#a kind of 'if you can't beat them‚ join them'

[harkness-girl]

a quiet little thing - III

Pairing: AgathaRio x fem!reader

Plot: A dinner invitation, gay panic and hot women.

Warnings: slowburn, eventual smut, praise kink, additional warnings to be added

~ Previous part

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Next time you see them you can't even look in their eyes. It's worse than before, because your dreams have got creative. It's not only about the whispered words containing "little thing" and "pretty girl" said in Agatha's low sultry voice or Rio's winks and her ability to throw you off guard by her soft but still kind of predatory way of watching. No, in the dreams you're kneeling and Rio is standing behind you, you can hear her quietly humming as her hand comes up from behind and forces your chin up. Standing before you is Agatha who always asks you in the dream "are you going to be a good girl for us?" and no matter how many times you desperately nod or even resolve to begging, the dreams always end there.

And you always wake up embarassingly wet, sometimes already touching yourself still half asleep.

If the way you behave around them gets even clumsier and involves your cheeks turning a higher level of red than before, they don't notice. Or maybe they do, but they don't say anything which you're grateful for.

"We were thinking," Agatha says during one of your not really breaks, where you still find time to sit with them, but you have to fold napkins, hoping you're doing somewhat good job, since Agatha and Rio are sitting across from you, watching you and you can't stop your hands from slightly shaking.

"Hm?" you raise your eyes questioningly.

"We're having dinner on Friday," she continues.

"And we would like you to join us," Rio adds.

There is a moment of silence. Meeting outside the walls of the cafe seems like something you might not be ready for, but there is only one way to find out.

"If you want," Agatha smiles softly and you hate to see the flicker of doubt in her eyes.

"Yes," you get out a little too eagerly. "Yes, I'd like that."

They smile in tandem and your heart beats a little faster than before and you return the smile, hoping it shows them how much you would actually like that.

~~~

You don't have enough time to pick an outfit and you curse at yourself for not planning ahead. Work has been hell and there is only so many angry customers and so many messed up orders your already pretty fucked up mind can take before it starts shutting down, but you really want to see them, even though you almost fell asleep on the bus home and you were this close to cancelling.

You end up wearing black jeans and dark blue blouse that you hope makes you look more alive than you actually feel.

When you arrive, they're already waiting, dressed like a Vogue cover come to life and you, once again, feel more like a pet they got in a shelter than a girl they met in a bar.

Don't think about being their pet, don't think about being their pet, you mumble to yourself when you make the way to their table, taking in their casual business outfits. Rio is dressed in a black jumpsuit, her arms exposed and her tattoo visible again, while Agatha is wearing long dress the color of red wine and you're really hope it's gay panic and not heart attack that's taking over your heart function.

Dinner is relaxed, at first. They ask you about your day, you complain about the customers, and Rio tells you about her garden and how she finally figured out what her new plant needed to thrive.

"You have a lot of plants?" you ask, your eyes widening with interest.

Rio nods. "A lot."

"A lot is an undestatement," Agatha mumbles into her glass of wine.

"I could show you sometimes, if you'd like," Rio offers and your brain focuses on the clear invitation to their house and your cheeks burn before you can even process it.

You nod eagerly and rest your chin on your palm, hoping to cover up the blush.

"Still shy for us?" Rio says as she tops off your wine.

For them two? Always.

Agatha leans in with a small smirk playing on her lips. "You were so brave when you walked up to me. Where did that girl go?"

You mutter something about nerves and tequila and you don't miss the glance they exchange. You really wish they would stop bringing up the bar meeting, but you feel like for them it's an important part of the puzzle.

"You're cute when you squirm," Rio says and your brain short-circuits.

Agatha leans in again and this time she brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "Such a lovely thing."

You nearly knock over your glass.

And they seem to love it.

They don't touch you beyond the occasional brush of fingers, the lean-in to whisper something that sets your ears on fire, but the tension rolls off you and off them in waves and shyness be damned, you want more of it.

~~~

The night is warm as you step out of the restaurant, but you feel warmer - half from the wine, half from the way Agatha's hand rests lightly on the small of your back as she walks beside you.

Rio leads the way, checking her phone briefly before glancing back with a small smile.

"There's a place just around the corner," she says. "Quieter than here. Fewer people. If we don't want the night to end..."

You don't want the night to end so you nod and they each take one of your elbows like it's the most natural thing in the world.

The bar is small, dim lights and velvet-lined booths, quiet jazz music playing from the speakers. Rio sposts a booth in the very back and heads toward it. You start to slide into the side opposite them, trying to give yourself a little space to breathe and them their space, but Agatha catches your wrist gently.

"No, no," she says, voice low and warm. "You sit here."

Between them.

You hesitate, but there's already that tug again, the gentle pressure of Agatha's hand guiding you, Rio's eyes already on you like they're waiting to see whether you'll follow their lead.

You do.

As soon as you're settled, you feel Agatha's hand lightly rest on your knee and Rio shifts closer so your shoulders are touching. You're overwhelmed by the proximity and you feel yourself shrinking, but, as you realize, not in a bad way.

They order drinks for all of you without asking and you're grateful. You don't think you could make a decision now if your life depended on it.

Rio turns to you and gently taps your chin, making you look up. "You okay, darling?"

You duck your head back down, cheeks burning. "You're both very..."

"Very what?" Agatha asks and her hand drifts slightly higher up your leg, fingers tracing lazy shapes against the fabric of your jeans.

"Intense," you say, barely above a whisper.

Rio hums, amused. "You didn't seem so shy about it in the bar."

You let out a small whine and try to ignore the way Rio's eyes darken. "I was drunk."

Agatha leans in, lips close to your ear. "What a dangerous little drunk you are."

You shiver and your eyes flutter closed. A small sound escapes your throat, much like your previous whine, but more of a whimper this time.

You feel them both go still.

Then Rio exhales sharply. "God, you're going to drive us crazy."

Your eyes snap up, wide and disbelieving. "Me?"

Agatha's fingers trail back down your thigh slow, deliberately. "Yes, you."

"You're so soft," Rio murmurs, her hand again brushing your jaw, tilting your face toward her. "So sweet and quiet now. It's like a spell."

"You're perfect," Agatha says simply, not smiling for once, just watching you with steady, open affection. "We don't say things we don't mean."

You try to look away, but Rio doesn't let go of your chin.

"You're really lovely when you blush. You get all quiet and small between us."

Your heart beats like it's trying to escape your chest and you feel like there is something inside you that is unfolding in slow motion and you swear you hear a soft "click" somewhere in the back of your mind, as the puzzle was complete.

"I've never..." You pause, not sure how to finish that sentence, how to put the feelings into words.

Rio doesn't make you. "That's all right. You don't need to say anything. We're good at reading signs."

Agatha's lips barely graze your temple. "And we're very patient."

You exhale, shakily.

They don't move away from you. You're cocooned between them, floating in warmth and tension and wanting. You want to stay right where you are, in this quiet safe world where nothing exists except their eyes on you and the way your body responds to every word they say.

And when Rio's fingers slip into yours under the table, you don't hesitate. You hold on.

~~~

The emotional turmoil you've been in the whole day and the glasses of wine you've drank start taking their toll on you and you being to drift.

Agatha is saying something to Rio in a low, amused tone, but it comes to you all muffled and distant and your head tips slightly to one side and you realize your eyes aren't open.

You try to straighten up again, embarassed, but Rio's arm comes up around your back, holding you against heir side.

"Don't," she says softly, brushing her fingers through your hair. "You're tired."

"I didn't mean to-"

Agatha's hand is suddenly there too, stroking the inside of your arm. "You've been working all day, haven't you?"

You nod slowly, eyes half-closed.

"You didn't even finish your drink," Rio murmurs with a smile. "Poor little thing's falling apart."

The words slide over you like silk, but instead of flustering, they calm something inside you. You feel safe here, pressed between them.

"Come one," Agatha says gently. "Let us take you home."

"I can get an Uber," you mumble.

"We know," Rio whispers into your hair. "But we'd rather make sure you get there safe."

You mean to argue, you really do, but then Agatha is grabbing you by waist and Rio is pulling her card out to pay and somehow, without ever saying yes, you're in the backseat of a car, leaning on Agatha now, Rio on the other side, her hand warm and steady on your thigh.

Too late you realize that you’ve never given them your address and the car is moving into a direction of a neighbourhood that’s definitely too fancy for someone working as a barista in a cafe.

“You said home,” you mumble.

Agatha glanced down at you. “Ours. Just for the night. So you can sleep somewhere safe. We’ll bring you back in the morning.”

You should probably protest, but instead you nod against Agatha’s collarbone, sinking into hers side as if your body has known hers for a long time.

~~~

Their house is quiet, but welcoming, although you don’t really have energy to look around and take everything in. All you can feel is the soft rug under your bare feet and notice that everything smells so nice, like cedar wood and patchouli.

Rio presses a glass of water into your hand while Agatha disappears down the hall.

“Drink, you’ll thank me tomorrow,” she says.

When Agatha reappears, she’s carrying a soft oversized T-shirt and a pair of shorts along with a clean toothbrush. You’re shown to the bathroom in the guest room while they go prepare for the night. You’re kind of sad that they didn’t say goodnight and you ponder about it while changing and brushing your teeth.

You step out and feel too cold in the room, something is missing and you know exactly what. You convince yourself it’s only polite to say good night so you step out to the hallway and follow the light to the room with door open. Well, if that’s not an invitation…

Once you peak inside, you see them already in bed, king sized, duvet thrown back. They both smile at you, as if pleased by your appearance as if you made a choice between sleeping in the guest room or joining them, which you kind of did, but your brain is too tired to analyze that.

Rio lifts the covers and pats the space between them.

You hesitate for a second, looking at their beautiful make up less faces, and then you crawl in.

There’s no talk. No tension. Just two warm bodies curling around you as you settle down between them. Rio’s arm loops around your waist while Agatha’s hand finds your hair. You let out a shaky breath and you feel your whole body beginning to melt.

“You’re so sweet when you let go,” Agatha whispers in your ear and presses a kiss to your temple.

And with that, you’re asleep.

~~~

taglist: @w4ndsversew0nder@babyharkness@wifeofmanymilfs @htinha157

[serpentface]

how well do the main whitecalf cast members dance?

YAY relevant rough sketch of Palo and Tigran having a moment of levity late in the game with a group dance

Tigran is a VERY good dancer and loves to do it. He's a near-complete natural (learned some priestly dances as a teenager but was already quite good at it as a child). He has excellent rhythm and can move Shockingly fast. Loves to show it off. Will be like "hey start clapping rhythmically and look what I can do" and just go off to whatever he's given. First time he did that on Palo, he tried to mess with Tigran by giving him the most fucked up beat he could and he managed to make it look good. There was a local variant of broader group folk-dance style (no name for it yet) that he only ever saw performed around the north Briya river where he was born, and he's very enthusiastic about teaching it to other people (that's what he and Palo are doing in that drawing).

Palo is pretty average but thinks he's worse than he is; is kind of under the impression he's too gangly to perform well. The majority of Wardi dances revolve around footwork and he Does struggle with attempting the faster ones, he has a very good sense of rhythm in theory but can't quite get his feet to cooperate. He came from a Big family (five siblings, a bunch of cousins by blood and marriage) and has been to a lot of weddings as such. ALWAYS had to be coaxed into joining in the dancing parts but Usually ends up enjoying himself and not wanting to stop so long as the atmosphere is good.

Couya isn't outstanding, but is better than people tend to expect given her demeanor is utterly graceless. She's strong at the martial dances that are part of her job and is taking them SUPER seriously in most cases so it tends to look imposing, as it's supposed to. She usually refuses to do any dancing that's just like, for fun. If you try to coax her she'll be like 'I'm not being shy it just looks kinda stupid idk what to tell you man......'

Janeys is a very good dancer. As a little kid he had a phase where he wanted to be a dancer as a job, (then refined it to bull-dancer, then switched tacts entirely to chariot racer). Had a little formal training (most aristocrat boys do) and took to it very well. It's one of few things he is not only Adequate/competent at but like, distinctly talented in, and he'll flaunt it pretty hard when he gets the opportunity (though needs persuasion if he's around his parents or extended family because at this point he wants to minimize any chances to draw their ire by not drawing their attention period. But then will go extra hard in a strange, vindictive sort of way if he gets over that hump. like "YEAH I CAN MOVE MY FEET SO FUKING FAST IM LIKE A FUCKING. GAZELLE IM SO FUCKING SMOOTH WITH IT FUCK YOU MA WAIT NO IM SORRY, NO IM NOT- WAIT-" communicated through aggressive movement alone).

Faiza is a pretty bad dancer (and VERY bad singer). Song, dance, and movement are pretty important aspects of religious veneration and Odonii do probably the most well-known and critical dances, so this has always been a problem for her and something she's a little insecure about. She had to work her absolute ass off to get to the point of being able to perform the lion dance/various weapon dances adequately, and what competency she's gained from that does not seem to translate to ANYTHING else. She'll still join in informal dances and usually have fun doing it. Gets internally heated when Janeys very amicably ribs her about it, because him actually being better than her at anything that she's Supposed to be good at is unsettling.

Brakul's just kind of middling. Competent enough to not draw any attention in either direction in folk dances where everyone's an amateur. He's pretty self-confident in general but has a few things that he gets weirdly touchy about and dancing is one, he usually needs to be coaxed into it and absolutely will not dance alone.

Hibrides tends to be extremely self-conscious in any situation where she may draw attention to herself from strangers, which includes the majority of scenarios in which she could be dancing. She has habitually sat out of dances at weddings and festivals and the like for most of her life, so has never really developed the skill to begin with. Will sometimes attempt to replicate dances she's seen when she's completely alone and be like 'yeahhhh ok no this looks dumb' and give up. There Was a point ~8 years back on where She + Janeys + Brakul were operating the most harmoniously they ever did as a (ymmv) throuple. There was one night where they were all a little buzzed, Janeys was fucking around on the lyre and attempting a faster song, and Brakul persuaded her into dancing to it with him. And it was SUPER rough on all ends and there was no rhythm to ground it, but they all thought it was fucking hilarious. Went at it for almost an hour. The moment passed eventually and the scenario never repeated itself in full.

[bullet-prooflove]

Book Club: Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @kari-roses2 @tezooks @las-galletas @watermeezer

Summary: Things change for you and Bob, one night after book club.

Companion piece to:

Bob's Books - Bob can't help can't help but wonder what happened to you.

The last Thursday of every month Bob attends book club. He sits around a table in your bookshop and sips from a cup of decaf tea because he’s discovered that caffeine messes with his bipolar.

At first he’s shy. He listens to the others in the group as they discuss the novel on that month’s list but as time goes on he becomes bolder, expressing his opinion, exploring the themes.

At the end of each night he helps you collect the books before you close up the shop. They’re to be donated the next day to the local library because their funding has been cut off, and the only way that they can get new books is through kind people like yourself giving them away.

“I appreciate you sticking around to help.” You tell him as you stand side by side at the counter checking over the books for damage. You like to make sure the library receive the best copies you can give them and although most the group are pretty good about looking after their version, there’s one or two that like to annotate even though you’ve requested they don’t. “It’s goes a lot faster trying to find the messed up copies when there’s two of us.”

“I enjoy the methodicalness of it.” He finds himself telling you as your shoulders brush lightly. Your clothes rustle, your shirt, his shirt and it takes him back for a moment, to a time where he was hearing that sound for a different reason. “It helps me keep focus.”

“I’m glad you decided to join the bookclub.” You tell him, the edges of your mouth tipping up into a smile as you study his features. “It feels like you come alive during those discussions. Your eyes light up and… it’s just really great to see.”

“Books have always been my safe haven.” He says, closing the one in front of him and moving onto the next. “When my dad would beat my mom, beat me… They were my refuge for a long time.”

“I can understand that.” You say quietly, your finger skimming over the pages. “I don’t know if you remember but things weren’t all that great at home for me neither, the library helped keep me out of that house and when I had to be there, books helped me forget about it.”

That’s how you ended up going to the same parties. They’re the only place you have to go when home isn’t an option. You hope that someone will let you crash over the weekend so you don’t have to face what’s waiting for you on the other side.

“I’m sorry.” He finds himself saying as his gaze flickers up to meet yours. “For getting you hooked, for leaving… I just…”

He can’t seem to find the words to express the regret he feels. It burrows inside of him, keeping him awake at night as he thinks about the girl he used to know back then.

“You don’t need to be sorry.” You say kindly, your hand coming to rest on his, your thumb chasing over the hollow of his wrist. It feels like electric dancing over his skin, like passion and wildness, like all of those other crazy things that he used to feel when he was with you. “If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else. I was looking for an escape…”

“Is that what I was?” He asks softly, his hair falling over his features as he looks into your eyes. “An escape?”

“No.” You whisper, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair back behind his ear. Your hand lingers, your thumb ghosting over the able of his cheek. He closes his eyes at the tenderness of the gesture, the light floral scent of your perfume flooding his senses. “You were always so much more than that.”

He doesn’t expect the kiss, the featherlight brush of your lips over his. It’s different from the way it used to be, gentler and he savours the sensation as you explore his mouth like it’s the first time all over again.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, pulling away. “I just wanted to see what it was like…”

You trail off but he understands. The two of you have never been together sober, every kiss, every fuck, it was always under the influence of a narcotic. You aren’t the only one who’s wondered what it might be like, Bob has spent hours imagining how it might feel to be with you again.

His arm loops around your waist drawing you back to him. Your palms come to rest on his chest, trailing over the firm muscles underneath his navy blue t-shirt.

“I want to experience that with you.” He whispers, his clean shaven cheek pressing against yours, his breath ghosting in your ear. “I want to know what what’s like to be with you again, no inhibitors, no distractions. Just us.”  

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the silky strands and it makes every single nerve ending in his body light up as his hips jerk against you.

“Alright.” You whisper as his lips brush over your jaw, his mouth seeking out yours. “Let’s make tonight about us.”

Love Bob? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[croquettish]

Finally watching a playthrough of KCD1 and it deeply amuses me, with my power of hindsight, how much Hans thinks Henry sucks at first. Like sir that is your future husband* lmao

*anachronistic language for the purposes of comedy

Oh I'm so glad you're watching it!! Honestly I cannot imagine going into KCD2 without the background knowledge of KCD1.

Anyway, I actually don't think that Hans thinks he sucks at all! In fact, I think that's kind of the problem. He sees this kid who does the most impulsive shit just because he wants to and then not only gets away with it but gets promoted while he gets constantly shat on for stepping so much as a toe out of line. And I think he hate hate HATES that. Because more than anything else, he sees the freedom in Henry that he was never allowed.

It's also why he challenges Henry so stubbornly! To him, Henry is on top of the world where he could never be so the logical course of action is to tear him down so that he can somehow end up on top even though he doesn't feel like he is. He hates Henry so much because he wishes that could be him.

[charmedimsure]

Hello! Can I order a Dae Ho one-shot? about the reader who comes to the game pregnant and meets Dae Ho there and they have some kind of connection and he tells her that when they get out of there he would like to be with her and the baby.

thank you and happy new year <3

*slams bell* ORDER UP! (im sorry that was so cringey)

THE THREE OF US || kang dae-ho

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader

summary: Trying to make it out of the games with both you and your baby's lives, you meet a man who is determined to help.

word count: 6.3k (i did not expect it to be this long thats what she said)

warnings: pregnancy, guns, death, blood, squid game stuff

A/N: i love jun-hee, but the reader replaces her in this fic. reader has no connection to myung-gi (333). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 2: After the Games

The second game is about to start, and time is running out for you to find a team. You've approached a few groups, but have been turned away by all of them. Turns out most groups don't want women on their team.

Out of the corner of your eye you spot the man who had won these games before, along with the man who beat up those other players the day before. Figuring you might as well take a shot, you approach them.

Just as you get to them, a handsome man comes running over, pulling a player along behind him. "Sir! I got someone! He'll definitely risk his life to win."

The man he brought salutes the others. "Victory at all costs!"

The shorter man in the group, player 390, smiles and salutes back. "Hey, were you in the Marines?"

"Class 946, sir!"

Player 390 laughs. "Boy, with three ex-Marines, we'll be invincible." He turns to players 001 and 456. "What do you think? I like him."

Great, you think to yourself. Now they get to pick between an ex-Marine and a woman who can barely stand for more than 20 minutes at a time. Still though, this is a good team, and you'll be damned if you don't at least try.

"Excuse me," you say, getting the group's attention. "Please let me join your team."

Player 390 speaks up. "Sorry, we've already got five people."

Fuck it. Time to pull out the big guns.

"Please help me," you plead, leaning back a bit and putting your hand up to your swollen belly. "I'm pregnant."

All five men grow silent as they look down to your stomach.

<>

"Time for team selection is up."

You can feel the stares of your new team on you as the second game is announced. You just look forward, trying to listen to voice.

"The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each player will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the mini games. Number one, Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gong-gi. Number four, Spinning Top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide players for each mini-game."

Player 390 turns to his friend. "It's good that we got a woman." He turns to you. "You can play Gong-gi, right?"

You give him a sorry look as you shake your head.

His smile falters. "Don't girls play Gong-gi anymore?"

You look down at the sand. "I've played it, but I was never good at it."

You can see the disappointment on his face as he nods.

Player 388 takes a deep breath as he turns toward 390. "Actually, I can play Gong-gi."

390 gives him a confused look. "You? And ex-Marine?"

You give 390 a weird look. Is it really that hard to believe that a military man has played a kid's game before?

388 gets embarrassed. "I grew up with four older sisters. I used to play it with them from time to time."

You smile, thinking it's sweet that he used to play games with his sisters.

390 claps him on the back. "That's right. There's nothing a Marine can't do."

Player 456 leans forward to look at all of you. "Everyone else, what game are you confident playing?"

You take a deep breath. Jegi was the game you were best at growing up, but you don't think you'll be able to play it in your condition. You lean forward as well. "I can play Ddakji. At the subway station I flipped the guy's on my first try."

390 nods. "Okay. Miss 222, you can play Ddakji. I'll play Flying Stone. I was a pitcher for my baseball team. I'm good at throwing."

As 456 and 001 decide who will play Jegi and who will play Spinning Top, 388 turns to you.

"Did you really beat him on the first try? It took me at least eight."

You breathe out a laugh and give him a small smile. "Yeah. I probably could have paid off my debt if he had let us keep playing." Your smile falters as you rest your hand on your swollen stomach. "It would have been safer for the baby."

388 frowns sympathetically and scoots a bit towards you. "We will get out of here. And after that, we will go home. You and your baby will be safe."

Although you don't completely believe him, you still give him a smile and thank him for his kind words.

You feel movement in your stomach and let out a small yelp at the unexpected feeling, looking down towards your hand.

"Are you alright? What happened?" 388 asks, concern clear on his face.

With a smile, you lift your head to look at him and the others who have directed their attention to you. "I felt the baby kick."

Player 388 breaks out into a smile as he looks to your belly, seemingly fascinated by what is happening inside of you.

Player 001 lets out a loud laugh. "The baby wants to play Jegi."

You let out a chuckle as the men laugh. You made a good choice asking these players for help.

"All right guys, bring your hands together," 390 says, sticking his hand out in front of him. "All together now."

You need to scoot over a bit, but you put your hand on the pile on top of 388's, who gives you a shy smile.

"On three, we go, 'Victory at all costs.' One, two, three..."

"Victory at all costs!"

<>

The walls open and forklifts are brought in holding boxes with pink bows on top. You watch as the bodies of both teams are separated from each other and placed into each box. One team had made it past the fourth mini-game, while the other had only just finished the second. Both teams were executed.

The bodies are eventually cleared out, but the blood remains on the track. The second team lines up and you recognize the sweet old lady who had given you her egg this morning, as well as her son. Shit, you really hope they make it.

The gun fires and they're off. The first girl, player 095, looks so nervous I'm worried she won't be able to throw the Ddakji. Her first three attempts fail, and she looks as though she won't be able to continue. Player 120 whispers something to her and she nods. She picks up the Ddakji, turns in over in her hand, and smacks it to the floor. Success.

The group celebrates as they move on, and you make a mental note of that little trick for when it's your turn.

Next is player 007, the son. He throws the stone and misses. Instead of panicking like the past groups, they quickly grab the stone and move backwards to the line, saving lots of time. As 007 is preparing to throw the stone again, his mother whispers something to him. A look of anger washes over his face.

"That asshole ruined my fucking life!"

A perfect hit. The entire crowd cheers as they advance to the next mini-game. You smile to yourself. They can do this.

Next is the mother playing Gong-gi. She drops her first two tries. You're guessing it must be at least a few decades since she last played.

"Old hag! What are you doi-"

Player 120 puts her hand over player 044's mouth to shut her up.

You watch as 007 speaks to his mother. With a new look of determination in her eyes, she blasts through Gong-gi until she needs to make the final catch. You and player 388 sit on your heels to get a better look. Her son speaks to her again, and face turns to one of rage.

"Rotten bitch!"

All five pieces end up in her hand.

"She did it!" Player 390 says, getting to his feet, 388 following after him. You try to get up but fall back as you lose your balance. Player 388 notices and holds your arms to help you up, keeping a hand on your back to keep you steady as you stand to watch the next game.

044 fumbles the top as she's wrapping it, but quickly retrieves it and tries again. She fumbles a few more times before stopping. Her team freaks out as she stands there mumbling to herself.

A gasp rings out through the crowd as 120 slaps 044 twice, picking up the fallen top and pointing it threateningly at 044's eye.

"Oh shit," you say under your breath.

Player 044 wipes away the blood streaming from her nose and tries again the wrap the string around the top. She gets it on her first throw and the crowd screams in joy as they move to the next one. Everyone is standing now to watch, chanting along to each step.

Player 120 is handed the Jegi and requests that everyone turns around. Not wanting to mess them up, everyone turns without hesitation. The room is silent besides the sound of the Jegi hitting 120's shoes.

Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five times.

It's done! They did it!

The rooms bursts into screams as the team crosses the finish line at the last second. You turn and hug 388 in pure joy as he jumps up and down. He quickly pulls away so he doesn't do anything to harm the baby, but keeps his arm around you as he celebrates with 390.

The teams keep going, with everyone celebrating the wins and wincing at the gunfire until it is finally your turn.

As you walk to the starting position, a hand gently grabs your wrist and you turn to see player 388. "Make sure to be careful. Take it easy and don't strain yourself."

You nod with a small smile and thank him, taking your spot in the outer ring of the small track. You take deep breaths as the harnesses are secured around your ankles.

"It's a little sad that we have no audience, isn't it?" 390 says, worry in his voice. He nudges 388. "Hey, are you scared?"

"No sir!" 388 yells, making you jump a bit as you were not expecting it. "It's quiet and easier to focus without anyone watching."

390 looks towards the other team. "Hey guys! We'll see you again at the finish line! Victory at all costs!"

The other team yells back their thanks and support before the pistol is fired and you're off.

When you approach the first mini-game, you take the blue tile and turn it over in your hand to match 095's. Throwing it hard at the floor, you yell in delight as the red tile flips over.

You move on to the next game, holding your stomach as you walk.

As 390 takes the stone, 388 yells out "Let's get this done the first time! I believe in you!"

"When I played baseball, my pitches might have been slow, but I had excellent ball control." You watch as the stones collide and yell out in victory as you move to the next one.

388 takes the Gong-gi pieces and you all crouch down.

390 faces him. "Dae-ho, stay calm. Even if you mess up..."

Player 388, or Dae-ho, puts his finger over his mouth to shush him before facing the board, rolling his wrist a few times and dropping the pieces. As quickly as he can, Dae-ho flawlessly gets through the game and catches all five pieces. You and your team members look at each other in awe of what you just watched. It seems that even Dae-ho can't believe he did it.

He lets out a scream as the guard confirms that he passed.

"That was amazing!" Player 390 yells. "Dae-ho, my boy!"

As you move to the fourth mini game, Player 390 looks down at you. "You're expecting, so be careful."

You nod but try to keep your pace, leaning on the small green table once you get to where you need to be.

As player 001 wraps the string around the top, Dae-ho bounces excitedly. "We might get through everything on the first attempt!"

Player 001 throws the top and it falls lazily to the floor as you all frown.

"It's okay, we have enough time," 456 says. "Let's go pick it up. Ready, go."

You all move forward together to grab the top. "No fun passing everything without a hitch," 390 says.

"That's right," 388 confirms. "You can't grow without failure, right?"

You guess he's right, but it would've been nice to pass everything easily. At least you still have three minutes left.

001 grabs the top and you move back to your spots. On his next throw you watch helplessly as the top flies behind your group. You would have laughed in any other situation.

Player 001 apologizes and you move back to grab the top, with 001 taking his sweet time to pick it up. To save time, he tries wrapping it as you walk forward again, but he breaks out of the arm link in frustration. This time he throws it as soon as it is wrapped. It doesn't spin, but at least it lands directly in front of him so you don't have to move again.

Player 456 picks up the top as 001 sighs in frustration. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He screams and you gasp when he starts slapping himself and calling himself an idiot.

456 takes his arms to stop him. "Try to remember the times when you had fun playing this."

001 nods and takes the top and string again. You take the time to look at the clock and feel a wave of worry wash over you when you see that you have less than a minute left. This time, 001 throws the top with his left hand and it spins perfectly on its axle.

You yell in joy as you quickly links arms again and move to the last game. Player 390 checks on you again as you move, and you just wave him off. The stress can't be good for the baby, but it's definitely not as bad as a bullet.

456 grabs the jegi and moves the pink soldier out of the way. He throws it up.

One hit. Two hits. Three hits. Four hits...

You watch in horror as the jegi flies in front of 456. Quickly, 001 kicks his foot out, making you all almost fall as the jegi lands on top of 456's left foot.

"Pass."

You all yell out victoriously and quickly move, crossing the finish line with a second to spare.

As you're all hugging each other, you flinch at the sounds of gunshots coming from the other side of the room. The other team didn't make it.

The main room is oddly quiet as you walk in. As happy as everyone was to see people pass while watching the games, they don't seem to be very happy about it now. Player 390 next to you waves at someone, and you look in the direction to see the woman and her son.

"That sweet old lady," he says with a smile. "I miss my mom."

You smile at the lady and bow your head to her as she gives you a big smile and two thumbs up.

As you sit down to rest and wait for the pink soldiers, 001 speaks up. "I'm sorry about earlier, everyone."

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the last kick," 456 says and you nod.

001 looks at you. "Player 222, are you feeling alright?"

You nod. "Yes. Thank you all for letting me be on your team."

Dae-ho smiles shyly and nods.

"She smashed that ddakji and flipped it on her first try, that was impressive," 390 says, making you smile at the praise. "She did great, even while carrying a baby. We were lucky she joined our team."

Dae-ho nods. "What about your Flying Stone play? You hit it with one shot! With an underhand pitch at that! Bam!" You let out a small laugh as he reenacts 390's throw. "You were like Kim Byung-hyun."

"And you?" 390 says. "Was Gong-gi the only game you ever played?" He quickly moves his hand around to imitate Dae-ho. "I could barely see your hand. It was like a martial arts movie."

Dae-ho laughs. "I'm the only son for two generations. My mom only let me play at home with my sisters."

"And yet they let their precious son join the Marines?" 390 questions.

Dae-ho hesitates. "My father's idea, he wanted me to be more of a man. He fought in the Vietnam War, you see."

"He sounds like a great man," 390 says and Dae-ho nods. "Was he a Marine, too?"

You can see the discomfort on Dae-ho's face and he quickly excuses himself from answering the question, instead standing up to face everyone. "Listen. Perhaps we should learn each other's names. I still don't know your names, gentlemen." He smiles a bit more when he looks to you. "Or your's, Miss. I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. 'Dae' means 'big', 'ho' means 'tiger'."

"'Big tiger.' Cool name," 390 says. "My name is Park Jung-bae. 'Righteous' and 'twice'. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."

You go next, stating your name for the group. "I don't know what it means, though."

001 says your name, getting your attention. "When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."

You nod. "Okay."

"I'm Oh Young-il," 001 says. He points out how it sounds like his number and the group laughs at the coincidence. Young-il turns to 456. "Oh, Gi-hun, what's your last name?"

"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun says.

"'Seong' literally means 'last name'," Young-il laughs aloud by himself.

A loud buzz is heard and the guards enter the room. After revealing the results of the game and announcing the next vote, your team turns to each other.

You look down at the red X on your track suit, and look up to see the blue 'O' on Dae-ho's. He sees your gaze and frowns down at his patch.

"I'm telling you, we'll get out this time," he says to the team, though he is mainly looking at you. He looks down at his patch again and curses under his breath. "A Marine should think strategically and know when to retreat." He puts a hand on Jung-bae's shoulder. "Isn't that right, brother?"

"Yeah, you're right," Jung-bae says weakly. "Marines aren't invincible. We should get out." Despite saying this, the look on his face and the nervousness in his tone contradict his words.

"We have to end the games here," Gi-hun says. He turns to look at you. "I will help you guys when we get out. Please trust me and support this vote."

You smile and nod in thanks.

"Guys, all huddle up again," Dae-ho smiles as he sticks out his hand.

"Victory at all costs."

<>

You frown as the buzzer goes off one last time. There had been some... complications during the voting. This lead to the final vote being 116 for X and 139 for O. Standing next to Dae-ho, you don't miss the look of betrayal on his face as he looks over to Jung-bae with the blue patch on his chest.

Dae-ho lets out a loud sigh as you eat your bread. "Brother! Brother Jung-bae!"

You can see Jung-bae tense up from his spot behind the beds.

With a sigh, Dae-ho stands up and approaches the man. "Hey, just come back here."

"No, I'm good here," you hear Jung-bae answer. You roll your eyes.

"Oh, come on." Dae-ho grabs Jung-bae and drags him to face the group.

He stops and stares at you all before speaking. "I'm sorry. I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I'll be able to settle my debt."

"Jung-bae," Young-il addresses the man sadly. "You of all people shouldn't have done it. It's not twice as righteous." He sighs before continuing. "But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted."

Jung-bae jumps at this. "Right? It's not entirely my fault."

"Alright," Dae-ho steps up. "To be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn't enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game."

Jung-bae hugs the man. "You did?"

Dae-ho pushes him away. "I said I get it."

The shorter man turns back to the group. "Thank you for understanding. But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn't we? If we stick together one more time, I'm sure we'll be fine." He turns to you. "I'll make sure we survive the next game-"

"'The next game'?" Gi-hun cuts him off. "In the next game, we might have to kill each other."

There is silence before Young-il speaks up. "Gi-hun, that's a bit much. There's nothing we can do now, so let's try to stay positive. We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again." He picks up his milk and hands it to you. "Here, you can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game."

You shake your head. "No, that's okay."

"Take it. I don't drink plain milk."

You thank him as you take the milk.

Jung-bae takes the bread out of his pocket. "Have my bread, too. I don't deserve to eat."

You smile as you take it. You have been feeling hungry and one piece of bread would definitely not be enough for you, so you're grateful for the men around you.

"I'll take your milk then," Dae-ho says to Jung-bae.

Before you can stop yourself, a loud laugh escapes from your mouth. The others smile before laughing along as well. You look over to Dae-ho to see a blush covering his face as he smiles.

<>

"Pass it to me."

The guys hand each other mattresses as they move them to under the beds. You had been put in charge of collecting blankets and pillows so you wouldn't strain yourself.

"Is this really necessary?" Jung-bae asks. "I don't like sleeping under there."

"Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us," Gi-hun says as he pushes another mattress under a bed frame.

"What?" Dae-ho asks. "Who?"

"The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It's part of the game they designed."

"Gi-hun, I think you're overreacting here," Young-il says. "Even if that were true, people wouldn't do that."

Gi-hun turns to face him. "In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here. You have no idea how people can change in this place."

Young-il apologizes and you hand the blankets in your arms to Jung-bae.

"We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out," Gi-hun says. "I'll take the first, you should decide the order for the rest."

The order decided was that Jung-bae would take over after Gi-hun, then Dae-ho, then Young-il would be last. You tried to volunteer to keep watch but they immediately shot you down, saying you needed the rest more than them.

<>

After a trip to the bathroom with players 149 and 120, whose names you still did not know, you come back to find Dae-ho keeping watch. You try to quickly wipe the tear stains from your cheeks as you walk back to the makeshift shelter. You give a quick nod to Dae-ho before trying to move past him, but he calls out your name, making you stop and turn to look at him.

He looks up at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

You put on a smile and nod. "Yes, I'm fine." As you try to walk away you feel his hand gently grab your wrist to stop you.

"No you're not," he says. You sigh, upset that you've been caught. He moves to the side to give you space and you sit next to him, figuring you're not gonna get out of this. "What happened? Was it the baby?"

You shake your head, feeling tears start to well up again. "It's everything." You put your head in your hands. "I never should have played Ddakji with that guy, I never should have called the number, I should have just stayed at home and prepared for the baby."

Dae-ho gently rubs your back as you cry into your sleeves. Even though you really only just met, he feels connected to you. Maybe it's just because you survived the second game together, but he cares for you and doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. He was stunned when you had walked up to the group before the game and asked to join, immediately regretting picking anyone besides the beautiful stranger that was standing in front of him.

"What about your husband?" Dae-ho asks. "Does he know that you're here?"

You shake your head. "I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend. It's just me and the baby." You turn to look at him and although he's too kind to ask you how you got knocked up, you can see the question all over his face. "My ex-boyfriend is the reason I got into so much debt. He made a lot of bad investments and when he ran out of his own money, he started using mine. When I told him I was pregnant, he freaked out and left. Didn't even say anything, his stuff was just all gone one day."

Dae-ho feels himself getting angry at this. If he found out a man had done this with one of his sisters, he would do something to him that would probably land him in prison. It takes two people to make a baby. Just because the mother is the one that carries it doesn't mean that the father isn't responsible for the child.

"He's a fucking coward," Dae-ho says, making you snort a small laugh. "And he's an idiot to leave you."

"It's for the best, though," you say. "He wasn't a good boyfriend, I knew that even while we were dating. But he was my first love, and we all do stupid things the first time we're in love." Dae-ho nods, watching as you bring your hand to rest on your stomach. "I only wish that my child would have a father in their life."

"They will have an amazing mother, though," he says, making you smile.

"I hope so," you rub your swollen belly. "Hey, Dae-ho, can I ask you something?"

Dae-ho nods, looking at you with intrigue.

"Earlier you told Jung-bae that you had thought about voting to stay. Why didn't you?" You ask.

The man takes a deep breath. "Honestly, I thought of you. You and your baby. When you told us that you're pregnant, it really hit me that I'm not the only person in here, that there are other lives at risk. If you died, it wouldn't just be the end of your life. Your baby doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that."

You can't help the smile that blooms on your face at his words, as well as the small blush. "Thank you for thinking of me. You're a very sweet person, Kang Dae-ho." You watch as he gives you a shy smile, a light dusting of pink on his face. "What about you? Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you back home?"

He shakes his head. "No, just me." You give him an incredulous look and he chuckles. "Dating wasn't easy while in the Marines, and I guess I just never found anyone that interested me enough after."

You let out a small laugh. "Sounds like you have high standards."

He chuckles. "I'm just waiting to find the one. They say that when you know, you know."

"That's going to be one very lucky girl," you say, watching as the blush on his face deepens. "I hope you find her soon."

"I can't explain why, but I feel like I will." He smiles down at you with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. After a few moments he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've kept you up for so long, you should get some sleep. You'll likely need your energy for tomorrow's game."

You nod, standing up. "You're right, I've been up too long." You start to move towards your mattress, but stop. "It was nice talking to you, Dae-ho."

He smiles at you. "Goodnight."

You smile back. "Goodnight."

For the rest of his watch, Dae-ho sneaks peaks at your sleeping form, a warm feeling running through him when he thinks about your words.

<>

You awake to the feeling of someone shaking you. Groggily opening your eyes, you see Dae-ho leaning over you.

"The next game is starting soon, we need to get up," he says.

You hear the classical music that has played before every game and nod, allowing him to help you get out of bed. "Nothing to start the day off like a sadistic game and fearing for your life, huh?"

Dae-ho lets out a chuckle as you make your way to the doors. He walks behind you on the stairs to make sure you don't fall, and stands right by your side as the curtains are opened to reveal the game room.

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle. All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

"Oh, this game?" Jung-bae says. "We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging."

"I played it too," you say. "But we would hold hands instead."

Together you set up a strategy. If the number is five, you'll all go together. If it's more than five, you'll grab however many people we need. If it's smaller than five, you'll break off into groups. When your strategy is done, you put your hands in the center.

"Victory at all costs."

<>

"Let the game begin."

The platform jerks as it starts rotating, and you almost lose your balance, but Dae-ho is there to grab you and steady you on your feet.

"Ten."

Everyone starts looking around like mad as they try to find ten players.

Gi-hun looks to a player behind him. "How many are you?"

"Four," the woman replies. You recognize her as one of the women who came to the bathroom with you last night.

"That makes us nine!" Jung-bae says.

A man from another group comes running over. "Are you five? We need five!"

Before any of you can answer, another player yells back. "We have five people! Come with us!"

The two groups go running off towards a door.

"We have to hurry!" Gi-hun says.

"There's no time, Gi-hun!" Young-il tells him.

"We need one more!" the tall woman yells. She spots someone by herself near the center of the platform and grabs her. "We have ten!"

"Room 44! Green door! Hurry!" Young-il yells, already running off in the direction of the door.

You run as fast as you can towards the door as Young-il holds it open for everyone to get inside. You feel Dae-ho's hand on the small of your back the entire way to the room. Before you get the chance to even think, the clock runs out, and the lock clicks on the door.

Screams and gunshots can be heard from behind the door, the sad fate of those who didn't make it in time.

Dae-ho turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "How are you feeling? Is everything okay?"

"A bit out of breath, but I'm okay," you say, and he nods. Taking the chance to look around the room, you see that the other five is the first group that passed the pentathlon the day before.

"You're alive thanks to me!" Player 044 yells out, making you jump. She looks over everyone before stopping on you and stepping closer, making you take a step back. Dae-ho holds you close to him as the woman looks down at your stomach. She then looks up at Dae-ho and gives him a knowing smirk before leaving to speak to Gi-hun.

You look up at Dae-ho, who is still holding you to his chest. He watches the woman walk away before look down at you, your faces so close that your noses are only a few inches apart.

Once the bodies are removed from the playing area, you're let out of the room and make your way back to the center platform. The next round is four people to a room, and Young-il goes off on his own to find three more as the rest of you run to a room with a purple door.

Once you're let out, Dae-ho and Jung-bae yell for Young-il before a voice calling Gi-hun's name grabs your attention. You look over with relief to see Young-il jogging up to your group.

"I knew you were going to be okay!" Jung-bae smiles as he pulls Young-il in for a hug. "I knew it. You're not just anybody."

"I was worried," Gi-hun says. "I'm glad you made it."

Young-il smiles. "I'm a likable guy, so I'm good at games like this." He turns to you. "Are you feeling alright?"

You nod with a smile. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm glad you're back."

Young-il gives you a smile, but his face turns serious. "Wait a minute," Young-il says, "if the next number is six, we won't need anyone else, will we?"

"Why not?" Dae-ho asks.

After a moment, Jung-bae laughs. "Oh, in her tummy?"

Dae-ho lets out a loud laugh. "Right, that makes six."

You smile as they joke around, looking down to your swollen belly.

The next round is three, so you, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae run to a room with an orange door. With every round, you can feel yourself growing more and more tired, and your feet are begging for relief from so much standing and moving.

Once you get out of the green room with Dae-ho and players 120, 095, 007, and 149 (you make a mental note to ask for their names once you're back in the main room), you feel exhausted. As you step onto the platform, Dae-ho grabs your arm to support you.

"Now, the final round will begin."

The platform begins to rotate and you lean on Dae-ho to keep yourself upright.

"What do you think it'll be this time?" Jung-bae leans forward to ask Gi-hun.

"Two," Young-il answers, getting our attention.

"Why?"

"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough rooms for everyone, only 100."

"Are you alright?" Dae-ho asks you, concern on his face.

You shake your head. "I don't think I can run anymore."

The platform stops and the lighting dims.

"Two."

Before you can tell what's happening, you are lifted off the ground. You hold on tightly to Dae-ho as he sprints to the nearest door with you in his arms. Once inside, he places you on the ground and moves toward the door, pushing his weight against it to keep anyone else from getting in and pushing you out.

You keep your gaze on the man. He saved your life. He saved your baby's life. Without hesitation. Hell, he even voted to leave for you yesterday. This man who only came into your life a day ago has shown you more unwavering loyalty than anyone else has before.

Then the realization dawns on you: you don't want to do this without him. You don't want anything to happen to him. You want to protect him, just as he is protecting you. Not just in the games, but always.

The lock on the door clicks into place and screams are heard from the other side of the door. Once the screams finish, Dae-ho kneels beside you.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, still in awe of the man in front of you. You examine his face and a surge of confidence rushes through you.

"Can I do something really stupid?"

Dae-ho gives you a confused look. "What?"

You grab his zip-up and pull him to you, planting your lips against his. You feel him stiffen and worry that you've made a terrible mistake, but before you can pull away, you feel one of his hands slide into your hair as the other moves to cup your cheek.

For a perfect moment, you're not in this crazy place. There's no debt, there's no death, there's no fear. There's just you and Dae-ho.

You pull away first but Dae-ho chases your lips, giving you a peck before resting his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.

"I promise you that I am going to get us out of here," he whispers to you. You feel his hand move down to your stomach. "The three of us. If you'll let me."

You gasp at his words, tears forming in your eyes as you nod. This time, you believe him. Dae-ho pulls you in for another kiss and you smile against his mouth, feeling him smile as well.

The sound of the door unlocking gains your attention and Dae-ho pulls away. Voices can be heard beyond the door.

Dae-ho stands up and holds out his hands for you to take, helping you to your feet. He wipes the stray tears from your cheeks and plants a kiss on your forehead before lacing your fingers together and leading you out of the room.

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck

Lmk if you want to be added to the Dae-ho taglist!

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them

I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.

In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:

(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)

Perfectionism (most common)

What it looks like:

You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"

Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.

Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?

I hate everything I write

Cringing while writing

My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer

Things that can help:

Give yourself permission to suck

Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft

Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later

People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later

Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing

Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase

Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail

It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page

Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)

What it looks like:

Head empty, no ideas

What do I even write about???

I don't have a plot, I just have an image

Want to write but no story to write

Things that can help:

Google writing prompts

If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out

Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that

It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing

Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them

If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later

Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)

What it looks like:

I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt

Writing words feels like pulling teeth

I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted

I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window

Things that can help:

Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.

Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text

Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score

Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group

Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph

Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer

Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)

What it looks like:

I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop

I don't even know where to start

I love writing, but I can never seem to get started

I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)

Can't find the time or energy

Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)

Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying

Things that can help:

Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started

Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)

Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person

Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement

The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))

What it looks like:

I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene

I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going

I don't think I'm doing this right

What's an outline?

Drowning in documents

This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)

Things That Can Help:

Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working

A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go

If you don't have an outline, write one

If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it

You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural

Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them

Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers

Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough

Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism

What it looks like:

Everything in boredom/understimulation

Everything in intimidation/procrastination

You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism

Things that can help:

If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment

Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)

Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support

Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch

Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)

And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness

What it looks like:

You have symptoms of burnout or depression

Struggling with all things, not just writing

It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead

Things that can help:

Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.

Seek professional help

If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic

[harrysfolklore]

christ-max -mv1

summary: you invite your boyfriend max to spend christmas with you for the first time, however, your family doesn't quite believe you're dating a formula 1 world champion. wc: 5.8k

folkie radio: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOUUUU! i hope you're having the best day ever with your loves ones. this fic ended up being longer than i intended but i hope you like it!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You're nestled into Max's side on his couch, wrapped in the soft throw blanket he keeps specifically for these quiet moments together. The afternoon light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Monaco apartment, casting a glow across the room. Your feet are tucked under you, and you can smell the lingering scent of the coffee you both made earlier.

The Netflix show you'd put on - some random documentary about deep-sea creatures - has become mere background noise. Max's fingers are threading through your hair in that gentle way that always makes you melt, occasionally stopping to massage your scalp. .

"I can't believe the season's actually over," you murmur, tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "Feels weird not having to plan around race weekends anymore."

Max chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rests. "Yeah, but now we have to plan around all the end-of-year events instead. Did you see how many galas and ceremonies are coming up?"

"At least those don't involve you flying halfway across the world," you tease, tilting your head to look up at him. His hair is slightly messy, free from its usual styling, and you resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers through it.

"True," he agrees, then glances at his phone on the coffee table. "Speaking of events, I can't believe it's already December. Christmas is going to be here before we know it. Guess time flies when you're busy winning championships."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the opening you've been waiting for. You've been thinking about this for weeks, planning how to bring it up. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something about Christmas," you start, sitting up slightly to face him better.

Max's blue eyes meet yours, curious. "What's on your mind?"

"Well…" you bite your lip, suddenly feeling nervous despite knowing there's no reason to be. "I was wondering if you'd want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year? I know we've kept things private, but I really want them to meet you, and-"

"Wait, really?" Max interrupts, his whole face lighting up with that boyish excitement that made you fall for him in the first place. "You want me to meet your family?"

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course I do. We've been together almost a year now, and they keep asking why I'm always smiling at my phone." You playfully poke his side. "Which is your fault, by the way."

He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers. "My fault? I'm just being my naturally charming self," he grins, then his expression turns slightly more serious. "But are you sure? I mean, won't they be surprised when you show up with, well…"

"With a four-time World Champion?" you finish for him, laughing. "Actually, my dad might pass out. He's been watching F1 since before I was born. He has no idea I've been dating his favorite driver."

Max's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm his favorite driver?"

"Don't let it go to your head," you warn playfully. "But yeah, he's got your merchandise and everything. It's actually kind of embarrassing how much he talks about you during race weekends."

Max throws his head back laughing, and you can't help but join in. "Oh God, this is going to be interesting," he says, wiping at his eyes. "What about the rest of your family?"

"Well, Mom will probably try to feed you until you burst - she's like that with everyone. And my little sister Ruby, she's seven and she's going to have so many questions. She's in that phase where she wants to know everything about everything."

"I can handle questions," Max says confidently, then hesitates. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"

You pretend to think about it. "Oh, you know, probably things like 'How fast have you ever driven?' 'Have you ever crashed?' 'Do you want to marry my sister?'"

Max nearly chokes on air at the last one, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "You're joking, right?"

"About Ruby? Nope, she has absolutely no filter," you laugh, then soften your voice. "But seriously, they're going to love you. Just be yourself - the you I know, not the racing driver everyone else sees."

He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family. I can't wait to meet them." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Should I wear my race suit when I meet your dad?"

You swat his arm, laughing. "Don't you dare! He'll actually faint." You settle back against his chest, feeling warm and content. "Thank you for saying yes. It means a lot to me."

"Thank you for asking me," he murmurs into your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too," you respond, smiling as his arms tighten around you. The documentary continues playing, forgotten again as you both start planning for Christmas, trading ideas and jokes about how to break the news to your family.

You're sitting cross-legged on Max's bed while he's in the shower, your phone propped up against a pillow as you FaceTime your family. Your mom's face fills most of the screen, with your dad peering over her shoulder and little Ruby bouncing around trying to get a better view.

"Honey, we can barely see you. The lighting is terrible," your mom critiques, and you adjust your position slightly.

"Better?"

"Much better! Now, what's this important thing you wanted to tell us about Christmas?" Your mom asks, while Ruby shouts "Is it presents?" in the background.

You take a deep breath, trying to contain your smile. "Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me this year… my boyfriend."

There's an immediate explosion of excitement. Ruby starts jumping up and down, your mom gasps dramatically, and your dad's eyebrows shoot up with interest.

"Finally!" your mom exclaims. "We've been wondering when you'd introduce him. You've been so secretive about this boyfriend of yours."

"What's his name?" Ruby pipes up, her face suddenly taking up half the screen as she pushes closer to the camera. "Is he nice? Does he like Disney movies?"

You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, Rubes, he's very nice. And his name is…" you pause, knowing what's coming. "Max. Max Verstappen."

There's a moment of silence before your dad bursts out laughing. "Good one, sweetheart. Now, what's his real name?"

"I'm serious, Dad. I'm dating Max Verstappen."

Your mom is trying to hold back her laughter now too. "Honey, isn't that the racing driver you and your father are always watching? The one your dad has all those caps and shirts of?"

"Yes, and I'm actually dating him," you insist, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Ruby's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fast car man? From TV?"

"The very same one, Rubes."

Your dad wipes tears from his eyes. "Come on now, what's next? Are you going to tell us you're best friends with Lewis Hamilton too?"

"Dad!" you groan, running a hand over your face. "I'm being serious! We've been dating for almost a year. I'm literally at his place right now!"

"In Monaco?" your dad asks skeptically. "Prove it."

You swing your phone around to show the familiar view of Monaco through the windows, but your dad just shakes his head. "Could be any apartment in Monaco."

"You're impossible!" you huff. "Fine, don't believe me. You'll see at Christmas."

Ruby presses her face closer to the screen again. "Will he bring his race car?"

"No, Rubes, he can't bring the race car," you say, softening your tone for your little sister. "But I promise you'll love him."

After a few more minutes of your family teasing you about your "imaginary Formula 1 driver boyfriend," you end the call with a mix of frustration and amusement. Just as you flop back onto the bed, you hear the bathroom door open and Max walks out, his hair still damp from the shower.

"How'd it go?" he asks, noticing your expression.

You let out a laugh. "They think I'm making you up. They literally don't believe I'm dating you."

Max raises his eyebrows, looking amused as he sits next to you on the bed. "Really?"

"Really. Dad laughed so hard he nearly cried. And Ruby, my little sister, just wants to know if you're bringing your race car for Christmas."

"Sorry to disappoint Ruby," he grins, then looks thoughtful. "You know, maybe we should've waited to tell them in person. The looks on their faces would've been priceless."

"Oh, don't worry," you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They'll still be priceless. Dad's going to lose it when he realizes all those times he was rambling about you during races, he was actually talking about his daughter's boyfriend."

Max laughs, pulling you closer. "What else should I know before meeting them?"

"Well, Ruby's seven and obsessed with Frozen. She'll definitely make you watch it and probably sing along too."

"I can handle that," he says confidently.

"And recite all the lines?"

"…Maybe not that."

"And act out the scenes with her?"

Max's eyes widen slightly. "What have I gotten myself into?"

You kiss his cheek. "Too late to back out now, Verstappen. You're stuck with us."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmurs, pulling you in for a proper kiss. "Even if it means playing Olaf the snowman."

"Oh no, you'll definitely be playing Elsa. Ruby's very particular about casting."

The look of horror on his face makes you burst out laughing, and soon he's joining in too. As your laughter dies down, you can't help but think about how perfect this feels - being here with him, planning to spend Christmas with your family, even if they don't believe you yet. You can't wait to see their faces when you show up at their door with Max Verstappen himself.

"Hey," Max says softly, breaking into your thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just thinking about how Christmas is going to be interesting this year."

"Interesting is one way to put it," he grins. "Should I wear my race suit when we arrive?"

"Don't you dare! Dad will actually faint."

"That's kind of the point," he winks, and you grab a pillow to hit him with, both of you dissolving into laughter again.

"Let me guess, another text from 'Max Verstappen'?" your dad teases from his spot at the kitchen counter, making air quotes with his fingers. He's wearing one of his many Red Bull Racing shirts, completely oblivious to the irony.

"Actually, yes," you reply, rolling your eyes. "He'll be here soon."

Your mom chuckles while peeling potatoes. "Honey, you can just tell us who your boyfriend really is. We won't judge, even if he's not a Formula 1 champion."

"Mom, I've told you a million times-"

"LOOK!" Ruby crashes into the kitchen, pointing at the TV in the living room where they're showing highlights from the last race. "It's YN's boyfriend!" She dissolves into giggles, clearly in on what she thinks is a funny joke.

"Very funny, Rubes," you mutter, but check your phone again when it buzzes.

Max: "Just turned onto your street. Nice neighborhood 😉"

Your heart starts beating faster. "He's here," you announce, heading toward the front door.

"Oh, we're still doing this?" your dad calls after you, amused. "Should I get my Max Verstappen cap for him to sign?"

"Actually, Dad, yes, you should," you shout back, slipping on your boots.

"Sweetie," your mom starts in that gentle voice she uses when she thinks you're being ridiculous, "you don't have to-"

The sound of a car pulling up interrupts her. You open the front door and step out onto the porch, watching as Max's car comes to a stop in your driveway. Your family has crowded behind you in the doorway, probably expecting to catch you in your "lie."

Max steps out of the car, looking unfairly handsome in his dark winter coat and scarf. His face lights up when he sees you, and you don't hesitate to run down the steps toward him.

"Hi," he grins, catching you in a tight hug and lifting you slightly off your feet. "Missed you."

You hear a loud gasp behind you, followed by what sounds like your dad choking on air.

"Missed you too," you murmur against his chest before turning to face your family, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.

The scene on your front porch is priceless. Your dad's mouth is hanging open, his face pale except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. Your mom has both hands pressed to her face in shock. Ruby is the only one moving, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"IT REALLY IS THE FAST CAR MAN!" she shrieks, breaking the silence as she barrels down the steps toward you both.

Max laughs, crouching down to her level. "Hi Ruby. Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you."

"You're real!" she exclaims, poking his arm as if to make sure.

"Very real," he confirms, looking thoroughly amused.

"I… you… but…" your dad stammers, still frozen in the doorway.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. LN," Max says, standing back up and guiding you and Ruby toward the porch. "Thank you for having me for Christmas."

Your mom seems to snap out of her shock first. "Oh my goodness, please come in! It's freezing out here. I… oh dear… the potatoes… I should… more food… I need to…"

"Mom, breathe," you laugh, as Max follows you inside.

Your dad hasn't moved an inch, still staring at Max like he's seeing a ghost. "You're… you're actually… the Brazil overtake…"

"Dad, no F1 talk yet!" you warn. "Let him at least get his coat off first."

"Right! Yes! Coat!" your dad says frantically. "I'll take your coat! And then maybe… could you… would you mind signing my…"

"Collection?" you finish for him, smirking. "The one you thought I was making up?"

Max raises his eyebrows at you, remembering your conversation about your dad's merchandise collection.

Ruby tugs on Max's hand. "Do you want to see my Frozen dolls? And can we watch the movie? Sissy said you've never seen it!"

"Ruby, let him settle in first," your mom calls from the kitchen, where she appears to be panic-cooking. "Oh God, is the food good enough? Do Formula 1 drivers have special diets? Should I-"

"Mom, the food will be perfect," you assure her, then turn to Max. "See? I told you they'd be cool about it."

Max tries to suppress his laugh as your dad continues to stare at him in awe, your mom stress-cooks enough food to feed an army, and Ruby continues pulling on his hand.

"Very cool," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though I think your dad might need to sit down."

"I'm fine!" your dad squeaks, then immediately sits down heavily on the nearest chair. "Just… just give me a minute to process that my daughter is actually dating Max Verstappen and I've been accidentally talking about my future son-in-law during every race and-"

"DAD!" you exclaim, feeling your face heat up while Max chuckles beside you.

"What? I'm just saying… all those times I said 'that Verstappen boy would make someone a good husband someday' and it turns out-"

"Okay!" you interrupt loudly. "Who wants coffee? Max, come help me with coffee!"

As you drag a laughing Max toward the kitchen, you hear Ruby start explaining the entire plot of Frozen to him, your mom muttering about needing to buy more food, and your dad still talking to himself about racing statistics.

"Still think this was a good idea?" you whisper to Max.

He pulls you closer, grinning. "The best. Though you might want to tell your dad to breathe before he passes out."

"Can we build a snowman after coffee?" Ruby calls out.

"Only if Max gets to be Elsa!" you shout back, earning you a playful glare from your boyfriend.

Looking around at your slightly chaotic but loving family, and seeing how naturally Max fits into it all, you can't help but smile. This is definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.

The initial chaos has settled into a cozy scene in your living room. You're curled up on the couch next to Max, who has Ruby practically attached to his side. She hasn't stopped talking since everyone sat down, and Max, to his credit, is giving her his complete attention.

"And then Elsa makes this huge ice castle," Ruby explains, using elaborate hand gestures. "Can you drive as fast as Elsa runs up the mountain?"

"Probably faster," Max answers with a grin, making Ruby's eyes widen.

"Even in the snow?"

"Even in the snow."

Your dad, who's finally regained his ability to form complete sentences, sits in his armchair trying very hard not to bombard Max with racing questions. He keeps opening his mouth, then closing it again when you give him a warning look.

"It's okay, Dad," you laugh. "You can ask him one race question. Just one."

Your dad looks like he might cry from happiness. "The overtake in Brazil-"

"Which one?" Max asks with a playful smirk, and your dad launches into an enthusiastic discussion about racing lines and grip levels.

Your mom returns from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, having finally accepted that she doesn't need to cook enough food for an entire F1 paddock. "Here we go. I hope it's okay, Max. YN mentioned you like hot chocolate."

"It's perfect, thank you," Max says warmly, accepting a mug.

Ruby immediately reaches for a cookie, then pauses. "Do race car drivers eat cookies?"

"Only the fast ones," Max whispers conspiratorially, making her giggle.

"Ruby, give Max some space to breathe," your mom says gently, noticing how your sister is practically in his lap.

"It's fine," Max assures her. "I have nephews. I'm used to it."

Ruby beams at this information. "Really? Do they like Frozen too?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation of it," he says, and Ruby launches into another detailed plot summary.

You catch your mom watching the interaction with soft eyes, all her earlier panic forgotten. She meets your gaze and mouths 'He's wonderful' when Ruby isn't looking.

Your dad has moved on from Brazil to discussing tire strategies, but stops himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you. You live this stuff."

"Not at all," Max says sincerely. "It's nice talking about it with someone who understands racing. YN usually just tells me to stop being a nerd when I talk about tire compounds."

"Because you spent two hours explaining the difference between C3 and C4 compounds!" you defend yourself.

"It's fascinating stuff," your dad says eagerly, and Max nods in agreement.

"Oh no, there's two of them now," you mutter to your mom, who laughs.

Ruby tugs on Max's sleeve. "Can we watch Frozen now? Please? You promised!"

"Ruby, let Max rest a bit," your mom starts, but Max shakes his head.

"A promise is a promise," he says solemnly to Ruby. "Should we watch it now?"

Ruby squeals with delight, jumping up to get the remote. Your dad looks slightly disappointed that his racing talk is being cut short, but you can see him hiding a smile at Ruby's excitement.

"Fair warning," you whisper to Max as Ruby sets up the movie, "she knows every word. And she will sing along."

"As long as she doesn't expect me to sing," he whispers back.

"MAX!" Ruby calls, patting the spot next to her on the floor where she's arranged pillows. "You have to sit here! It's the best spot!"

Max obliges, settling down next to her while you stay on the couch, exchanging amused looks with your parents as Ruby starts the movie, already mouthing along to the opening music.

Your mom leans over to you. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," she whispers. "He's lovely. And so good with Ruby."

"I told you," you whisper back, watching as Ruby explains to Max why Elsa has ice powers.

Your dad joins in the whispered conversation. "Think he'd sign my mug collection later?"

"Dad!"

"What? I'm just saying, Christmas cards would be sorted for the next few years…"

You're about to respond when Ruby shushes you all loudly. "This is the best part!"

Max catches your eye and winks, clearly enjoying himself despite being roped into a Disney movie viewing with a very enthusiastic seven-year-old commentator. Your heart swells watching him with your family, how naturally he fits in, how gentle he is with Ruby.

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ruby starts singing along with the movie.

"Later, Rubes," you promise. "Let's watch the movie first."

She nods seriously, then turns to Max. "Pay attention to this part. It's very important."

"I won't miss a second," he promises, and Ruby beams at him before turning back to the screen.

Your mom reaches over and squeezes your hand, giving you a knowing look. Even your dad has stopped thinking about racing long enough to appreciate the moment – his youngest daughter sharing her favorite movie with your boyfriend, who happens to be the F1 driver he's been fan-boying over for years.

It's perfect, you think, watching your family and Max together. Different from how you imagined telling them, but perfect nonetheless.

"Shh!" Ruby whispers loudly. "Elsa is about to sing Let It Go!"

Max shoots you a slightly panicked look as Ruby starts to stand up, clearly ready to perform the whole number. You just grin and shrug. After all, you did warn him about the singing.

Later that evening, you finally manage to steal a moment alone with Max. Ruby had fallen asleep during the third replay of Frozen, and your parents took her up to bed before retreating to the kitchen to finish some Christmas preparations.

You find Max on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. The winter air is crisp, and you can see his breath forming little clouds in the darkness. Quietly, you step out and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.

"Hey," he says softly, turning in your arms to face you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Needed a little break from being Elsa?"

You laugh quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "You were amazing with Ruby today. I think you're officially her new favorite person."

"She's a sweet kid," he smiles, then adds with a playful glint in his eyes, "Though I didn't expect to watch Frozen two times in one day."

"Just wait until tomorrow. She'll probably want to act it out."

He groans dramatically, but you can see the fondness in his expression. "The things I do for you."

"Mmm, and I appreciate every one of them," you murmur, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.

Max responds immediately, one hand moving to cup your face while the other pulls you even closer. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"For what?"

"For being so perfect with my family. For watching Frozen multiple times. For not running away when my dad started his racing commentary."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I like your family. Your dad's racing knowledge is impressive, your mom's trying very hard not to mother me to death, and Ruby…" he pauses, smiling. "Ruby reminds me of Victoria at that age."

You snuggle closer, seeking his warmth in the cold air. "I was so nervous about telling them, and then even more nervous when they didn't believe me. But this… this is better than I imagined."

"Even with your dad asking me to sign his entire Red Bull merchandise collection?"

"Hey, at least he waited until after dinner," you laugh. "Though I'm pretty sure he's in there right now planning which items to bring out first."

Max wraps his arms more securely around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he says quietly, and your heart skips a beat like it does every time he says those words.

"I love you too," you reply, tilting your face up for another kiss.

This one is deeper, more passionate, until you hear the back door creak and quickly step apart.

"Oh!" your mom exclaims, looking flustered. "Sorry, I just… wanted to ask about breakfast preferences… but it can wait… carry on!"

She disappears back inside, and you both burst into quiet laughter.

"We should probably go back in," you sigh, though you make no move to leave his embrace.

"Probably," he agrees, but instead of letting go, he pulls you back for one more kiss. "Five more minutes?"

You smile against his lips. "Five more minutes."

In the quiet of Christmas eve, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but think how perfectly he fits into your life, into your family, into your heart. Tomorrow there'll be more Frozen, more racing talk, more of Ruby's endless questions, but right now, it's just the two of you, and it's everything.

The winter sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains of your childhood bedroom, casting a soft golden glow across the room. You're wrapped in warmth, nestled against Max's chest with his arm draped around your waist. His steady breathing tells you he's awake before he even moves.

"Good morning," he murmurs against your neck, his voice still rough with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Morning," you whisper back, feeling his hand slowly slide beneath your sleep shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"Sleep well?" he asks innocently, but his actions are anything but innocent as he presses closer, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.

"Max," you breathe, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and knowing you should stop. "We can't… my parents…"

"Then we'll have to be very, very quiet," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. His hand travels higher under your shirt, making your breath hitch.

You turn in his arms, ready to either give in or properly protest - though the way he's looking at you, eyes dark with desire and that signature smirk playing on his lips, makes you lean heavily toward the former.

"You're trouble," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair.

He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "You love it."

Just as his hand starts to wander again, a voice pierces through the quiet morning:

"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAS!" Ruby's excited scream echoes through the entire house, followed by the thundering of small feet running down the hallway. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! SANTA CAME!"

Max drops his forehead to your shoulder with a frustrated groan. "Your sister has impeccable timing."

"Welcome to Christmas with Ruby," you laugh, pressing a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I tried to warn you."

"YN! MAX!" Ruby's fists pound on your door. "GET UP! There are presents EVERYWHERE! And it SNOWED!"

"Five more minutes, Rubes!" you call back.

"NO MINUTES! NOW!" she insists, continuing to knock. "Mom said breakfast is ready and Dad made hot chocolate and I SAW A HUGE PRESENT WITH MY NAME ON IT!"

Max chuckles against your shoulder. "I suppose we should…"

"PLEASE!" Ruby calls again. "I promise I'll let you drink your coffee first!"

"That's quite the offer from her," you tell Max. "She usually doesn't allow any delays on Christmas morning."

"We're coming, Ruby!" Max calls out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Give us two minutes to get dressed."

"TWO MINUTES! I'm counting!"

You can hear her dramatically counting down in the hallway, making Max laugh. "She's serious about this, isn't she?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

The living room is a festival of color and chaos when you finally make it downstairs. Ruby's bouncing by the tree in her Christmas pajamas, while your parents are settled on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee.

"Finally!" Ruby exclaims. "I counted way past two minutes!"

"Sorry, princess," Max says, accepting a coffee mug from your mom. "But I'm here now."

"Max, sweetheart, you really didn't have to get us anything," your mom says, noticing the pile of presents he'd arranged under the tree last night.

"Of course I did," he replies warmly. "It's Christmas."

Ruby's practically vibrating with excitement as your dad starts distributing gifts. "Can I open mine from Max first? Please?"

At your nod, she tears into the elaborate wrapping paper, gasping when she reveals a beautiful wooden chest with golden details. "It's like a treasure chest!"

"Open it," Max encourages, smiling.

Ruby lifts the lid carefully, her eyes widening. Inside is a complete collection of princess dresses, each one a perfect replica from different Disney movies, along with matching accessories and a tiara for each one.

"The chest is magical," Max explains, kneeling beside her. "Every time you open it, there might be a new surprise inside. And look at this…" He reaches in and pulls out a small envelope.

Ruby opens it to find a letter with the Disney castle letterhead. "Dear Princess Ruby," she reads aloud, her voice getting more excited with each word. "You are cordially invited to spend a royal weekend at Disney World, where you will have a private breakfast with all the Disney princesses…"

She doesn't even finish reading before launching herself at Max, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you thank you thank you! Can I try on the Elsa dress right now?"

"After presents," your mom laughs. "Let's see what else Santa brought."

Your dad opens his gift next, finding an envelope that makes him pause. "Son," he says, voice thick with emotion as he reads the contents. "This is…"

"VIP passes to the British Grand Prix," Max confirms. "Including garage access, grid walk, everything."

Your dad has to sit down, clutching the passes like they might disappear. "This is… I can't…"

"And this," Max hands him another package, "is just a little something extra."

Inside is a vintage racing jacket from your dad's favorite driver from the 80s, signed and authenticated. Your dad actually tears up.

Your mom opens her gift next, despite protesting again that Max shouldn't have gotten them anything. She unwraps a beautiful pair of earrings.

"Oh, Max," she whispers, "This is beautiful."

Ruby, who has been surprisingly patient, tugs at Max's sleeve. "Can we do my princess breakfast now?"

"After we finish presents," you laugh. "And maybe we should have real breakfast first?"

"But I'm a princess now," she declares. "Princesses have special breakfast times."

Your mom shakes her head fondly. "How about pancakes fit for a princess?"

"With chocolate chips?" Ruby negotiates.

"With chocolate chips," your mom confirms. "Max, honey, how do you like your pancakes?"

"However they're made is perfect," he assures her, but your mom is already heading to the kitchen, muttering about making sure she has enough chocolate chips.

Your dad finally finds his voice again. "Max, this is too much…"

"It's not," Max says firmly. "You're… you're family now. Or at least, I hope…"

He glances at you meaningfully, making your heart skip a beat.

Later, after pancakes and multiple princess dress changes from Ruby, you manage to steal some time alone with Max in your favorite spot on the back porch. The morning sun has warmed the air slightly, but there's still a crisp winter chill that gives you an excuse to stay close to him.

"Your turn," Max says softly, pulling out a small wrapped box from his pocket.

Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a velvet jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace with two intertwined pendants - a heart and a tiny racing helmet.

"Max," you breathe, touching the pendants gently. "It's beautiful."

"Look at the back," he says quietly, his voice carrying a note of nervousness you rarely hear.

You turn the heart over to find an engraving: "You're my biggest victory. -MV"

"I love you," you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if you're the most precious thing in his world.

When you finally part, you hand him your gift - a wrapped box that makes him raise his eyebrows at the weight.

Inside, he finds a handmade scrapbook filled with your personal moments - sneaky paddock kisses, quiet mornings at home, victory celebrations, and candid moments no one else has seen. The final page holds a photo from yesterday - Max on the floor with Ruby, both laughing during their third viewing of Frozen.

"This is…" he starts, voice thick with emotion.

"Wait," you say softly, reaching into your pocket. You pull out a key on a simple keychain. "I thought… maybe… if you wanted…"

"Move in with you?" he finishes, breaking into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your heart race. "Yes. Absolutely yes."

He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other holds the key carefully.

"MAX!" Ruby's voice carries from inside. "I need help with my Cinderella shoes! And then we have to build a snowman! A FROZEN snowman!"

You both laugh against each other's lips.

"Duty calls, Elsa," you tease.

"Only if you'll be my Olaf," he grins, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips.

"Always," you promise, letting him lead you back inside where Ruby waits, already changed into her third princess dress of the morning.

Your dad catches your eye as you pass, "If you don't marry this boy," he whispers, "I will."

"Dad!"

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, then heads outside to join the snowman-building committee.

Your mom appears at your other side, wrapping an arm around you. "He's right, you know. He's perfect for you."

You lean your head on her shoulder, watching Max let Ruby direct him on where to place the snowman's arms. "I know," you smile. "I know."

"Best Christmas ever?" she asks softly.

Looking at your family, and Max in the middle of it all, belonging there like he's always been part of it - you smile.

"Best Christmas ever," you agree.

[bodhiscurls]

my heart races for you, doc. ( johnny storm )

reed richards brings in an old family friend to help make sense of their new powers. johnny storm can deny that he's been trying extra hard for you to look his way all he likes. brushing his hand against yours at dinner, bumping into you outside your opposite rooms- purely accidental. but when you've got him hooked to a monitor and his heart beats double the usual, he can't hide what he feels anymore.

human torch! johnny storm x scientist fem! reader (no use of yn, johnny calls you doc)

themes: fluff, strangers to lovers, swearing, johnny being a golden retriever, flirting, YEARNING, pining (no spoilers!)

masterlist.

susan storm has never really been nervous.

she commands a different kind of respect, the air sort of shifts its way around her and she doesn't need a force field to take control. she just does- and its that unintentional aura that attracted her husband to her at the very beginning. so why was she staring at your door so damn intently.

"who's the new neighbour," johnny sneaks up behind her and she lets out a startled gasp, shooting her brother a death glare of annoyance as her hand comes to rest on her chest patting it gently, counting her heartbeats to calm her down.

"how many times have i told you not to do that," she daggers towards him and he kisses her cheek loudly, grinning as she wipes it straight off of her cheek.

"who's the new neighbour," ben joins them in an instant and johnny scoffs at the repetition, an obvious retort ready to rile him up before sue places a hand in the air in warning. he bites back his laughter instead, planning on using his ragebait later with the stony look ben sends him and swings on his feet.

"but seriously," johnny asks, "new neighbour?" and sue nods slowly.

"a family friend of reed's, she's here to help us," she explains slowly.

"help us?" he furrows his brows, "so why are you looking at the door like it's going to eat you up sis," and she elbows him, causing him to stumble back a few feet wincing in pain.

"because," she sternly reprimands, "she is important to reed, so she is important to us." and johnny lights up at the pronoun use; its simple really, johnny loves space, johnny loves women. and a slow grin spreads all over his face.

"so how come we've never heard of this hottie before," he leans his arm against your door frame as he faces his sister and friend, "reeds never mentioned a family friend?" he quizzes, suddenly curious.

"you've not even seen her-" johnny cuts ben off with a raise of his brows immediately, "um, all women are hot, next question," and when sue shoots his a warning glance

"she's reed's family! no one is to mess with her," the warning is deathly and johnny nods in submission but he can't help but feel the buzz of excitement sift through his veins, roar amongst his blood and send him stumbling backwards as your door opens.

he recovers quickly, dusting his hands off in nonchalance and leans back into the frame effortlessly. he opens his mouth to speak, but for the first time in his entire life johnny storm is stumped, stunned to the core where the words are there but they never come.

not when you're standing milimetres infront of him, sleep wrinkled across your features and the soft curves of your eyes as you slowly blink at the three gathered at your door. you stretch, and johnny observes how feline your movements seem, tensing as you try and release a knot in your shoulder blades before straightening slightly.

"hi," sue gathers herself quickly, shooting you an apologetic look as she steps forward, she wraps you into a hug and its stiff- like she isn't sure this is appropriate but any family of reed's is a family of hers and she's desperate to make a good impression on you.

"hello?" it comes out as a question, lower pitched rumbled from the sheets and its the first time johnny hears your voice. he's sure in that moment he's flown through different universes and has landed in the next life, at the gates of heaven where nothing but blinding light and you engulf him. his sister pulls back after you awkwardly pat her back and johnny clicks his knuckles, a grin painted on his face as he steps forward,

"my turn-" and he's instantly dragged back by his sister.

"sorry about him," she apologises, "he isn't usually this-"

"handsome? charming? incredibly sexy?" he supplies and sue shoves him out of your peripheral.

"i was going to say annoying," she rolls her eyes, "but i don't think that's true that's johnny and he's always annoying, and i'm-"

"sue," you finish politely, "reed has mentioned much about you," and you send her a soft tired smile, she returns it bigger and larger and you're immediately hit with all the reasons why reed fell in love with her; she's unreal.

she looks like she wants to say more, apologise for disturbing you; she just wanted to make a good first impression before they all met you properly at sunday dinner but as usual, her brother and best friend had found a way to ambush her plans. she looks over at you but you're looking intently at ben, a sense of hesitation mixed with fondness laced in those kind eyes and she sees your hand is outstretched to him.

"hi," your voice is quieter and you offer it to him, ben hides his hand behind his back. the heavy weight a stark comparison to the soft skin you're holding out and he's worried he'll hurt you. yet, you stand, unwavering and patient with the same hand extended. its moments before he lifts his own to meet yours and its hard, rough and he has half a mind to pull back but you're gripping it firmly in reassurance. "hi," he returns back with a smile and you nod.

"it's just like you're saving best for last huh," and the flash of blonde hair makes an intimate appearance in your space again. you shoot him a look of inquisition, concocted with curiosity and then hold out your hand to him as well.

johnny storm is smug as he takes in your welcome, his hand unbelievably warm against yours, he hopes you can feel the heat he purposefully sends across the sensation as it tickles your skin. and when he wraps his in yours, a perfect fit, he brings the interlock to his lips, pressing a feather like touch to your knuckles. the kiss is barely there, but it is and it sends a pool of warmth straight to your head. you feel the heat crumble down to your neck and burn a pink into your ears as you flush under his attention.

"oh boy," ben mumbles and johnny shoots you a lazy flirtatious wink and in your sleep induced haze you just stand there, unsure of what to do. the flash of ocean blue twinkles with mischief and a promise of light-hearted fun, and it wakens you a fraction more.

"and on that note," sue interrupts the stumbling of your heartbeat as it knocks against your spine, "we shall leave you, dinner in a few hours! please join us!" and she drags her brother away in an instant, but his eyes never leave yours and you know now why reed referred to him as the human torch:

johnny storm has stolen your heart and set it alight.

. . .

johnny storm has it all set up meticulously, his seat is positioned right next to yours for dinner after tirelessly arguing and ignoring the warning looks his sister sends his way. he sets them closer than the chairs on the opposite side so when you are to sit, all he has to do is lean a little and you're at his side. its a perfect plan, one he takes with great pride as he indulges with reed into a very light interrogation on you to give him some talking points for the evening.

he learns many things, for one you have a phd in bio engineering, reed was flush with praise for your intellect, groundbreaking research and the years you spent on the opposite side of the world, taking part in research studied in london. he also learns that you're a family friend of reed's by some distant cousin relationship- though the love for science and funerals of the richards bloodline have brought you together closer than ever.

he also learns that you can play the piano, you're introverted, you love the ocean and reed had promised to take you to a beach sometime soon. you don't have much family other than reed and you're favourite food is anything roasted. which is perfect given sunday's dinner is a roasted chicken with stuffed potatoes and vegetables with a side of lightly spiced rice and ben's killer cheese and potato pie.

johnny learns a few things about himself that night too. how something in him dangerously melts as he watches you murmur a thanks of appreciation to ben, at the soft look of adoration in your eyes when you watch sue and reed. how he gets weirdly protective when you don't speak unless spoken to but each and every breath that leaves your pretty lips snags his attention, causing him to silence the little conversations between his family so they can all hear what you have to say.

he finds himself wanting to talk more around- more than usual. he asks about your time in london, which you smile like it's a distant memory, he asks about your current research and how you're going to be monitoring them for your study- and johnny learns that its sly what he's doing, but when waits for you to reach over for the serving spoon, he does it too at a lightning speed.

in a milisecond, your hands touch again and johnny doesn't need to flame on to feel the heat. he does it on purpose to watch that cute blush paint your cheeks as you shrink a little inwards to yourself. he shoots you a wide grin as he pours your plate for you, murmuring a gentle "eat up" into your hair when he leans back- the breath tickling your skin in ways you cannot focus on completely.

and when he watches you and reed laugh and joke, he has no problem settling into the back, blurring into the furniture- not when he gets to watch you all night long.

. . .

he makes his first official attack when he plans to leave his room at the same time as you for breakfast, bumping into you slightly and definitely not by accident.

an apology slips from your lips and he's also blessed with a giggle as you try and dodge him, work around him to get out of his way but his movements mimic yours in a lighthearted dance of some sorts. he takes advantage, slipping his hands on your waist and positioning you in tje right direction. johnny's careful to make his movements fleeting, not lingering as long as he'd like in case you'd catch onto his ruse and sends you a soft smile before gesturing for you to leave first.

he follows you to the kitchen where he tries to make small conversation, "how'd you sleep?" he asks, hopeful.

"really well, thank you," your eyes fold into a gorgeous smile and he feels his heart race, "probably the best i have in years,"

"oh wow," he grins, "such a stellar rating, you got enough energy to get started for today then?" and you nod in excitement and he feels ten years just lift off his body, "what's the agenda for today?"

"first, i've got to just run some tests, try and get an idea of what's your new normal so it'll just be stuff like heart rate, resting energy, sleep patterns, try and focus a little more on your cellular reactions and for each of you it'll be different but we have to do start small with comparisons first so a lot of testing i guess?" you raise your eyebrows and it's the most he's heard you speak at once. he doesn't understand anything you've said, nodding eagerly as he tries not to focus on how it would feel if he could just press his lips to yours.

johnny storm has never been one to wait; he's bounced from woman to woman, he's never so much as had a relationship but there's something so magnetic about you that has johnny reducing his speed, sticking to a singular lane and waiting his whole life you if he'll have to. just your smile can instill that much patience in him.

"science stuff," he murmurs to himself but you catch it nonetheless and send a blinding smile of pure sunshine his way, "cool," he almost stutters, his heart most definitely skipping a few beats.

he sits again close next to you at breakfast, trying to remember to take his eyes off of you every now and then and eat his own food. he ignores the laughter ben sends him and the hidden smiles sue keeps locked away and just chews. you must've not realised it, but you've reached for his cup instead of your own, sipping the orange juice inches away from where his mouth had been before. it's an honest mistake but johnny leans back in his chair with a smirk, that could've been a kiss. his brain sends a jolt of realisation through his body and the smirk slows into a smile.

oh god, he thinks. he's in fucking deep.

. . .

he finally gets caught.

and he didn't ever think, he'd be so literally caught too.

you have him hooked up to a monitor, just recording usual observations when you look up from your notes for a single second, send him a reassuring smile before his heart combusts and your jaw drops slack.

"oh my god," you whisper, eyebrows narrowing in confusion as you stare up at the monitor in awe.

"gotta say," he laughs awkwardly, "you're scaring me a little doc, what's going on?"

"johnny you are four times the average pulse rate, jesus," you gasp. you look at the machine in disbelief, then back st him, then at the machine and he bites back a laugh.

"doc, i am an overachiever," he excuses and leans a little bit more into the chair, relaxing as he relishes in the attention as you fuss over him. this is easy, he thinks, he doesn't even have to try to get your attention today.

and when the back of your hand comes to press against his forehead, the monitor beeps even more obnoxiously and at the contact johnny panicks- he can't have you know already how he feels for you, he's moving a little too quick and the last thing he wants to do is come on strong and scare you off. he tries breath work, one in and two out, he thinks of happy thoughts- calm thoughts- thoughts of you when he catches you half asleep and head to the kitchen for some water; a lazy cute slumbering mess. but with your palm touching him, fuck, he can't control it.

"johnny," you breathe, and he closes his eyes at the sound of his name; oh it feels like heaven and he imagines how it would sound under him in the middle of the night, how it would sound when he finally gets the chance to kiss you, how it'll sound fifty years from now when he lives forever at your side, "johnny you're on fire!" you panic but his eyes are closed into a dream of bliss- dreams of you.

"thanks, doll," he lazily smirks and you bite your lip in panic.

"that wasn't a compliment!" you rush, "you're actually on fire!" and he opens his eyes, sees the concern swim in yours and focuses real hard and deep. you've removed your hands from him at the first signs of scorching and without the closeness, it doesn't take johnny long to return to his resting state.

"fuck," he mumbles at the loss of control and you murmur in agreement, breathless at the sudden escalation. you scribble down a few notes before removing the equipment from him. it's a second where your fingers overlap and the obnoxious beeping starts all over.

he watches you pause in thought, remove your hand and record the slower rate, then watches you place your hand back ontop of his- covering a little more than the accidental touch, a lot more purposeful and the instant racing starts again.

"oh," you whisper softly and johnny tries to be light-hearted about this and laugh offhandedly, but when the embarrassment creeps in at having his crush bared open for you to see and his ears tinge a rosy pink, there's nothing casual in the way he feels about you.

"what can i say doc?" he smiles nervously, "i guess the heart races just for you," and you don't respond immediately, sort of soaking up the intensity of the atmosphere but johnny can spot the small grin sporting your lips and returns it a million times more.

"i think," he tries to get up slowly and you help him steady on your feet, "it's time to get something to eat, you gonna join me doc?" and you do.

you follow him into lazy mornings wrapped up in each other, dinner for two and days of where johnny storm makes you feel like the most important person in his life. one things for sure, those cosmic rays may have altered his dna, but he's sure that they've only just made more room in his heart, stretched out in the shape of you.

riya saying hi: hi !!! (very much longer today i apologise omg) but god i love a little flirty but patient johnny x introverted reader theres something so cute about yearning and opposites attracting, hope you guys enjoy this one- i really had fun with this! thanks a bunch love u 🥺💘

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! 💘

[sageofunknownwisdom]

A/N: tw, this shit is literally just thirsting. i love phainon guys, yall would need the help of the whole tarot club to get me off this man. pls be aware this is NSFW work. also idk how ro add those pretty ahh tumblr border so u gotta bear w me here okay. idk how tumblr fkin works. love yall, peace and love fr. 💗 ALSO THIS IS JUST SOME BUM ASS DRABBLE THAT I MADE UNDER 40 MINS WHILE WATCHING PHAINON EDITS, DONT JUDGE ME.

lowkey thinking about omegaverse au! phainon…

he'd be the best alpha ever. i don't think i even need to elaborate on this but i will.

let's get this straight, he's an alpha. no, i will not be taking any arguments on this.

he's clingy and…a sniffer. as funny as that sounds, it's the best way to describe him. phainon sleeps with his face safely tucked under your chin, as close as possible to your scent glands. he can't sleep properly without your scent enveloping him.

phainon would have the most homey scent ever. instead of it being musky and domineering like the usual alpha pheromones, it's just subtle and fresh. i fully believe he'd smell like fresh sheets and citrus.

this man is also a licker! you can call him a mutt all you want but that doesn't stop him from kissing and making out with your neck every time you're alone. it's hard to tell what he has in store for you, it's a phainon roulette (LMAO). sometimes he's cheeky and teasing, lifting you up and twirling you around. other times he's soft and clingy, whining and pouting whenever you try to break out from his infamous bear hugs. there's also the very rare occasions where he's a little more quiet than usual, resting his head on your thighs– please hold him tight during these moments, caress his cheeks and whisper love confessions like a corny eight-grader. he needs it.

everyone else is sick and tired of him and his PDA, it's not even the suggestive kind, he's just so clingy that it looks like he's trying to fuse himself with you through his hugs (is he secretly an octopus? a crystal gem…?). speaking of hugs, his favorite cuddle position is when you're on his lap and he's hugging you from the back, nuzzling his face on your neck.

phainon is a pathetic ass alpha. i kid you not, mydeimos looks at him like he's possessed whenever you're nearby ‘cause your man switched from ragebaiting asshole to your husband™️ in seconds. it's like seeing a misbehaving kid acting all angel-like after beating someone to a pulp.

“oh is mydei too chicken? hm? acting all high and mighty but cowering from a simple match.” phainon's annoying fuckass voice is literally the worst noise to hear when it's 90 celsius outside and the bugs are buzzing a little too loud for mydei's liking.

he's gonna bash the guy's head one day, mydei just knows it. matter of fact, the rock on the ground looks awfully enchanting today.

before he could become a potential killer of the chrysos heir, your voice called out to them.

“phai! mydei!”

phainon's shit eating grin disappeared from his face, facing you with open arms and a gummy smile that only a man so utterly gone for his mate could ever give. mydei had a look of genuine horror on his face as phainon pecks your lips and giggles when you pat his head.

“i was going to ask if you wanted to have lunch with me.” you smile, letting your overgrown samoyed use your body as a plushie, squeezing and holding you close without shame.

“great timing, i haven't eaten yet.” (yes he did, mydeimos would've quipped if he wasn't horrified) phainon hums, taking your hand in his, “let's go to our usual place! i heard they added something new to the menu. we can try it out together.”

“mydei, you should come too.” you turn to mydeimos who was silently watching the scene with a troubled expression.

as he was about to answer (it was a no), phainon chuckled from behind you. “he's very busy. our dear mydei here actually has plans of his own, being a prince and all.”

mydeimos huffs, “as he said. i'm afraid i won't be able to join you two.”

with a nod, phainon whisks you away. hands resting on your waist as he talks your ear off before you could even say a proper goodbye to mydeimos.

now, mydei might’ve smelled it wrong. but phainon's pheromones smelled a little burnt when you suggested he join your lunch date. he might have also seen your white-haired mate's eyes flicker into gold, smile twitching as he eyes mydei down like a threat.

or maybe he was just…seeing things. (he wasn't but mydei isn't ready to open that can of worms yet)

phainon's definitely that one kid in aedes elysiae that made all younger kids want to be an omega just so they could get with him (they're children, they think alphas should only be with omegas and vise versa) but he'd be clueless to it all.

most adults in the village were trying to set him up with their omega daughters. while those with alpha sons kept on comparing them to phainon, “look at khaslana, already so strong and tall. very respectful too! unlike my son who only waves his alpha status around, making other children run away.”

phainon was the resident big brother, always so polite and kind. ready to carry a grandmother's fruit basket, play with younger children, and help other alphas with labor ‘cause apparently, he wants to grow up big and strong just like the other alphas of his village (everyone crooned at the young boy's statement, a warm smile on his lips). another thing…his mom was the alpha btw, not gonna elaborate on that part. his dad is a beta.

honestly, if it weren't for his body, some may have mistaken him for an omega. he's so pretty that it hurts you (and me).

although phainon is your sweetheart who laughs and smiles like the sun, he's still very much a predator. he's much more territorial than one might think, phainon acts easy-going and laid-back but it's really just a facade for the scorching emotions that get amplified when it's about you. it's always you. you. you. and you. phainon can't help it when you're this loveable, it's like an obsession almost.

don't be surprised if your darling puppy becomes a starved wolf when it's his rut. you are not going anywhere, okay? stay right beside him where he can see you, hear you, and smell you.

of course, he's all about consent, phainon is well aware of his…more intense than normal carnal desires. if you don't want to handle it then you don't have to. phainon has spent years making do with his hands and fantasies about you, if he can kiss and cherish you as his then phainon doesn't mind making more depraved imaginary situations in his head as he mounts the poor pillow with frenzied thrusts. doesn't mind spilling load after load into cotton sheets while you're smiling happily and chatting with your friends somewhere in the city.

if you do decide to offer yourself, phainon the gentleman that he is would probably decline a few times. just keep reaching out, he'll break pretty soon. just…don't expect to leave his room for a couple of days. (you are soo lucky his personal residence is a good distance from any neighborhoods or else you would've gotten several noise complaints.)

on your heats (if you're an omega) and when he isn't lost in his head due to ruts, he'd be such a service dom. i just know it bro, trust me trust me. this man eats you out like he's dying of thirst. it's a little messy, and he's drooling as if he's the one getting off from it. he's so whiny during this too, always asking you to press your thighs a little tighter. oh great kephale, save this man. (or you can save him yourself by sitting on his face, he can cum just from that)

shiii, you know what– he's totally down to being messed up by you too. although he prefers making you gush all over him, if you beg prettily enough then maaaybee phainon would let you ride him until his eyes are hazy and his legs are shaking. if you're a guy, go on and ask him if you could dick him down too, phainon would probably feel a little hesitant but let's be honest here: if you told him to jump off a cliff, he would.

also yes, he's into breeding you. doesn't matter if you top or you don't want kids, just let him stuff you with cum, please. phainon gets really giddy whenever he hears you praise him during sex, you could moan about him being a good boy as he's quite literally jack hammering himself into your warmth and he'd still whine as he's thanking you.

sigh...i love my wife.

[digiflora]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘!

ꪆৎ choso ⸝⸝ sukuna ⸝⸝ gojo ⸝⸝ ino wc.

summary. life as a streamer creates all sorts of potential interactions- whether between other creatives, or just some random person in a csgo lobby...

contains! ꪆৎ streamer au ⸝⸝ cosplayer reader (choso) ⸝⸝ some suggestiveness + downbadness lmfao ⸝⸝ nerdjo my beloved

𐔌 gia's notes! ☆⌒(ゝ。∂) woioi chat. i've been on such a 2020 first lockdown nostalgic kick recently im ngl... hence the title of this fic LOL. and lowkey the content too 😞 you can kinda tell that i ran out of steam while writing this... but o well

streamer!choso [@/ch0k4m0] who is relatively well known- technically, for his gaming abilities, though what solidified his online fame was his rather candid commentary, with seemingly no filter between his thoughts and the words that come out of his mouth. that, and his looks which had broken the internet when he had face revealed, catapulting him from a fairly unknown but well loved streamer to regularly getting hundreds of thousands of views on his streams.

his current streams mostly consisted of him working his way through resident evil. viewers could expect to see a decent progression within each stream due to choso not being completely useless at playing the game, alongside his dumb comments diminishing the fear factor of the franchise ever so slightly. and of course, his ever so subtle crush on the character ada wong.

'chat oh my GOD i've never been so in love with some pixels before'

'ada baby please, just one chance. i know that i'm 3d and you're 2d but we'll make it work'

every time a cutscene of her plays, there's an absolute torrent of messages and donations teasing him for his poorly hidden crush, ones that choso takes the time to properly read through during his breaks in the stream. such an occasion happens now, with choso reading out some random comments when a new donation rings out, the text to speech voice that comes with it bearing a demand

'choso you need to look up this account RIGHT NOW and look at the video they just posted'

his brow furrows as he reads the username, deliberating on whether he should actually follow those instructions or if his viewer was just trying to mess with him. ultimately, he conceded to his chat's wishes and opened a new browser window, typing it in.

a mere few hours later after the stream, you found your notifications to be blowing up more than usual. you had posted a new cosplay video earlier today, but even then there was a little TOO many notifications to be your usual audience. you noticed that you had been tagged in an edit, inclining you to click on that before wading through the likes and comments. every time that you received one it was a special kind of joy, with the knowledge that someone enjoyed your cosplays enough to inspire them to make something. you hear the music begin to fade in once the edit loads, though the intro clip has you confused as you don't think that you've seen it before.

obviously, you recognise choso, the handsome and funny streamer who got really popular recently, and one that you have unfortunately joined many others in appointing as your resident e-crush. you weren't big on watching streams, but every time a clip of choso appears when you scroll, you can't help but watch the whole thing, partially for its entertainment value, and partially because of just how cute the guy looked on your phone screen.

so really, it was quite the surreal experience to hear your username fall from his lips as the clip plays on your phone, and you watch the edit in disbelief

'am i spelling this right, chat?'

'and the latest video, right- oh it's, holy fuck-"

the beat then kicks in. clips of your ada wong cosplay flashing across the screen, one final flashbang of choso's face as he watches your video with an almost comical expression of awe. you're left absolutely flabbergasted as the video begins to loop, clicking on the comments to see what the hell was going on

'get in damn line choso 😩'

'BROOOODJFNSJG I WAS WATCHING THE STREAM AND I JUST KNEWWWWW SOMEONE WAS GONNA MAKE AN EDIT WITH THAT CLIP 😭😭😭'

'the stream was like 2 hours ago this edit was so fast wtf'

'it should have been meeeeeee ughhh'

'the way choso scrolled thru her ENTIRE account and then followed her... that man's finally got a crush on a real personnnnn'

that last comment captures your attention specifically, and sure enough, you see his username amongst your many new followers. it pays to get noticed by a popular streamer, you suppose.

and then, to your utmost surprise, you also see his name pop up within your dm requests

@/ch0k4mo: sooo are you in need of a leon kennedy by any chance

the dm isn't exactly suave, but it has its intended effect as you blink at your screen as you process it, finally letting out a squeal of excitement, screenshotting the message shamelessly. your friends are not gonna believe this. and then, only after running laps around your room and waiting for your erratic heartrate to return to a normal tempo, you type out a shaky response.

@/yn: funny that you ask that, cos i had a few video ideas in mind ;)

you can only hope that on the other end of the line, choso is having a somewhat similar reaction to yours.

streamer!sukuna [@/kingkuna] who is notorious for causing chaos online, whether on fps games such as cs and valorant, or even on the more inane roblox games where he makes a living off of terrorising little kids. actions speak louder than words, though the streamer is quick to utilise both when instilling terror on whichever server has the misfortune of having him

'i do this for the love of the game, chat'

'well, that, and because bullying little runts is fun'

all of these actions, streamed live every wednesday and friday, helped to garner sukuna a rather.... distinct reputation.

despite being considered an asshole for all intents and purposes, sukuna had somehow amassed a following, all from his persona of being an online troll.

so this week's particular stream was especially shocking to his fans for all of the wrong reasons.

it started off like any other stream, sukuna casually reading off the odd message in his chat whilst preparing for the stream, retorting some snarky comment that has the chat getting more and more riled up, all with a shit-eating grin on his face.

it was more or less a love-hate relationship between him and his chat, though everyone seemed happy with the dynamic, expecting no less from the streamer.

this stream in particular was particularly anticipated, if the steadily increasing viewcount in the corner was anything to go off of, probably due to the fact that this wasn't quite like his other streams. despite the countless hours of his content, very little was known about sukuna, and as a 1 million subscriber goal, the man had acquiesced to people's demands for a q&a.

it started off as well as it could have, with rather generic questions rolling out. but of course, knowing sukuna's audience (and his lenient moderators), some raunchier ones started to worm their way through

'does it... jiggle when i walk? mods, get this clown out of here'

sukuna rattles through the questions, his fans clearly revelling in his embarrassing childhood stories, in the knowledge that his hair is not dyed, and how he views his streams as training to continue defeating his nephew in fortnite whenever they play together.

and then, finally, the fated question

'kingkuna i have to know for all the ladies out there... do u have a gf??'

it's a special donation message, one that rattles off loud and clear in a way that absolutely cannot be missed, though with the amount of time it takes for him to respond, he may as well have.

'hm, wouldn't you like to know?'

there's a torrent of outraged messages, before a deep booming laugh emits from the man.

'ehhh, i'm just fucking with you. of course i do, she's my forever girl.'

there's another torrent of messages in chat, though they're now oohing and ahhing at just how uncharacteristically sweet the streamer is being. his eyes flit over the incoming messages, his grin widening as his gaze lifts to somewhere beyond the webcam's reach.

there's a silent exchange, no words needed before sukuna reclines back in his chair, his legs spreading as he makes room for whoever's coming into frame.

'she's right here, too. everyone say hi to y/n'

and when she situates herself right on his lap and his arm wraps around her waist, the chat goes crazy. the streamer seems to remember his regular image, cackling at the desperate onslaught of messages eager to get even a morsel of information about the two of you, instead starting to click away at the preparations needed before he ends the stream

'oh would you look at the time, looks like i'll be having to end the stream now. see you suckers on wednesday'

'byeeeee!'

you can't help but chime in, giggling and waving right at the camera before the stream shuts off, and you feel sukuna begin to truly relax into his chair, shuffling you impossibly closer to his chest, hugging you to him and burying his face against you.

'aww, you big baby'

'dunno what you're talking about'

you giggle at your boyfriend's antics, though definitely used to them by now. instead, you get comfy, letting sukuna use you as his personal pillow as you card through his hair with one hand, the other unlocking your phone and you begin to scroll through twitter. #kingkuna1m was already trending thanks to the premise of his livestream, and you can't help but click on the tag, looking through some of the most recent tweets.

'never would i EVER have expected SUKUNA of all ppl to be relationship goals'

'praying on his downfall fr 🙏🙏🙏 he doesn't know how good he has it'

'he's so EVIL for ending the stream like that omfg'

'the way he looks at her IM SICKKKKK ☹️☹️☹️☹️'

that last one comes with a video, a hasty screen recording of those last few moments of the stream as you wave at the camera, though you're focusing on the shamelessly lovestruck expression on sukuna's face as he watches you. it's enough to have you giggling and kicking your feet right in his lap, and he grumbles, his spare hand catching onto your flailing ankle

'quit squirming, brat'

'but you're just so cute, kunaaa'

you show him your phone screen, and it's your turn to study his face as he looks at the video impassively, though he can't hide the little twitch of his lips.

'my camera must be faulty, gotta get a new one'

streamer!gojo [@/sago] who is affectionately known by his fans for being a big fat nerd. it's not like he tries to hide it, the background of his setup decorated avidly with all sorts of posters and memorabilia from his favourite shows and games. compared to other streamers, too, gojo wasn't one to particularly shy away from details of his personal life, his laidback and easygoing persona making it easy for people to become regular viewers of his streams.

on said streams it was commonplace for his chat to ask him questions about himself, and more often than not he would give them an answer- and on one of these such occasions is when he let slip the fact that he had a roommate. and that in itself isn't anything too worldbreaking to hear, but it's the way he almost lights up as he mentions your name that has his fans intrigued.

even more interesting is gojo's reluctance, for lack of a better word, about relinquishing more information about you. how quick he is to change the subject, or act as if he never read the original message at all.

and in an impressive effort which has the streisand effect in strong contention to be renamed to the gojo effect, this only further instils a need for his fans to know everything that they possibly could about you.

it's arguably one of his most well-loved bits with an incredibly long longevity, with a large amount of fanmade compilations of him at least alluding to it

'who's my roommate? i'll let you know when i find out'

'come back with a warrant, fed'

'that's some very personal information there which i would be hesitant to spread online. what do you MEAN i was telling you all about where i grew up 2 minutes ago-'

(you get the picture)

therefore, it's a rare and delightful treat whenever a new tidbit about you is let slip by the streamer. the day that your name got accidentally revealed by him on stream was a day for the books. and of course, since gojo's fans were deranged, your insta account and subsequent face reveal were soon to follow.

and once the cat was out of the bag, gojo seemed to begrudgingly relax about your secrecy. you started popping up in streams a bit more often, usually just a face peeking in to the room of gojo's setup, a sneaky wave that satoru would notice later and grin to himself about. he's got a highlight reel of your appearances on his twitch profile that he likes to rewatch more than he cares to admit.

one time, he even had you sat next to him during a just chatting stream, the two of you shooting the shit. his fans were quick to point out how red the tips of his ears were throughout the whole stream. and how he looked at you like you hung the moon and stars whenever you spoke. and how he kept looking at you like that even when you weren't speaking.

it was never official, but satoru's feelings for you were.. rather obvious to anyone with the time to tune in to his streams. his touchiness regarding you seemed to make a lot more sense now, and became the newest aspect of satoru's life for his chat to ruthlessly mock.

today was just a regular stream- some mindless shooter game that satoru was way too invested in, no mentions or guest appearances of you. until now.

the door opened in the background of the stream- satoru's eyes flick up just before the door even moves, as if he had a sixth sense just for you- and you storm into the room, closer to annoyed than your usual cheery self.

'toru, you forgot to take out the bins. they're being collected tomorrow so don't leave it too late

and just like that, you're gone again. there's not even an ounce of hesitation before satoru is getting up from his desk, headphones coming off despite the yells of his teammates for him to stop fucking around and help them rush a.

chat is making their usual comments, a spam of their love for you and excitement that you've made an appearance. a few keener watchers were geeking over the toru nickname that's sure to make their way into the next y/n and gojo compilation video.

and despite all of this, satoru's heading out of the room.

'my girl's mad at me guys, i gotta go fix it'

and he's only gone for a few minutes, at most. but it's like an implosion of oncoming messages, all scrolling past his screen with no eyes to see them.

gojospinkietoe: FIRST TORU THEN MY GIRL!!!???? OHHHH MY GOD 🥺🥺🥺

iwatchmen: the gojoyn fans are gonna loveeee this

gojoyn5evrrr: SOMEONE CLIP THAT

funnily enough, satoru doesn't even realise the slipup until he's almost back to his room. at least he can blame the blush this time on having to have gone outside very briefly.

it's not exactly the same as his usual slipups when it comes to you- usually, there's at least an element of truth to them, but this appears to be sourced from somewhere deeper in his brain, a lot more of a subconscious desire that he hoped wouldn't breach into the conscious realm.

not until he was ready, at least.

streamer!ino [@/yunglean4ever] who's more of an up and coming streamer.. but he's slowly and steadily making his way up the rankings!! his game of choice is usually an fps, with his default usually being csgo. or something like that. he enjoys the straightforward nature of it. and teabagging his opponents when he's in the mood to be a little shit.

during these livestreams he's met many a different player, some friendlier than the regular silence or automatic irritated mood that most seemed to have- or some russian guy screaming words into the mic that was anyone's guess as to what it meant.

and while interacting with said teammates is always a promising aspect of entertainment, ino wasn't one to remember most of these interactions, save for a few especially distinct ones.

one such occasion is when he meets you. you've got your mic on, which is always more appealing for ino than having to communicate via typing or reading chats, and even better is the almost instant connection that the two of you make. you giggle at his silly username, he indignantly defends his love for drain gang, and the rest is history.

one match played together turns into a friend request, which turns into becoming a party, which turns into playing duos, which turns into goving each other your discords, which turns into many more rounds which extend way after ino ends his stream.

it was merely a start to this new... something, but with the way that ino caught himself laughing a little too hard at your mildly funny jokes, he had a feeling that it would turn into something much more.

so when he boots up his pc the next day, it's not much surprise to him that there's some giddy emotion that he feels when he says a message from you

'wanna play? had a lot of fun last night w u :D'

he couldn't type out a response fast enough to contain his excitement.

⋆˚࿔ jjk masterlist

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ... or, try reading hopelessly devoted to you

[lacydollette]

ROUGH SEX WITH YOUR CO-STAR ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: actor!jensen x actress!reader

warnings: jensen ackles x fem!reader, actor!jensen, actress!reader, age gap, 18+, mdni, dom!jensen, sub!reader, oral (male receiving), forced blow job, hair pulling, choking, p in v (unprotected), praise kink, jensen being freaky asf, wc: 3.8k

The sound of laughter and music filled the bar as you and cast of The Boys gathered around the table, enjoying a rare evening off after a whirlwind of interviews, conventions, and press events promoting the new season. You sat near the edge of the group, a glass of wine in your hand as you watched the scene unfold. You’d been on the road with them for two weeks now, traveling from state to state to promote the show, and despite the exhausting schedule, nights like this made it all worth it.

Especially with your costar Jensen sitting just across the table, his smile lighting up the room, making everyone around him feel at ease. And despite your usual calm aura, he could tell you were taking it all in, probably still adjusting to the chaotic rhythm of show business.

You had joined the cast as the newest love interest for Soldier Boy, Jensen's character, and while you’d been nervous about working with such an established actor— he quickly made you feel comfortable. He was kind, funny, and despite being almost fifteen years older than you, he never treated you like the "new girl."

When you’d first started working together, Jensen was like a mentor to you but soon enough,m he found himself noticing more than just your talent. While you also found yourself noticing things about him—like the way he smiled at you when you two ran lines together or how his hand would linger just a little longer on your arm when you wrapped a scene.

And then, of course, there was the fact that you found him undeniably attractive. Everyone knew Jensen was good-looking, but up close? It was something else entirely. You’d kept it professional, though. He'd just come off a divorce, and the last thing you wanted was to complicate things for him or yourself. Still, there was no denying the chemistry between you two, both on-screen and off. And Jensen wasn't oblivious to the tension that had developed between you over the last few weeks either..

"Hey, y/n," Jensen called from across the table, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was leaning forward, his voice cutting through the laughters around you. "You've been quiet tonight. Everything okay?" You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, just still getting used to it." Jensen grinned, his eyes glistening in the dim light. "You sure? We've got drinks, great company. Seems like a perfect night to me."

You chuckled, sipping your wine to hide the fact that your heart had started beating just a little faster. He'd been like this all night—talkative, laughing easily, and more physical than usual. His hand had brushed your arm more than once when you talked, and every time, your skin began to burn—in a good way.

As the night wore on, the group started to thin out. Some of the cast heading back to the hotel, but you, Jensen, and a few others stuck around, ordering another round of drinks. The bar was cozier now, quieter, and the low lighting gave it an intimate atmosphere.

So Jensen found himself talking to you more closely, the casual distance between you shrinking without you even realizing it. "So, how are you feeling about everything?" He asked, his voice low as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. "The show, all this traveling. It's a lot, huh?"

"Yeah," you admitted, meeting his gaze. "It's been amazing, though. A little surreal, honestly. Sometimes I still can't believe I'm here, working with you guys."

"Well, you're killing it," Jensen said, his eyes locking onto yours. "I mean it, y/n. You've been great this season." Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down, trying to compose yourself. "Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you."

"Don't downplay it. You're talented as hell. And...you're fun to work with. Really fun," he added, letting his words hang in the air. He hadn't meant for them to sound as loaded as they did, but now that he'd said it, he found himself holding your gaze a little longer, wondering if you’d caught the shift in his tone.

Your heart raced as you glanced up at him, trying to read his expression. Was he just being friendly? Or was there something more behind his words? "I—" you started, but the words caught in your throat. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say, or even if you should say anything at all. But it was hard to ignore the way he was looking at you, the warmth in his eyes, the subtle way his knee brushed against yours under the table.

"You know," he said, his tone lighter now, though his eyes never left yours, "I think we've spent more time together on this road trip than we did shooting the season." You laughed softly, grateful for the slight change in topic. "Yeah, but the road trip's been fun. It's nice getting to see different places, meet fans, and, you know, bond with the cast." Jensen's grin widened. "Bond, huh? Is that what we're calling it?" You laughed, clearly trying to brush off the tension. "What else would you call it?"

"Something else entirely," he said, his voice low, a hint of challenge that sent a shiver through you. Before you could respond though, Karl called over from the bar, breaking the moment. Jensen leaned back, laughing at something the others were saying, but his hand lingered on your lower arm, his thumb tracing a small, almost absent-minded circle against your skin. It was such a subtle gesture, but it sent a thrill through you.

You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on here than just casual flirting. There was tension between the two of you, a pull you couldn't ignore, and you were certain he felt it too. But as much as you wanted to explore whatever this was, you knew you had to be careful. Still, you couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered every time he looked at you. For now, you’d play it cool. But something told you that whatever was happening between you wasn't going away anytime soon.

Eventually, even the most fun nights had to end. The bar's lights dimmed and everyone decided it was time to call it a night. You all made your way back to the hotel, the cool night air helping to clear your mind, which had been buzzing with thoughts of Jensen all night. When you finally reached your room, you kicked off your shoes and put on your silk pyjamas before flopping onto the bed with a long sigh. The events of the night played in your head—Jensen's teasing remarks, the way he'd stayed close to you, how his touch lingered just a bit too long. There was definitely something there, you could feel it.

But as your thoughts swirled, you suddenly realized something. Your phone. Where was your phone? You shot up, mentally retracing your steps. Then it hit you—you’d given it to Jensen earlier in the night to hold onto because you hadn't brought a purse with you. "Dammit," you muttered, cursing yourself for forgetting. Now you’d have to go to his room and get it back. You groaned inwardly, knowing it would feel awkward after the way you’d been acting all night. But there was no way you could go to bed without your phone.

Reluctantly, you got up, slipped your shoes back on, and headed out of your room. You walked down the hallway, heart thumping a little faster than it should have. You told yourself it was just because you didn't want to bother him this late, but you knew the truth.

It was Jensen.

And the way he made you feel, had you on edge.

When you reached his door, you took a deep breath and knocked. No response. You frowned and knocked again, a little louder this time. Still nothing. You were just about to turn and head back to your room when the door swung open. And there stood Jensen, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, his hair wet and dripping from the shower. He looked at you with those piercing eyes, a playful smirk on his lips, completely unfazed by the fact that he was half-naked in front of you.

Your breath caught in your throat. God, he looked unbelievably sexy. His broad chest was still glistening with water, and your eyes instinctively trailed down over his abs to the towel hanging low on his hips. You were completely overwhelmed, mind scrambling to find words, but all you could do was stand there, staring like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Uh... I—" you stammered, trying to get rid of any filthy thoughts that were coming to you. "I need my phone... I think you have it? I gave it to you earlier at the bar." Jensen raised an eyebrow, amused by the way your cheeks flushed as he smirked. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that," he said, his voice playful. "Come on in. I think I put it on the nightstand."

You hesitated for a split second, heart hammering in your chest, but you forced yourself to move, stepping inside. The room was dimly lit, cozy, and the scent of his sweet body wash hung in the air. You tried not to focus on how close he was standing to you as you made your way to the nightstand where your phone sat.

As you reached for it, you could feel his eyes on you, the tension between you almost palpable. You picked up the phone, your hand trembling slightly, and turned to face him. He was leaning casually against the wall now, arms crossed, still wearing nothing but that damn towel. His demeanor was teasing, but there was something else in his gaze too—something that made your pulse race even faster.

"You know," Jensen said, his voice low and smooth, "you could've just called for it. Oh wait," he added with a smirk, "you didn't have your phone." You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. "Yeah, a little hard to call without it," you replied, attempting to sound nonchalant but clearly nervous.

Jensen chuckled softly, pushing off the wall and walking toward you, stopping just a few feet away. He looked down at you with that same playful glint in his eyes, the air between you thick with something unspoken. "You sure that's all you came for?" he asked, his voice dropping lower. He saw the hesitation in your eyes, the flicker of doubt, but also curiosity, maybe even a hint of longing.

Your breath hitched. You could feel the tension between you two, the way his gaze held yours, and for a brief second, you wondered what would happen if you just... leaned in. But then reality came crashing back. Jensen had just gone through a divorce. He was vulnerable, and you didn't want to complicate things, not like this. Not now.

You forced yourself to smile, though your heart was still racing. "Yeah," you said, holding up your phone as if to prove your point. "Just needed this." Jensen's eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he stepped back a little, his smirk softening. "Well, you've got it now."

"Thanks," you said quickly, eyes dropping down to the floor as you couldn't bare to look into his piercing green eyes, yet the pull too was strong, so that you raised your head again just seconds later. His eyes flickered with something unreadable as he watched you standing there, still holding onto your phone like a lifeline. The playful smirk never leaving his face, his voice low and laced with a teasing challenge.

"Yet you're still here."

The words hung in the air between you, thick with tension. You froze, the grip on your phone tightening. Were you imagining things? Misreading him? The way he had been so flirtatious all night, the casual touches, the lingering glances-it couldn't be nothing, could it?

Your mind was spinning, trying to make sense of the situation. You weren’t sure if you were overthinking or if you were too tipsy to trust your own judgment. But the way he looked at you now, like he was daring you to stay, made your pulse race.

He must have noticed the hesitation in your eyes because his expression shifted. He moved toward you, closing the distance, his hand finding your waist with an almost deliberate slowness. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and before you could process what was happening, he pulled you just a bit closer.

It was a bold move, one that made your heart skip a beat. You were taken aback, breath hitching in your chest as you looked up at him. His face was inches from yours now, and the tension was so thick it was hard to breathe. For a moment, your mind raced with mixed emotions. You knew this could complicate everything. And yet, the pull between you was undeniable.

Jensen's thumb gently brushed your side, his touch grounding you as the intensity of the moment swirled around you. His green eyes bore into yours, and for a split second, you were unsure of what to do. But then, in the next heartbeat, your hesitation melted away. Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a rush of heat and urgency.

The second your mouths touched, it was like a dam had broken. The tension that had been simmering between you all night finally erupted into something raw and electric. Jensen responded immediately, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you fully against him, eager to finally feel you, his lips moving hungrily against yours.

Your mind blurred with a heady mix of desire and disbelief, your hands instinctively finding their way to his bare chest, your fingers grazing his muscles still damp from the shower. You could taste the faint bitterness of alcohol on his lips, and the fact that you were both a little tipsy only seemed to add to the intensity of the moment.

His hands roamed up your sides, one slipping into your hair as the kiss deepened, his body pressing you gently but firmly against the edge of the bed. Your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears as you softly plunged onto the soft mattress.

You unconsciously bit onto your lower lip as you looked up at him, unholy images replaying in your mind as your gaze fell onto his happy trail, wanting nothing more than to rip that damn towel off of him. Jensen noticed how your eyes stuck to his body just a little too long, eliciting a chuckle out of him, "Go ahead, no need to be all shy now."

For a second, a small ounce of doubt crept into your mind—this was risky, so risky. You two were co-stars, and if anyone found out, it could lead to complications neither of you were ready for. But as Jensen's hand reached down to your chin, grabbing it with his big palm, that doubt vanished, replaced by desire.

You couldn't bare the need for him any longer, immediately getting to work by dropping onto your knees, the anticipation almost killing you as Jensen teasingly began to remove the towel from his hips. His eyes never left yours as he pulled down the white cloth, revealing his already hard cock. The sight of him, made your breath catch in your throat, gulping as you saw how big he actually was.

You came face to face with his length, looking up at him through hooded eyes, "Come on, show me what that pretty mouth can do." He groaned, immediately sending tingles to your core, desperately pressing your thighs together. With easy hands you held him in your soft palms, running your thumb over his tip and spreading the already leaking precum over it.

Pressing your lips together you gathered all your courage and inched closer, sticking out your tongue and licking a stripe all the way from his base to the tip. You repeated this action a few more times, then fully taking him in your mouth as far as you could go.

"Holy fuck, baby." Jensen growled, his head thrown back in pleasure as he couldn't believe how good your wet and warm mouth felt around him, only having imagined it before. You began to swirl your tongue around his cock, jerking off what you couldn't get in your mouth, as he reached to grab a fist full of your hair, yanking you back a little so he could grab at your neck with his other hand.

"You wanna be a good girl for me, right?" He mumbled in between grunts, admiring your plump lips that were so desperately trying to get back to sucking him off. You nodded hastily, this man could literally do anything to you and you’d thank him after.

"Good then, open up wide, baby."

He instantly took advantage of your parted lips and plunged himself down your throat in a swift motion, your eyes widening as you had to gag at the force. "Shhh, relax." Jensen cooed, his voice now softer as he gave you some time to get used to your mouth being full of him.

Once you gave him a small nod he began rolling his hips slowly into your mouth, your hands grabbing at his thighs to steady yourself. It was a weird feeling to have him down your throat so deep but as he continued his movements you began to like it, wanting him to go even harder.

You jerked your face closer to his abdomen, earning a deep and breathless chuckle from him. Realizing how eager you were lapping at his dick he picked up his pace, his tip hitting the back of your throat over and over again, driving you crazy.

The built up of saliva and precum that was dripping from the corner of your lips, helped Jensen even more to slide his cock in and out of your warm mouth. His grunts became louder and his hands were gripping the back of your head as he fucked your throat, your moans sending vibrations throughout his body, and he knew that if he continued he wouldn't last any longer.

But cuming just in your mouth tonight wouldn't satisfy him, he needed more. Pulling you off him by your hair you shot him a confused look, scared that he might've changed his mind and didn't want any of this, that it was just the alcohol on which behalf he was acting out, but his words quickly made all your doubts vanish.

"Need to finish inside you, y/n." He said, before pulling you back onto your feet and yanking your small frame onto the silky sheets. Towering over you he ran his hands along the soft fabric of your pyjama shorts, pulling them down harshly as you freed yourself from the little top that was just barely covering your tits anyway.

By the way his eyes widened and the way he pulled some air in sharply, you could tell that he took notice of your dripping wet cunt, already leaking onto the sheets. "Jensen.." you whined, the urge to finally feel him inside taking over you.

"Patience, baby." He smirked up at you, eyes full of lust as he placed some teasing kisses onto the insides of your soft thighs, making you squirm in desperation. Jensen jerked his still glistening cock for a few times, his one hand stayed at your chest, playing with your tit, as he lined himself up with your entrance.

Looking up at you for approval, you nodded which gave him the sign to proceed, his tip brushing over your clit and through your slick folds to lube himself up, before pushing into your needy cunt fast. You gasped at the sudden fullness, his cock stretching out your walls so perfectly, making Jensen grunt as he burried himself completely inside you, as if you were made for him.

"Gosh, look how perfect your pretty cunt is sucking me in. Really needed me that bad, huh?" Your eyes scrunched together, feeling yourself get wetter from his words alone. You rapidly nodded, breathing out a soft "mhm..shit..yes" as he chuckled, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses to your neck.

He was quick to go back to his previous action, rolling his hips smoothly against yours as he picked up his pace, soon slamming into you at an ungodly speed. The almost pornografic noises that came out of your mouth made him chuckle, clearly knowing that there might be some complaints by the morning, but he didn't care.

He kept on pounding into your eager pussy, your legs wrapped around his hips by now, making him hit much deeper, if that was even humanly possible. "Fuck.. I'm gonna.." you cursed underneath your breath, feeling the familiar knot in your lower stomach screaming for release.

"Cum all over me, sweetheart." Jensen groaned into your ear, his hot breath making your skin prickle. His hand crept down, two of his digits rubbing circles at your clit, causing you to let out a loud, almost scream-like, moan as you released all over him, creaming his cock.

"Fucking shit.." he grunted, teeth pressing into his lower lip as he gave you a few more hard thrusts, pearls of sweat forming on his forehead as he chased his own high. Groaning out loud you felt him twitch inside of you, cuming deep in your cunt, painting your slick walls white.

As both of you calmed down you still couldn't believe that this was actually real, even as Jensen pulled out of you and plopped onto the bed beside you. "Shit y/n, that shower was hella pointless..definitely not complaining though." He laughed, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he wrapped one of his big arms around your waist, pulling you close.

"Well, screams for a round two then." You replied, stroking his muscular chest. "You mean this or the shower?" He eyed you down, a smirk plastered on his face as he pointed in between you two. You just shrugged, yet the devilish smile plastered on your lips gave it away.

wow this was a wild ride, and i am actually kinda proud of this one !!

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags: @gibson-g1rl @beausling @angelicjackles @nuemanfilms @hischrrypie @starkeysprincess @drewsarms @rubyvhs @deansenvy @supernatural-wolfie @sammyluvr @nxptvn @rafecameroninterlude @deansbite

[tbaluver]

The Love And DeepSpace Men- Boyfriend Headcanons + Scenarios/ Imagines Pt. 2

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader requested: myself bc i craved writing something sweet genre: perhaps tooth rotting fluff fluff warnings: none unless you want cavities a/n: every day i wish they were real and every day i have a lads brain rot and i would gatekeep these ideas but i would never so here ya go ! lmk if i should write more of these ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა enjoy reading ! first part is here if you haven't read it! Pt.1 any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

The type of boyfriend who will finish your food whenever you can't finish it. He'll let you eat his food even when you say you're not hungry or you don't want anything. If the food he gets isn't something you would want, he'll make sure to buy something for you even if you say you don't want it.

You can expect his hand to always sneak into your lap when you lay in bed together after a long day. Gently embracing your lower stomach and whispering sweet nothings into your ear before you both fall asleep.

If you can't sleep, he'll try to join you for midnight snacks and watch whatever's on TV. He's trying his best to stay awake but you can already see him dozing off, clutching the stuffed plushie you won at the arcade.

Scenario:

You two sat on the soft grass, surrounded by a blanket of stars that painted the dark canvas of the night sky, eagerly waiting for the shooting stars to streak by.

"Xavier do you have anything in mind for what you're going to wish for?"

He turns to you, his gaze softening and a gentle smile spreads across his face. "I don't need to wish for anything else if my wish has already come true- I'm looking right at her."

Zayne:

He keeps all the little trinkets you've given him by his nightstand at home and his desk at work. That way when he wakes up you're the first thing on his mind, not that you left his mind in the first place. Each time he glances at them, he's flooded with happy memories and filled with anticipation to return to your embrace.

The type of boyfriend who puts a blanket over you if you fall asleep on the couch and eventually carries you to your shared bed.

Puts a ridiculous amount of sugar in his coffee that kind of leaves you concerned for your lover's sweet tooth.

Scenario 1:

You two lay in bed together, enjoying the lazy morning, not wanting to get up as if doing so would mean the day truly had to begin. You trace the outlines of his bare chest, your fingers dancing over the area where his heart beats.

“What are you doing?” he asks curiously as he watches you glide your fingers gently around his chest.

“Finding your heart and seeing who lives there,”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, a smile curling on his lips. “No one is there right now.”

You frown at his response, a playful pout forming on your lips. He cups your cheek, finding your reaction to be amusing and adorable. “That’s because the owner of my heart is currently right in front of me.”

Scenario 2:

As Zayne rushes to get ready for an emergency call from the hospital, his glasses are perched on top of your head.

“Zayne, aren’t you forgetting something?” you hinted, leaning in for a goodbye kiss.

“Ah yes, thank you.” He retrieves his glasses and you mock a pout. But he leans down, brushing your lips with his with a sweet kiss, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I love you. Please don’t stay up waiting for me again.”

Rafayel:

Sometimes he can be your boyfriend but sometimes he's also like your child from how much you baby him

He needs to be close to you at all times. The type of boyfriend who is all over you all the time. He needs to be close and touching you at all times. If you got hot from cuddling, he'll have either his hands or legs over your body because if you were apart for more than a second he thinks he might explode.

The boyfriend who stays up making something special for days and stays up overnight just to make it perfect just for you.

The type of boyfriend who adjusts your do not disturb on your phone so only his notification pops up whenever you're on do not disturb.

Imagine swimming in the ocean, you're enveloped in his embrace as you both gaze at the moonlight and stars above. He holds you close, resting his chin gently on the top of your head while you nestle your hand and head against his chest. It’s perfect like this. Just two of you near his homeland, the sea. Just him and you in your own world where you both find peace with the gentle sounds of the waves surrounding you both.

Sylus:

At the beginning of your relationship he redecorates his entire home so that you'll like it more and feel more inclined to stay over and stay the night at his place.

He only has a soft spot for you and only you. You see a side of him no one else does and not just that but his super silly side.

Sometimes he'll lift you onto the counter or lift you up to get what you need on a high shelf just because he wants to hold you.

The type of boyfriend who gets on his knees or sits down to be on the same level as you when you don't want to look up at him anymore. If he was sitting, he's definitely pulling you to his lap because you're not going to be the only one standing!

The type to hold all of your shopping bags and pure for you when you’re out shopping together. He does not complain about holding your purse at all, not that it would ever bother him in the first place. Also does not complain about holding all of your shopping bags, it’s literally light work for him and he would encourage you to buy more things of whatever you wanted.

Imagine after a long night at an auction, you two stumble back into your shared home not breaking the kiss. Your hands rest on Sylus’s neck, slowly sliding down as he murmurs sweet phrases against your lips. His strong arms wrap around your waist as he carries you bridal style, guiding you both toward your shared bedroom.

[monserelates]

P.S. Do you still love me? ; James Potter

⇨ f! reader x james potter

part 2 of the p.s. series

⇨ summary: You find an old letter James wrote to you during fifth year confessing he loved you but never sent. You're now dating someone else. Chaos ensues.

⇨ warnings/notes: use of y/n, angst, lowkey proofread, Emotional cheating themes, heartbreak, tension, crying, James spiraling, reader torn between two people, longing, and one (okay maybe a few) very old love letters.

a/n: this was a bit hard to write because this as you know this is not my usual trope but i hope i did okay!

⇨ word count: 3.5k

You don’t mean to be cold.

It’s just that every time Amos touches you lately, it feels… foreign. Like putting on someone else’s jumper. Warm, yes. Familiar, even. But not yours.

You're sitting beside him on the steps outside the Greenhouses after Herbology, your fingers twisting at the hem of your sleeve, sleeves pulled down past your knuckles. The sun is low, casting golden slants across the grass, and Amos is talking about his upcoming match against Ravenclaw.

He nudges your shoulder with his.

“You’ll be cheering for me, yeah?”

You smile—automatically. You’ve had practice at that. “'Course.”

But your eyes stay fixed on the path ahead, scanning students trickling out of class, your stomach tight with something you won’t name.

Then he leans in and kisses your cheek.

And your whole body tenses. Just barely. Just enough for you to notice it.

You swallow hard. Force yourself to relax. You don’t want to hurt him. He’s done nothing wrong.

Amos pulls back and looks at you with a puzzled sort of affection. “You okay?”

You nod quickly. “Just tired.”

He accepts it. He always does. He rubs your shoulder and talks more about Quidditch while you sit still and quiet and try not to think about that dumb, messy haired boy.

Later, in Charms, he reaches for your hand beneath the desk.

You hesitate.

Just a second.

But it’s enough.

His hand rests, waiting. Yours stays in your lap. You pretend to be too focused on your parchment, biting the inside of your cheek, quill digging a little too hard into the paper.

You tell yourself it’s fine. That it’s just nerves. That the letters don’t mean anything now.

You’re dating Amos. He’s kind. He’s reliable. He makes plans. He picks you flowers sometimes, even if they’re lopsided and smushed from his pockets. He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the castle.

He’s everything you always said you wanted.

So why does it feel like your skin is on wrong?

Why do you feel so far away?

Why do you feel like you belong to someone else?

You can't do that to him, he's done nothing wrong.

But it's eating you alive.

..

Sirius sees it first.

The way you’re quiet in the common room now. How you sit in the corner armchair instead of the couch you used to fight James for. The way you look at the fire like it might spit out the answers you’re too scared to say aloud.

He’s sprawled on the rug, Transfiguration homework untouched, chin resting on his knuckles as he watches you out of the corner of his eye.

You’re trying to read. Trying. But your eyes haven’t moved from the same paragraph in ten minutes.

You're not even blinking properly.

Sirius doesn’t say anything. Not yet.

He just watches.

It’s later—past midnight—when Remus joins him in the boys’ dorm, towel draped over his shoulder, hair damp from the showers.

“She’s off, isn’t she?” he says casually, toweling the back of his neck.

Sirius doesn't look up from where he's lying on his bed, arms folded behind his head. “Y/N?”

Remus nods.

There’s a beat of silence. Then Sirius exhales through his nose.

“She found them.”

Remus freezes. “The letters?”

Sirius just gives him a look. One of those quiet, heavy, yes of course the letters looks.

“Bloody hell,” Remus mutters, sitting slowly on the edge of his bed. “Does Prongs know?”

Sirius shakes his head. “She hasn’t said anything to him. Or to anyone, far as I can tell. Just… pulled away. From Diggory. From everything.”

Remus presses the towel into his lap, staring at the floor. “Do you think she’s—?”

“Confused?” Sirius interrupts. “Wrecked? Realizing she’s got feelings and it’s about five months too late? Yeah. Probably all of it.”

They sit in the quiet for a minute. Then—

“Wait, wait—what are we talking about?” Peter says from behind his bed curtains, poking his head out with an eager blink.

Remus sighs.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Y/N. She found the bloody letters.”

Peter frowns. “You mean those letters? The ones James said he burned?”

“Yeah. Turns out Moony was sentimental and tucked copies into that stupid drawer of his,” Sirius mutters, giving Remus a mock glare.

“I didn’t think she’d find them!” Remus defends. “She was looking for Advanced Transfiguration, not a personal breakdown.”

Peter’s mouth forms a small "o."

“So… does James know?”

Sirius looks away, jaw clenched. “No. And he can’t. Not yet.”

Remus nods slowly. “If she’s trying to figure out what she feels, the last thing she needs is pressure.”

Peter frowns. “But he still loves her, doesn’t he?”

Sirius swallows.

“He never stopped.”

The boys are still huddled in the dorm—Remus on the edge of his bed, Sirius half-lying on his, Peter nervously swinging his legs—when the door creaks open.

James walks in.

Hair damp, tie loose, cheeks a little flushed from racing upstairs. There’s a brightness to him. That usual glow. But it’s… quieter lately. He’s trying, and everyone can see it.

“Alright, what’s going on?”

He pauses mid-step, brows raised as he takes in the room. The energy is tense, tight like a pulled thread.

Remus instantly looks down, pretending to flip a page in his journal.

Peter nearly chokes on his own spit and starts coughing loudly.

Sirius—ever the composed one—leans back and throws a casual arm over the edge of the bed. “Going on? Nothing’s going on. Why would something be going on?”

James stares at him. “Because all three of you look like you just buried a body.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Prongs,” Sirius says, but he’s avoiding James’s eyes now, spinning a quill between his fingers.

Remus clears his throat. “We were just… talking. About that new Astronomy essay. Vector’s is due next week.”

Peter nods. A little too hard. “Yeah. Very important stars. Super… starry.”

James narrows his eyes. “You lot are terrible liars.”

No one answers.

He lets the silence hang for a moment longer. Then he sighs and rakes a hand through his hair.

“Is this about her?” he asks, voice lower now, cautious. “Y/N?”

Everyone goes very still.

Remus closes his journal. Slowly. Peter’s eyes dart to Sirius.

Sirius—cool, unreadable Sirius—shrugs, but his voice is gentler this time. “No one said anything about her.”

James swallows, gaze fixed on the carpet.

Then he nods, like he’s pretending it doesn’t hurt. “Right. Yeah. Just thought maybe…”

But he doesn’t finish. He just forces a smile and walks over to his trunk, rifling through it for something he doesn’t need.

Behind him, Sirius exhales quietly, and Remus shoots him a warning glance like: not yet.

Because James doesn’t know.

And if he did?

He’d never be able to pretend again.

..

The cobbled streets of Hogsmeade shimmer with melted snow, and your fingers are frozen around the paper bag of sweets Amos bought you.

Pumpkin fudge.

You hate pumpkin fudge.

But Amos doesn’t know that.

He’s talking again—some long-winded story about a Ravenclaw Beater and a near-miss Bludger—and you try to nod along, but it’s like your head’s full of fog.

You’re just outside Honeydukes when it happens.

The door to Zonko’s swings open across the street, and James steps out. Sirius and Peter flank him, laughing loudly, the kind of laughter that feels contagious. James is mid-joke, his eyes bright, cheeks flushed from the cold—

—and then he sees you.

Everything goes still.

You swear you hear your heartbeat echo off the snow.

His smile falters. Just a little. The barest hitch in the easy curve of his mouth.

Your eyes lock.

You don’t move. You don’t breathe.

And then, just like that—he looks away. Turns back to Sirius like you were never there.

Like he hadn’t once carried you to the Hospital Wing. Like he hadn’t once written you letters so full of love they felt like gravity.

“Y/N?”

You blink. Amos is frowning.

“What was that about?” he asks, gesturing with his chin toward James, who’s already vanishing down the lane.

You look down, heart thudding. “Nothing.”

He scoffs. “Didn’t look like nothing.”

“I said it’s nothing.” Your voice is sharper now. It surprises even you.

Amos crosses his arms. “You’ve been off all day. Actually—longer than that. Since last week, I think. You barely look at me during meals, you always say you're tired, and now you're staring at Potter like he's—like he's—”

He stops himself. But the implication is loud in the silence between you.

“Like he's what?” you ask, quiet.

Amos hesitates. “Do you still fancy him?”

The question hits you like a hex to the chest.

Did you fancy James for a little while after you started talking to Amos? No. Maybe. Probably..

Did you tell anyone? Oh heeeeeelll no.

It's just a small crush. You thought. I'l get over it.

And you did. For a while, sure.

“I—no. I mean—” You look away. “I don’t know.”

His eyebrows lift. “You don’t know?”

You hate this. Hate how you're making him feel. How you feel. Torn in pieces and pulled in directions you can’t make sense of.

“I just… I need time,” you murmur, not even sure what you're asking for.

Amos lets out a bitter laugh. “Right. Time.”

You can’t look at him.

Because he’s good. Kind. He deserves better than someone whose heart skips for a boy who wrote love letters and buried them in drawers.

“Let me walk you back,” he says after a beat, voice tight.

You nod, but you walk in silence. Side by side but oceans apart.

And James’s eyes still haunt you.

..

The corridor is empty except for the soft flicker of torchlight and the weight of everything you’ve been holding in.

Lily doesn’t say anything. She just walks beside you, shoulder brushing yours as you step into the quiet, unused hallway near the Divination staircase—the one that always smells faintly like lavender and dust.

You sit on the windowsill. Hug your knees. Stare out at the fading light like it might offer an answer.

“Y/N,” Lily says gently, “you haven’t smiled properly in days.”

You swallow hard.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Her brow furrows.

“I should be happy. Amos is… he’s kind. And steady. And he likes me. Everything’s easy with him. Safe.”

A pause.

“But it doesn’t feel right anymore.”

You rest your forehead on your knees. “It’s like I’m with him, and all I can think about is someone else. The way someone else used to look at me. The way he knew me. Without ever having to ask.”

Just around the corner, James stops walking.

He hadn’t meant to overhear.

He’d been trailing behind the group after dinner, letting Sirius and Remus wander off ahead, when he heard your voice. Fragile. Real.

And the sound of his name—not said aloud, but written into the cracks of everything you were saying.

He inches closer, just enough to hear.

“I feel awful,” you whisper. “Like I’m lying every time I smile at Amos. Because part of me is somewhere else. With someone else. Someone I never really gave a chance to.”

Lily doesn’t ask who. She doesn’t need to.

But James?

He already knows.

And he backs away, hand trembling slightly as he grips the stone wall beside him.

Because that ache in your voice—it’s the same one in his chest.

And even though he only caught pieces, it’s enough.

It’s enough to make him want to hope again.

Even if it terrifies him.

..

The fire in the common room is low, just embers now. Most students have gone up to bed. It’s only Sirius and James, sprawled out on the worn leather couches like they used to when they were kids sneaking out for stolen Butterbeer and bad jokes.

But there’s no laughter tonight.

James hasn’t said much since dinner.

He’s staring into the flames, absently bouncing a Chocolate Frog card between his fingers. His hair’s still damp from the shower. His shirt’s rumpled. His usual glow is dimmed. Tired around the edges.

Sirius watches him. Quiet. Restless.

“You alright, Prongs?” he finally asks.

James doesn’t look away from the fire. “Yeah.”

A beat.

“You sure?”

James exhales through his nose. “No. But I will be.”

Sirius shifts in his seat. Elbows on his knees now, tapping his fingers together like he’s working up to something.

“You saw her today, didn’t you?” he asks, voice low.

James says nothing.

“She looked at you like she wanted to say something.”

Still nothing.

“And you looked away.”

James finally speaks. “What do you want me to say, Pads?”

Sirius leans back. “That maybe you’re still in love with her.”

The card in James’s hand stills.

Another silence.

He closes his eyes. Rubs his jaw. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do this.”

Sirius studies him. “She’s not happy, James. Anyone with eyes can see it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” James snaps, sharper than intended. “She chose Diggory.”

Sirius scoffs. “You really think this is about choosing?”

“She’s with him, Sirius.” James’s voice cracks at the edge, but he clenches his jaw, hard. “Whatever I felt—whatever I feel—it’s irrelevant now.”

Sirius watches him, eyes softening. “She’s still yours. In the quiet ways. The stuff that counts.”

James stands abruptly. Walks to the fireplace, hands gripping the mantle.

“I’m not talking about this.”

Sirius opens his mouth. Wants to say she read the letters. She’s falling apart, too. It’s not over, James. Not yet.

But James turns to him, and the look in his eyes is final.

Tired. Guarded. Shattered.

“Just… don’t.”

And Sirius doesn’t.

Because as much as he wants to fight for them—James needs to be ready to fight for himself first.

So he nods once, slowly.

Lets the silence return.

Lets James breathe.

Even if it hurts.

..

You slump onto your bed. The door creaks open and Lily slips inside, followed by Marlene and Dorcas. They don’t say a word, just sit around you like a quiet circle of safety.

Lily’s eyes are soft but serious.

“Talk to us,” she says.

You shrug, avoiding their gaze.

“I don’t know what I feel anymore.”

Marlene leans forward, voice low but direct.

“That’s not an answer, Y/N. You do know.”

“No, I don’t,” you whisper. “I’m just... stuck. I care about him. I want to care about him. But every time I’m with him, I feel like I’m someone else.”

Dorcas nods slowly.

“You’re spinning him around. And yourself. It’s exhausting.”

You bury your face in your hands.

“But what if I’m wrong? What if I’m just scared to be alone?”

Lily shakes her head firmly.

“You’re not alone. And you’re not wrong for wanting more. You deserve to be with someone who sees you. Not a version of you that fits their story.”

Marlene crosses her arms.

“You have to break up with Amos. Don’t keep pretending or spinning this any longer.”

You pull your hands down, eyes glossy with tears.

“But what if I hurt him? What if it’s not fair?”

Dorcas reaches over, squeezing your hand.

“It’s better to be honest now than to stay and lose yourself completely. You deserve to be happy, Y/N.”

Lily smiles softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

“And we’ll be right here. No matter what.”

You take a shaky breath. For the first time in days, you feel a flicker of clarity.

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll figure it out.”

..

You find him sitting on a fallen log near the water, tossing pebbles one by one. The sunset paints the sky in bruised pinks and golds, but you barely notice.

Your heart pounds so loud you think he must hear it.

You swallow hard.

“Amos...” you begin, voice trembling.

He looks up, hopeful but wary.

“I need to be honest,” you say. “I’ve been... distant. And it’s not fair to you.”

He nods slowly, eyes searching yours.

“I don’t think I’m the person you thought I was,” you continue, voice stronger now. “Or maybe I am, but I’m not who I want to be. Not with you.”

His brow furrows.

“I don’t understand.”

“I care about you. I care a lot,” you admit, tears slipping down your cheeks. “But that’s not enough. I’m scared I’m holding you back because I don’t know how to be who I really am when I’m with you.”

He looks crushed.

“So... what does that mean?”

You meet his gaze, steady despite the ache.

“It means we need to stop. Before this becomes something we both regret. You deserve someone who loves you without hesitation. Someone who can be fully there. And right now, that’s not me.”

He swallows, then nods.

“If that’s what you want... I just want you to be happy.”

You blink away your tears.

“Thank you for everything, Amos. You were a good boyfriend, really.”

You stand, the weight lifting even as your chest tightens.

You turn away, leaving behind the ache of what wasn’t meant to be, and stepping toward the truth you’ve been avoiding for too long.

..

The Gryffindor dorm was alive with the usual noise of restless boys — laughter echoing, a stray pillow flying through the air, books shuffled and parchment rustled. Sirius was sprawled on his bed, smirking as he lobbed another pillow at Remus, who was trying, and failing, to focus on a hefty book about magical creatures. Peter sat on the edge of a chair, fiddling nervously with the corner of a parchment, casting quick glances at the others.

Sirius’s sharp eyes caught Peter’s uneasy expression, and he called out with a warning grin, “Wormtail, don’t you even think about it.”

Remus’s voice was low but firm. “Seriously, Pete. Keep your mouth shut.”

Peter swallowed hard, looking like he was trying to keep a secret that weighed heavily on him. His gaze flicked to James, who was lazily cleaning his broomstick but clearly curious about the quiet tension.

James sat up straighter, eyes narrowing. “Alright, what’s going on? Why the sudden hush? You’re all acting like I’m about to get hexed or something.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and tossed another pillow toward Peter’s head, but this time he caught it mid-air, cheeks flushing. “No, it’s nothing. Just some dumb gossip.”

Remus gave Peter a pleading look — don’t say anything, the look screamed.

Peter hesitated, biting his lip. Then, as if the pressure became too much, he blurted out, “Rememberthelettersyouwrotewelly/nsawthemandsheknowsaboutyourcrush”

The room went silent so quickly it was like the air itself had stopped.

James blinked, caught completely off guard. “What? I didn’t get a single thing.”

Sirius threw a pillow at Peter’s face “Our silly pete is just sayin’ he’s hungry, right Pete?”

Peter’s voice dropped to a nervous whisper,

“Y/N found the letters..”

“Oh for fucks sake” Sirius groaned and Remus buried his face into his pillow.

Time seemed to freeze.

James’s eyes widened in shock. “She did what?!”

Remus grabbed Peter’s arm firmly, shaking his head. “You have no idea how much trouble you just caused.”

James pushed himself off his bed, pacing with his hands tangled in his hair. His voice cracked with disbelief and frustration. “Why didn’t any of you tell me? What the hell were you thinking, keeping that from me?”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, exasperated but trying to keep calm. “We thought it was better if you didn’t know right away. We didn’t want to make things worse.”

Remus nodded in agreement. “It wasn’t an easy thing to keep quiet. But Y/N was struggling, and we wanted to protect you both.”

James let out a bitter laugh, voice shaking with anger and hurt. “Protect me? By leaving me in the dark while she carried this alone? She’s been hurting because of me, and you all just sat there, silent?”

Peter looked down, ashamed.

James stopped pacing and faced them, eyes blazing. “You think this was easy? For me? I should’ve known. I needed to know. How can I fix anything if I’m left in the dark?”

Sirius sighed heavily, his usual cocky attitude replaced with something more serious. “Look, mate, we didn’t want to break your heart even more. You didn’t know how bad it was.”

James shook his head slowly, voice low and painful. “I’m not a child. I deserve the truth. And I deserve to know what’s going on with her — with us.”

The room fell quiet again, the weight of James’s words settling like a stone.

Remus stepped forward carefully, trying to ease the tension. “We’ll tell you everything when you’re ready. Just... give Y/N space, too.”

James ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “Yeah. Space. Right.”

He looked at each of them, eyes burning with emotion. “Next time you think about keeping something like this from me, remember how it feels to find out like this. From a slip-up.”

Sirius cracked a small smile, trying to lighten the mood, but it was thin. “Point taken, mate.”

Peter gave a small, guilty nod. “Sorry, James. I didn’t mean to make it worse.”

After what felt like years of James pacing around the room, he rubbed his face, trying to calm down. “I just... I need to figure out what to do now.”

The Marauders exchanged looks, knowing this was only the beginning.

keep reading

taglist: @glittervame @strlightfilms @simp-for-fiction @natalia42069 @miapotterismyfav @bellatrixscurls @gulugulukaboom @mgg55lovr @mgg55lovr @hawaii2320 @andrewgarfieldislife @yasministration

[tttabii]

── .한 수강 LUXURIOUS ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა han su-gang x female reader

warnings : smut, minors do not interact, 18+

YOU WEREN'T EXACTLY PROUD of the incident-it goes without saying that the last school was not ready for someone like you. The girl you sent to the ICU was obviously in a position to receive such treatment after months of food being thrown at your back, having your family brought into it, and almost cutting your hair while you were stretching on the gym floor in PE.

Therefore, you don't regret making the decision.

The school board does, obviously, and that is how you apply to transfer mid semester, loosening your hair down, get your attire just right, and paste on a fake sweet smile.

New school, new beginnings. Supposedly.

Except, nobody warned you that you would be walking straight into his class.

Han Su-gang.

The name could have been praised as the gospel throughout the school hallways. Not only was he feared, but he couldn't be touched. He had a sharp immaculate jawline, piercing stare as his hands folded in his pockets were he struts through a corridor like he owned the entire place. In some respects, he owned all of it.

Even teachers looked the other way when he opened his mouth and raised his voice. Students openly talked about him as though he were a legend. A monster. A king.

You weren't sure what you expected walking in that day, but the moment your eyes locked with his across the room, you could tell he was intrigued. His posture leaned back like he was already bored, but the way his gaze followed your every move screamed otherwise.

"I'm Y/n," you said sweetly, your lips upturned just enough to be polite, your eyes bright and warm. You had perfected it-innocent. Harmless. Forgettable.

The teacher nodded, assigned you to the empty desk near the windows... the empty desk next to his. Classes continued, but you could feel it-his eyes on you, Judging. Wondering if you were prey, threat, or entertainment.

Then came recess.

You were rifling through your bag, annoyed. "Where the hell..." you muttered under your breath. Your airpods were gone. You could have sworn you put them right back this morning.

"Looking for something?" a cool, lazy voice asked. You looked up only to see him, Han Su-gang himself, casually perched on the corner of the desk like he lived there.

"Airpods," you said simply, ruffling your hair in frustration, brushing it over one shoulder. His crew had surrounded your desk like vultures, two girls gossiping with each other, and five guys like bumbling guards. You weren't bothered, but you weren't stupid enough to ignore it.

He tilted his head. "They probably fell out. Or maybe someone took 'em."

You looked up at him, not buying the innocent act for a second.

"Why don't you come join us on the rooftop?" he said suddenly, the corner of his lips pulling up in smirk that could be view as charming. "I'll show you what this school is really about."

Flirting or taunting-you weren't sure. But he was hot, and he knew it. He was hot regardless, and he knew it. Just as you were about to respond, a voice from the doorway called, "Y/N, please come to the teacher's office! We need you to finalize your transfer papers."

You got to your feet, shook out your skirt, and gave Su-gang a polite smile. "Well, I guess I'll take a raincheck."

But before you could leave, he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear, "I can't wait to see what you're like after hours, jagiya," he whispered just loud enough for his gang to hear, lips barely brushing your skin.

It wasn't dirty, but it felt dirty.

You blinked. A beat skipped in your chest-and then you walked out without another word.

Game on.

The rooftop air was heavy with vapor and smoke-the sun was down low, casting golden light over the buildings, as if it didn't know what kind of things went down on rooftops like this. You stepped outside, the thud of your shoes echoed on the concrete, the poppy breeze tugged at your shortened skirt.

There they were. Han Su-gang's crew.

They all leaned back like they didn't care in the world, casually taking puffs from their vapes, like it was a solemn tradition. The girls laughed and let sweet-smelling clouds exit their mouths. One of the guys was lounging on the ledge, feet dangling off, staring at the circling campus with half-opened eyes.

And right in the center of it all, like a throne had been carved out of concrete just for him-Han Su-gang. You raised an eyebrow as you walked up without a hint of nervousness. He didn't say anything at first, just grinned when he noticed you, walking his eye down your legs... pausing when he saw the edge of a tattoo peeking from your thigh.

The slightest smirk raised at the corner of his mouth.

So much for your "sweet girl" act.

"Didn't think you'd show up," he said, voice low and cool, exhaling smoke as he gestured to the empty seat next to him with a casual pat. "Come. Let's get acquainted."

His buddies whistled, sneering quietly with dumb smiles plastered on their faces like they were witnessing a performance. You took your time sitting down, raising your brows higher like it was boring. "You gonna tell me your name, or should I guess it from the gossip?"

"Han Su-gang," he replied, tapping the end of his vape absentmindedly against his palm before raising himself forward closer to you and adding, "You can try out my surname if you want. It fits you."

You huffed a laugh-more amused than flustered-but you had to admit that the way he said everything breezed through the air so easily you felt a curl of anxiety in your gut. The flirting was straight up real. He extended the vape toward you. You looked at the device and then shifted your gaze to him

"I don't just share this with anyone," he said, very smugly.

You took the vape anyway. "Consider me someone."

You took a drag and let it out slow; the room felt like the air slipped somewhere, but you made eye contact through the fog of mist and smoke. The air changed again, enough that he leaned into you now, only a breath away from your face.

"Not bad," he murmured. "Tough girl, huh? Shame your act's cracking already."

You feigned cluelessness. "What act?"

His hand slid across your thigh, featherlight over where the ink curved out from beneath your skirt. "This one."

Another whistle. This time, a boy had his phone up and was clearly taking a picture. You threw him a lazy glance. "Blackmail already?"

Su-gang smirked, still not taking his eyes off you. "They just want evidence I found someone fun."

You couldn't lie, he was attractive. And even if this was just some warped version of getting bullied, the look he gave you? Like he had already claimed you as his for his own?

Yeah, it made your heart beat a little faster. And judging by the way his eyes darkened when you smirked back at him?

He wasn't immune to you either.

────୨ৎ────

The teacher's warning faded away in your mind like just background noise, something dull and forgettable. "Stay away from Han Su-gang," she said, with a voice catching genuine concern as well as some degree of exhausted resignation.

But you had already taken a stroll down the halls with him, less than an hour later, while he tossed a bag over the shoulder of some poor kid he had probably convinced to become his personal mule, along with yours.

And you didn't say anything about it, didn't skip a beat, didn't even question it. You just walked next to Su-gang as if you had always walked side by side.

If she misread you as a "good girl," maybe that was on her.

Once your heels clicked out of reach, the whispers began immediately, almost rhythmically.

"That's the new girl?"

"Already in his crew?"

"I guess she's not as sweet as she looks."

And Su-gang- he knew where the stares were directed. He felt the envy. One glance from him, and the guys glancing over at you? Everyone could see their chances dwindle; it was over.

When you arrived at the club that night, the bass thumped through the walls like a second heart. The expensive lights rendered everything in cinematic slow motion.

Champagne foamed in crystal flutes. Cigarette smoke curled around lazy smiles and glossy lips.

You fit into it all like you were born for it.

That tight black dress you wore? Sin. Draped perfectly over your curves, hugging you in all the right ways. Every head turned when you walked past-girls whispering, guys staring like you weren't real.

You were sitting on the plush couch in the VIP area, giggling with the girls while holding a champagne glass. You let out that cute little giggle that you always do when you saw the box of fancy cigarettes sitting on the table. You remember expressing interest in them before, but everywhere you went, they had been sold out.

But here on the table, there they were.

Su-gang made sure of it.

You stood to reach for one of the cigarettes, and before your hand hit the box, he appeared from behind you, pulled you down out of nowhere into his lap, with his strong arms wrapped around your waist.

Gasps and teasing whistles erupted from around the table.

"Yah, Su-gang-" one of the guys started to say before getting shot down from the look Su-gang gave him.

He didn't say anything to you at first, just tucked his chin near your neck, the heat of his breath ghosting over your skin as his hand splayed boldly across your stomach. Possessive. Like he already claimed you.

"Pass the cigarettes," he said, his tone lazy, yet decisive. One of the men in the group grabbed them and handed them to him, fumbling but trying to be quick.

He picked one out for you, and slipped it between your lips the way someone brushes hair from your eyes.

"Don't say I never treat you." He lit it for you, and watched you inhale, your eyes on his the whole time. And for a moment, the whole club disappeared-the music, the people, the flashing lights.

Just you in his lap, the luxury curling between your fingers, smoke on your breath, and power in your smile. You weren't in his world. You were his world.

Su-gang leaned in, his breath hot against Leo's ear. "Let's go somewhere more private," he whispered, his voice a seductive promise that sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, unable to resist the allure of the moment. He glanced back at the group of friends who were now fully engaged in their own conversations, the laughter and the music creating a wall of sound that seemed to swell around them.

With a gentle nudge, Su-gang led you out of the VIP lounge, his hand firm but not overpowering on the small of your back. The hallway was a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the club, the dim lights casting elongated shadows on the walls.

The bathroom door loomed ahead, and as Su-gang pushed it open, the cool air hit your flushed cheeks like a slap. Su-gang locked the door behind you two, the finality of the click sending a thrill through your body.

With a sudden urgency, Su-gang felt the need to capture the moment, to seal the intensity of his desire before the world outside intruded. He stepped closer, the warmth of your body radiating through the thin fabric of your dress, and without a second thought, he pinned you against the cold, hard surface of the library door.

His eyes searched yours, a silent question, and in your gaze, he found the answer he craved.

Your lips met in a passionate dance, a fiery exchange of breath and sensation that sent shivers down both of your spines. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer, as if trying to erase the last sliver of space between you.

You felt the softness of his mouth, the rough bite of his teeth, the tender way his tongue explored yours. It was a kiss that spoke of longing and need, a silent declaration of feelings that had been smoldering for weeks.

Su-gang's thumbs hooked into the straps of your dress, and with surprising deftness, he tugged them down, exposing your bare shoulders to the cool air.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, the excitement building as you nodded when he asked for your consent, your eyes never leaving his. His hands continued their journey, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.

The fabric fell down, and you felt a rush of vulnerability mixed with exhilaration as his palms cupped your breasts, his thumbs grazing your sensitive nipples.

With a low growl, he bent his head to nuzzle against your neck, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. The sensation sent bolts of electricity through your body, making you arch into him.

He took it as an invitation and began to kiss and bite you gently, leaving a trail of fire along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts. The sharpness of his teeth sent delicious shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan, your breath hitching in your throat.

"Take off your clothes too," you urged him, your voice barely a whisper in the vast silence of the library.

He smirked, his eyes dark with desire, and stepped back. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."

With deliberate slowness, he began to unbutton his shirt, one button at a time. His muscles rippled in the dim light as the fabric parted, revealing his broad chest. He watched as you eyed him up and down, savoring the way your eyes devoured his body.

As you slipped out of your dress, you felt the coolness of the marble floor beneath your bare feet, a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch.

His gaze lingered on your lacy underwear, and before you could take another breath, his fingers were there, tracing the edges of your panties. He slipped his hand inside, his thumb finding your clit and beginning to circle it with maddening precision.

The sensation was exquisite, making you gasp and whine. Your knees grew weak, and you leaned back against the door for support, your eyes fluttering closed.

Su-gang took advantage of your momentary vulnerability, hoisting you up effortlessly and placing you on the countertop that ran along the far wall of the bathroom.

The coldness of the counter sent a shock through your system, but it only heightened the heat building between your legs. With a fierce growl, he ripped your panties off, tossing them aside like a forgotten piece of paper.

You felt a brief moment of exposure, but it was quickly swallowed by the overwhelming need to have him inside you.

He stepped between your spread legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor.

His erection sprang free, thick and demanding, and you bit on your lips in anticipation. He didn't waste any time and plunge two fingers into your wet pussy.

The sudden intrusion made you cry out, your hips bucking against his hand as he began to finger you with a fast, relentless pace.

The way his hand moved inside you was almost magical, curling and stroking in a way that no one else had ever managed to do. It was as if he could read your mind, giving you exactly what you needed without you having to ask for it.

The pressure built quickly, and you felt your orgasm approaching like a freight train, unstoppable and all-consuming.

But just as you were about to reach the peak, Su-gang withdrew his fingers, leaving you gasping for more.

He leaned in, his cock pressing against your thigh, and whispered in your ear, "I want to hear you scream my name when you come."

Before you could react, he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock playing with your clit, teasing and taunting. It was agonizingly sweet, and you squirmed against the cold counter, desperate for relief.

With a final, almost torturous kiss, he plunged into you, filling you up in one smooth stroke. Your nails dug into his back, leaving trails of red against his skin as you whispered his name, over and over again.

His hips moved with an animalistic rhythm, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. He was so deep inside you, it was as if he was touching your soul, the connection between your bodies palpable and intense.

Su-gang flipped your body to face the mirror, hand reached around to cup your face, turning it towards the bathroom mirror. Your eyes met in the reflection, the desire in them almost feral.

The sight of him behind you, his muscles flexing with each movement, was enough to make you whimper.

You could see the way his cock disappeared into your hole, the way your ass cheeks clapped against his pelvis with every thrust.

It was raw, it was real, and it was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced.

With a growl, he thrusted into you even slower but rougher, making it feel as if every inch of him was leaving an indelible mark on your insides.

You moaned so loud that it was likely that even his friends, who had chosen this moment to place their ear by the bathroom, could hear. The sound of your pleasure bounced off the tiles, mixing with the slap of flesh on flesh.

"I'm gonna cum fuck!" you moaned, the words a desperate plea and declaration all at once. The intensity of your orgasm was building, a crescendo of sensation that had you panting and trembling.

"Can I cum inside?" Su-gang grunted, his voice strained with his own impending release. His eyes searched yours in the mirror, seeking confirmation, a silent question in the midst of the chaos.

You nodded vigorously, the anticipation making your pussy tighten around him.

"Yes," you managed to breathe, your voice a gasp that matched his rhythm. "Do it, cum inside me."

The words seemed to unleash something primal within him. His thrusts grew more frenzied, his hips slapping against your ass with a force that was both exhilarating and a bit painful.

Each smack sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you squirt around his cock and coating him in your juices. He groaned, the sound deep and guttural, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror as he drove into you.

Finally, with one last powerful thrust, Su-gang came inside you, filling you with his warm, thick cum. The feeling of him releasing was almost as intense as your own orgasm, and you felt your walls clench around him, milking every last drop.

Your legs trembled, and you wrapped your arms around his neck for support as he slowly pulled out, the last spurts of his seed painting your inner thighs.

For a moment, you let him sit you up on the counter, panting and trying to regain your composure. The cold wood of the counter was a stark contrast to the heat of your passion, and you shivered slightly.

Su-gang took notice, his expression softening as he carefully helped you sit up. He grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on the counter, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to clean you up. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were handling something precious.

When you were both dressed and ready to leave, your eyes fell on the shredded fabric of your panties lying on the floor. A small smile played on your lips, a silent reminder of the intensity that had just occurred. He noticed your gaze and smirked, bending down to pick them up.

Without a word, he crumpled the ruined fabric into a ball and tossed it into the trash can, his movements still filled with a restrained energy.

The air in the hallway felt heavier than it had minutes ago. You paused for a second, fingers fidgeting together as your eyes met his friend-Ji-won, maybe?

He didn't even try to mask the smug smirk pulling at his lips.

You were used to stares, to whispers, to attention. But this?

This wasn't just about your dress, or the way your heels clicked against the marble floor-this was about the obvious blooming bruises decorating your skin, like Su-gang had marked you on purpose.

Like he wanted everyone to know.

And judging by the way the boys avoided direct eye contact, shifting uncomfortably or biting back grins-they did know.

You cleared your throat and walked past them, your head held high, even if your cheeks burned. Su-gang wasn't far behind, his steps lazy and deliberate, like he owned every inch of the hallway.

"Hyung, you're insane," one of the younger boys muttered under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear.

Su-gang just shrugged, cocky grin tugging at his mouth. "What? She didn't complain."

You shot him a look-part scandalized, part flustered, part can't-help-it smirk. And he looked entirely unbothered, like he wanted them to see.

Like he liked the way you were standing here, slightly dazed, slightly marked up, completely his.

"Let them talk," he said low enough for just you to hear, brushing his hand against the small of your back as he walked past.

"They'll learn soon enough that you're mine."

[thebluester2020]

[GI] Kinktober Day 3: "Sharing"

Summary: As a secretary to the revered Il Capitano, you expected your job to consist of intense movement while keeping things on schedule simultaneously without a single missed beat. However, when Tartaglia arrives on the scene, you hadn't expected being shared between the two Harbingers to be on the job description as well!

Warning(s): Porn with plot, Threesome, A touch of assplay, Anal, Rough sex, General filthiness (but that's kinktober for ya), Slight favoritism for Tartaglia (he's my fav, I cant help it), Hint of Monster! Capitano, Some spit play (a touch of it, I cant stress that enough).

Side Note(s): If you can't tell via this fic. I like Capitano and Tartaglia a normal amount <33

You knew that the life of being a secretary to Capitano wouldn't be easy.

The constant moving from area to area. If the frigid snowstorms, scorching heat and violent storms didn't kill you then your feet simply falling off from all the movement would! When you announced to your family that you would be serving the honorable and righteous Il Capitano, your family warned you that the first Harbinger had achieved that title for a reason, he was rumored to be strict and brutal with how he ordered people underneath him! In his eyes, everyone was an expendable soldier to further serve his purpose of pleasing the Tsaritsa.

But you understood the risks when you sent in your hiring application. You accepted the fact that, as his aid, he'd expect nothing but the best from you as you aimed to make sure that his schedule was free and that he was kept up-to-date with any meetings he may have had or wanted to have in the future!

Yet...it's been four months now.

And still, he failed to adhere to the rumors that circulated about him.

Strict and brutal? Yes, but he was fair. He expected his soldiers to keep up on their long marches but he didn't make them walk until they started to bleed from their pores! He gave his soldiers a lot of time to rest, to make up for the constant walking and he definitely didn't starve them for months on end like you had heard other rumors say! Il Capitano was also relatively kind and heeded his soldiers' words attentively, taking their worries and concerns into consideration.

Earlier in your service, you remembered how one soldier came to him stating they were too weak to continue the march. You had expected the Harbinger to dismiss them and tell them to either "keep up or die to the frost" but...Capitano's actual response shocked you.

"If you are too weak...then we shall continue to rest here for a little while longer, make sure to eat and stay hydrated. Avoid training."

Your eyes nearly formed into the size of a moon at his gentle words to the soldier.

And as you and Capitano became more familiar with one another, your shock at how he treated his soldiers died down and instead shifted towards realizing that...you were steadily growing a crush on the Harbinger. Especially as you and he would continue to be around one another, eventually coming to a place where you two would talk and you could even joke with him (even though his responses to your jokes would be dry).

"Today was colder than usual..." You commented once you had finally retreated inside of the tent Capitano and you shared. You slept on one side of the tent while he slept on the other.

Capitano with a gruff noise that you had learned over the months was a sign of him agreeing. "When we come across another town, can I stop briefly to get some more coats? I think my current one is wearing away."

"Do not bother, I will have a couple sent here. We will be in this spot longer than usual." Your brow rose at his words before you took out your notepad to check if he had any meetings.

"Is there a meeting that I missed? Apologies that I didn't write it down and remind you, sir—"

"No, Tartaglia will be joining us in a day with his own soldiers."

Your kept your lips sealed at the reveal that the Eleventh Harbinger would be joining the war party for...goodness knows how long. Although you heard that he was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, you had also heard here and there that he was a...loose canon to say the least. But, you'd try to approach the situation with an open mind. You had gone into this situation believing that Il Capitano was a monster but was surprised to see that he was a reserved sweetheart, perhaps Tartaglia would be different!

. . .

And come to find out, he was.

But...for reasons different than what you were originally expecting. Tartaglia, when a bunch of soldiers had suddenly announced that the Eleventh and his party were approaching. As you stepped out of your and Capitano's tent, you wouldn't deny that a spark of fear shot into you as you witnessed the scene of a bunch of soldiers being led through the violent snowstorm by their bloodied leader. A hydro spear being lazily carried by him, all the while his eyes were distant, as if he had seen countless wars and lived to tell about them.

You opened your mouth to voice your concern to Il Capitano, although...with how quickly he ordered the doctors and nurses of the camp to tend to him and his soldiers. You figured he was used to the Harbinger popping up bloody and beaten. "Follow him," He said to you, leaning down a little to better whisper into your ear. "Introduce yourself and get details of the battle he came from the northeast."

Without a second of hesitation, you quickly followed the trail of bloody footprints until you reached the larger part of the camp which was dedicated mostly to keeping prisoners and where the medical stations were set up, you spent the next few minutes peeking into tent after tent before you finally found the one that housed Tartaglia. As you stepped into the tent, however...a blush immediately coated your cheeks as you walked in on him shirtless and being bandaged. "Sorry!" You quickly said, your hands rising to cover your eyes.

All before the Eleventh laughed. "It's fine!" He said, his surprisingly charming voice not matching how he first arrived at the camp. "You must be the Captain's secretary." He continued. "I'll go ahead and assume he wants to know about what I saw?"

You nodded your head.

For the next few minutes, there was silence besides the movement of the doctors and nurses as they bandaged him and seemingly checked to make sure there weren't any other wounds or spots they may have potentially missed. "Hm...I'll tell him myself tomorrow." He eventually answered.

Your brow rose as you slowly lowered your hands, your cheeks still an obvious red color. "I'd assume that Capitano would want this information as soon as possible sir."

Tartaglia let out a snicker as he sat up, grabbing his jacket to throw it over his shoulders before his attention quickly returned to you. "And he will! I'm just more curious about his secretary. Being a part of Capitano's warband isn't easy." Your eyes narrowed slightly, trying to keep on your toes around him. You weren't looking to get on his bad side and the way that his eyes looked over you...it reminded you of how a fox would circle and toy with a rabbit before eventually going in for the kill.

"It isn't but I've managed." You eventually came to answer. "You get used to the cold."

"Every soldier does, it's a way of life when you work for us Harbingers."

It was then that you felt a familiar presence, a brief look behind you quickly making you lower your head in respect when you saw Capitano. "Captain!" Tartaglia greeted. "I'll go ahead and assume you want to know what I saw? It's what your cute secretary was asking about just moments before." You blushed at the sudden compliment, all before Capitano made a gruffing noise.

"Refrain from giving my secretary any problems Childe."

"Don't worry, don't worry." He said dismissively before a heavy hand suddenly placed itself on your shoulder.

"You may leave," Capitano said, and you didn't waste a second to retreat from the tent, your heart pounding in your chest from the sudden influx of compliments you received from the two Harbingers. It seemed that, with those two around simultaneously...things were bound to get more interesting around the camp from now on.

. . .

Since then, you've been caught in a weird "tug n' pull" between the Harbingers. One moment you'd be finishing paperwork for Capitano and then the next? Tartaglia would suddenly tug you away from your work in order for you to do some tasks for him! (Which, typically, wasn't even work at all but him just using you as a listening ear for ranting about his day). And Capitano caught Tartaglia dragging you away, he'd quickly intervene to bring you back at your side, sometimes even scolding the younger Harbinger in the process.

Although it was highly entertaining, in the process of being dragged away by Tartaglia a couple of times. You've been pleased to find out that he was sweet-hearted and a devoted older brother to his siblings, you couldn't remember a time where you were with him and he didn't mention his family at least two times. The way he'd wonder aloud about what gifts he would send them, about whether or not they were eating properly...it warmed your heart to where...you developed a crush on the ginger before you had even realized it.

"You know milashka...you could always work for me," Tartaglia suggested suddenly one late evening as you sat in a chair in his tent your eyes flicking up from your work to him looking over at you from his desk.

"Aren't you supposed to be finishing paperwork?"

He groaned dramatically. "It's hard to! Especially when you're right here in front of me." You rolled your eyes at his flirtations but, you couldn't deny the smile that found its way to your face before you could command your brain to keep it hidden. And that smile emboldened the Eleventh Harbinger greatly. "It can't be too fun to constantly march in the cold, at least with me, I'd bring you along to much warmer places."

"I don't mind the cold."

"No need to play tough, you caught a bad cold last week."

You huffed at Tartaglia's words, neither disagreeing nor agreeing with him as you watched him slowly rise from his seat behind his desk and walk over to you. You were familiar with that glint in his eyes, a glint that spoke of him planning something but...this time, it was more clouded with a certain hunger. "...I'm loyal to the Captain, he needs me here." You said with as much determination as you could muster up.

Tartaglia scoffed. "I know the Captain best, he's all business and no fun. The moment you prove that you'll slow the entire war-party down, he'll send you home." He said. "I've seen how you look at him milashka...he doesn't return your affections."

It was like an arrow pierced your heart right then and there at his words, your eyes widening at the information as you struggled to find a rebuttal. But...you couldn't give him one, although you haven't made your crush to Il Capitano extremely clear, you thought you made it obvious enough that you liked him and hoped that he would reciprocate your feelings. You've delivered gifts, given him compliments here and there, and even tried to initiate a conversation about whether or not he was in a relationship!

He shot it down so quickly, you didn't even think you got your entire sentence out.

Suddenly, Tartaglia's hand slipped to rest on your shoulder as he leaned down a little to coo into your ear. "Aww, don't pout. It's just not his thing to appreciate what's in front of him. Using only brute force and strategy doesn't work for more delicate things such as a pretty girl like yourself." He whispered. "I know how to approach things more delicately though, maybe you'd allow me to show you?" He continued before his hand steadily began to travel to rest upon your breast. Your mind raced with thoughts, switching between Capitano and the situation you were in now.

You wanted Capitano but...if he didn't want you back. You were playing a one-sided game, at least with Tartaglia, he was actively showing you that he wanted something with you. And it didn't help that he was handsome. Charming and good with his words, and seemingly even better with his fingers as he undid your button-up blouse with a single hand before he slowly parted it to reveal your chest. A quiet whistle left his lips at the sight before he slowly moved to stand in front of you, kneeling down with that same carefree smirk on his face that made you weak in the knees. "May I?"

Slowly, you nodded your head.

. . .

Both deadly on the battlefield and with his tongue. Such a combination was a force to be reckoned with. The moment you had nodded your head, Tartaglia wasted no extra time before he sank to his knees and pulled down your pants, pulling aside your already soaked underwear to reveal your waiting pussy to him. "Tartaglia..." You quietly moaned as the eleventh harbinger had your legs currently propped onto his shoulders, his tongue exploring your sex eagerly with a particular focus on your clit.

You watched how his eyes glazed over with lust, a deep groan reverberating in his chest as you gasped at the stimulation when his tongue began to move back and forth. Instinctively, your legs parted further for him, your chest beginning to fall and rise quicker and quicker as you fell deeper into the pit of pleasure that Tartaglia was giving you. "You're so pretty like this," He moaned against your lower lips, giving your clit a kiss before he pulled back to look at you, his index and middle finger moving to rub your clit back and forth as he looked at your face.

You arched forward as he rubbed your clit, his other hand moving to gently insert a finger into you. "Fuck!" You cried out when his finger touched a spongey spot inside of you.

A fox-like smirk crept onto his lips as he poked at that spot with more precision. "Oh~?" He whispered, his head lowering back to your pussy, his eyes still focused on you as his tongue teased your cunt with innocent kitten licks. "Is this your favorite spot?" He teased.

You struggled to keep your eyes from fluttering closed, hot tears brimming your eyeline as you looked down at the ginger as a whine left your lips. "D-Don't tease..." You whispered.

He nearly came untouched at your plea but it was just soooo much fun to mess with you a little, to make you beg and say exactly what you wanted him to do! After all...Il Capitano's favorite little secretary, crying and moaning on his fingers for him to give you more, he couldn't think of a more blood-pumping scenario. "It's so much fun to tease you though!" He finally said before his tongue went back to fully tending to your throbbing clit. A choked-up moan just barely escaped your throat from the sudden pleasure, your hands traveling to grip at his hair.

He groaned deeply at the twinge of pain, his inserted finger speeding up as he sucked and licked at your clit even faster, your body jerking and twitching in response every time he did something good with his talented tongue. "Fuck—! R-Right there...!" You gasped, your nails scraping and combing through his hair as his tongue ran down from your clit to begin prodding and poking at your entrance. Tartaglia let out a whine in response to the continued twinges of pain from you running your hand through his scalp, the whines eventually transitioning to groans as the sound sent intense vibrations through you, making your body unconsciously jerk against his mouth.

Then, he stuck his tongue out more, starting to poke and lick against your warm inner walls, a sensation unlike anything you've ever had the pleasure of experiencing in your life, only increased by the way he started to tongue-fuck your hole. The sensation made you dizzy, and keeping yourself from passing out from the pleasure was beginning to increasingly and increasingly difficult. A lewd mix of spit and cum started to run down from your twitching pussy and down his chin as he added another finger to try and fuck you more open. "Tartaglia!" You whined. "I-If you keep going—" the harbinger interrupted you by suddenly pressing into a completely new and more pleasurable spot than the one he had been pressing against before.

"If I keep doing this, you'll do what milashka~?" He smirked against your soaked cunt. "You'll cum for me?" He whispered. "Please do...I wanna feel this cute pussy throbbing in my mouth first before I fuck you silly with my cock next." A tight feeling started to form in your stomach at his lewd words, your moans growing louder and louder as pleasure-filled tears started to stream down your face. You were so close to the edge...his tongue felt so good to where you clenched, almost afraid to have this end so soon despite the promise that he would give you his cock next.

That is...until, you felt a brush of cold air against your skin, and Tartaglia stopped with an annoyed huff. "Captain," He greeted, the name making your eyes shoot open, your blurry vision moving to see a dark figure at the entrance into the tent before the curtain swiftly closed.

Feeling a sudden sense of shame wash over you, you attempted to close your legs...until Tartaglia forced them to remain open as he stood and moved to the side. "Jealous?" He purred, rubbing the side of his face against your own like a possessive cat. "Your secretary has such a cute voice...you must've heard it, seeing as you came to this tent."

"I expected my secretary to be back at my side an hour ago Tartaglia, only to find out that you're playing games with her." Your cunt clenched at the raspiness in his voice, a sound that you've never heard from the first harbinger before.

"Oh? Then why don't you play with us?"

Your eyes widened. "W-What?" You said in confusion.

"Your secretary here admitted to me that she harbored a crush on you! How cruel of you to not reciprocate her feelings, Captain."

Tartaglia was met with a tense silence. You were so embarrassed that you wanted the ground beneath you to open and swallow you whole, that is...until you felt another larger hand place itself on your thigh, spreading you open a little more. "...I'll play your little game Tartaglia," Capitano said.

"If she cries out my name, you'll proceed to leave my secretary alone from now on."

"And if she cries out mine...I'll be taking her with me."

Archons above...what had you gotten yourself into?

. . .

The sound of frantic plapping noises could be heard throughout the tent as the two harbingers fucked into you simultaneously. After the three of you had moved to the full, Il Capitano manhandling you into a full nelson as he currently fucked into your weeping hole, Tartaglia was left to slowly finger and prep your second hole with a cocky smirk on his face. "Good girl—" the Captain grunted into your ear, practically panting like a dog in heat against you as he effectively left you breathless on his cock. He was thick, the prominent veins on his cock pressed against every sensitive spot along your walls whilst his dick kissed at your cervix repeatedly.

Drool began to dribble out from the side of your mouth as your hands were locked in place with how hard your thighs were clenched to your torso, in an effort for Capitano to not only better fit himself inside of you but also for him to look over your shoulder to see how good he was making you into a cock-drunk doll.

"I think she likes being played with down here too Captain," Tartaglia moaned as he scissored your ass open, letting spit drip from his mouth and onto your hole as his other hand gently stroked his twitching cock. Through your blurry vision, your mind getting foggier by the second as Capitano didn't even think of slowing his pace to give you a moment to adjust to the preparation of Tartaglia sinking his cock into your hole. You clenched at the idea of being stuffed by two men, a particularly loud moan leaving you when the eleventh harbinger's cockhead pressed against the rim of your ass.

"Patience milashka," He smirked wickedly as he steadily sank into you.

"Fuuuck—!" You cried out, the sheer pressure of his dick entering your ass forcing your first orgasm out of you, much to both of the mens' surprises as Capitano's thrusts stuttered and slowed considerably.

That is, until Tartaglia let out a cocky laugh. "I'll be taking that win Captain!" He said confidently, a moan escaping his lips as soon as he was fully inside of you. "S-She did cum when my dick entered her after all..." He continued breathlessly.

"We'll see if she does that again, Tartaglia." And then, without even allowing another second to pass. The two men both began to fuck into you, the sheer feeling of being full sending you into an almost trance-like state as the lewd sound of squelching and skin slapping against skin filled your ears, your throat being ran raw from the amount of screaming and moaning you did as your head fell to rest on Capitano's shoulder. Until Tartaglia suddenly gripped your chin and forced you to look at him that is.

"Don't be so unfair secretary and give the Captain all your attention...give me some to..." He licked his teeth like a wild animal before his lips pressed against yours, swallowing up your moans as his hands ran up to begin massaging and pinching at your nipples. Capitano groaned at the sight, waiting patiently for Tartaglia to give his fill before his head dipped to kiss and lightly bite at your shoulders. The sharp feeling of teeth nipping at your neck...you had no clue what was hidden behind Capitano's mask but...as he whispered a soft "Look at me" into your ear before his mask pressed closer to you. You were shocked at the long tongue that licked at your lips before it entered your mouth, prodding and tasting at every crevice and corner as even more spit slipped from your mouth.

"S-So tight milashka..." The ginger moaned, his hips beginning to stumble in their rhythm as he felt his orgasm approach.

Capitano parted from your lips to laugh breathlessly. "Already?" The sound of his cocky voice made you tighten against him, the first harbinger clenching his teeth at your cunt tightening around his cock. "I...I thought you'd last longer..." He continued.

"So did I with you." Tartaglia shot back with a huff, pressing himself closer to you as his thrusts increased, the knot from earlier starting back up against as you keened in at the feeling of your approaching orgasm.

"Make sure to scream my name milashka..."

"No, mine."

Their continued pleas and begs for you to say their names fell on deaf ears before you threw your head back to let out a loud cry, a gushing noise just barely reaching your ears before you suddenly felt something hot flooding your insides. "F-Fuck..." Tartaglia whispered against you as he collapsed against your body, still taking care to keep some of his wait off of you to avoid crushing you. "T-Think...your tight ass milked me completely dry..." He giggled drunkenly.

The two men stilled, tremors and pleasure still zapping and coursing through their veins as they allowed themselves to catch their breath whilst keeping themselves snug inside your holes. Soon, however, their attention was drawn back to you as your walls started to clench them once more. "Seems like my secretary wants a little more," Capitano whispered.

"Seems that way," Tartaglia smirked. "A round two does seem to be in order...I didn't quite catch whose name she screamed first." A gasp left your lips when you felt the two harbingers' cocks twitch inside of you.

They'd gladly fuck you until you knew whose name to moan.

[nerdygirlramblings]

omega!soldier continues

previous

Now that you've passed your qualifiers, Price seems almost cocky about having you train with the rest of the team. You're no longer alone with Ghost in the gym but sparring with him, Soap, and Gaz. One teaches you a move and has you practice it on the others: individual hits, combinations, attacks and tactical retreats.

They test your endurance and teach you more efficient ways to fight in close combat. Before them, you might have claimed decent fighting skills, but they push you hard, and you realize you were only fooling yourself. You drill moves over and over until they become muscle memory. Then they set you up to spar beta and omega rookies who won't make waves when you beat them.

When you ask why so much intense fight training is necessary, Ghost replies, "We're a small team, Ren. Often sent in where bigger groups can't easily go. And we rarely have backup." For a moment, his eyes cloud over with a haunted film, but he blinks and it's gone, replaced with pure determination. "'S just us. Need you to be able to defend yourself, defend the pack, in close combat situations." You don't correct his comment about the pack; though you aren't pack yet, you understand how important these men are to one another.

They set you up with routines to maintain your muscle strength, building up what you need to pull off the kinds of maneuvers they show you for taking down larger, most likely more physically powerful, opponents.

Occasionally, even Price comes to training, and that's when things get interesting. When Price is there, you don't do your typical weight training, nor do you spar. Instead , when he's there, Price sets the four of you up in competition on some of the PT qualifier exercises. You're unsurprised to find you can do more pull-ups then Ghost and that Gaz has everyone beat with sit-ups. You're completely floored, however, at how thoroughly you beat all theee men with the beep test.

You can't keep the confusion from you glance when Price catches your eye. He hums and says, "We all gotta keep on top of our training." He smirks and adds, "An' a little friendly competition always brings out the best in these boys."

Soap and Gaz join you on the shooting range. Gaz focuses on your short range weapons; Soap helps Ghost train you on the sniper rifles. "'s good Ren," he tells you. "Price wants to try ye on a few things tae see where ye fit." You've learned by now that he and Ghost tend to take the sniper's nest, and Gaz and Price tend to be the first line breech crew. Price's desire to see where he can best use your skills is understandable and completely expected with his role as task force captain.

Every once in awhile, Price joins you on the shooting range, and the rest of the task force have you show off what you can do like someone showing off their pet's newly learned tricks. If it were anyone else, you might mind the attitude, but you've come to recognize the pride in their voices and stances at how much you're learning and how well you're doing.

You don't ever say it, but you are too. You don't want Price to regret his choice to have you on the task force, so his approval, the lowly murmured "good girl" when you hit a target again, means the world. You know it could easily be condescending, especially from an alpha to an omega, but the warm, honeyed tone is pure appreciation.

As days slide into weeks, there's a shift on base. Alpha scents are more aggressive, dominant. The betas' smells take on an undercurrent of stress. Everywhere you go, there seem to be more people.

The gym is busy when you enter. Most machines and free weights are being used. There are soldiers practicing on the speed bag. A crowd rings the mat as you take down other sergeants - betas and alphas - bodies pressing in but leaving a wide berth around the 141.

On the shooting range, you need to wait for an open lane, or the armory only lets you borrow one or two weapons at a time. And forget moving the target's distance; there are too many soldiers waiting to shift things more than once, so some days you only work with long range weapons while others are short range. Regardless of the day, your shots cluster tightly on your targets.

It strikes you as strange, this seemingly sudden influx of soldiers. But when you ask about it, no one else seems to notice.

"Ah havnae noticed. Maybe squads schedules changed?" Soap proffers.

Gaz is blase, shrugging off your question with, "Nothing seems different to me."

Ghost is the one whose response feels least like it's gaslighting you, though you feel he's still missing something. "Yeah, I seen 'em loitering about. They only wish they were half as good as us. Need all the help they can get to be anywhere near our level "

It comes to a head in the mess at supper a few days later. You're in line between Ghost and Gaz when an alpha storms in, the scent of ozone pouring off him. You can't see any visible rank insignia, but that doesn't matter when he growls, "Which a you cunts is Ren?"

Every hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you momentarily freeze, before a gentle bump from Gaz's tray reminds you to keep moving. You try and put the irate alpha out of mind, grabbing some meatloaf and carrots. But the second, lower growl, the aggressive attack barely restrained, of "Who the fuck is Ren?" is hard to ignore.

Simon and Gaz square up on either side of you and herd you to the table where Price and Soap wait. By now more than half the mess is watching the alpha. Some are spoiling for a fight themselves, the tension you've noticed for days being given a possible outlet. Others are sensibly trying to eat and leave unobtrusively through side doors.

When the alpha snarls and moves to grab a rookie walking by, Price and Ghost are on their feet in an instant. They crowd the other alpha, and Price leans into his space, a hair's breath from the other soldier's face. You can't hear what's said, but you watch the man's face go from red to nearly purple before draining of all color. Price turns to come back, and you watch Ghost band his arms around the aggressive soldier and frog-march him out of the mess.

The tension in the room dissipates almost immediately. You feel like you can breathe again.

Price and Ghost return to the table and sit down to their meals. Everyone tucks in as though nothing happened. A few quiet, tense moments of eating pass before you can't hold you tongue any longer.

"Why did he want me? I've never seen him before," you say, voice low so only your task force can hear you.

"'s nothin' to worry about," Price tells you. "Ferget 'em and eat."

You try, biting down a forkful that turns to ash on your tongue. Soon, though, you simply stop eating. Your fork sits, unmoving, on your plate. Price drops his gaze to it and where you wring your hands.

He sighs, put-upon, but cracks. "'E's mad tha' ya kicked 'im off the board," Price finally admits.

"The boards?" You look around at your team. "What boards?"

"They're like scoreboards," Kyle tells you between bites. "Names of top performances from everything from pushups per minute to time on the distances to tightness on shooting targets."

The furrow between your brows deepens. "How can I have kicked someone off something I didn't know existed?" Your heart rate has been climbing since the alpha first growled your name.

Price ran a hand down his face. "I'm afraid 's my fault, Ren." He meets you eye and tells you, "I been submitting results from some 'a the tests we've done and your work on the range. Seems like no one ever bother to think an omega might make the boards, so no one paid attention before." His bitter disbelief is on full display with his the last sentence. "Told brass not to use your name or designation to keep ya safe, but they had to put something down."

Your name on the boards. You at the top of base records. You don't care if other soldiers know who you are. The idea that Price is so proud he wants you to earn more stars and bars is enough. You finally feel like part of the pack team.

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