. “Lass!” He exclaims, the Scottish man patting you so hard on the back you almost cough, and you make a dramatic sigh in return even if you’re unable to hide the grin creeping up.. “Good to see you too, Mr.Wheatley. I’ll put the things in the usual places?” He nods, leaning on a wooden pillar, the paint peeling off already. You head to the backseats, grabbing the crates for him when you suddenly hear a low whistle and what sounds like a large thwack. You turn on your heel, instantly feeling the embarrassment that will soon come as the farmer gives you a smirk, looking between you and Simon, who can only stand there awkwardly as he places down another bag. “Now who is this lad?” He asks, and you carry over the cooler bag, trying to seem unaffected but flushing nonetheless.

Simon can't help but find it adorable how you stand in front of him, almost like trying to shield him from the farmer’s mischief—it’s the same protectiveness you’d expect when someone’s partner is insulted. Except Simon is far larger than you in both height and muscle, and so he doubts anyone would be bold enough to insult him anyway. “He’s a friend of mine who came to help me out.”

”Just a friend?” The farmer raises his brow, tilting his body to peer round you at the masked man still setting up all the things the pair of you brought.

”Take the damn seafood!” You grumble, plopping the heavy cooler bag in his arms as he chuckles, entering the house to leave you alone.

“Mr Wheatley basically runs this farm on his own, ever since his brother passed last year. His wife lives here too, but she doesn't attend to much other than feeding the chickens—she’s actually a writer.” You explain, carrying around one of the crates as you lead Simon to the chicken coop. The air is much fresher here, even if it smells mostly like hay and animal poo, but the point still stands. Ghost nods along to your words, watching as you check the eggs before picking them up before following your same action. “Is that why you collect what you need yourself?” You nod in return, crouching down to pick up a chicken and carefully move it so you could grab another egg.

“That, and for quality checking.” Lifting up the egg to him, you show him the crack running up along the side, about to explain other things you check for when you yelp, falling forward on the dirt and causing the yolk to splash on the icy ground. “Ow!” The culprit stands behind you, clucking as it watches your movements and follows. He has to forcefully stifle his chuckles when you squeal again, desperately shooing the chicken who seems intent on pecking at your butt. “It’s trying to eat me!”

“I don't know; I think he likes you.” You’re met face to face with said chicken when the Lieutenant grabs it, keeping it just a short distance from your face as he teases you. “Simon!” You yelp again, and quickly you scramble back up and out of the chicken coop, the chicken still clucking away in his large hands.

For the next three hours, he follows you around like a lost puppy, which you find rather amusing yourself. He’s never been in a situation this unfamiliar before, and whilst he’d usually take initiative, he’s a bit afraid of accidentally getting you the wrong items. Instead he chose to hold the crates for you, using his strength to support you even when he couldn’t fathom how you milked a cow so easily. “So you have like a 1% chance of killin’ me when I drink yer tea?” He raises an eyebrow as you explain the dangers of unpasteurised milk, knowledge you picked up when you started working more shifts at the bakery. At his question you have to practically stave off the facepalm, shaking your head at his words as you now measure out the amount of milk your bakery will need until the next visit. “We only use fresh milk for our baked goods; this way the oven burns off any excess pathogens.” He probably should’ve guessed that, but it was worth the face you hadn't even known you pulled. “But, if you’re looking for a new way to kill your enemies on the field, I guess unpasteurised milk holds a good chance.”

“I am not throwing milk bombs at anyone.”

That makes you snicker, his grumpy self returning as you poke fun at his job again–only an hour ago you had giggled at the horse poo and asked if that was his duty. Even you know he can't hold it for long, especially when you poke him in the side with that cheeky grin. “I think you’re just scared your cap’ will hire me on the spot.”

You’re walking back to the car, the final crate full and ready to pack when it starts drizzling down, water pattering on the floor around. “Huh.. but I checked the weather forecast this morning..?” Only now had you glanced up at the darkening clouds, a soft frown sporting your face. “You really shouldn't be surprised with British weather.” He says gruffly, placing the final crate into your boot whilst watching the drops fall from the sky onto the concrete below. “Not the worst, but a storm might be brewing up.”

“Get over ‘ere you two, or do ye wanna get soak’d?”

Instinctively, you grab his hand and pull him into the warmth of the farmer’s house. Although the rain is falling so heavily now that it’d be likely impossible to drive home—for the next hour or so at least.

“Sorry..” You sigh, sitting on one side of the table, your hands warmed by the mug of tea you both prepared. He clutched his own, though his gloves protected him from the majority of the cold. Still, you can't help but feel like you inconvenienced him somehow, even if he had insisted on coming himself. “Are you sure this is okay, y'know, for your job?” He just gruffly nods, brown eyes moving to watch how aggressively the water patters against the glass. “I’ll drive us back in the evening. Don't fall asleep on me.” You grin cheekily, crossing your legs as you stand, placing your now empty teacup in the sink. “No promises.”

The banter is cut off when your stomach growls, your hands instinctively clutching it, a sheepish grin forming on your lips. “Didn't eat much for breakfast. Fancy a jacket potato for lunch?” He nods and stands to join you as you reach into the cupboard, pulling out two large potatoes. He takes them from your hands, washing them in the sink whilst you start grating some of the cheese.

“So how’d you know the farmer? I mean, you act close enough to be his niece.” Ghost comments, cutting a cross into the potato, and he can’t help but feel oddly warm at the way you easily fell into a routine.

“When I was about seventeen, I did some work experience here, ‘cause of university applications and stuff. His daughter grew very sick, and with the nearest medical services three hours away, I volunteered to nurse her back to health instead.” His eyes soften as he watches you, the way your eyebrows tug together as you concentrate. “Did you end up going to uni?” You shake your head this time, sliding over the plate of cheese before crouching in front of a cupboard in search of baked beans.

“I knew my parents couldn't afford it, so I didn't bother. The only reason we got the bakery was because the lady who previously owned it had left it in such a pitiful state it was rather cheap.” He pulls. out the steaming potatoes from the microwave, pressing into the potato to open it before fluffing it up with a fork. “Before that it was either working here on the farm or part time at the coffee shop down the road.” He hadn't realised someone as sweet as you could have that hand dealt to them; of course, it could be worse, but still it was different from the stories he usually heard. You grab a knife and spread butter across both of the potatoes, catching him off guard before you load up the baked beans and cheese. “Is that much butter really needed?”

Practically seconds later, he has his mask pulled up to his nose, scarred lips wolfing down the fluffy potato as he grunts. “I could eat this every day, flippin hell.” You laugh, taking a bite out of your own, the warm gooeyness of the cheese and baked beans warming your insides. Probably not the best dish, but definitely not a bad one. Though for him, who's used to eating dehydrated MREs with only the taste of cardboard—it’s practically luxury. “How bad is the military food?” You raise a brow, scooping another spoonful of the beans on his plate when he finishes his share. “Not bad,” The words are muffled by his full mouth, a sharp swallow quickly clearing his throat as he wipes his chin with a napkin. “On base, it’s fine; definitely not a lot of flavour, but it does the job. That’s why your bakery is such a trea’ love. Haven’t had food that tasted that good since Soap hosted a Christmas party.”

“Soap?”

”Member o’ my team.” He nods gruffly, stealing a baked bean off your plate and popping it in his mouth. His arms lean on the table, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the great muscle practically spilling over.He doesn't usually mention things about his work or his friends, so you decide not to pry for now.

Once you finish your plate, he takes the dishes to the sink and begins to wash them, whilst you grab a fresh towel to start drying them off. You tilt your head as you rub the plates with the towel, your mind wandering elsewhere. He’d been so nice to you recently, and all you’d done is give him a free tea a couple of times; you couldn't help but feel as if you should give him something in return. Couldn't you pack a lunch for him? It’d be in a nice container, a healthy sandwich loaded with meat and salad, a smaller version of his typical sausage roll on the side too. For dessert you could give him a muffin, or a little tart and then you couldn't possibly forget a flash of hot tea too. How would his coworkers react? You can almost imagine their faces when he opens it, randomly appearing with a pretty little box. A hand lands on your head, snapping you out of your stifled snickers, as it protects you from a cupboard opening just above you. “What’re you thinkin’ about now?” His voice is laced with suspicion, watching how you look far too amused despite the lack of jokes he’s made. That can only mean you’re up to something. “Nothin’, just thinking about what you’d like for lunch.” He raises a brow at that, but you quickly grab your keys from the table and pull your boots on. “C’mon, i want to get head back before it gets too cold.”

The ride back is quiet, almost silent if not for the soft hum of the radio. You decided to connect your phone to it, not really wanting club hits playing and rather something slower. It’s not awkward, though; more of a comfortable blanket over the pair of you as he drives through the narrow roads. Determined to talk for a bit, you showed him a few of your favourite songs and then some childhood favourites too. He nodded along, even gave you a few he often heard around. Tiredly, your head starts to droop closer and closer against the window, and you almost jump when Ghost lets his hand rest on your knee. “Sleep if you want. You’ve been up since early.”

“You’re always up early, though—how are you never tired?”

He can only shrug, knowing he probably shouldn’t delve into the aftereffects of his missions, even more so down the PTSD route. “Got used to it, I guess. Don't worry about me, okay?” Thankfully, you’re too sleepy to question down that route, asking him whatever tired question meets your mind until you’re quietly snoozing in the chair. It was probably his fault for cranking up the heating in the first place, making you all cosy like that, enough for you to completely fall asleep. He turns the music a little bit higher and finally relaxes his shoulders. He should really hang around you more; he hasn't felt this good in years.

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A/N: please comment ideas for the name of the penguin plush from ch2, he will make a return!!! I was thinking pingu but i wanna involve u guys too.

Taglist:

@bieberismysoulmate @hidden-treasures21

[seongwars]

strangers by nature | v

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Rating: NC-17 Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 6.4K Warnings: a little angst, mentions of stalking, one swear word, only 50% proofread because of the holidays, panic attack

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a/n: I struggled to write this chapter, but things will definitely be picking up soon! as always feedback is appreciated! i love reading everyone's thoughts!

The faint jingling of the bell announced your arrival as you stepped into the cozy coffee shop. Mingi trotted in behind you, his tiny paws clicking against the tiled floor. Heads turned almost immediately, and the quiet murmur of conversation gave way to coos and giggles.

“Look at that dog!”

“He’s so cute!”

Mingi puffed up his chest, his little tail wagging in satisfaction as he soaked in the admiration. His tail wagged in satisfaction, a clear sign that he was enjoying the attention. Someone nearby pulled out their phone, angling for a picture, while another patron whispered to their friend about how much he resembled a fluffy toy.

Despite his tiny form, he still had his ego intact. He strutted a few steps ahead of you, taking in the praise from others. 

“I’ll get us something quick,” you muttered to him, scratching behind his ears. He gave a soft huff, clearly not impressed with the idea of waiting, especially when a cup of whip cream was to be had. 

You straightened and made your way to the counter, your eyes scanning the menu overhead. Behind you, Mingi entertained his growing fan club, a gaggle of customers marveling at his antics as you stepped aside to wait for your order. 

“Y/N?”

Turning, you were greeted by the sight of Park Seonghwa standing near the condiment bar, a takeaway cup in one hand and the other tucked into his pocket. It was rare to see the heir to Park Enterprises out and about like this, given his reputation for being both elusive and endlessly busy. That fact that he was here at all felt oddly serendipitous.

“Hey, Seonghwa.”

His smile widened slightly, and he took a step closer. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Yeah, I’m on the way to the hospital to stay with Mingi. Just stopping by to grab coffee before heading over.”

As if on cue, Maro let out a sharp bark, turning Seonghwa’s attention downward. His brows lifted in surprise and delight as he took in the tiny, proud pup sitting at your feet.

“Mingi let you have a dog?”

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated. “Well... not exactly,” you admitted, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. 

“It’s...complicated.”

“Complicated, huh?”

Still, the thought lingered in your mind: would you have to give up your puppy once Mingi woke up? Maro had simply happened, and now you couldn’t imagine not having him around.

“I found him,” you blurted. “Or, I guess, he found me.”

Seonghwa’s gaze lingered on Maro, his expression softening slightly before he returned his attention to you. 

“Knowing Mingi,” he said carefully, “I can’t imagine he’d be thrilled about this.”

You laughed, though it came out a little strained. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t exactly have a say right now.”

The humor in the moment dissipated almost immediately. Seonghwa’s teasing expression softened, giving way to something more serious. 

“How is he?” he asked quietly.

“The same,” you admitted. “No changes yet.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice so low it barely reached you over the hum of the coffee shop. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”

You nodded, lips pressing into a tight line as you fought the sudden swell of emotion in your chest. 

“If you need company at the hospital,” he offered, “just let me know.”

Now hold on! Mingi growled, his tiny body stiffening. His big brown eyes locked onto Seonghwa, narrowing as much as his puppy face would allow. Park Seonghwa, for all his charm was still Park Seonghwa, a man with a reputation whose commitment issues rivaled Mingi’s own. 

You glanced up at him, managing to raise an eyebrow as you struggled to muster a semblance of a smile. His offer, so simple yet so unexpectedly kind, caught you off guard.

“Is it because your family owns Hala Medical?”

“Maybe,” he replied, his tone playful as though he could sense you needed the levity.

Mingi didn’t care how successful Seonghwa’s family was in healthcare, or how much he was trying to play the concerned friend right now. He wasn’t going to let him swoop in with his perfect hair, stupid face, and infuriatingly genuine smile to worm his way into your life while he was stuck in a coma, unable to defend himself.

And you’re a married woman! If Seonghwa thought he could charm his way past that little detail, Mingi was more than ready to remind him otherwise. The puppy let out another indignant bark. You shot him a quick look, tilting your head in confusion. 

“What’s with you?” you muttered softly, rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him.

Mingi growled louder this time, his tiny body practically vibrating with the effort. Did Seonghwa think he was fooling anyone? Mingi was onto him, and he wasn’t going to let the infamous Park Seonghwa forget that you were spoken for.

“Don’t mind him,” you said with a sheepish laugh, shifting Mingi in your arms. “He gets like this sometimes. It’s all that puppy energy.”

Seonghwa raised a brow, his lips twitching with amusement as he leaned slightly closer. “Protective, huh?” he remarked, his tone light. 

“Guess he has good instincts.”

Of course I do! Mingi thought, puffing out his little chest. If he’d had hands instead of paws, he’d have already swung on Seonghwa for good measure. A man like Seonghwa didn’t just casually offer to visit hospitals out of the goodness of his heart. No, he had an angle, and Mingi was determined to sniff it out.

Still, you were oblivious to the growing tension between the two males. “I should grab my order,” you said, glancing toward the counter and adjusting your grip on Mingi. 

“I need to get there before visiting hours are over.”

Seonghwa nodded, stepping aside with a gracious smile. “Of course. Don’t let me keep you.”

Mingi let out another low growl, shooting one last withering glare at Seonghwa as you turned your attention back to the counter. As far as the pomeranian was concerned, this wasn’t over. 

⋆

Yeosang’s car rolled to a stop in front of the hospital. As soon as the door opened, Mingi’s tiny legs worked furiously as he darted toward Yeosang, his fluffy tail wagging so hard it looked like he might fly away.

“Hey buddy,” Yeosang chuckled, scratching behind Mingi’s ears before scooping him up. “You ready for another sleepover?”

Hetmon barked from the backseat, his paws resting on the window. Let’s go already!

“Thanks so much for meeting me here! Sorry today’s drop off is a little out of the ordinary,” you said, handing Yeosang a bag of baked goods from the coffee shop.

“No worries. It actually works out great! Having the park between my apartment and the hospital is pretty convenient. I told Hetmon we’d stop by and let him and Maro run around before heading home.”

“You’re a lifesaver, I can’t thank you enough. Hetmon is more than welcome to stay with us whenever he’d like.”

“Careful, he might take you up on that offer and never want to come home.”

Laughing, you bent down to give Mingi a kiss between his fluffy ears. “Be good for Uncle Yeosang, okay?” Mingi gave an enthusiastic bark in response, his tail wagging so furiously it made his whole body wiggle.

“Thanks again. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With a final wave, you turned and headed toward the hospital, glancing back once to see Maro already pawing at Yeosang’s leg, eager to get going.

Once they reached the dog park, Mingi wasted no time. The moment Yeosang unclipped his leash, the little pomeranian shot off like a rocket. He barked gleefully, weaving through the open field with such speed that even larger dogs stopped to watch in astonishment.

Hetmon trotted after him at a more measured pace, as if he knew Mingi would wear himself out eventually. Finally, the puppy skidded to a stop under the shade of a tree, panting dramatically as the doberman joined him, settling down onto the grass with a huff. But before Hetmon could catch his breath, Mingi launched into a tirade.

“So, get this,” Mingi began, his tiny voice surprisingly serious despite the constant wagging of his tail. He paced in front of Hetmon, his little legs moving with purpose. 

“There’s this guy. His name is Seonghwa, and he was hitting on Y/N at the coffee shop.”

Hetmon tilted his head, his ears perking up. “Seonghwa? Who’s that?”

“He’s not important,” Mingi snapped, spinning around dramatically. “What’s important is that he thinks he can just charm his way into Y/N’s heart.”

“Well, if he’s not important, why are we talking about him?”

“Because!” Mingi barked, “He’s literally perfect and I don’t want Y/N to replace me! She’s my wife and I… I…”

His voice faltered, the words catching in his throat as if saying them aloud might make them too real. His paws stilled mid-step, and he froze, staring down at the ground.

Love her.

Was this love really his? Or was it just some puppy instinct to adore the person who cared for him?

He thought of the way you’d let him curl up in bed with you, ignoring how much space his small, fluffy frame somehow managed to take up. You always tucked the blankets around him, murmuring something soft and sweet. He felt safe there, pressed close to you, as though nothing could hurt him as long as he was with you.

He thought about how you scratched behind his ears, those tender moments when he’d rest his head on your lap. You’d tell him, you love him and each time, he could feel it in your voice, in your touch. It wasn’t just words. 

You meant it.

You didn’t just care for him. You saw him. You saw past all his flaws–his arrogance, his pride, and you still stayed. Even as he was in a coma, you chose him. 

And if that wasn’t love, what was?

“I don’t want to lose her,” Mingi admitted, his voice trembling. 

He sank onto his haunches, his tail lying limp against the ground. Yet, the act of speaking them aloud released something within him. It was like stepping into the sun after years of darkness. 

It wasn’t just the loyalty of a pet. It wasn’t just some fleeting puppy affection. It was real. He loved you. 

But love, he realized bitterly, came with its own demons. It came with fear, sharp and gnawing. The fear that you’d leave him. The fear that one day, you’d look at him and realize you deserved better.

Mingi's chest tightened, his breaths coming out in short, shallow huffs. What if you already realized it? What if the only thing keeping you by his side was pity? That thought was unbearable. 

His tail gave a tentative wag, hesitant at first but growing stronger as he allowed himself to lean into the feeling. It wasn’t just relief. It was hope.

“I love her,” he declared, this time with a small smile. 

“Aww, look who’s grown a heart.”

Mingi’s ears perked up, and he whirled around to see Wooyoung perched on a low-hanging branch, his black tail swishing lazily. The cat’s eyes twinkled with amusement, his signature smirk in place. 

“It’s the cat!” Hetmon barked excitedly, bounding over to the tree with his tail wagging furiously. He let out another bark, practically vibrating with energy as Wooyoung hopped down from the branch. 

“What are you doing here?” Mingi narrowed his eyes to gaze at the Judge. 

“Am I not allowed to congratulate you? You’re knocking these tasks out in record time” he drawled, arching his spine and flexing his claws. “Touching confession, by the way.”

Mingi puffed up, his fur fluffing indignantly. “What do you want?”

Wooyoung stood, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder with his paw. “I came to remind you that there’s more work to be done. The little girl? That was only task two. Don’t get too comfortable.”

Mingi scowled, his fluffy tail flicking in irritation. “I know that. You don’t need to remind me.”

“But it’s so entertaining,” Wooyoung shot back, his grin widening mischievously. 

“Watching our little hero overcome life’s obstacles for love.”

Then, to Mingi’s surprise, Wooyoung’s expression softened, his usual smirk giving way to something quieter and more thoughtful. 

“Look,” he said, his voice dropping to something almost gentle, “you did well.”

Mingi blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in Wooyoung’s demeanor.  

“You’ve got more heart than you give yourself credit for. You’re capable of putting someone else’s needs before your own. That you can be selfless when it matters.”

Selfless. That wasn’t a word he’d ever used to describe himself. In his human life, everything had been about him: his ambitions, his comforts, his endless need for validation. If something didn’t serve his desires, he’d ignored it, or worse, pushed it away.

He had been selfish. He could see that now, clear as day, and the realization stung. He’d hurt people—hurt you. He’d dismissed your efforts, neglected your feelings, and then, when things fell apart, he had blamed you. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Mingi asked finally, his voice quieter than he intended.

“Because, as much as I enjoy giving you a hard time, I’d rather see you win. For her, but also for you.”

For a moment, Mingi didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t used to this side of Wooyoung—supportive, almost kind. It threw him off balance, but at the same time, it felt…good.

He swore he’d work harder, not just to make things right, but to make you happy. This wasn’t just about earning back his humanity, it was about earning back your trust, your happiness, and maybe, if he was lucky, your forgiveness.

“Hetmon! Maro! Let’s go home!” 

Clutching their leashes in hand, Yeosang hurried toward the dogs, crouching down to clip the leashes onto their harnesses. As they started toward the park’s exit, Yeosang cast one last glance over his shoulder, his jaw tightening. 

“Excuse me?”

Yeosang turned, his usually calm expression darkening as he took in the middle-aged woman approaching him. Her clothes were simple and unremarkable, but her presence carried an unsettling air. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of desperation and misplaced affection that made Yeosang’s skin crawl.

“Can I help you?” he asked flatly, keeping his tone polite but distant.

“C-Can you tell me more about that dog?” she asked, pointing to Mingi. Her voice quivered, but it wasn’t the kind of nervousness Yeosang could dismiss as harmless. It felt...like she was trying too hard to seem unassuming.

“He’s just a pomeranian.”

“Oh, it’s just...he’s so unique.” 

Her smile was tight, forced, and her hands fidgeted restlessly at her sides. “I couldn’t help but notice him. Where did you get him? He’s not from around here, is he?”

Yeosang stiffened, his instincts screaming at him to end the conversation. “I can ask his owner for more information, but—”

“Owner?” she interrupted, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh, so he’s not yours?” She took a step closer, her gaze fixed intently on Mingi. 

“No, but I’m sure you can find a pomeranian for adoption if you reach out to your local shelter.”

But the woman didn’t seem to hear him. Her eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity, and her smile grew wider, almost manic. 

“What about the girl?”

Yeosang’s eyes narrowed. “What girl?”

“The one who owns him,” the woman said, her gaze shifting between Yeosang and Mingi. Her expression softened into something disturbingly wistful.  

“My daughter.”

Yeosang froze, his heart thudding in his chest. “Your daughter?” he echoed, his voice flat and cold, masking the unease creeping up his spine.

The woman nodded, her smile growing wider but no less unsettling. “She’s grown into such a lovely young woman, hasn’t she?”

Yeosang’s grip on the leashes tightened, as he scanned his surroundings for any sign of Hetmon and Mingi. The two were playing under a tree, which was a relief. He took a deliberate step back, placing himself between the woman and the dogs. 

“That’s none of your business,” he said sharply.

But the woman didn’t seem to notice his hostility—or chose to ignore it. “Is she married? Does she live nearby? Does she walk the dogs often?”

Yeosang felt his patience snap. His usually calm demeanor was replaced by a simmering anger. Who was this woman?

“Listen to me. You’re asking invasive, inappropriate questions about someone you don’t know. That’s not curiosity, that’s stalking.”

The woman’s smile faltered but she quickly recovered, her expression twisting into something defensive. 

“I didn’t mean any harm,” she replied, though her tone lacked sincerity. “I just wanted to know more about my daughter. I haven’t seen her in over twenty years ever since her father took her away from me!” Her voice rose on the last part, as if she were struggling to contain an outburst. 

“I don’t know what your problem is, but if I ever see you here again, or if you go anywhere near…your daughter, I won’t be this polite.”

For a moment, there was silence. Her hands trembled slightly, and her breath quickened, but she didn’t speak. Instead, her gaze flickered over to the dogs, then back to Yeosang. With a sharp exhale, she finally turned on her heel, her movements stiff with rage. She stalked off, muttering under her breath, her words inaudible but tinged with frustration.

He watched her retreat, his eyes following her until she was out of sight, and only then did he allow himself to relax slightly. Clutching their leashes in hand, Yeosang hurried toward the dogs, crouching down to clip the leashes onto their harnesses. 

“Hetmon! Maro! Let’s go home!” 

Yeosang kept his eyes scanning the park’s perimeter, making sure the woman didn’t return. His thoughts kept circling back to her, the way she’d spoken about you, referring to you as her daughter. 

He shook his head, trying to push the unsettling thoughts away but the voice in the back of his head kept telling him that you were in trouble. Gripping the leashes a little tighter, Yeosang quickened his pace, the dogs trotting happily at his side as he rushed home. He had to let you know that something was amiss and that you were possibly in danger. 

⋆

You sighed, stretching your stiff muscles as you laid on the sofa. It had been about a month and a half since Mingi’s accident, and the doctors still hadn’t seen any improvement in his condition. The days blurred together–you’d get up, take Maro out, feed him, get ready for your day, check in on the foundation, before contemplating your existence. 

The sofa you’d claimed as your makeshift bed creaked faintly as you shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, though it did little to chase away the cold.

“Found you.”

The voice broke the silence, and you startled, jerking upright as your heart raced. Blinking against the dim light of the hallway, your eyes landed on a figure standing a few feet away.

“Seonghwa?”  

His dark suit was impeccably tailored, his shoes polished to a mirror shine, and his hair so flawlessly styled that you doubted anything about him had ever been out of place. Even now, standing in the dim, unflattering light of the hospital, he looked more suited for the cover of a magazine than the depressing private suite of your comatose husband. Park Seonghwa and his stupidly perfect face and personality, everyone would say. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice still low, more out of habit than necessity.

“I had a meeting with the board,” he said, stepping into the room as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

“At 9 at night?” you asked, eyebrows raising in disbelief.

“Hospital boards don’t keep regular hours,” he replied easily, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

You frowned, pulling your blanket tighter around yourself. “I didn’t think hospitals held board meetings this late.”

“They usually don’t,” he admitted, taking another step closer. “But some discussions can’t wait.” His gaze swept over the room, lingering briefly on the sofa before settling back on you. 

“And what about you? Shouldn’t you be at home? Or at least in an actual bed?”

“I told you,” you muttered, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. “I’m staying with Mingi.”

His expression softened, though the concern in his eyes remained. “You’ve been staying here for weeks, haven’t you?”

“Isn’t that a violation of patient privacy?” you shot back, crossing your arms defensively.

Seonghwa’s lips twitched into the faintest smirk. “First, you’re not a patient. Secondly, news spreads fast when your mother-in-law is…your mother-in-law.”

The mention of her made your jaw tighten instinctively, your grip on the blanket pulling it tighter around you like a shield. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful, she cared in her own way, you supposed. But it was hard not to feel resentment every time you were left to sit by Mingi’s side alone, her absence a glaring reminder of how much he’d been left to you to shoulder.

“I just don’t like the idea of him being left alone.”

“Running yourself into the ground won’t help Mingi. If anything, it’ll make things harder for him, and for you.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he held up a hand, stopping you.

“Humor me,” he said. “When was the last time you did something for yourself?”

You hesitated. You opened your mouth again, searching for a reply—something to prove him wrong—but the words wouldn’t come. Because the truth was…you couldn’t remember.

When was the last time you did something for yourself? Getting coffee with Jiwoo and Jongho didn’t count. The same thing goes with taking Maro out for a walk or hanging out with Yeosang and Hetmon. No, those moments weren’t for you. They were distractions at best, small glimpses of normalcy in the chaos, but they hadn’t been about you.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice softer now. He straightened, motioning toward the door. 

“Come on.”

“Come on where?” 

“For a walk,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“In the middle of the night? In a hospital?”

“My family owns the hospital,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with a faint smirk. “And you need fresh air.”

You stared at him. For a moment, you contemplated saying no, coming up with an excuse to stay planted on the sofa in the darkness of the suite. But the weight of his gaze and his stupid handsome face left little room for argument. 

“Fifteen minutes,” he added softly. “That’s all I’m asking.”

The courtyard was quiet, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of city life. He walked beside you at a leisurely pace, his hands in his pockets, giving you room to gather your thoughts.  

“So,” he said finally, “How are you?”

You blinked, glancing at him. “What?”

He turned his head slightly to meet your gaze. “How are you doing?” he repeated.

The question caught you off guard. Not because it was strange or unwelcome, but because it had been so long since anyone had asked you that. Really asked. 

“I’m fine,” you replied, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“Try again.”

You frowned, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “I said I’m fine,” you repeated, your tone sharper now.

His lips quirked at the corners, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “And I said try again.”

Your frustration flared, but before it could boil over, Seonghwa leaned back against the edge of the fountain, crossing his arms. He took a moment to study you. You were always a little strange, he thought, but not in a bad way. It was in a way that made you stand out amongst the world of the elite. 

You lived in a world of sharp edges, where power was everything, and kindness was a weakness waiting to be exploited. Yet, amidst the cutthroat games of high society, you wore your heart plainly. Somehow, you remained standing, untouched by the corrosive allure of wealth and status. It wasn’t rebellion that set you apart, it was something gentler, something more enduring.

Seonghwa had always admired this about you, even from afar, catching glimpses through the whispers of your peers.

His voice was softer when he spoke again. “You don’t have to tell me everything,” he said. “But don’t lie to me either. You’re not fine.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words were caught in your throat. Instead, you sighed in response, stuffing your hands deeper into the pockets of your jacket. Seonghwa didn’t push, though his gaze lingered for a moment longer before he glanced away.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence again, this time with a lighter tone. “What’s the plan when Mingi wakes up?”

“I haven’t thought about it,” you admitted quietly. “I’m just…focusing on what’s in front of me right now.”

“You’re running yourself ragged for someone who might not do the same for you.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t have empathy for him.”

Seonghwa let out a low hum, his expression thoughtful. “No,” he agreed, his voice almost a murmur. “It doesn’t. But you’re allowed to have empathy for yourself too.”

“You’re too good for our world,” he added. When your eyes flicked to his, he gave you a small, almost wistful smile. 

“You don’t belong in all this chaos, Y/N. You’ve always been…strange.” 

“I get that alot,” you scoffed. “You’re not the first one to point that out.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because people like you get hurt the most in a world like this.”

You turned to look at him, startled by how sincere he was. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say, your arsenal of witty comebacks failing you. Seonghwa wasn't pitying you nor was he being condescending. He was acknowledging you, comforting you. Reminding you that compassion was a strength and it was something you were worthy of receiving, too.

“Is this…” you started, trying to mask the slight tremor in your voice with a teasing tone, “is this part of that charm you’re so infamous for?”

Seonghwa’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Infamous?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smirk and crossing your arms over your chest to regain some sense of control. 

“Your reputation almost rivals Mingi’s.” You hesitated, your voice dipping just slightly as you added, “but, you know, with fewer tantrums.”

“Fewer tantrums, huh? Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?”

You shrugged, feigning indifference, though the teasing glint in his eyes made it harder to keep a straight face. 

“Take it however you want,” you replied lightly.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his grin softening as his tone shifted. “But seriously, you know I’m always around, if you need someone. I mean it.”

You instinctively raised your hand, wiggling your fingers to display your wedding ring. “I’m a married woman.”

“Take it however you want,” he teased, throwing your own words back at you with a wink. “But the offer stands.”

You stared at him, momentarily stunned. Was he genuinely offering support? Or was he trying to make a move on you? Before you could figure out how to respond, the shrill ring of your phone caught you off guard.

Your gaze dropped to the screen, where Yeosang’s name lit up. Grateful for the interruption, you glanced back at Seonghwa with a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

He nodded, leaning back with an easygoing shrug, though his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer.

“Hey Yeosang.”

“Hey! How’s the hospital?”

“Same old,” you replied with a sigh. “Nothing’s really changed with Mingi.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he said, and you could feel the genuine sympathy in his voice. “Maro and Hetmon are all tucked in and asleep in the fort, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure, what’s this about?” you asked, your posture straightening as a flicker of worry crept in.

Yeosang hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Your mother…is Kim Youngji, right? Former Jinhit heiress?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t she be?”

“Well…” Yeosang’s voice lowered, and you could hear the tension creeping in. “There was this strange woman at the park asking questions about Maro like where you got him and whatnot. At first, I thought she was just a dog lover, you know? Interested in him because he’s such a unique breed or something. But then…”

“Then what?” you pressed.

“She started asking about you,” Yeosang said, his voice laced with unease. “And not in a casual way. She was way too specific, Y/N. She claimed you were her daughter.”

“What!?” you exclaimed, your voice rising in disbelief. The absurdity of his words collided with a chilling sense of unease. You looked over to Seonghwa, who had stepped closer, his brow furrowed with concern. 

“She kept pressing,” Yeosang continued, his frustration clear in the clipped tone of his voice. “Her questions got more invasive. She asked if you were married, if you lived nearby, if you were the one who walked Maro most of the time. And then…” He paused, his voice dropping lower. 

“Then she said your dad took you away from her. Like she was claiming he took you away in a custody battle.”

Your heart sank further, a cold knot forming in your stomach. “She said that?”

“Yeah. That’s when I lost my shit. I told her to get lost, grabbed the dogs, and got out of there as fast as I could. But…I have a bad feeling about this, Y/N.”

Your grip on the phone tightened, and you felt Seonghwa’s gaze on you. He didn’t say anything, but the slight tilt of his head reminded you that he was there if you needed him. 

“Thanks for letting me know,” you said finally, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’ll…I’ll talk to my mom about it. Maybe she’ll have some idea of who this woman is.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Yeosang agreed, though his tone remained cautious. “But be careful, okay? Whoever she is, she didn’t seem stable. Take your time with pick up tomorrow.”

“I appreciate that,” you said quietly, “Thanks for looking out for the puppies.”

The call ended, leaving a tense silence in its wake. You lowered the phone, exhaling a shaky breath as you tried to process what you’d just heard. The threat felt closer now, less like a shadow lurking in the background and more like a storm rolling toward you.

“Everything okay?” Seonghwa asked. 

“Yeah…It’s getting late, I should head back.”

Turning on your heel, you made your way back toward the suite, your steps slower now, the conversation playing on a loop in your head. Every shadow seemed sharper, every sound amplified. You tried to focus on the steady rhythm of your breathing, but the sound of Yeosang’s voice wouldn’t leave you.

“Maro! My baby!” you cooed as Mingi bounded toward you. You scooped him up, burying your face in his fur as his excited yips filled the air.

Yeosang stood nearby, a faint smile softening the tension on his face. He held onto Hetmon’s leash, but his gaze kept darting toward the park’s edges, his encounter the day before still fresh. 

“How was he?” you asked, squishing a very happy Mingi against your face. 

“An angel as always,” Yeosang chuckled, scratching the Hetmon between the ears. 

You smiled, but the way his attention flickered nervously to the surrounding trees didn’t escape you. Setting Maro back on the ground, you straightened up, crossing your arms. “What’s wrong? You’ve been on edge since I got here.”

“Just making sure she isn’t lurking around,” Yeosang said, his tone low and cautious. 

“I think she knows more about you than she let on. When she saw Maro yesterday, she called you ‘the girl who owns him.’” He paused, glancing at Maro, who was sniffing the grass. 

“She’s seen him before—maybe even followed you.”

“What did she look like?” you asked. 

“Maybe… mid-forties? Dark hair, pulled back into a ponytail. She had a dark coat, but it wasn’t even that cold yesterday.” He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he recalled the encounter. “And her eyes… She had this deranged look, like she was completely convinced of whatever twisted story she’s telling herself.”

A shiver ran down your spine. You crouched beside Maro, stroking his fur absentmindedly as you tried to process Yeosang’s words. You tried to recall where you’ve seen or heard that description before. But you couldn’t quite figure out where. 

Mingi lifted his head, his nose twitching as an unusual scent wafted through the park. His tail stilled, and his ears perked up, alert to the approaching presence. 

There was a hint of coffee, Black Opium, the faintest whiff of ink and…multiple affairs. The pomeranian’s eyes narrowed, his small body tense as a low growl rumbled from his chest. His gaze snapped to the pathway ahead, where a figure was approaching, and his growls turned to a sharp bark.

You glanced down at him in confusion. “Maro?” you asked, crouching to stroke his head.

Mingi’s growl softened slightly at your touch, but he stayed on high alert, his fluffy frame taut with suspicion. He sniffed the air again as Seonghwa came into view, his presence impossible to ignore.

“Seonghwa?” you said, surprised, turning to find him approaching you and Yeosang. “What are you doing here?”

How convenient Mingi thought bitterly, his gaze never leaving the man. His barks grew more insistent, clearly directed at Seonghwa now.

“Just on my way to grab coffee. Hospital coffee isn’t exactly the best,” Seonghwa explained casually, though his attention drifted to Mingi, who looked seconds away from launching himself at him.

“I see someone’s still not a fan,” he quipped.

“Sorry about that,” you muttered, crouching again to pick up Mingi. “He’s usually so well-behaved.”

Mingi huffed indignantly in your arms, clearly disagreeing with your assessment. Meanwhile, Hetmon, who had been lounging nearby suddenly perked up. His ears twitched, and his nose wriggled as if catching a scent in the air.

Oh no, Maro’s upset, I can feel it. Seonghwa? Is that Seonghwa? The one who was trying to hit on Y/N? The one who almost took her away from Maro? When my friends are upset, it’s my job to help. That’s what I do, I help. Because I’m a good friend!

Time seemed to slow as Hetmon sprung forward, charging toward his unsuspecting target, his powerful frame sending Seonghwa stumbling backward. The man’s eyes widened in surprise as he fell, the force of the impact knocking him off balance. A muffled thud followed as Seonghwa hit the ground, his suit jacket crumpling beneath him. Hetmon stood triumphantly on his chest, barking loudly in satisfaction.

“Hetmon, get off of him!” Yeosang rushed forward, his laid back demeanor replaced by outright horror at the sight of his usually gentle dog standing on Seonghwa’s chest, unrepentant.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he grabbed Hetmon’s harness. “I have no idea what got into him. He’s never done anything like this before.”

A few steps away, Mingi wiggled out of your arms and trotted over to the scene. His tail wagged furiously, his eyes glinting with smug satisfaction as he gave a sharp, triumphant bark. It was clear he approved of Hetmon’s intervention.

You stepped forward to help Seonghwa, stifling a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Behind you, Hetmon and Mingi sat like a united front of mischief, but your smile faltered as an icy sensation crawled down your spine. The air felt heavy, like an unseen gaze pressing watching you, and your chest tightened as your thoughts scattered.

Mingi’s ears flicked and let out an uneasy bark. He sensed it too—something was off.

“I should probably get going,” you said abruptly, your voice wavering despite your best efforts to steady it. 

Both Seonghwa and Yeosang turned to you, concern etched across their faces, but you avoided their eyes, focusing instead on scooping up Mingi. Your legs felt unsteady, each step toward the park’s exit requiring more effort than the last.

“Y/N! Wait, is everything okay?” Seonghwa called after you.

You glanced back just long enough to nod, offering a weak, unconvincing smile before hurrying away. The icy sensation prickling at the back of your neck refused to dissipate, no matter how much distance you put between yourself and the park.

When you reached your car, your hands fumbled with the keys, dropping them twice before you finally managed to unlock the door. You slid inside, slamming it shut and locking it with trembling fingers.

Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to calm yourself, gripping the steering wheel tightly in a futile attempt to ground yourself. Mingi whined softly, climbing into your lap and pressing a paw to your chest. His warm, steady presence was a quiet reminder to breathe, to focus. You closed your eyes, taking shaky, uneven breaths, trying to mimic the calm he radiated.

“Just breathe,” you whispered to yourself, though it sounded more like a plea than a command. Breathe. 

Mingi’s paw stayed firmly on your chest, nuzzling against your chin. If he could, he’d wrap you in his arms and take away all the fear and panic that had overtaken you. He hated seeing you like this, scared, fragile, and hurting, and he wanted to do more. He needed to do more to make sure he could shield you from the world. 

The tears came slower now, the overwhelming panic easing into a dull ache in your chest. You rested your forehead against Mingi’s, whispering a soft, broken “thank you.” He nudged you, promising that he wouldn’t let anything harm you, not while he was by your side.

You closed your eyes and leaned back against the seat, still stroking his fur as he rested against you. “Let’s go home,” you murmured softly, smiling down at your puppy. Mingi’s tail wagged and his ears perked up at your words.

Yeah, let’s go home.

<< iv | vi >>

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@vcutparis

[luvrgreyy]

LAMBS TO THE SLAUGHTER, iv.

leon kennedy x religious f!reader

word count: 4.1k summary: god hates what he can’t have. masterlist | taglist | wips

previous chapter

18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE. themes of religion, manipulation, religious rationalization, age gap(reader is 19, leon is 27), leon being mean for like a split second, kissing, virginity loss, fingering, praise, unprotected sex. this is pretty self indulgent, sorry.

a/n: okay so this might be the last chapter of lambs to the slaughter… i really don’t know how i want to end it so yeah, and i’d rather just wrap this up now that i still like writing about it than force myself to continue with no interest whatsoever. but i do have alot of wips and a few ideas for new series that i look forward to sharing w you guys soon :) thanks so much for the support on ltts, love all of you sm, and hope you all have a great christmas <3

he doesn’t know how it happened or how you ended up here, on the couch, with your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands tangled all up in your hair.

its’s the middle of the week and you went over to his place, like you usually did when your parents were out for work, and now you’re here, your breath hot against his neck and your body pressed close so to his. and it’s all he can focus on. you. you’re all he wants.

the two of you had kissed before, the first time being roughly two weeks ago when you came to him crying, your eyes were red and puffy, and fresh tears were streaking down your cheeks.

the next thing he knew, he had already smothered you with his mouth. it was hard. rough. messy.

when he pulled away, you almost immediately started to complain to him that it was wrong, that the two of you would go to hell for kissing before marriage, and he had to shut you up with another deep kiss before having to talk you through the fact that it wasn’t a bad thing and that the two of you were not gonna go to hell for it, seeing the tears start to swell up in your eyes again.

the coffee mug now sat forgotten on the coffee table, the drink now cold and untouched.

the way your hair feels, tangled between his fingers, as he threads them through the strands.

when he finally pulls back, you're both breathless. your lips are swollen, your hair is mussed, and your clothes are rumpled.

"hey," he reaches up, gently brushing his fingers through the strands of your hair. his other hand slides down your lower back, pulling you flush against him. you're quiet, your eyes fixed on his throat as he speaks. your breathing's harsh, and your body's tense.

“what's wrong?" he asks, his voice soft. you don't answer. can't answer. the words are lodged in your throat, threatening to choke you. all you can do is shake your head.

he kisses you again, his mouth slanting over yours. he shifts you slightly on his lap, so that you're settled on one of his thighs, one leg on either side of it. this new position allows for even closer contact. your body molds against his, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. his hands slide up your waist, his fingers gliding over your back, leaving trails of warmth in their wake.

“leon,” you shiver at the contact, his name falling from your lips like a plea.

his hands tighten on your back, fingers digging in just enough to ground you. “hmm?" he asks, his voice soft, but with a hint of something else. his hands move, one cupping the back of your head, the other on your hip, rocking you softly against his thigh.

one of his hands moves to your knee, gently pushing it forward. the action forces you to spread your legs slightly. the other hand's still on your hip, holding you in place. the hand at your knee begins to drift upward and under your dress, fingers dancing on the skin of your inner thigh. you tremble at the touch, your body reacting before your mind has a chance to process what's happening.

"feel good?" he murmurs against your ear, his breath hot on your skin. the question is rhetorical, and he doesn't wait for an answer.

fingers slip further beneath the dress, fingers splaying across your lower back and creeping up towards your bra clasp.

you try to complain, to object, but all that comes out is a stuttering mess. words jumble in your head, and your mouth refuses to form the right sounds. it's almost as if you've lost the ability to speak, overcome by your body's reaction to his touch.

“what’s wrong, baby?”

his fingers reach the clasp of your bra, and he gently unsnaps it. your body betrays you, arching into his touch despite your protests. his fingers find the underside of your breasts, and you jolt at the sensation.

“leon,” you whisper, voice barely audible. “leon, please… don't want to do anything wrong,"

"baby, there's nothing wrong with this," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "do you trust me?” fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, and you tense, ready to push him away.

"please don't..." you shake your head, unable to find the right words to say. "what if... what if god doesn't understand?"

he pauses at your words, considering them for a long moment. "god gave us free will," he says finally, his voice soft but resolute. "and i think he'd be pretty damn disappointed if we didn't use it." his fingers continue probing into your clothed cunt, tracing the lace trim of your panties, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit through the fabric. you tremble at the contact, your hips shifting slightly of their own accord.

you arch into the touch, your back bowing, and your breath catches in your throat.

"doll," he whispers, the word is almost lost in the kiss he presses to the sensitive skin just behind your ear. "look at me."

you can't, can't bring yourself to do so. your eyes are screwed shut, and your face is flushed.

"c’mon, baby, open your eyes." he prompts again, his tone gentle. and when you refuse to comply, he stops moving his fingers altogether, leaving his thumb pressed to your clit through the lace of your panties.

the pressure is just enough to make you squirm, a constant stimulation that leaves you teetering on the edge.

he gently takes your chin in his hand and tilts your face up towards his. slowly, almost hesitantly, you crack your lids open, peeking through the slits.

"please," you whine, your voice high-pitched and desperate. failing to hide the need and desperation stirring within you. you can't form words, can't string together a coherent thought with his skilled fingers wreaking havoc on your senses. instead, you let out a feeble whimper, your head thrashing from side to side as pleasure mounts within you.

“there you go,” he coos, as if praising a small child for completing a task.

"see?" you search his face, seeking some sign of deception, but find only sincerity and unwavering devotion. "nothing bad is happening. it just feels good, that's all." your lashes flutter, struggling to obey. and yet, you yield. your body melting into his touch, and your head tilting back to rest against his shoulder. leon's hand slides up to cradle your face, his thumb caressing your cheek as he whispers reassurance against your hair.

"breathe for me, baby," he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple.

"it's alright," he soothes. "i've got you." your head starts to spin, and your heart pounds in your ears. your skin feels too tight, like it can barely contain the heat rising to the surface. his fingers finally find the edge of your panties, and with a swift motion, his thumb rubs against your clit, and you jolt, a strangled moan escaping your lips.

“leon,” you whine out, his name torn from your throat. his fingers continue their assault, rubbing and pressing against your cunt.

he chuckles low in his throat, the sound vibrates against your body. “yeah? you like that?”

you nod, unable to speak.

his tongue plunders your mouth, taking what he wants. you submit to the kiss, your body pliant against him.

you're sprawled across his lap, your legs draped over each other, your skirt riding up your thighs. his hands are everywhere at once, palming your breasts, teasing your nipples, rubbing your clit. you're panting, your breath coming in harsh gasps.

your skin's flushed, your cheeks burning, and your heartbeat's pounding in your ears. "fuck," he mutters, his eyes locked on yours.

two of his fingers swiftly push inside of you, and you cry out, your body bowing off his lap, nails digging into his thigh. he holds you steady, his other hand gripping your hip.

"relax, princess," he coos. "so tense."

you squeeze your eyes shut, your body trembling. his fingers move, sliding against the slick walls of your pussy.

you tremble and shake, your body trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. his fingers move, curling and straightening, rubbing against that one spot inside of you that makes you see stars. "lemme hear you, baby," he prompts. "make some noise for me."

you whimper, a broken, keening sound escaping your lips. he chuckles low in his throat, the vibrations of the sound seeming to reach down and press against your clit. "that's it, such a good little doll f’me. feels good, doesn’t it?"

he's right, it feels amazing. you've never felt anything like it before. his thumb is relentless against your clit, your hands fisting in his shirt. you're lost in a sea of sensation, his fingers and thumb working your cunt like it's the most important thing in the world.

“there you go, baby," he murmurs. "just a lil' more." you're not sure what he's asking for, not really. but you feel it in your bones, in the way your entire body is tightening up like a coil spring.

"lemme hear you," he prompts, his voice low and gravelly.

and then you do. you scream, the sound ripping from your throat as your body convulses and spasms. your vision goes white, and for a moment, you're weightless, floating in a sea of bliss. when you come back to yourself, you're slumped against him, your body limp and boneless. he's still rubbing your clit with his thumb, his fingers still curled inside of you, milking out every last wave of pleasure.

"so pretty when you cum," he breathes, his lips brushing against your temple. "so beautiful.”

you can't form a coherent response, not that you'd know what to say. your brain's gone mushy, and all you can do is sag against him. his fingers slowly withdraw, and you whimper, feeling the empty ache of your spent cunt.

“i wanna try somethin' else," he starts to maneuver you. "c'mon, baby, let’s get this off you," he says, pulling your dress up and off.

you don't protest, letting him strip you naked.

he helps you scoot further up the couch, until you're more reclined, your back pressed against the cushions. he settles between your spread thighs, his body looming over yours.

he positions himself at your entrance, the thick crown of his cock notched against your slit. he pushes forward, and you feel him start to penetrate, your body resisting his invasion.

"aah—“ you whimper, forehead creasing.

"n-no, don’t.." you try to protest, but it comes out as a moan. he chuckles softly, the vibration of his laughter sending shivers through your body.

"’m not doing anything wrong," he reminds you. "think you're forgetting that you’re the one who came to me."

his hands grip your knees, holding them back as he sinks more of himself inside of you. you whine, the sting of the stretch causing you to gasp. but it's a good stretch, like after waking up from a long nap. he sets a slow, deep pace, his hips rocking against yours. your hands reach out, grasping at his shoulders for balance.

"shh, 'm sorry, baby," he grimaces, his pace slowing. "gotta break you in real quick, ‘ts only gonna hurt a bit.”

you try to push against his chest, but he's too strong. he keeps pushing forward, forcing his way into your resisting body. the intrusion is painful, making you instinctively flinch and and jerk away.

"jesus, just fuckin— fucking relax, okay? you're only makin' it worse for yourself,"

he leans down, claiming your mouth in a deep, hungry kiss as he bottom's out, buried to the hilt inside of you. "mmpff—“ you mewl against his lips.

your cunt clenches around him, trying to coax him deeper. he groans into the kiss, the vibration of the sound sending tingles through your body.

he starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a slow, deep grind. you're still sore, still stretching to accommodate his size, but with each passing moment, the pain fades, replaced by a growing sense of pleasure.

"feels good, doesn't it?" he asks, his voice a low rumble. "i know, dolly. i know,”

he nuzzles against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he sets a slow, easy pace. his hands slide up your legs, your thighs, your hips. one hand comes back up to hold your knees, pushing them down to spread you open.

"gonna take my time with you, princess," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "work you open, nice and slow,”

he's huge, and it hurts, but there's something else, something that makes the pain worthwhile. pleasure, building at the base of your spine.

he sets a slow, deep pace, his hips rocking against yours. your hands reach out, grasping at his shoulders for balance. you take a shallow breath, and then another, your body starting to unclench. he starts to pull back, sliding out of you, and you whine in protest. but he's just switching it up, angling himself and pushing back inside. and this time, it doesn't hurt so much. in fact, it feels downright good.

"you gotta breathe, baby," he pants, forehead pressed against yours. "just f'get about it. breathe."

he kisses you again, the movements slow and languid, like he's savoring something delicious.

you're not sure how long he works you open. it could've been minutes or hours. time seems to blur together into nothingness. at some point, he tilts his hips, and you feel him nudging against a spot inside of you that makes your whole body jerk. he does it again, and again, until you're writhing beneath him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

"yeah, baby, that's it," he groans, forehead pressed against yours. "show me how bad you want it." you try to speak, to tell him that you don't know what he's talking about, that this is all wrong. but the words won't come.

all that comes out is a keening moan, a sound that's equal parts pain and pleasure. he's still easing you open, stretching you in ways you never thought possible. but it's no longer painful, not in the way it was before.

it's... pleasant. yeah, that's the only way to describe it. pleasant and good and right.

"fuckin’ hell, look at you, baby. takin' it so good, you were made for this, doll. made to take my cock," he starts to speak, his words a stream of praise and nonsense, but you barely register what he's saying. the words are distant, a blur of noise as your focus narrows down to the sensations raging through your body.

his hips are moving in a blur now, slamming into you with a rhythmic intensity that's pushing you towards some unknown precipice. he's saying things, praising you, telling you how good you look, how perfect your cunt is wrapped around his cock.

the words are lost on you, drowned out by the escalating tide of pleasure.

“i knew you'd fit me so good," he pants, his hips snapping harder now, driving deeper. "every inch of you made just for me. so perfect ‘nd pretty. and this perfect fuckin’ cunt... fuck, baby... tightest pussy i’ve ever had…" his words are a blur, a stream-of-consciousness praise that washes over you in waves. you can't process them, not really. all that matters is the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you wide, hitting that spot that makes sparks fly behind your eyes.

your nails dig into his shoulders, your back arching off the couch as he pistons in and out of you, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. your inner muscles are fluttering, clenching around him like a vice, urging him on.

"s'not fuckin' fair," he grunts, his pace faltering for a moment as he fights for control. he's chasing something, you can tell. his movements become jerky, erratic, like he's on the verge of losing control.

"feels too fucking good." he regains his composure, redoubling his efforts until the room is filled with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and your high-pitched moans.

the pleasure builds and builds, coiling tighter and tighter in your gut until you're sure you'll snap. he's hitting that spot inside of you again and again, and you're teetering on the brink — it's all too much, and yet, somehow, not enough.

"please," you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for.

"yeah, baby?" he prompts, his hips stilling deep inside of you. "whatcha need?" you can't form the words, not really. your voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. all that manages to slip out is:

"more."

his hips flex, and he slams into you again, the force of his thrust sending you sprawling back against the cushions. you gasp, your eyes widening as he bottoms out once more, his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

"so greedy," his hips start to move again, slowly at first, but picking up speed as he senses your desperation. "atta girl.”

each thrust jars you to your core, and you can only cling to him, your nails raking down his back as you're fucked into oblivion.

his fingers weave through your hair, holding your head still as his lips trail over your face. he kisses your eyelids, the bridge of your nose, your cheekbones. each press of his mouth against your skin is gentle, soothing, a contrast to the roughness of his lovemaking.

"easy, baby," he coos, his voice a low, rumbling vibration against your ear that seems to seep into your very bones.

his fingers tighten in your hair, holding you as he peppers you face with a series of gentle, soothing kisses. he's a paradox — the way he's caressing you, holding you, so gently, delicately. but the way he’s been fucking you is anything but.

you feel the change in him, a subtle shift in his movements, his breaths. he's close, you realize, and so are you. there’s that coil in your stomach, something that’s warm and fluttering, building towards something you can't quite reach yet.

“leon, leon— feel weird, again..” you stumble on your words.

"weird's good, doll. means you're gettin' there,” he assures. “just... f'get about it. breathe,”

at the same time, he picks up his pace, his hips slapping against yours with a rhythmic intensity that threatens to shake the couch apart.

"gonna cum soon," he warns, his words a guttural groan, his thrusts even more erratic. "when i do, i want you to let go for me, 'kay? just... just fall apart," he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath washing over your skin.

"gonna fill you up," he grunts, his voice strained. "make a mess of your perfect little cunt.”

and your body responds, as if driven by an outside force. your muscles lock, your back arching impossibly high. your cunt spasms around him, milking his cock for all it's worth as it finally rips through you. a blinding, white-hot rush.

his cock throbs inside you, his hips stuttering against yours as he finally reaches the same peak.

hot strings of cum paint the inside of your walls as he empties himself deep inside you. he stays buried inside of you for long moments after, and you’re not sure exactly how long. but when you finally come down from the high, you find yourself draped across his chest, his hands rubbing slow circles on your back, your sides, soothing you as the aftershocks slowly dissipate.

you're a puddle of warmth and satisfaction, your body splayed beneath his, his softening cock still buried deep inside of you.

you're still limp and pliant in his arms, your breath coming in soft pants against his chest.

he shifts slightly, easing his himself out of you with a soft squelch. you flinch at the sensation, and he notices, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you into his arms. he strokes your hair, your back, your sides, his touch gentle and soothing.

"stay a little longer, alright? just... a little bit more," he asks, his tone sweet and pleading. you blink slowly, trying to clear the haze from your mind. it's hard to think clearly when he's speaking to you like this, his words dripping with affection and adoration.

he's saying things, nice things, telling you how amazing you are, how perfect you are for him, how much he needs you. it's all a blur, a warm, fuzzy haze that surrounds you, envelops you. it makes you feel cherished, special, like you're the only person in the world.

and you feel like you'd do anything to please him, to make him happy.

your mind flits to the clock on the mantle, its numbers seeming to mock you. you should go home, you know that. your parents will be back soon, and you can't afford to be late again.

“leon… i can’t,”

“c’mon, baby," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "just a few more minutes,” you swallow hard, your pulse fluttering in your throat. it makes you weak in the knees, it takes everything in you not to give in to his request.

“but—“

his arms tighten around you, holding you impossibly close as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "please, doll," he murmurs in a low, honeyed tone that seeps into your very bones. "i need you. just a little more time, 'kay?" his words are a gentle persuasion, a tender plea that tugs at your heartstrings.

he's been so gentle with you, so caring. "i'll make it up to you," he promises, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "i'll take you out, wherever you want to go. just... stay with me a little longer, okay?”

the room feels smaller somehow, as though the world itself has shrunk to the space between his heartbeat and yours. your lips part, the beginnings of another protest forming, but the weight of his gaze stops you short. there’s something in his eyes —dark, pleading, a flicker of vulnerability that you can’t quite name.

“okay,” you whisper at last, the word barely audible, a ghost of sound that slips past your lips before you can think better of it.

his face softens instantly, relief washing over his features like a summer tide. “yeah?” he breathes, his smile curling slow and dangerous, like he knows he’s won.

you nod faintly, unsure of what exactly you’ve just agreed to, or why it feels both terrifying and impossible to resist. your thoughts churn, hazy and fragmented, but his fingers are already lacing through yours, grounding you, tethering you to this moment.

“that’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvet hum that sends shivers down your spine. “i knew you’d understand.”

you close your eyes, letting yourself sink further into his embrace. it’s too easy, the way his words coax you into letting go of the worries clawing at the edges of your mind. for now, it feels safe — his arms, his voice, the way he holds you as if you’re something precious, something he can’t bear to let slip away.

he pulls you closer, your head resting on his shoulder, your legs tucked up against him. you can feel his heartbeat against your cheek, steady and strong. "rest, baby," he soothes. "you had a long day.”

tags: @crowleyco @withonly-sweetheart @fanilkychae @clitorphosis

[obsidiannebula]

How to Spot AI-Generated Reference Texts

This morning I celebrated a lovely Christmas with my family. My 3 year old was ecstatic, I made my brother tear up, it was a good time. But I received something that at first, seemed like the kind of thing I would very much like to own... until I started actually looking through it. I quickly realized that this book is unmistakably AI-generated slop and should not be used or trusted as an actual reference guide. Having not been written by an actual expert in the field or even compiled by an actual researcher citing sources and synthesizing information, these books are at best three hundred pages of reading the first couple of sentences of a search result for each topic, and at worst full of dangerous misinformation that can get people killed, as with the rise of AI-generated mushroom foraging books. These are in no way reliable reference guides for anything, but especially for anything with potential health risks like ingesting plants and their compounds.

So today I'm going to try and get some good use out of this book I now own by using it to demonstrate how to spot AI-generated scam books.

The first red flags jump out at us right from the cover. This is "The Home Apothecary Full Collection: Your In-Depth Holistic Guide with Natural Herbal Remedies for Long-Lasting Wellness and Optimal Health." Yeesh, what a mouthful. A soulless, artless mouthful, I must add. But hey, maybe this author is a very clinical or verbose type. Except a quick search for the author's name, Megan Morren, quickly makes it clear that this is not a real person. There is one bare-bones Facebook profile for a Megan Morren, and no social media beyond that. No LinkedIn or Pinterest or mentions in an article, nothing. Every other result shows her books: this one, and two others nearly identical to it, with slightly different names but the same "1500+ Remedies/Extra Content" claim in the same corner, utilizing the same fonts and each with a very similar AI-generated background.

That's right, we've got a pretty bog-standard AI-generated image for the cover of this book, showcasing a variety of vaguely herbal plants and jars as well as several nonsensical non-objects.

Okay, so the cover was definitely made by AI, but maybe this author is writing under a pseudonym and visually just not very creative. Let's open it up and took a look at...

Oooookay so that's how we're getting the "40 books in one" claim touted on the cover. What most people would call a chapter is here billed as an entire book, with each subtopic considered its own chapter. There's not more than two or three "chapters" per "book" and most of the chapters are only one or two pages long, which is some James Patterson-ass shit. At least if Patterson had written this book there'd be a little character to the narration and an attempt at wit, but as we'll soon see, the actual writing is... wanting, to say the least.

Obviously the first observation here is that formatting is for the BIRDS. No paragraph breaks or indents, and the paragraphs are all of roughly similar length. Furthermore, the writing reads like a copy/pasted Wikipedia page. Scratch that, I went ahead and typed "history of herbal healing" into a search engine and found the actual Wikipedia page for "History of herbalism," which actually does provide more detail on the topic as well as FIFTY-FOUR ACTUAL SOURCES and some recommended further reading, making it vastly superior to this slop. Because there's not a single source cited in this entire book, nor is there an author bio here or online that remotely suggests that the author might have some experience and expertise from which they are drawing to write or even fact-check this book.

On top of that, there is truly no authorial voice whatsoever. Even if you wanted to be very academic about it and avoid using first-person in your reference book, there should at least be some synthesizing of sources and information, expanding on the ideas presented and combining them to draw new conclusions or illustrate points. But everything here is incredibly surface-level, like someone copied the first sentence or three from the first Google result and stuck it there and then moved on to the next bullet point in the outline.

Seriously, this whole book is just page after page of walls of text. It's a nightmare to try to read if you have any sort of reading-impairing disorder like dyslexia or ADHD, and it's also just kind of ugly. And in a book supposedly about herbalism, there is not a single image or diagram. That's wild to me. There is nothing in here to aid with plant identification or demonstrate the tincturing or decocting processes or anything. I've never read an herbalism book without a single picture or diagram. Granted, I've only read a handful, but still, it seems very strange to me. And god did these endless blocks of text need SOMETHING to break them up.

Also these introductory paragraphs just scream "obligatory" to me. They're all a single paragraph of approximately the same length, providing a perfunctory and colorless overview of the subject matter. I mean, seriously? We're starting off "uplifting herbs for depression" with "Depression affects millions globally. It is characterized by x and y. While it is conventional treated with medication and therapy, there are also some herbs that can improve mood." It's so bland and robotic and uninformative. I think most fifth graders could write a better introductory paragraph, as long as we didn't penalize them for spelling or grammar.

I'd really like to get back to spending the holiday with family, so I'm going to leave it at that. It's just so frustrating to see books like this pushing legitimate texts written by real people with real expertise or at least personality out of bookshelves and searches, propagating useless or even dangerous information in place of sharing real knowledge and traditions. I had to rant a little bit and get it off my chest.I wish everyone a safe and happy holiday season, and all the best for 2025. Everyone, that is, except "Megan Morren." Whoever you really are, I hope you step on Legos every day for the rest of your life. It's the least you deserve for publishing trash like this.

[agentstarkid]

REVENANT ✦ DR3

The word "Revenant" originates from the French term meaning "one who returns", typically referring to someone who has come back from the dead. In a broader, metaphorical sense, it can signify a powerful return or revival of one's presence or influence after a period of absence or dormancy. Much like a phoenix rising from its ashes, a revenant embodies the idea of rebirth and transformation. This concept fits perfectly with the rebirth of someone's image, suggesting a dramatic resurgence where the individual re-emerges stronger and more resilient than before. Just as the phoenix symbolizes renewal and immortality, a revenant signifies the indomitable spirit of overcoming past setbacks and reasserting oneself with renewed vigor and purpose. In the context of personal reinvention, the revenant represents a profound metamorphosis, where an individual sheds their old self, overcoming the remnants of past failures, heartaches, and struggles.

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ PIT BOARD: social media au | ✦ FC: becky g

✦ TRACK LIMITS: just fluff and Rúben being a simp <3

✦ MAY'S RADIO: hooooli, guys! MERRY CHRISTMAS, FELIZ NAVIDAD!!! Sending you all big hugs and forehead kisses 🤗 it's been a while...*checks wristwatch* huh only six months 😅 if you are still here you have my full gratitude and love. Thank you for being patient with me 🖤 it's definiely been a crazy year for me, especially the second half of it! To the nonnie(s) that asked for more Rúben, this chapter is all for you 😘 and tysm for all the asks you send me, those are the highlight of my week! OH to the nonnie who didn't believe when I said it was coming this december...buen provecho, bebé 😏🖤

< previous chapter | series masterlist | general masterlist

JANUARY 3, 2023

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January 23, 2023

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yourinstagram Ain't got time for dying, I'm too busy thriving

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bohnes ✔ Song choice on point, attitude on fire 🔥

alexalbon ✔ YN, please, my girlfriend is on this app

lilymhe ✔ mooove I'm trying to stare at yn 😍 alexalbon ✔ lilymhe 😤😤😤 yourinstagram ✔ are we about to kiss rn?? lilymhe move noddle boy don't be greedy alexalbon

carmenmmundt ✔ oh my, yourinstagram drop the routine please 😍

rubendias ✔ Keep showing them how it’s done. That’s the woman I love ❤️

yourinstagram ✔ rubendias I know an amazing man from who I learn a lot from ❤️

andrew_allen ✔ can't stop, won't stop 🫡

chloestroll ✔ This is the energy we all need in our lives

pauljasonklein ✔ They weren’t ready for this level of unbothered energy 💅

lewishamilton ✔ Let your success be the loudest clapback

chappellroan ✔ They’re watching, wishing they had your strength

mariahthescientist ✔ some people are just background noise while you're center stage

taylorswift ✔ Imagine thinking you could mess with Y/N

saweetie ✔ mood: middle finger up, success all around 🖕💅

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FEBRUARY 1, 2023

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FEBRUARY 4, 2023

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yourinstagram 08.03.23 💋

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user EVERYONE GET UP POP LATIN EMERGENCY

lilymhe ✔ WE WILL BE STREAMING

tchalamet ✔ seated.

ameliadimz ✔ omg

user3 Can't wait!! what kind of vibes are we getting this time?

user4 WE ARE READY FOR THE NEW ERAAAAAAA

user5 This video has such powerful energy! It’s like Y/N saying, ‘I’m done with the bullshit and I’m stronger than ever’ Can’t wait to hear these songs 🤩

madelyncline ✔ i canceled my plans for this

user6 She’s burning it all down—those love notes are GONE. She’s rising from the ashes stronger than ever!!

sabrinacarpenter ✔ I forgot how to breathe omg

user7 ARE THOSE THE LOVE NOTES BEING BURNED???!!! AND SHE CHOSE TODAY OF ALL DAYS TO POST IT??? 😭

userA choosing what would've been her 3rd anniversary with daniel to post this video is a bold move lmao she is THAT BITCH and she done giving af as she mahfucking should 👏👏

user8 The flames reflecting in her eyes, the love notes, and then that last frame of her just looking unbothered?? QUEEN 👑

user9 Sis is burning down everything that doesn’t serve her anymore. This album is about to be a masterpiece of heartbreak and growth 🔥💔

user10 This video is EVERYTHING. She’s putting her past in the fire, and it’s only making her stronger. Album of the year incoming!! 🤩

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MARCH 1, 2023

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yourinstagram Last night was a dream I never imagined. Thank you, billboard, for the Impact Award – an honor I share with every single person fighting for change, for equality, for representation. 🌟

Using my platform to support underrepresented communities across the U.S. and Latin America is my greatest privilege, but the work is far from over. We have a long road ahead, and it’s up to all of us to keep pushing for a world where every voice is heard and every dream has a chance. 💖

I made a vow to my community, to my family, to my younger self that maybe the promise wasn’t that I wouldn’t leave where I came from, but that I would take where I’m from wherever I go. Without fear, there is no courage and with that same courage, we can make impact. This isn’t just my award – it’s for everyone who stands up, speaks out, and lifts others up. Let’s keep going, together ✨

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rubendias ✔ ¡Parabéns, anjo! Eres un ejemplo de cómo usar tu voz para el bien. Sigue brillando, mi amor 💖 [⥂ translation: Congratulations, angel! You are an example of how to use your voice for good. Keep shining, my love 💖]

userA WAIT HE SPEAKS SPANISH, TOO?! 😳 SHUUUUUTCHOO MOUFF 🥵 userB yourinstagram when's the wedding???

mrodofficial ✔ YESSS!! You’re a real one, always out here making waves. Congrats, mi reina 👑🖤

dovecameron ✔ no one's more deserving than you 🖤

user Some people tried to dim your light, but you’ve only grown brighter. You’re showing everyone what it means to rise above the noise and make a REAL impact. We’re so proud of you!

americaferrera ✔ An award that reflects the beautiful person you are, inside and out. You deserve this and so much more. Love you! ❤️

taylorswift ✔ So proud of you!! Your heart, your talent, your impact—everything you do inspires me and so many others. Congrats on this well-deserved award! 💖

user2 THIS is what we love to see—someone making waves and lifting others up. Thank you for being the role model we all need

user3 Seeing you win this award after all the struggles you faced… WOW. You’re a shining example of strength and perseverance

fioamato Girl, they tried to knock you down, but you’ve only risen higher 🔥

lizzo ✔ LEGEND. You inspire so many people and this award proves that. Keep shining, sis! 💫🙌

rosalia.vt ✔ ¡Felicidades hermosa! Esto es solo el principio de todo lo que estás logrando. Te quiero mucho ❤️🔥 [⥂ translation: Congrats beautiful! This is just the beginning of everything you are achieving. I love you so much.]

itsvittoriasousa What they don’t understand is that you’ve always been more than the noise. You’ve been quietly making waves, and now the world is seeing the real you ❤️

user4 While others were busy trying to tear you down, you were busy lifting others up. That’s what makes you different. That’s what makes you legendary 🙌

karolg ✔ ¡Esooo! Siempre tan increíble en todo lo que haces. Te lo mereces, Y/N. 💖✨ #BossLady [⥂ translation: That's right! Always so amazing in everything you do. You deserve it, Y/N.]

user5 You’ve faced the storm with grace and turned it into something powerful. Your dedication to helping others shows what a true queen you are. We love you, Y/N! 💕👑

iamdannaschwarz Congrats babe!!! You’re such a force, I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished. This is just the beginning. 💫💜

greeicy ✔ ¡Yasss! ¡Tú lo mereces todo! Proud of you, amiga, sigue rompiendo barreras y haciendo historia. 💪🏽💜

halsey ✔ Your heart is as big as your talent. This award couldn’t have gone to a better person. Congrats, love! 💕

evalongoria ✔ 👏👏👏 You’re a true inspiration, keep using that platform for good. So proud of you, love! 💖

anitta ✔ QUEEN! You’re killing it and this is just proof. Congrats on everything! 💃🏼💖

evaluna ✔ Te quiero y te admiro tanto!! You’re an inspiration to all of us. Congrats on this award, it’s so deserved ❤️✨

salmahayek ✔ ¡Esooo! Siempre haciendo la diferencia. You’re a true star inside and out. Proud of you, mi reina! 🔥💜

cardib ✔ Yessss!!! You out here doing big things, mama! Keep shining and making that impact 💪🏽🔥

ivyqueendiva ✔ Pa'lante siempre, mami! Este premio es solo un reflejo de la grandeza que llevas dentro. ¡Felicidades! 💜👑

nattinatasha ✔ ¡Orgullosa de ti, siempre usando tu voz para el bien! Congrats, amiga, te lo mereces. 💖🙌

sza ✔ Your power is undeniable, and your heart even more so. Congrats, babe! Keep changing the world. 🌍💫

user6 the video of her meeting lana is sooo cute!! you can clearly see how excited and nervous she was 🥹

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MARCH 8, 2023

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APRIL 2, 2023

liked by xtina, danielricciardo, rubendias and 2,145,873 others

yourinstagram I'm not a martyr, I'm a problem 💋 This record is my heart laid bare—stories of love, loss, strength, and everything in between. It’s raw, vulnerable, and unapologetically me. ✨ These songs are my heart in harmony, and I hope they find a place in yours.

This one’s for the fighters, the dreamers, and anyone who’s ever rebuilt themselves from the ashes. To everyone who’s been on this journey with me—thank you for waiting, supporting, and giving me your love through it all ❤️‍🔥 REVENANT IS OUT NOW‼️

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rubendias ✔ A masterpiece from a woman who’s already the greatest work of art 💯❤️

yourinstagram ✔ And yet somehow, you’re the one who leaves me speechless 😘

maya_hawke ✔ what the heck girl this is sooooo good!!!

luisinhaoliveira99 the queen is back ❤️ ily

phoebebridgers ✔ Creating magic with you was a dream. So proud of the song and so proud of you. 🖤✨

leonbridges ✔ It was an honor to bring superbloom to life with you. Your vision and talent are next level—this album is pure gold 🙌🏿

reesewitherspoon ✔ favorites so far: 1. Superbloom 2. Nightmare 3. Who's afraid of little old me?

kelseaballerini ✔ on repeat all day! ily, you beautiful mind

halsey ✔ They tried to bury you, but you grew roots instead

taylorswift ✔ Another masterpiece from the queen herself

yourinstagram ✔ what can I say, I have a great mentor 🤷🏽‍♀️💖

lewishamilton ✔ Even from the ashes, we still rise 💜

yourinstagram ✔ lewishamilton It’s not about how we fall but how we rise—and you’ve always reminded me of that. Love you, big bro 💜 Forever grateful.

natalie_pinkham ✔ Some stories are worth waiting for ❤️

userA can I just say that I love how all of Daniel's friends are always so lovely towards her even if they've been broken up for over a year, that kind of let's you know what kind of a person she is 🥹

martingarrix ✔ Proud to see you create something this special! Absolutely incredible 👏🏻

sabrinacarpenter ✔ I was NOT ready for this album! wow, just wow

lancebass ✔ I haven't even gotten through the whole thing because I had to keep playing so many over and over and over! You done GOOD Y/N! ❤️❤️

yourinstagram ✔ UHM HELLO?? I LOVE YOU??? ❤️

user A year of silence, and then BOOM! Y/N just reminded everyone why she’s untouchable. This album is art. 🔥

scottyjames31 ✔ I'm sure all of Monaco already knows every lyric from the album from being on repeat for hours 🤘🏻

user2 the important question here is... have daniel already listened to the album????? 👀👀👀

userA user BESTIE I THINK HE DEFINITELY DID HE JUST LIKED HER POST!!! userB somebody send the cia to his house bcuz I need to know if he is on the floor, on his knees, tears falling to the ground, pathetic, gripping his chest to try and stop the pain 😤

user3 I was honestly expecting more songs about Danielito on the album

userA bestie sameee! but I have this theory that she's saving those more heart-wrenching songs for later 😶‍🌫️ userB userA yes yes yes bc u can't tell me she only wrote like 9 songs for him?? fuck no, she's evil (lovingly) she's gonna drop those when we least expect it and leave us in shambles i just know it

user4 The best art is created from struggle and sadness,,, this album is sad and real and Y/N,,, It makes me wanna punch anyone that hurt that woman's feelings,,, but no one can punch them worse than Y/N and her piano, guitar and pen. happy she found happiness

noahkahan ✔ obsessed ❤️

reneerapp ✔ For the life of me, I can’t comprehend how someone can deliver a perfect song like camera roll? You have such an incredible tone, your pen game is unreal…

user5 She went through hell and came back like this?!! Y/N, you’re a literal goddess. This album is everything and more

sophiet ✔ girl you bet it's been on repeat ALL DAY LONG ❤️

keleighteller ✔ The charts are shaking already ❤️

user6 This album is a reminder that no matter what life throws at her, Y/N is always going to come out on top. She just keeps winning 👑

daughtry ✔ This is what music is all about—raw, real, and unforgettable. Huge congrats! 👏

user7 Why is ‘Camera Roll’ making me feel things I wasn’t ready to feel today? this song just ripped me apart & ruined me GOODNIGHT !!!!!

userA she just knows how to capture that bittersweet nostalgia perfectly userB knowing how much she loves photography I KNOW her camera roll is full of photos of Daniel 😭 I'd sell my soul to be able you go through each and every single one of them userC It’s not just about scrolling through pictures; it’s about how those photos hold pieces of a love that’s no longer there. As someone who loves photography too, it hits so deep—those little moments captured forever, but the person’s gone 💔 userD she was so right abt going through your camera roll. do not touch that shit. oh my god.

user8 'I’m Not a Woman, I’m a God' is THAT song. Y/N’s on her goddess energy and I’m here for every second of it 👑

user9 When 'Traitor' came on, I felt that in my soul. She put her whole heart into this one 💔😭 Daniel u better ruuuuuun #JusticeForYN

user10 the whole album going from being so full of rage and anger with the first songs to heartbreak and hurt to resignation and acceptance to finding happiness and falling in love again is just sooo chef's kiss!!!!

user11 was having a good day and then I listened to doomsday and now i’m crying in my car before work

user12 I can’t get over how vulnerable 'The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived' is. It’s so poetic but hits like a dagger 💔

userA that song is definitely about Sebastián The Rat userB "You didn't measure up in any measure of a man" sheeeeesh if I was him I'd go to the furthest place on earth and never show my face again userC he should have just stay quiet lmao she murdered him

user13 the smallest man who ever lived was written for people with exes who will never take accountability for their own actions , thank u y/n

user14 Quisiera borrarme la memoria y volver a darle play a “Space Cowboy” esperando que la canción fuera sobre un vaquero espacial y luego darte cuenta que es sobre dejar ir al vaquero del que estás enamorado porque ya no quiere estar contigo

user15 Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve is the darkest song Y/N has ever written. I’m literally nauseous, it was grooming point blank. And Y/N called him out on it

userA “Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first” is giving me chills userB sebastian's days are so very numbered I feel SICK after listening to it userC ‘Memories are weapons.’ The heaviness of that, and the way all of us that have experienced trauma felt that line. userD it was seriously so heartbreaking and her vocals literally sound like longing to be set free from those dark memories and wanting to erase the experience still having to bear the toll it takes on you

user16 i love how in dear reader y/n starts giving us advice and tells us to never take advice from someone who's falling apart and a few seconds later she's literally falling apart, even when she's giving advice you can hear a distorted voice say "you should find another" that song is a masterpiece

user17 I can’t stop cryinggggg with ‘Bigger Than the Whole Sky’ 💔😭 This song… I’m devastated. Knowing it was written for Daniel just makes it hit even harder. The emotion in every lyric is unreal

userA that song is so hauntingly beautiful. Y/N’s voice captures the pain of losing someone so perfectly. You can feel the heartbreak in every note, she’s singing all the things we never say when love ends. This one’s going to stay with me for a long time 🥺 userB "Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness" just cuts me so deep userC This song made me feel things I wasn’t ready to feel 🥺 is like Y/N’s goodbye letter to Daniel, but the love is still there, in every lyric. You can feel the weight of the love she lost in every single word 💔 userD She turned heartbreak into art, and now I’m over here crying my eyes out

user18 who the hell allowed y/n l/n to write “nothing new” and then ALSO have phoebe bridgers feature on it cause OW

user19 this whole album was so well curated like it went from female rage to heartbreak to sadness to a (small) "i'm in love again" interlude to acceptance and finally "this is me, i'm human"

user20 Rúben Dias has this girl in her feels, huh?

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rubendias To the world, she’s a superstar. To me, she’s everything 🌍💙 Orgulhoso, anjo 😘 Happy Revenant Day everyone!

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yourinstagram ✔ te amo meu céu 💙

jackgrealish ✔ if I had a dollar for every time u mentioned Y/N’s album these past month I’d be able to buy them all myself! 😂😂 big congrats youinstagram 💙 album is fire! 🔥

♥ yourinstagram likes this

zecondessa ✔ Ser o teu melhor amigo significa que recebo passes grátis para os bastidores? 👀

⥂ translation: Does being your best friend mean I get free backstage passes? 👀

bernardocarvalhosilva ✔ parabéns a ela por ser a super-estrela e a si por de alguma forma a convencer a ficar consigo! 😬 [⥂ translation: Congrats to her on being a superstar and to you for somehow convincing her to stay with you! 😬]

yourinstagram ✔ obrigada, bernardocarvalhosilva! hmm convincing might be a stretch—but his cooking did help to seal the deal. I stay well-fed and well-loved ☺️

ivandias03 Guess I’ll have to start saying "my brother’s girlfriend just dropped the best album of the year" now, huh? 😆 Parabéns yourinstagram 👏🏽❤️

yourinstagram ✔ ivandias03 obrigado Vanzinho ❤️

erling.haaland ✔ Mate you must have some serious charm because Y/N is in a whole different league! 😂 Congrats to her on the album!! big respect to her! 🔥

user THEY are everything to me

user2 he's acting like he's not the best CB in the world right now...

userA he's also the best boyfriend 😏 yourinstagram ✔ userA retweeted liked reblogged pinned userB yourinstagram QUEEN YOU ONLY DESERVE THE BEST OF THE BEST!!

mancity ✔ brb going to add the whole album to our game day playlist 🏃🏽‍♂️‍➡️

user3 Long live to the only man that matters: Rúben Dias 😍❤️

user3 he calls her "his angel" someone fucking hold me i'm sobbing

user4 rúben is so supportive and you can tell he really adores her. She deserves it 💖

user5 me adoptan? lavo los platos

user6 fan de su relación 😍

user7 I don't know which one of them is more gorgeous

user8 not to start any drama but Heidi whatchu doing here girl 👀

userA fun fact: her and rúben have been following each other for years userB she's allowed to like posts she likes 🤷‍♀️ userC it's just weird she's liking HIS post about the woman she replaced userD i think u all are reading too much into it. she's a known actress in portugal ofc he's gonna know abt her and he's a footballer in the portuguese nt so ofc she knows him

user9 Do you ever stop and think about how lucky Ruben is? Y/N L/N is an absolutely stunning latina billionaire who is genuinely sweet, hilarious, smart, can dance, speaks various languages, and also happens to be the one of the biggest artists in history. Those Aussies really fumbled the bag.

userA user9 and how lucky y/n is since ruben is a 6’2” professional athlete who happens to be on of the best in his position, took the league by storm, is emotionally very intelligent and absolutely handsome. Why do you guys keep mentioning another man when that relationship ended 1 year ago? let it go elsa userB "Those Aussies really fumbled the bag." What did I do? userC If you ask Ruben, there are no ifs, ands, or buts, SHE’S the prize. He worships her. Most likely he asks himself every day how he managed to snag her. But it is also true that he’s sexy af, sweet, rich, and the best there ever was in what he does. So, yeah, she’s also lucky. user9 All of y’all getting mad about this comment are funny. Of course she’s lucky to have Rúben, too. One glance at my profile will show you I’m a big fan of his. That’s just not what this comment was about. And you know who would agree with me about how lucky Rúben is? RÚBEN.

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APRIL 14, 2023

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yourinstagram Mi gente, did you know 96% of the population here in Coachella is Latino? ✨Pura raza✨This years festival lineup gives me so much hope for more space, opportunity & representation for our Latin communities. Honored to have made it to the main stage this year. There are no words. Agradecida y bendecida. It’ll take me a minute to process all that was these last two weekends. But for now, just… THANK YOU. ✨💖 #Y/NCHELLA

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user1 how did she have a glow up on top of a glow up on top of already being beautiful

oliviarodrigo ✔ Queen of Coachella right there 👑🔥 You did that!

lilnasx ✔ sis you SNAPPED!! You own every stage you step on

manuelturizo ✔ Lo diste todo, reina 🔥🔥 Felicitaciones por ese show tan brutal!!

jbalvin ✔ 💥🔥 Tremendo show, felicidades! ¡Orgullo latino!

user2 i'm sick bc why am i not there

zedd ✔ you brought the heat 🔥

fioamato Coachella just wasn’t ready for that level of slay, babe 🔥🖤

emmachamberlain ✔ The energy, the vibes, the stage presence!! You absolutely smashed it 🌈✨

YOU DID THAT BABY! 🔥🔥 We need to collab soon, for real!!

kaliuchis ✔ Coachella was YOURS! Such a beautiful and powerful performance 💖

luisfonsi ✔ ¡Qué espectáculo! So proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished 🔥

user3 come fa a essere sempre cosi divina

user4 she ate it so bad she’s REALLY an A LIST

user5 Say what you want about her but Miss Y/N can PERFORM!!

lelepons ✔ GIRL you were UNSTOPPABLE up there!! So much love for you!

theestallion ✔ Babe!! That was a SHOWWW!!! You brought the energy 🔥 Love you!

you ATE sis! That performance was wild

user6 O CABELO, A ROUPA, ELA, MEU DEUS QUE MULHER PERFECTA

♥ rubendias ✔ liked this

user7 not to be dramatic but this changed my life

haileesteinfeld ✔ Unstoppable 🔥🔥 You absolutely owned that stage. Congrats, love!!

user8 i am foaming at the mouth

user9 Queen energy all the way! You lit that stage up 💥👏

milliebobbybrown ✔ OMG YOU WERE UNREAL!! So proud of you, babe 💖

postmalone ✔ WILD performance!! You had the crowd going crazy 🔥 Congrats!

user10 i cried 2x, couldn't catch my breath 5x being there was life changing

userA the crowd actually went wild for her userB HER STAGE PRESENCE IS INSANEEEE

user11 She's an icon, she's a legend and she is the moment

user12 can't believe someone fumbled THE Y/N L/N

♥ rubendias ✔ liked this

user13 LOOK AT HER SHE'S IN HER I MADE IT MOMENT

userA Finally she deserves it userB now this is what I want to see at coachella userC she killed it! best performance of the day userD such a baddie

user14 when i tell you it was PACKED of celebs... THIS QUEEN DID THAT AND NOT ONLY ONCE, BUT BOTH WEEKENDS!!!

userA no fr shawn mendes, bad bunny, sabrina carpenter, billie eilish... userB LEWIS WAS THERE TOO!! userC my man was vibing hard throughout her whole set

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APRIL 28, 2023

Y/N L/N ON Heartbreak, Healing, and Reclaiming Her Power | Jay Shetty Podcast

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MAY 7, 2023

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yourinstagram Fast cars, hot nights and Miami lights 🏁🌆

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lilymhe ✔ In Miami the sun isn't the only thing that's blazing

redbullracing ✔ I thought we had something special 😔

yourinstagram ✔ redbullracing sorry, I also thought the same thing once about someone and... yeah 😬 redbullracing ✔ yourinstagram 😳😔💔 landonorris ✔ F in the chat fioamato 🍿🍿👀 userA Y/N 😲 LMAOOOO andrew_allen smh 😦😮‍💨

schecoperez ✔ Espero que hayas pasado genial. Es bueno compartir de nuevo! [⥂ translation: I hope you had a great time. It was good to hang out again!]

user WHEN I SAW HER ON BRUNDLE'S GRID WALK I SCREAMEDDD

userA martin is one of the girls, he also wants the tea lmao i mean asking her "I know you and some of the drivers go way back—anyone here you’re /particularly excited/ to catch up with this weekend?" and making specific emphasis on those words was wilddddd lol

user2 checo what are you doing here mate

landonorris ✔ Can’t believe they let you back in here…Good to see you haven’t forgotten your way around the paddock!

yourinstagram landonorris I just followed the sound of your whining and found my way back 🤷🏽‍♀️ glad to know things haven't changed, landito 😊 userA wtf why is she being rude to him??? userB userA relaxxx they're just joking!!! they actually get along well, they've always pretended to be annoyed by the other it's a running joke 😂

user3 not her posting a merc photo right after red bull posted her on their socials lmao

userA she's said she's a merc girlie userB nah she's a merc girlie by proxy, she's a Hamilton girlie she's said it herself

lewishamilton ✔ nice to have you back sis 💜

user4 so paddock comeback AND a world tour announcement?!? oh she SPOILS us for reaaaaal

user5 Okay, here we go. Focus. Speed. I am speed. One winner, forty-two losers. I eat losers for breakfast. Speed. Faster than fast, quicker than quick. I am Lightning ⚡

userA girl u okay? 👀 user userA i'm saying my affirmations and training my reflexes for when that tickets link drops getcha get my head in the game yk 🫡

user6 checo wants to see the world burn lmao

userA fr fr i can't with the fact that he invited her to the rbr hospitality when daniel and heidi were around the paddock lmao userB i NEED to know if they crossed paths!!! i want all the tea userC some gossip pages say that both parties tried hard not to cross paths, going as far as Y/N going to the hospitality only once the team made sure Daniel OR Heidi weren't there userB yikes that's a little petty innit userA userB if it were u in her shoes would u like to be face to face with ur ex and the girl he changed u for? i'd be even pettier ngl she deserves to be as petty as her heart desires

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MAY 14, 2023

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liked by rubendias, jackgrealish, kristenanniebell and 1,176,164 others

yourinstagram Happy 25th birthday to the man who somehow always knows exactly what to say—whether in his quiet, thoughtful pauses or his easy laughter, that deep, genuine laugh that’s impossible not to join in ❤️

I love the way you watch the world with that quiet, thoughtful gaze, noticing beauty where others might pass it by. I love the way you bring passion to everything you do—from the way you fold your shirts to the way you double-knot your shoes with that focused little frown, how you playfully roll your eyes at my ‘brilliant’ tik tok ideas that never leave my drafts, and always manage to know when I need a hug, even if I won’t say it out loud. I love the way you insist on folding towels just so, even when you know I’ll mess them up again. I cherish how you hum little tunes without realizing it, how you light up talking about home, about your favorite dishes (where you never miss a chance to remind me that bacalhau & arroz de pato are life 🤌🏽), and how you insist on making everything from scratch because, to you, life’s beauty is in the details.

Thank you for being the gentleness in my chaos, the warmth in my winters, for always reminding me to find my own light, and be the love I never saw coming. Thank you for being you ❤️ Here’s to more adventures, more laughter, and more nights cooking by your side.

I miss you!!!! Counting the hours to see you ⏳

Te amo un mundo, mi cielo ❤️‍🔥

tagged: rubendias

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rubendias ✔ God I'm so in love with you. You’re everything ❤️

ivandias03 ❤️

user oh don't mind me, I just got a "Thank you for being the gentleness in my chaos, the warmth in my winters" in my eyes 😭😭😭😭😭

jackgrealish ✔ love u both 💙💙💙

itsvittoriasousa Feliz aniversário, Gato! 🎉 obrigada por fazê-la tão feliz! ☺️

rubendias ✔ itsvittoriasousa Não tens de quê, ela é meu presente mais precioso 😌

user2 wait is she not at Goodison Park? I thought her last story from a plane was to go to Liverpool

userA I don't think so, tomorrow's Chloe & Scotty's wedding in Venice, she must be there userB wow so she'd rather go to a wedding than spent his birthday with him 🙃girlfriend of the year lmao userC userB 1. he has a game today so most likely he'll be focus on that so I don't think he'll have too much time to party tonight and 2. I'm pretty sure they've talked about their plans beforehand and both are happy with it sooo GET LOST!

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MAY 15, 2023

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JUNE 10 - 13, 2023

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✦ MAY'S RADIO: ok ok thoughts? wanna hear all about it, pleasee! 👀 I might've change the album cover and the songlist a thousand times already, and I might've done it again if I didn't post it now. I didn't wanna have too many t-swizzle songs because, well, she exist in this universe, but she's just too relatable ya know?

[zevrra]

could u write a jayce x female or gn reader fic or blurb where the reader has major baby fever or just wants a child in general? I feel like Jayce would make such a good girl dad. idk..this request is pretty stupid but i’ve just been craving Jayce as a dad.

I LUV UR WRITING BTW!! PLS NEVER STOP POSTING! 🤍

a/n: AAAAH this was such a cute idea i couldn’t resist KSHDKH. jayce 100% is a girl dad, you can’t change my mind and i also like to think he’d want a HUGE family too. 😭 thank you so much for the request and im sorry it’s a lil shorter but i hope it makes you giggle and kick your feet at the thought of dad!jayce bc i did KSHSKH i love jayce so much omg

jayce is definitely someone who wants to have a giant family one day. wants to have as many kids, in anyway possible, as his partner will let him. he’d be so sweet talking about how one day he hopes he can show off his kids and give them everything they could ever dream about. his heart is so big and it’s just so cute.

the two of you had been together for a very long time and seeing every child recently made you yearn for your own. so when you mention over dinner one day, wanting to start a family; he’s ecstatic. he’s so happy, staring at you with wide eyes as his face lights up with that stupidly charming smile of his.

“are you serious?” he asks; as if this might be a dream and that you’re lying to him.

“no jayce, i said it just to tease you.” you respond sarcastically. laughing with a shake of your head. you manage a shy glance in his direction as your fingers play with the utensils on the table. “i’ve just been thinking about it recently. seeing all the cute babies around the city during the holidays is just making me…want to start a family.” you add with a smile towards your lover.

who still sits and stares at you with wide eyes. his mouth slightly agape, fangs flashing as his lips curl up in a warm smile. he reaches across the table to grab your hand, his pretty hazel eyes full of love as he brings your hand up to his lips; placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

“it’s your call, my love but i would be honored to start a family with you.” jayce hums sweetly. he plants another kiss against your knuckles before his thumb rubs across the top of your hand, soothingly touching you as he practically looks like he’s on the verge of tears. as if he’s waited for this moment for forever.

always so dramatic and you loved him for it.

“i think you’d make a great dad.” you state in a matter of fact tone, giving his hand a gentle squeeze back.

and truly, jayce would in fact make the best dad. you didn’t have to say it out loud to know it was true either; since he was already the perfect partner. you could easily imagine him with a little girl, protecting her from any harm, playing dress up, pretending to drink tea when he’s offered a plastic cup. he’s so sweet and deserves everything good in the world and you wanted nothing more than to start that next chapter in his and your own life.

[ihavenoideawhatiamdoingjustgay2]

On the first day of Christmas

Genre : Fluff

Summary : Arlecchino and you celebrating Christmas.

Notes : Arlecchino x reader, Christmas fluff, domestic fluff, fluff, yeah lots of fluff, I published this on AO3 while I church, I had this idea only yesterday so sorry for any mistakes, will probably come back and edit later

Chapter 1 > Chapter 2 > Chapter 3

Take me to AO3

You wiped the window clean, looking at your reflection, before focusing your eyes upon the decorations outside, the shining ligths, the carriages that were driven.

You had expected nothing less from the country of snow and ice.

You sighed, turning your ring around your finger, a small red X was engraved on it. Your Husband had a matching one. Your husband who sneaked up on your side with a hand on your waist. You smiled, watching as your wolf hid in the crock of your neck.

"Hello there."

She muffled something into your neck.

"Yeah, probably, the children must be waiting for us."

She kissed it, before standing up straigth and watching the scene outside pass by.

"Looking at the ligths, love?"

"Of course, I simply can't help it." You shrug.

"Ever the sentimentalist. That's a weakness, you know?" She gave you a quick peck on the cheek, before moving towards the closet. You meanwhile were busy watching a set of coralers knock on the neighbors door, it did not take long untill their door was opened and a few coins landed inside a hat. Faint singing reached your ears, or maybe it was just imagination, like the dream like clouds that surrounded them. Like the green and red ribbons that were hanging everywhere.

"Well, you're the only one who knows it, so, unless you wish to use it against me."

"Perhabs I will." she held your coat out and you took the offer, slipping your arms inside it. You adjusted it a bit as Arlecchino buttoned it up and you helped her in turn.

"What a cruel husband you are~" you coed, but only earned a "Tch" and eyeroll from her side. She still needed to get used to your antics. Even after all those years.

Arlecchino led you down, towards the big wooden doors, to the decorative pine tree that stood rigth next to the door. You looked it up and down, it was lazy compared to the one in the orphanage that stood uprigth and proud with self made little Christmas tree balls and other ornaments. You stared upon one of them, a dull face greeted you as Arlecchino talked to one of the servants. You wouldn't be really home for the next day, only for sleep, and she'd be gone for the half of the third day. You leaned upon her shoulder, nitpicking some fluff from her coat. You barely noticed the click of the door opening, would gave ignored it completely if it wasn't for the fristy cold that hit your face.

"Can't we take a carriage?" You pouted, clinging onto her.

"It is faster when we walk."

You continued pouting.

"I will keep you warm." She promised and you already felt her warm hand through the thick of your coat. You melted onto her, resting in the warmth of her body.

"How lucky am I, to have my own personal furnace."

She chuckled. "Odd choice for a pet name, but I suppose it's better than just calling me an icicle."

You shrugged, listening to how horses and carriages made their way through the salted streets, listening to the far laughs of drunks, the smell of mulled whine.

"Can we make a small stop at the Christmas market?"

She grumbled.

"I just want to fill my pockets with sweets for the children."

"I don't know." She said, pushing you two to your rigth as muddy water was about to be sprayed onto you, but she took most of it. The driver stopped and decided to make a spectacel out of it. Arlecchino stared at him as if he was an insect, but waved him off. She continued your path, stopping in front of the market.

"I love you, you know that?"

She smiled at your small confession. "Of course, I love you too."

Her love for you was an open secret.

Oh look, oh everyone look,

The Knave has found her spouse,

And oh how much she loves them.

That's what they'd whisper.

You pecked her cheek, leading her into the Christmas market. She was frowning about it, but she had no choice but to follow you.

"I will admit, the cover is great, considering all the people, and we are most likely not the only important ones here." She started while you stopped at a stand, buying a few of the sweets and stuffing them carefully inside your pockets.

"Exactly." You took her arm back, having her lead you through the market, pulling you away from any distractions.

"Don't you think that hat would be great on Louis?"

"He already has a Christmas gift." she'd say and you'd sigh.

You sighed even louder when the two of you left the market and with it all of the eliciting smells and attractive prices. "The world is unfair."

"You act like a child sometimes." she commented, rubbing your side. You sighed again.

"Is that the only thing I will get from you for now?"

You shrugged.

"My impossible spouse." she'd mumble, but there was no real bite, no destain in her voice.

"Your impossible spouse." You agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cold was replaced by a warm feeling that enveloped you, seeping into your bones, deep under the fur of your coat that you were taking off. The door clicked behind you and Arlechino pulled the sleeves of your arms, hanging it onto a clothing rack together with hers.

The big ligth wasn't on, instead there were candles scattered all over the place.

"Your courtesy?" You ask with a grin, interlocking your arms.

"No. I wouldn't create a firehazard."

You snickered, looking around, finding...no one. "It's so empty..."

"And silence." There was alert in your husband's voice as she dragged you to the huge door marking the living room, you meanwhile listened to hushed voices and stopped her, listening in closer, as it all fell silent, it made you grin.

"What is it?"

"It appears the children have a suprise for us."

She crocked a brow and your grin widened, which made her role her eyes to then push the large door open. You recognizes the Christmas tree touching the ceiling, the warm fairy ligths spun around it intricately, the cookie ornaments. It made your heart swell up. And then you saw the children's choir in front of the fireplace. You leaned upon your husband's shoulder, listening as they sung.

"Have they done this before?" You whispered, not being able to tear your eyes away from them, your ears away from their voices.

Arlecchino leaned down. "Once, a few years back, you were back in Fontaine, remember?"

You hummed, before nodding.

"I'm honestly impressed they were able to set it up withouth us noticing." She mumbled and you could her her knitted brows and pinched eyes. She was impressed, probably trying to figure out how they did it. Your eyes grazed over them, admiring untill they stood still like stone pillars, awaiting judgment. You looked at Arlecchino. "We are impressed, aren't we Arle?"

She nodded, her eyes lingering on you for a second before swooping towards the children. "Indeed we are."

They smiled, chattering, congratulating, or running towards you for a hug.

Arlecchino had it run its course before clapping her hands. Everyone's eyes were on her, she who was standing in front of the tree, the glow surrounding her, the image made you blush and tuck your hair back.

"Since you have already eaten, how about opening the presents?"

You saw the glimmer in their eyes, heared their cheers, before they huried towards the tree and stood in a line to get their handed by Arlecchino, or you. This would certainly be an evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat on the sofa, food on your rigth and husband to your left with children playing before your feet, showing of their games, sorting through clothes, polishing new weapons.

"Are you sure that a new set of knives was a great idea for El?"

"Of course. She's quite handy with them and obviously happy."

You nodded, slowly, watching her sort through them with a content smile on her face. "You are rigth." Her hand stroked your waist and she kissed your cheek, you leaned into her. Everything went well, for today atleast.

"Now it's work Chrismas tommorow and then...only us."

You kissed her cheek. "I can't wait for it."

[pinkgrapefloyd]

Anti-Hero finally has a sequel! ✨

Ruin My Life

by pinkgrapefloyd

Johnny has no idea how to plan a proposal – especially one that Daniel will actually say yes to. Fortunately, he has a ragtag team of teenaged wannabe relationship experts standing by. But between Miguel’s sense of romance, Robby’s identity crisis, Sam’s blossoming boldness and Tory’s eagerness to prove herself, it’s anyone’s guess how that will turn out. 

relationships: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence, Sam LaRusso/Tory Nichols, Robby Keene/Miguel Diaz

length: 5k so far (will probably end up around 100k in total)

rating: Explicit

additional tags: #the problematic codependent karate gang in all their lovable three-dimensional glory, #established relationship, #marriage proposal, #fluff, #humor, #angst, #hijinks & shenanigans, #implied/referenced sexual harassment, #internalized homophobia, #kiaz, #samtory, #e rating for the lawrusso chapters, #porn with feelings 

I love this fic so much and I hope I get more time to work on it in the new year. So happy to have you along for the ride again!

[laniemae]

Out of the closet

I absolutely cannot get my mind off of Hiroaki coming out as gay so I had to draw this.

Analysis under cut

I have to much to think about this whole scene of Hiroaki coming out of the closet. Starting to think about it, you really come to understand just how important him being gay and closeted is to his character and backstory, especially being a celebrity in Japan.

At first when Hiroaki first admitted he liked guys I was absolutely over the moon, and frankly I still am but it became apparent quickly just how devastating the scene actually was on Hiroaki’s side. It’s clear that Hiroaki felt pressured to come out of the closet like that from how the conversation with Yanagi was escalating. With Yanagi accusing Hiroaki hooking up and dropping out of relationships with all these women for no reason and Hiroaki forcing to admit that the reason things were like that was because he’s gay. He was backed into a corner and forced to come out, even if that wasn’t Yanagi’s intention. Thankfully Yanagi was supportive and understand but Hiroaki’s first time coming out of the closet being in a way like this must’ve been really scary for him, and especially how he broke down crying at the end of the conversation. Because even if he was accepted in this one situation, the feeling of panic and having to admit a personal violation which if he was outside the killing game, would’ve stemmed the end for him, would’ve been incredibly traumatic.

Hiroaki is a celebrity, so the pressure to hide his homosexuality would’ve been even more intense than the average person. Due to the nature of homophobia in Japan, his job very much could’ve been on the line with him forcing to hide being gay. His management team has created out this image for him of him being a ladies man and womaniser constantly hooking him up with relationships with other popular girls. And Hiroaki only adheres to them from the idea of getting popular through followers and stuff. And I can definitely imagine that through hooking up and even sleeping with all these women he’s desperately trying to convince himself that he’s not gay and that it’ll pass in time. Even bragging to Yanagi over all these sexual relations he’s had with over ten women to keep up his image, even though he doesn’t truly care about it because he’s not into women, and never truly loved any of them. And it was only for appearances and PR. And maybe even during that time there could’ve been some rumours of him being gay circulating which could’ve furthered this.

I can’t imagine how uncomfortable it would’ve been for Hiroaki to live a comphet life ike this and Yanagi put this very well. Hiroaki wasn’t born into riches and had to work extremely hard to become the multi millionaire that he is and having the risk of losing all of that over people finding out that he’s gay, I could imagine how scary that would’ve been for him. And why he accepted to doing all this stuff. And in the end when he confessed to Yanagi that he likes guys instead of women, it was probably also him admitting it to himself in a way. That this is a major step in Hiroaki’s arc that has been stemming back for years in his life when he started to realise it.

All of this makes me think back to Hiroaki’s student spotlight near the beginning of chapter 2. Looking back to how he freaked out so much about those questions asking about his relationship with Ojima makes so much sense in retrospect now, knowing that he’s a closeted homosexual. And even though the questions asked weren’t directly related to a potential romantic connection with Ojima he still interpreted it as an accusation and got very defensive and aggressive. Even telling the original asker to get a life and friends. From how much he’s had to hide this part about himself and Hiroaki’s attitude of lashing out at people who get too close to or annoy him, especially in chapter 1. He probably got very uncomfortable and defensive here. And it makes me think if he’s ever been accused like this in his personal life. And how distressing it must be to him of the idea of people looking into his life and making accusations like this which could potentially ruin his career and an to an extent, his life.

So all of this and Hiroaki coming out as gay, I feel like it’s very safe to assume now that he has a crush on/is in love with Ojima. Even though I feel that people are making Hiroaki’s coming out scene more about hirojima then how personal it is to his story, it’s definitely something worth talking about. Hiroaki said that he did know for a few years by know that he liked guys, and due to his high standing as a celebrity and especially in Japan where being queer is still heavily stigmatised in society, he never got to properly be true to himself. And now in the killing game where he’s completely separated from the outside world and trapped with 15 other students who didn’t know him. Perhaps that could be a reason why he was acting more overly affectionate with Ojima if he had less of a worry of public perception, but I don’t know, that’s just speculation. And even from the initial interview at the beginning of the series him showing interest in him. And how over time we’ve seen Hiroaki and Ojima truly develop a strong mutual bond and with the very high likelihood that Hiroaki has fallen in love with him, all the ways this could go is so interesting. This is likely the first time Hiroaki has truly fallen in love with someone which isn’t just some PR stunt. And how with Ojima genuinely caring about Hiroaki and being supportive to him in his lowest of times and is actually able to see him for who he is. He’s one of the rare instances Hiroaki has had a figure in his life who isn’t toxic or has a part in upholding his image and covering up his true self. I can definitely see the possibility of Hiroaki actually confessing to Ojima happen some time, or even then becoming a romantic couple. And something like that would be a huge step in both of their arcs especially with Hiroaki coming to terms with his sexuality after a life of lies. And that’s where I would normally talk about Ojima’s story leading up to this as well, but that’s an analysis for another time.

So yeah that’s my thoughts on this reveal and why I love how big of a personal moment it is for Hiroaki. Exploring a specific story of coming to terms with homosexuality in an unforgiving celebrity industry where one has to try so hard to hide it is such an incredibly interesting narrative and by this one confirmation of him being gay, recontextualises so much of Hiroaki’s story and lots of things starting to make a lot more sense now. And I truly cannot wait to see what the future will hold for this narrative.

(Apparently this post isn’t showing up if I put too many tags so here’s my extra thoughts on it Oop)

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

the tortured poets department

Bonus Chapter

Info Post

Moodboards

Part I

Prev Part <> Next Part

Contains/TWs: a flashback essentially of reader and ellie whenever they were at the psychiatric hospital/wellness retreat together, the sweetest most gentle and soft ellie of all time. HELLLLAAAAA angst like next level angst. discussions of mental illness, hospitals/psychiatric facilities, and mentions of s**cide, sh/scars from sh. (this is not meant to romanticize psychiatric hospitals/care, mental illness s**cide or sh in any way. if you or someone you know is struggling please reach out. you are loved 💛)

WC: 2.5k

A/N: merry christmas eeeeve!! oh my ellie girls- did i ever cook for you 💛

Bonus

gold rush

I think the first time we actually talked was during one of the first nightmares. I hadn’t grown used to the big unbreakable windows or the heavy hospital beds and the idea of having a roommate who saw every one of my little quirks made it even worse. In fact I was even convinced she hated me after a while. She had tried so many times to be friends and I had blown her off every time. Why wouldn’t she?

It was in the middle of the night, one of the few nights I had actually gotten myself to fall asleep in which was promptly ruined. I don’t even know what had alerted her at first, she was such a light sleeper it could’ve been something as small as the change in my breathing. At any rate though before I could fall too deep into the hole I felt the grip of someone’s hand on my upper arm giving me a firm shake awake.

My vision was already so blurry because of the lack of glasses and the tears didn’t help. My breathing came out sharp and fast as I lifted my hands to roughly wipe at them. “No, hey, stop, don’t do that.” Ellie spoke as she passed off my glasses where I promptly slid them onto my eyes with shaking hands. And whenever I couldn’t find anything to wipe the tears away with she chose her sleeve, yanking it down far past her hand and pressing the fabric underneath my eyes until they coated it.

Normally, I would’ve pulled away. I would’ve scrambled and begged her not to. But the fact that for once someone besides my sister wasn’t looking at me like there was something wrong with me… I guess you could’ve called it an early stage trauma bond. Because all it did was pull me towards her. My hand was flying to hers before I know it, wrapping around her wrist as if to hold it into place.

I let out a tiny gasp in embarrassment, shaking my head to unravel my fingers as I stammered out an anxious apology. “I’m- I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay.” She spoke, the corners of her lips upturning in a weak smile as she inched herself closer. “The first week is usually the hardest. And you get pretty touch starved at some point so… you’re okay. I-I probably need it just as much as you do.”

I sniffled as I nodded, still trying to regulate my breathing as I pushed myself up to a sitting position, still desperately clutching at her arm with a trembling hand like she was the only thing I had left to hold on to. “How did you make it to England?” I whispered, subconsciously scooting aside so she could take a seat on the bed next to me, her shoulder just slightly brushing mine.

“Turns out whenever the US Army really fucks you up, they’re willing to shell out a shit ton of money to send you to the best mental health facilities in other countries to hopefully fix it.”

“Geez…” I muttered underneath my breath as I hugged my knees to my chest. “So you’re like, proper scarred then?”

I wasn’t expecting the massive laugh to burst from her lungs next, almost needing to slap a hand over her in order to not alert any of the nurses probably more than we already had. “You could say that.” She answered, resting her back against the wall before giving my arm the smallest of nudges. “What about you? What are you in for?”

“My parents… really just don’t know how to accept the fact that I’m… different. So they’ve stuck me in here hoping to find some kind of ‘cure’ I guess.” I shrugged, arms hugged around my knees. “Turns out just being extremely neurodivergent isn’t enough to fit the criteria of being put in a long term residential psychiatric care facility though so-”

“Oh yeah? Tried to check out too early too, huh?”

“Wow, it’s like you know me already.” I added with another tearful chuckle, Ellie already pulling at her sleeve to catch the strays before they could roll down my cheeks.

“I do know you.” She added, her tone shifting in a slightly more serious though still gentle tone. “I am you.”

For some reason the words brought forth another shuddering sob. A level of understanding I hadn’t seen in anyone else before, not even my sister. “C’mere.” I heard her whisper, pulling away her already halfway up short hair as she extended her arms out to me like we had known each other for years. The sound of my sob was muffled by her hoodie as she pulled me in, my face hidden in her chest as I let the broken cries finally escape.

It sounded so stupid, but I had tried my hardest not to cry while I was here. I thought if I acted like it enough maybe, finally, magically I’d become stable enough to not have to be here and it could even translate to my life outside. Turns out it didn’t work that way. Ellie brought out a new side of that though, she made me feel like it was okay to cry. And she’d be there every single time. Brushing away my tears or letting me hide my face in her shoulder or her chest until I didn’t have any left to cry.

“From now on… you’ve got me and I’ve got you, deal? So no more trying to check out too early, okay?” I wiped at my eyes with a gross sniffle, and whenever I pried myself from her hoodie I could see her staring at me with an expectant gaze and a lifted pinky finger. It was hard to say no to with that dorky little smile on her face. It was hard to say no to also whenever I knew she had been through so so much worse.

I nodded, weakly, but hoping it was enough enthusiasm for her as I wrapped my pinky around hers and feeling her give them the tiniest squeeze. “Perfect, now I’m never gonna leave you alone, squirt.”

The nickname brought out a tearful laugh from me, and I realized I couldn’t exactly remember the last time I had ever truthfully laughed as she tossed her arms back around me and decorated the top of my head in a dozen kisses. Whenever the nurse came at the usual 5 am to check vitals I distinctly remembered being curled up to her chest like she was my own personal pillow, dozed off to the sound of her breathing.

I knew it was an intense friendship, I knew it could’ve signified more. And honestly maybe that’s what I was afraid of. Growing so close to somebody only to have it brutally taken away from you by nothing more than the complication of love.

~

The wellness retreat we were at prided itself on trying to be just that, a retreat. They put a big emphasis on the great outdoors, courtyards and swimming pools and gardens, including a significant amount of grounds for us to go on walking trails. Ellie, I think, was determined to explore every inch of them before she got out and judging by both of our appointments we’d have the time too. So it was no surprise we frequently found ourselves on one, conjoined hands swinging back and forth like careless middle schoolers wanting to show off their very first relationship until Ellie’s long legs and curiosity got the better of her and she ended up trotting forward. She was after all exceedingly more fit than me.

“So, I don’t mean to pry or anything.” She spoke up after a moment of silence masked by our lazy footsteps.

“That’s never stopped you before.” I giggled before breaking out into a skip to catch up with her.

“Ha ha… very funny.” She snickered with a roll of her eyes. “So, I think I already know the answer to this but- it’s pride month, so humor me? Your sister’s an absolute fruit basket, right?”

I burst into laughter at her words before shrugging in response. “I mean, that’s certainly one way to put it.”

“So… what’s the likelihood your parents ended up with two gay daughters?” She wondered as she held up the number on her fingers.

A tiny smile stretched on my lips at the question, no sign of offense in sight from my end as I slipped my hand around the crook of her elbow. “I’d say… pretty likely.”

“Wicked.” She grinned a bit to herself as she rose her arm ever so slightly as if she was a gentleman escorting me to a fancy event. I chuckled once more at her old school slang, catching my bottom lip in between my teeth as if to avoid smiling even harder.

I released a sigh of relief the moment we approached a clearing enveloped perfectly with its high trees. “Can we stop for a second? I’m totally roasting out here.” I huffed as I trudged forward to find a comfortable seat and slip the psych issued backpack off of my back.

“It’s because you’re always wearing those flannels and long sleeves… even outside. No wonder you’re burning up.” Her voice noticeably got softer as she stepped up behind me with a soft hand on my back. “Why do you do that, by the way?” She questioned, gently slipping her hands up my covered arms to the elbows nearly making me tremble.

“You- You know why.” I mumbled, feeling our bodies naturally inch closer until I pressed my hands to her chest.

“No I know why I guess I just… don’t really know why you wear them here, you know? And around me? I-I mean we all have scars.” She wondered, her careful hands sliding around my back. Somehow despite all of our previous touches and general antics and even falling asleep in the same bed it felt as if this was the most intimate we had ever gotten. Stood like two high schoolers at a dance who had no idea what they were doing, yet everything at the same time.

“I guess I just- I never wanted to bother anybody else. Especially you. They’re- They’re not pretty, and they hurt and- I don’t know.”

Ellie let one of her hands encircle around my forearm against her chest where one of my hands held onto her shoulder. On instinct I tensed up, expecting the worst, expecting the judgemental eyes of doctors and the saddened ones of nurses. “I think scars are a sign of strength- of bravery.” She spoke, gently turning my wrist until the scars were pointed upwards where she gradually rolled my sleeve.

“Your’s are maybe. Mine aren’t brave. H-Hurting yourself isn’t brave.”

Ellie’s brushed a tender thumb along the raised skin, the healed markers of stitches. Normally the touches would’ve caused the slightest sting or even a throb. Healed enough to have faded ever so slightly but not enough to have stopped the pain entirely. Ellie’s touch was so gentle though, so careful and delicate. “Surviving through it is though.” My eyebrows knitted together as a waterfall of tears burned behind my eyes.

“That doesn’t mean do it again-“ she ordered as she held up a stern finger with her free hand. “But… just don’t be ashamed either, you know?” Ellie caught a stray tear with her thumb just before carefully lifting my scarred arm until she could brush her lips against it. Placing delicate featherlike kisses against every little wound.

“Thank you.” I sniffled, a soft sob catching in the back of my throat just as I felt her pulling me in, my face muffled in the crook of her shoulder as she wrapped a strong arm around me. “I think you might just be the sun.”

“Darling…” I could feel her shaking her head from just above me as she still held my wrist with such care. “I’m far from the sun. I’m just a girl who… who really really cares about another girl.”

It almost felt like a declaration of some sort, my eyes flickering upwards to meet her softened green eyes, her star-like freckles that I could trace like constellations, down to her curved lips. Maybe I was hallucinating and delusional, looking back on it I probably was. A one-sided magnetic pull towards her perfectly pink lips. So why did she seem to get closer too? Why did she wrap her arms around my waist to pull me in? Why did she let my hand caress her face in the way it did? Why why why why?

At the last second I felt her lips shifting, pressing softly to my cheek instead of my own and I could nearly feel my heart shatter right then and there. “Baby, I can’t do this to you.” She whispered with a shake of her head, the step backwards only sending me reeling as I fought the urge to dive after her.

“But I- I thought-“

“I know- I know but- fuck, please don’t cry, Millie, I’m sorry.” Ellie didn’t cry often, so whenever she did it was a big deal. But in that moment I could see the tears welling up in her own eyes as she drew back to me so quickly I nearly lost balance. “I can’t- I-I can’t give you your first kiss in here. We- We can’t do this, Millie. I love you s-so fucking endlessly but I- y-you deserve to have your first kiss be from somebody special and somewhere romantic and… not with me.” She sighed a bit to herself, clenching her hands at her sides as if it killed her to say any of this.

“I just can’t give you what you need i-in that sense right now and I- I hate myself for it and I feel like I’ve screwed up the most important and precious thing in my life because of it but… I can’t lie to you. I just can’t.” A weak sob fell from her lips as she let her hands fly to her eyes as if it’d somehow hide all the evidence.

If she were a selfish woman she would’ve gone through with it. She would’ve pushed her lips to mine and held on for dear life and maybe it would’ve gone farther. But she wasn’t selfish. In fact she was probably the most overwhelmingly selfless person I had ever met.

“Ellie, love.” I gulped back my own tears as I stepped forward to take her body into my own arms, lifting up onto my tiptoes so she could nuzzle her face into my own shoulder. “I’m not mad at you. You didn’t screw anything up. You could never screw this up.”

Ellie’s arms squeezed around my waist as she let her tears soak into the crook of my neck with a shuddering sob. “You are the only good thing that has ever happened to me.”

“And you’re still the sun.” I spoke softly, inching away only to cup her freckled face in my hand and press my forehead to hers. “You saved me. So you’re my sun.”

[lostfracturess]

merry christmas, everyone ! whether you celebrate or not, i need you all to know just how much you mean to me. thank you for being here, for filling my notifications with the sweetest messages, and for making this chaotic little corner of tumblr feel like home.

writing has been a wild ride (to say the least), but having you all here has truly been one of the highlights of my year. exactly one year ago today, i nervously hit "post" on the first chapter of symptoms and causes. i had no idea then that this story would become what it is, or that these characters would find their way into so many hearts.

your theories, your reactions and your involvement with these messy characters made every single moment of writing so much fun. thank you for riding this emotional rollercoaster with me, for celebrating every high and crying through every low.

whether you're a silent reader or someone who keysmashes in my inbox at 3am, you've made this space so incredibly special. i hope today brings you lots of warmth, good company, and reasons to smile.

here's to all your wishes coming true in the new year (and maybe finding a certain white-haired sorcerer under your christmas tree). sending you the biggest, squishiest hugs and all my love <3