#and i asked for towards the end of next week

[tywrites]

heavy | mateo manta

pairing: mateo manta x gn!reader

word count: 1,360 (not proof-read)

warnings: reader is implied to have depression

a/n: okay so this is really bad since i haven't written in quite a long time but!! i love him and i Needed to write something abt him. i desperately need more mateo fics lmao. hope you enjoy <33

-----

You rolled over in your bed, the usually comforting plush of your mattress feeling awfully cold today. You sighed, closing your eyes and quietly hoping to just fall back to sleep. Things had been… difficult recently. Losing your job had definitely taken its toll on you – on your mental health in particular. Even when working from home, you still had to make the time to leave every so often and interact with the real world. But with everything that had happened recently with the dateviators, you hadn’t been able to leave at all.

Of course, you still had the objects. And they were great company! Most of them anyway. But it didn’t stop you from feeling a bit… alone sometimes. You sighed softly, finally accepting the fact that sleep wasn’t coming. You looked over to your end table at the dateviators. You had a lot to do. It was really overwhelming, honestly. You hadn’t even met all of the objects in the house yet, let alone made any progress towards realising any. You had made a lot of close friends through them though. And even one very special, different relationship…

Even just thinking of Mateo brought a slight smile to your face, cheering up your bleak mood ever so slightly. If you’d told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d soon be dating your blanket… well, considering your track record with love, it wouldn’t be all that surprising.

You bit your lip, reaching over to the dateviators. You popped them on, blinking at the warm, pink hue that enveloped your vision. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to this. In a second, Betty had materialised in front of you, perched on the edge of the bed – or uh, on the edge of herself. She gave you a soft smile.

“How’re you feeling today, gorgeous?”

You made a face. “Well for starters, I don’t feel very gorgeous,” you reply groggily, sitting up as you wiped a hand over your tired face.

She chuckled. “Sweetie, you’re always gorgeous to me. But what’s got you so down? You barely slept last night, or the night before… should I be offended?” She was clearly joking, but there was a definite tone of concern in her voice.

“Nah, it’s not you, it’s me,” you admit, looking down at the sheets. “I just… I don’t know. I feel so… heavy? I’m so tired, all the time. Which makes no sense, let’s be real, I’m doing nothing all day but..” You trail off, unsure of how to word it. “I just can’t sleep though. I can’t relax. I feel so tense all the time and I don’t see a way out of it. Easier to just lay in bed, I guess,”

She looks at you, worry in her eyes. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. You try your best to force a smile.

“Not really. I think it’s just… something I have to deal with on my own,”

She frowned. “Honey, I don’t think-”

“I’ll see you tonight, Betty. Thanks for the talk,” you said quickly, standing up and heading to the bathroom, leaving Betty sitting on the bed, her face twisted in concern.

-------------

You’d spent most of the day dodging the other objects. Mateo especially. You just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone right now. You left the dateviators on the table next to you, doom scrolling on your phone until the socially acceptable time to hit the hay. You were planning to go straight to bed, not call on anyone with the dateviators. The idea of bothering any of them, of forcing them to sit and listen to your silly problems was excruciating. But as you settled down into bed, trying in vain to close your eyes and let sleep come for you, there was only one thing on your mind.

You knew how upset Mateo would be if he knew you were avoiding him, especially if he knew it was because you weren’t feeling the greatest. Helping others is what drove him, it was the one thing he took pride in the most. He’d never let you wallow in your own self pity. You glanced at the glasses on your bedside table and sighed in defeat. You slid them on slowly.

You hadn’t even had them on for a few seconds before Mateo was materialising. You didn’t expect him to be right here, waiting for you. He was usually in the living room, caring for the inanimals. That man never took a break. When you saw the worried expression on his sweet face, you wanted to break down there and then.

“Ah mi vida, finally!” He said, sitting down onto the edge of the bed. “I’ve been waiting for you all day,”

You flushed in embarrassment. So he’d been watching your pathetic display of self-loathing, huh? “Sorry, Mateo… I’ve just been, um, tired,” you said, avoiding his eyes. If there was anything in this world that could make you immediately spill all your darkest secrets, it was Mateo’s big, brown eyes.

“I’ve noticed… my love, I’m worried about you. Betty came to me earlier and told me you haven’t been sleeping. Is that true?” He asked tactfully.

“Betty said that?” Betrayal, you thought.

“She was worried. Honestly, a lot of us have been worried. You haven’t been acting like yourself for a while now. If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, you know you just have to ask, right? I would do anything for you,” he said, a small blush rising to his cheeks. “I mean, I’d hope you’d know that…”

You finally look at him, truly seeing the concern on his features. His bedhead was especially messy today, as though he’d been running his hand through it every five seconds. His usual easy smile was replaced with a small frown and you realised something. In that moment, you would do anything to see that smile again. As you were preoccupied with gazing into his eyes, Mateo took this opportunity to place his hand over yours. His touch was feather soft as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. You could almost feel your anxiety melting away.

You finally spoke.

“Mateo?”

“Yes, amor?”

“Could… could we cuddle?”

You ignore the burning in your cheeks and make your request, looking down at his hand still on yours. You focused on his touch. His touch seemed to make many things a whole lot easier.

At your words, a huge grin took over Mateo’s face. “You never even have to ask,” he said, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a soft kiss onto the back of it.

You manoeuvred yourself so there would be room for Mateo beside you, turning so your back was towards him. He wasted no time in enveloping you in his arms, pulling you into the comforting warmth of his chest. His face snuggled into the crook of your neck and he took a deep breath in.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this. The inanimals have missed you too…”

An arrow of guilt hit you right in the heart.

“I’m really sorry, ‘Teo… I-”

“You have no reason to be sorry, amor. Look, I can tell you’re struggling right now. And there’s nothing wrong with that at all, you have nothing to be ashamed about. But you have people around you that can help share your load, okay? You taught me that when we first met. When you bottle it all inside, it’s just too heavy for one person to handle. I want to help you. Please let me,”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You sniffled, wiping them away as quick as you could but they just kept coming. Mateo brought up the sleeve of his plush duvet jacket, wiping away the tears as they trickled down your face. You both said nothing. You laid there, wrapped up in Mateo’s arms, feeling more safe and secure than you had in a very long time. If Mateo was there to help you hold it, maybe things could be a lot lighter from now on.

[laceyluvver]

Summer Lovin’

summary: a hot one night stand ends in an unfortunate coincidence. wc: 2215 warnings: SMUT (mdni), piv, unprotected (wrap it), one night stand, riding.

____

The boiling hot florida sun beat down mercilessly, warming your skin as you relax back onto your beach towel, looking up into the blue sky. The beach was relatively quiet, only commuters and people who wanted a good spot. However, the sun was still shining and your tan was slowly building.

Slowly, more families filter onto the beach turning from a quiet peace where you could hear every bird chirp, to splashing, screaming and sand in between small toes.

You sit up, almost packing your bag and getting ready to leave when something catches your eye. He’s tall, dark hair and absolutely jacked. He kicks some sand behind him as he throws a ball to a small blond boy. He catches it and the man runs over to him, picking him up and spinning him around with a smile on his face. You were shameless ogling.

They go back to throwing the ball to each other. After five minutes, the man runs over to his bag, taking off his shirt. Suddenly, he looks up and the pair of you lock eyes. He smirked. Shifting your eyes back down to the untouched book in your lap, eyes moving over the words but not taking any of it in.

Then, a woman with blonde curly hair made her way over to the pair, hugging blonde boy. The wife, you assumed. Realising your fun was over, you pack up your bag and leaving the beach.

____

The night at the resort was much cooler, a light breeze pulls through the resort, making your hair sway slightly. The bar was busy, the dance floor was bustling and the music was loud enough to drown out your thoughts. Ordering some sort of tropical cocktail, you sip on it through the swirly straw, you hear a voice behind you.

“Aren’t you too young to be drinking that?” You spin around and it’s the man from earlier.

You smile. “Aren’t you too old to be drinking that? Might make you senile.” You nod to the beer he has in his hand.

He pulls out the bar stool next to you and sits down, leaning on the bar.

“How was your book?” He asks, a smirk on his face.

“Don’t you have a wife?”

Taking a sip of your drink you turn your head to look at him.

“No, the kid is my son, but the woman is his aunt.” He explains.

“Well then, my book was very interesting.” You reply, now turning your body towards him. “Came with a view too.”

“You are not shy.” He states, laughing and his shoulders shake. “How old even are you.” He asks.

“Twenty five, you?”

“Thirty eight.”

There’s a beat of silence between you, just staring at each other.

“Ten years, I hope i’m not too young for you.” You laugh.

“You’re not.” He responds simply.

“On vacation?” You ask, downing the rest of your drink.

“Yeah, I got two weeks off of work. What about you?” He ushers the bartender over and gets you another drink, the same as before, then a scotch neat for himself.

“I’m moving state, while the movers get my stuff to my new house I stopped off here.” You explain and thank him for the drink.

Suddenly, your favourite song comes on and you hop off of the stool. “Cmon you have the come dance with me.” You grab your glass and start walking backwards.

“Now that’s something I’m too old for.” He laughs and leans back.

“Well suit yourself.” You shimmy backwards onto the dance floor and stare at him and shook your hips to the beat. Spinning around, your skirt fanning out as you twirl.

“Come on.” You mouth to him at the bar and flap your hand towards him. Finally, he stands up and wanders onto the floor.

“I don’t dance.” He says from behind you, leaning down to your ear.

“Well too bad, I do.” You laugh and feel a hand slide up your ribs as you lean back into his hard chest. You can feel his pecs from under his polo and his other hand grips onto your hip.

"I like this dress." He murmurs into your neck, his nose pressing into you and his hand on your hip grips tightly.

“Thank you, it was expensive.” You giggle as the two of you sway to the beat, feeling the alcohol you take another sip of your drink.

The two of you sway and he spins you around so you’re now face to face. “Hey,” You whisper.

“Hey.” He responds, you look into his eyes and see that they are the same mesmerising shade of brown as his hair.

“Do you want to come back to my room?” You whisper, your finger running up the centre of his chest, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt.

“Yeah.” He nods, and you take his hand and lead him through the dance floor and into the hotel. The long winding and repeating halls of the hotel started to make you slightly nervous. Finally getting to your room you click open the door with the keycard and shove him into the room.

You are then quickly pressed against the closed door and he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his torso. Then finally your lips press against his and you let out a sigh, all of the previous nerves dissipating as your hands snake into his neat hair, leaving it a disheveled mess.

You pull away quickly. “I don’t know your name.”

“Aaron.”

You tell him yours. He reconnects your lips and you slide your hands downwards, and run a finger along his bulge, feeling the zipper on his slacks.

“You certainly don’t take things slow.” He sucks in a breath and now your whole hand cups him and you run your tongue up the length of his neck.

“Mm, why would I waste precious time.” You hum and start to leave a small hickey on the side of his neck.

He lets out a deep grunt and pulls you away from the door and quickly throws you onto the small bed. Your back hits the clean hotel sheets and you bounce lightly.

Crawling up the bed, he shoves a hand under your dress, pulling down your panties and shoves it into his back pocket.

Meanwhile, you pull up the bottom of his shirt and see the same sight from earlier on the beach. This time close up and personal. “Even better close up.”

You flip around and straddle him, kissing down his chest leaving light lipstick marks on his pecks and down through his abs. You can feel his fingers tugging gently at the roots of your hair, and you make your way back up to his face leaving another light kiss on his lips before pulling the top of your dress down.

“Holy fuck.” He whispers and his hands immediately branch out and massage you gently, his long fingers delicately brushing over your nipple, making you gasp.

As he gropes you, you slide your hands down to his slacks, pulling the button open and yanking down the zip. Then making quick work of his boxers.

“Oh my God.” You whisper in shock at the size of him.

“What?” He asks.

“You’re fucking huge.”

He gets shy at that and a light flush runs over his cheeks. “Well I’m not a small man.” He chuckles.

You feel his hands sliding down to your dress, then pulling off the bottom half. Leaving the both of now completely undressed and staring at each other.

Shuffling up, you grab him and start to slowly sink down onto him. He groans, you gasp and paw at his chest hair.

“So big.” You whisper breathlessly and slowly grind back and forth to get used to his size. He grabs at your hips and guides you slowly before you start to bounce up and down, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

You swept your hair back, tits bouncing in his face as you make small noises, trying to not disturb the rooms next to you.

Suddenly, he pulls you to his chest and starts fucking up into you roughly and you can’t help the loud, eye rolling sound that fell out of your mouth. “Aaron.”

You can almost hear the smirk in his voice. “There we go.”

He keeps up the rough pace and the headboard starts to bang against the wall and your moans and his groans start to get louder.

“Oh fuck.” You almost scream as you get close to the edge and you can tell he is too, by the faltering pace of his strokes.

Whimpering, your legs shake lightly and he pushes you over the edge with one more deep stroke hitting directly on your sweet spot.

Aaron pulls out, cumming inbetween the two of you and you both lay there for a second, before you start giggling.

“That was so fucking good.” You sigh and roll off of him.

“Agreed.” He chuckles, then shuffling off the edge of the bed and going into the bathroom then coming back with a wet cloth. Cleaning the both of you up he sighs. “I should head back, I’ll need to see Jack when he wakes up.”

You smile. “You here for much longer?”

“No, we’re leaving tomorrow afternoon. You?”

“Me too.” You can’t help but disappointed that you’ll never see him again. “Well, I’ll let you go.” Wrapping the hotel robe around your frame, he gets dressed and heads out.

“Thanks for the-.” He starts but you cut him off.

“Thanks for the..” You smile and give him a small wave before clicking the door shut and flopping back on the bed.

It wasn’t till the next morning that you realised that he’d stolen your panties.

“Motherfucker.”

____

“Hotch has a hickey.” Derek says as he watches his boss stride through the bullpen.

“What?” Jj spins around on her chair and whips her head around to look at him.

“Well he did just come back from vacation.” Spencer says, shrugging.

“Now what are you guys gossiping about?” Rossi comes up behind them placed his briefcase on the floor.

“Hotch has a hickey.” Emily explains.

“Well good for him.” Rossi answers simply then heads up to his office.

Rossi walks into Hotch’s office and slowly shuts the door behind him. “Well I guess someone had fun on vacation.” He laughs.

“So everyone knows.” Hotch replies simply and continues writing.

“Of course.”

Back in the bullpen, the rest of the team look through the window expectantly.

“So unfair Rossi gets all the deets.” Penelope sighs leaning on Derek. “We could give great advice.”

“I think that’s why he doesn’t tell us.” Jj smiles.

Before Penelope can respond the elevator opening catches their attention and out walks a woman, formally dressed carrying a file.

“Can I help you?” Emily asks.

“I’m looking for an Agent Hotchner, I have an interview.” You say.

“Oh yeah, I’ll take you up to his office.”

You follow behind her nervously as she knocks on the door.

“Hotch, your interview is here.”

She opens the door wider and you are greeted by an awfully familiar face. A flicker of shock flashes through your eyes but then you remember you’re surrounded by profilers, steeling your expression, you give a small wave.

“We will continue this later.” Rossi says pointing at him, filing out of the office with Emily.

“Take a seat.” He says, motioning to the chair infront of his desk.

“Here’s my credentials.” You say awkwardly and hand over your file, avoiding his eyes.

He flicks through it slowly and reads through everything thoroughly.

“You have great agent experience, lots of field experience for someone your age.” He states. “Show me your profiling skills.”

“What.” You stutter out.

“Look out the window and profile my team.”

You stand and look out the window.

“The blonde got ready in a rush this morning. Her clothes are similar but not from the same set. She is closest with the two women on the team, the other blonde and the woman who showed me in here.” You start. “The bald guy is the joker, he’s making everyone laugh, has a crush on the colourful blonde. And they’re also all wondering why they’re staring at them.”

“Good.” He says simply, turning and sitting back at his desk. “Expand on the crush comment.”

“His body is turned towards her, he wants to make her laugh the most and looks happy everytime she leans into him.” You sigh.

“I’m not sure if you’ll be a good fit for our team.” He starts.

“I think you should know I come heavily recommended by Strauss. And she wouldn’t be too happy if you turned me away from this role.” You respond.

You see his jaw clench. “Fine. You can have the position.”

“Thank you.” You say with a tight smile and stand up. “Let me know when you want me to start.” Walking towards the door of his office you pause and turn back.

“Oh and I want my underwear back.”

____

Hey gang!! i’m finally back and writing!! sorry if this is a bit shit as it’s been so long but i hope you enjoyed. PLEASE LIKE FOLLOW AND REBLOG!!!!!!

let me know if you want a part 2!! or leave requests in my inbox!

[hahaifolded]

hello!!!!!

I don’t know if this is a stupid or unnecessary ask but how would Kyle and the team react to Soap and Reader’s break up? Would they notice a difference since Soap wouldn’t be so happy and loud anymore? Maybe he would just whine and complain the whole time, and it happened too much that one of them pushed him to confess what happened (I would believe that to be Kyle since we called him and not the captain or such). I might be going off topic and beginning to rant right here, I am so sorry!!!! 🫶🏽

Enjoy this rough, continuation of Cellophane (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x POC!GN Reader

Warnings: MDNI, ANGST (racism), comparatively not as bad as the first part, Johnny still sucks however, mid-writing, abrupt ending Author's Note: You know what, I wasn't going to do a part two but I read this and boom... thoughts! Thank you for the ask, @shitaaba

Has the sun ever felt better on his skin? Gaz doesn’t think so.

What a perfect day! No early meetings or training. Sun is shining, the town isn’t too busy, and Kyle finally has time to hit that coffee shop you and Johnny showed him all those months ago. 

You and Johnny… what a beautiful couple. Well mostly you but Kyle will keep that to himself as he doesn’t need Johnny on his back for “fucking you with his eyes” again. His teammate sure is a lucky man, especially since Kyle isn’t a homewrecker, because if Gaz had his way, you’d be right next to h— 

“Ah!” Kyle quickly grabs at the poor soul that he smacked into. 

“Shit, so sorry. Are you ok… oh, it’s you!” he first apologizes then gleams. What a strange coincidence. Is this manifestation? 

You look up and immediately pull away from his grasp. Your eyes are wide as they wander for a quick getaway. “Don’t even worry about it. If you’ll excuse me,” you rush out as you side-step Kyle. 

Kyle blocks you and throws you a warm smile as an attempt to ease your embarrasment. “Woah, woah, why the rush? It’s been awhile. What, Johnny has you caged up?” Gaz laughs at his own joke. He thought that would for sure make you laugh. It doesn’t.

Your face falls, and for the first time ever, Kyle sees you shrink. Your energy completely dissipates as discomfort overtakes you. 

“Hey, everything okay?” Kyle softens his voice and reaches out, laying a gentle hand on your upper arm in an attempt to lift you up. You slowly step away from it which only worries Kyle more. “What happened? Did Johnny do something?” 

“John and I broke up.” 

-- -- --

“Up for drinks tonight boys? My treat,” announces Price at the end of the team meeting.

“Sure.”

“As long as you pay, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“Can’t.”

“Again Johnny? This is the fifth time you’ve bailed on us,” Ghost remarks. 

Soap lets out a deep laugh. “You’re just bitter that I have something sweeter waiting for me at home.” Ghost rolls his eyes while Price laughs. 

“Wanker.” 

Soap, Ghost, and Price all turn towards Kyle. Did he just call Soap a wanker? Why?

“Just a wee joke. Meant no harm,” Soap yields. Gaz just rolls his eyes and continues packing his things. 

Instead of engaging with Gaz, Johnny decides to concede and continue packing. Clearly something is bothering his fellow sergeant but Soap knows it's better to wait until Kyle opens up. And if he’s honest to himself, he really doesn’t have the capacity right now for other people’s problems.  He has enough of his own. 

“Before I forget, ma has been nagging me to bring you guys over for dinner again. Worried that we’re starving or something. Think next week works for all of ya?” 

“Sure.”

“Should I bring anything?”

“Your mom okay with me coming?”

Ghost and Price do a double take as Kyle’s question catches them off guard. Kyle pays them no attention as he stares down Soap who’s smile drops. 

However, as fast as it dropped, it immediately reappeared. “What kind of question is that? Course she knows,” the Scotsman smiles. 

Kyle chuckles in disbelief. “Really? So she knows about me but not your bird?” 

“What?” Soap’s entire demeanor changes. His confident, go-lucky self crumbles, now replaced with shame and discomfort. “What are you on about?”

“Mate, you can’t be serious?” Kyle barks. He takes a step forward towards his counterpart but is stopped by a confused, but attentive captain. Price steps in and asks for an explanation. 

Kyle stares Soap down and bites, “you want to tell them or should I?”  All color drains from Soap's face

“That’s enough you two,” Ghost jumps in, unable to take this anymore. “Whatever problems Johnny is having with his bird is between him and—“

“They broke up two months ago!” Kyle finally exclaims. Ghost’s eyes widened. Price’s jaw drops. That made no sense as just last week, Johnny went on and on about the perfect getaway you two went on. Ghost and Price look to Johnny for answers, but with the way Johnny is standing, head down, shoulders slumped, their questions are answered. 

“Johnny, what happened?” Price tries to comfort the Scotsman. He saw how happy you made the sergeant happy. He even had a heart-to-heart with Johnny when he expressed his desire to marry you. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’ll tell you why.” And with that, Kyle goes off. He tells the team how Johnny, despite claiming to love you more than life itself, refused to fight for you. ”I bet you’re just like your parents,” spits Kyle. 

“You don’t get it,” counters Johnny. His face twists in despair. 

“What’s not to get? Your parents are fucking racist and you refuse to do anything about it.” Kyle couldn’t believe it. Johnny is his friend, his comrade, his brother in arms; despite everything they’ve gone through, Kyle thought he could trust the Scotsman. And worst of all, he wasn’t the one who got hurt, it was you, sweet, beautiful you got hurt. “You’re pathetic. You never fucking deserved them!” 

“That’s enough,” Price puts his foot down. His face stern. He gestures to Soap and sends him to his office. Soap drops his head and nods in defeat. As Johnny walks away, Price lets out a deep breath and asks Ghost to watch Kyle before heading off himself.

The lieutenant and sergeant stand in silence as Kyle is way too angry to speak and Ghost is just uncomfortable by the entire situation. Did Johnny really lose you because of his parents? Ghost couldn’t believe it. He’s seen firsthand how Johnny furiously defended you during late nights out at the bar when other soldiers got a little too crude with the way they spoke about you. Ghost personally has had to rip the sergeant off one too many times from rude allies. What made Ghost even more uncomfortable was the amount of time he’s spent with Johnny’s family and never once got the feeling that his parents were racist. They’ve always been kind to the Lietenant. He assumed it was because of his rank or even his own past, never for… 

“Kyle?” Kyle cocks his head towards Ghost, eyes still buring with rage. “Has his parents ever…”

“No,” Kyle admits. He exhales deeply, his shoulders easing a bit. “I mean, there's been some weird comments here and there but I just assumed it was cause they’re old, never…” Kyle trails off, clearly affected by everything. 

Ghost just nods. He stays quiet for a bit until another question pops in his head. “Are they okay?” 

Kyle shrugs his shoulders. “They’re alright. Still hurt but they’ll survive” 

Ghost hums. He has a million other questions but decides to stay quiet. As much as he wants to know how Kyle found out or what (but really who) you’re doing these days, Ghost sees that Kyle is just exhausted. So with that, the two men finish packing in silence. With their bags in hand, they both leave the conference room, walking side by side in the hallway. 

Kyle pulls out his phone and lets out a small chuckle. Ghost can’t help but give Gaz a weird look. What’s so funny? 

“You know something, L.T., I don’t even feel bad anymore.” Ghost tilts his head as Kyle shows him something on his phone.

You: Saturday works for me! 

Word Count: 1246

Thanks for reading! - Fold's Page Guide + Masterlist

[camficdiner]

hi queen!! i love your fics so much!! could i pls get 1.1, 2.4, 3.6, 4.3??

Cam’s Fic Diner - order 036

🍒 thank you

To the angel who sent in “fake dating at a wedding” — you had no idea what kind of chaos you were about to unleash. This request started as a fun trope and turned into a full-blown summer saga with soft launches, PR contracts, and a very real Jack Hughes confession under silk sheets 😮‍💨

You lit the match — I just followed the fire.

Thank you for trusting Cam’s Fic Diner with your brilliant prompt. You’re always welcome back for another round 💌

💬 “The Golden Hour Contract”

✨ Description and prompts:

Character: Jack Hughes

Prompt: fake dating for PR, athlete!reader 

Word count: ~2.1k

Type: Mixed smut/fluff 

🛼🍒✨🧁

You were used to headlines. But never the good kind.

Tennis’s “dark darling.” The “racket-throwing riot.” Uncoachable. Cold. Impossible to brand. Your last post-match conference ended with a water bottle launched into a camera lens. Your agent nearly quit. Again.

So when you got the call — We’ve got a meeting in Jersey. Pack for two nights. Big opportunity — you assumed it was a last-ditch sponsorship fix. A new racquet deal. Maybe some lifestyle brand willing to gamble on your bite.

You did not expect to be sitting in a conference room at the Prudential Center, staring across the table at Jack Hughes.

He looked… exactly like he did in the media.

Lean, clean-shaven, collared shirt rolled up at the forearms. One chain. One dimple. Arms crossed, smile faint. Like this wasn’t the weirdest meeting of his life.

Your manager cleared his throat.

“So here’s the pitch.”

You blinked. “Pitch?”

“You and Jack,” he said, gesturing vaguely, “are going to date.”

You turned to Jack. His expression didn’t change.

“For… PR,” your manager added.

A beat of silence.

“Excuse me?” you said.

The Devils’ team rep slid a folder toward you. “Public sentiment’s down across both sides. You’re polarizing. Jack’s too clean. This is mutually beneficial. It’s… strategic.”

Jack’s voice was dry. “We take a few pictures. Couple events. Look cozy. Maybe smile at each other once or twice.”

You glared. “You want this?”

“I want the media to get off my ass about not being interesting,” he said. “And apparently, you’re chaos incarnate.”

You stood up. “Absolutely not.”

But your manager didn’t flinch. “You’ve got three fines and zero endorsements this quarter.”

“And you,” the Devils’ rep added, turning to Jack, “keep getting accused of being too soft. Too vanilla.”

Jack raised a brow. “So now I’m supposed to date a girl who threw a racquet at a ref?”

You snorted. “He deserved it.”

Jack’s lips twitched.

“And,” the rep added with venomous calm, “you’ll both be attending a wedding together next month. In Capri.”

You froze.

Jack blinked. “I’m sorry—what?”

“A destination wedding,” your agent said, chipper now. “Very photogenic. We’ve already RSVPed.”

You sat back down slowly.

Your fingers tapped the table. You looked at Jack.

He met your eyes.

Smug. Calm. Challenging.

“You game, Hughes?” you asked.

His grin spread. “Always.”

—

The press release dropped two weeks later.

BREAKING: Hockey’s Golden Boy Jack Hughes Spotted Courtside With Tennis’s Baddest Bitch

Jack Hughes’ New Flame? Fans Lose It Over PR Power Couple

Your post? A cryptic Instagram story: a pasta dish, expensive sunglasses on the table.

Caption: you wish you were invited to this dinner.

Jack reposted it.

With a heart emoji.

That’s when Quinn called.

“You’re dating her?”

Jack held the phone away from his ear. “Good to hear from you too, Quinn.”

“Jack. Be serious. You’ve seen what they write about her. She threw a racquet at a judge—”

“She’s not that bad.”

“Jack.”

“I’ve met worse.”

“Jack.”

“She makes it interesting, okay?”

A pause. Then: “This is about Lily, isn’t it?”

Jack’s jaw ticked.

“Jesus,” Quinn muttered. “You’re soft-launching a PR girlfriend to recover from a real breakup?”

Jack hung up.

Luke was worse.

He just sent a screenshot of the article with a voice note: bro… bro. Her? Seriously?

Jack deleted it without opening.

Because here’s the thing — he hadn’t been able to shake the way you looked at him that day in the conference room. Like you didn’t care who he was. Like you were two seconds away from biting his head off.

And maybe… maybe that was the whole point.

Because the media had spent months dissecting his last breakup — saying he wasn’t passionate enough, wasn’t bold, wasn’t interesting.

He was tired of being branded the sweet one. The safe one. The boring one.

So he posted the pasta story. Reposted your story. Let the storm roll in.

Let them all talk.

Let them wonder why Jack Hughes, Mr. Perfect, had suddenly gone rogue.

—

The villa was drenched in sunlight.

Capri looked fake — like someone had turned the saturation too high. Every terrace dripped bougainvillea. Every window was open, catching sea breeze and whispering silk curtains.

You stood on the marble balcony in a lemon-colored dress, sipping something bubbly, sunglasses low on your nose. You didn’t turn when Jack stepped beside you.

“You clean up,” he said slowly, “terrifyingly well.”

You let him look.

Low back. Tiny straps. Bronze skin. Tattoos catching golden hour light.

“You look like you should come with a warning,” he muttered.

“I do,” you said, sipping. “Your brothers read it out loud to you.”

Jack laughed under his breath. “They’re not over it, by the way.”

“Shocker.”

He pulled out his phone. “Quinn sent me: ‘please remind your fake girlfriend not to curse out the flower girl.’”

You grinned. “Did you?”

“I told him to worry about his own plus one.”

You turned. “He didn’t bring one.”

He met your eyes. “Exactly.”

Your heart stuttered.

It’s fake, you reminded yourself.

But then he leaned in and fixed your strap, fingers grazing your skin like he meant it — and everything fake felt far too real.

—

You made it exactly nineteen minutes into the rehearsal dinner before Jack’s hand slid to your thigh under the table.

You nearly choked on your wine.

“What are you doing?” you hissed, smile still plastered for the couple across from you.

He murmured, “Just playing the part.”

His fingers stayed there.

Warm. Heavy. Possessive.

You didn’t move.

Not even when his thumb slowly traced a circle.

Later, when you stood for pictures, he rested his chin on your shoulder like it was nothing. Like his breath wasn’t brushing your skin. Like your body hadn’t just betrayed you entirely.

Your smile for the camera was dangerous.

His? Infuriatingly perfect.

—

The suite was stunning.

Which almost made up for the single bed.

Jack raised a brow. “Seriously?”

The host had given you the honeymoon room. As a gesture.

He turned to you. “You want the right or the left side?”

You kicked off your heels. “I want sleep and zero conversation.”

“You got it, princess.”

You brushed your teeth.

He undressed.

And when you emerged from the bathroom, hair damp, skin clean, you found him shirtless, reading a book on the bed like he didn’t just ruin your night with a bare torso and low-slung sweatpants.

He looked up.

And his eyes… didn’t leave your legs.

Or your oversized tee that didn’t quite hide the shape beneath.

“Problem?” you asked.

His jaw twitched.

“Nope.”

He turned off the light.

But the heat between you stayed on full flame.

—

It’s fake, it’s fake, it’s fake.

That’s what you told yourself the next day — while you danced in the sun, smiled in designer heels, and let Jack rest a hand on your back in every photo.

That’s what you reminded yourself when people whispered “they’re kind of perfect together” and your cheeks flushed hot.

And that’s what you screamed inside your head when you saw him talking to the bride’s cousin — some blonde with a backless dress and a fake giggle — and felt your stomach burn.

You didn’t even realize you were staring until Jack looked across the garden, eyes narrowing.

He excused himself from the girl mid-sentence.

Stormed toward you.

Grabbed your hand.

Pulled you around the corner, into a hallway off the terrace, near the powder room.

The music faded.

His back hit the wall.

He pulled you with him.

“Are you jealous?” he asked, voice low.

“No,” you lied, furious.

He grinned.

You grabbed his collar.

His mouth crashed into yours.

It wasn’t slow.

It wasn’t careful.

It was everything the contract said you couldn’t do.

And it was the only real thing you’d felt in weeks.

His hands found your waist. Yours tangled in his curls. He kissed like he wanted it — like he needed it — like he’d been holding it in since New Jersey.

You moaned into his mouth.

He cursed into yours.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless, dizzy, ruined—

He said, “Tell me it’s fake now.”

You didn’t answer.

You couldn’t.

Because your hand was already unbuckling his belt.

And he was already backing you into the guest bathroom.

And the wedding music kept playing, far away — like you weren’t breaking every rule you’d signed.

—

The next morning was quiet.

You ate breakfast on the terrace.

He sat across from you.

Sunglasses. Bed hair. Barefoot.

He didn’t speak until you looked at him.

Then, calmly, softly, he said, “Stay with me. Even after the wedding.”

You blinked.

“I mean it,” he said. “Come with me to Quinn’s birthday party”

Your breath caught.

And maybe for the first time in your life — you didn’t feel like the scandal.

You felt like the story.

You land in Vancouver two days before Quinn’s birthday.

Jack insists on flying you in himself. First class. Quiet flight. Shared headphones. Champagne you barely touch.

You rest your head on his shoulder.

He doesn’t move for the entire six-hour flight.

—

The party is small.

Just family, close friends, a few Devils and Canucks teammates in vacation mode. The restaurant is candlelit, tucked in a private upstairs floor, music soft and jazzed.

You wear silk. Emerald green.

He wears black. No tie. Hair messy like he never even tried.

He can’t stop looking at you.

Everyone else tries not to stare.

Quinn gives a speech. So does Luke.

Someone clinks a glass. The cake comes out.

Jack stands suddenly. “Wait—one second.”

The whole room quiets.

He clears his throat. Nervous.

You blink.

“I just—uh. Wanted to say thanks to Quinn for being the best older brother a guy could ask for. And also—” he turns, finds your hand on the table, links your fingers like it’s instinct “—also for not strangling me when I brought her to the wedding.”

Laughter. Lighthearted groans. Quinn raises his glass with a smirk.

You squeeze Jack’s fingers under the table.

He doesn’t let go.

—

You leave early.

Too many cameras. Too much press.

Jack says he’s tired.

You say nothing.

But when he pushes you into the wall of the hotel suite, mouth already crashing into yours, you understand why he really left.

You taste champagne and heat and everything you’ve been holding in for weeks.

He pulls your dress up, hands rough. “Been thinking about this all night.”

“You mean all month,” you pant.

His laugh is low, wrecked. “Touché.”

You reach for his belt.

He catches your wrist.

“No.”

You look up, startled.

“I want to see you first.”

You blink. “You see me now.”

“No.” His voice softens, deepens. “Not like that. I want the lights on. I want to remember all of it.”

Your heart trips.

He unzips your dress slowly.

Lets it fall.

He peels it off like it’s a promise — not a distraction.

And when you’re left in nothing but your heels and breathless silence, he just stands there, jaw clenched, eyes burning.

“You’re unreal,” he says. “Like… how are you real?”

You laugh. “Jack—”

He cuts you off with a kiss. Long. Deep. Hungry.

When you reach for him again, this time he lets you.

Clothes come off in silence.

Except for the moan he lets out when you drop to your knees and taste him — slow, teasing, cruel.

He doesn’t last long.

You don’t want him to.

He tugs you up, pulls you into his lap on the edge of the bed.

“No games this time,” he whispers. “I want to be inside you. Real. No pretending.”

You nod, lips parted.

He pushes in — slow, inch by inch, until you’re full.

You both breathe hard.

He holds your face.

“This isn’t PR anymore.”

You nod again.

“I don’t want the contract. I want you.”

And then he moves.

Slow at first — maddeningly slow — like he’s memorizing every sound you make, every twitch of your hips.

His mouth finds your neck, your chest, your collarbone.

His fingers dig into your waist.

Your nails scratch his back.

“Tell me it’s real,” he begs.

“It’s real,” you say.

He moves faster.

“Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

He thrusts harder.

You fall apart in his arms, shaking, breathless, overwhelmed.

He follows seconds later, forehead pressed to yours, hand still tangled in your hair.

After, he wraps you in the sheets, chest to chest, heart to heart.

You lie there, tangled.

Breathing.

You think it’s over.

It’s not.

He leans up on one elbow.

Looks down at you.

And says softly, “Come to New Jersey.”

You blink.

“Stay with me. Let them talk. Let them say whatever. I don’t care if it started fake. I want you. At my games. In my house. In my bed.”

You swallow.

“Make it real,” he whispers. “Let’s do this for real.”

You say nothing.

Just pull him down and kiss him like a yes.

—

[girly-girlk]

Hi! I don’t know if you’ve already written something like this, but if not could you write a fic about firefighter Rafe and reader meeting? Like maybe she’s a waitress at the firehouse’s favorite diner?

diner

firefighter!rafe cameron x reader

summary: rafe is a regular at the diner you work at

a/n: sorry this one took so long, but i absolutely love it! i hope you enjoy!!💕

the bell above the door jingles at exactly 9:14 a.m.

like clockwork.

you’re already behind the counter, tying your apron tight and jotting down today’s pie special on the chalkboard when they come in — the southport fire crew. four of them, loud and laughing, tracking in sand and smoke and the faint scent of cedarwood. they pile into their usual booth like it’s their booth, and honestly, maybe it is.

you’ve been working at shoreline diner for two weeks now. long enough to learn their orders, but not long enough to stop watching one of them a little too closely.

rafe cameron.

he’s the last to come in, always is. tall, sun-tanned, with a jawline you could cut yourself on and arms that strain the sleeves of his navy uniform t-shirt. there’s a lazy swagger to the way he walks, like he knows people watch him.

he definitely knows you do.

“morning, darlin’,” topper grins, flipping his menu even though he always orders the same thing.

“french toast and black coffee, i know,” you say, already scribbling it down. “kelce, eggs over easy, bacon burnt to hell—”

“you get me,” kelce winks.

and then your pen stalls.

rafe lides into the booth last, glancing up at you with that maddeningly calm expression he always wears — like he’s not even trying to be charming, he just is. you swear there’s the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it’s gone too quick to be sure.

“you takin’ care of us today?” he asks, voice low and scratchy like he just woke up.

“i guess that depends,” you shoot back, trying not to sound breathless. “you planning to tip better than last time?”

topper howls. rafe raises both eyebrows, mock-offended.

“she got you there, man,” jj grins around a mouthful of hash browns from someone else’s plate.

rafe doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“i’ll make it up to you,” he says. not a joke. not a line. just a promise that settles deep in your chest, low and warm.

you don’t reply. you can’t — not without your voice shaking — so you nod and head toward the kitchen, scribbling “pancakes, extra butter, side of sausage” on your pad before he even says it.

⸻

they’re halfway through their meal when the first call comes in. the scanner at the counter crackles to life, dispatch barking out a structure fire off main.

rafe is already standing, sliding cash under his plate, eyes on you.

“you work weekends?” he asks, helmet tucked under one arm, sweat already glinting at his temple.

“every saturday.”

his tongue clicks against his teeth like he’s thinking, and then he says it — casual, quiet, but somehow not at all forgettable:

“see you then.”

you nod again, pulse skittering.

and when they’re gone, when the door swings shut behind all that smoke and static and adrenaline, you find yourself looking at the tip he left.

twenty bucks. on a ten-dollar order.

and a note scribbled on the napkin:

“in case i don’t get to tell you next time: you’ve got the prettiest smile i’ve ever seen.” — r”

you stare at it for a long moment, then fold it carefully and tuck it into your apron pocket.

⸻

you don’t know it yet, but that saturday? he’ll come in alone.

and you’ll sit at his booth during your break.

and he’ll ask if you want to grab coffee somewhere that isn’t where you work.

but for now, you just stand there — heart racing, hand pressed to a napkin — knowing full well this isn’t the end of anything.

it’s the start.

[kjiscrawlingbackformore]

Peace - Act III : Chapter six

Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Reader comes back to her hometown and transfers to Wiskayok High School after getting expelled from her previous high school. Follows Junior year into Senior year, all the way up to the crash. (Eventual NSFW mdni)

Warnings: None

The sun hadn’t fully burned off the morning fog, and already the parking lot of Wiskayok High School was buzzing, converse thumping on pavement, freshmen tripping over backpack straps, someone blasting Sublime out of a too-loud stereo.

But none of that mattered in the moment Lottie Matthews’ car rolled to a stop at a red light two blocks from school, Mary J. Blige spilling out of the windows like a declaration.

“All night long…”

Lottie was singing—no, belting off-key but fearlessly, hands drumming on the steering wheel, curls still damp from her shower, and pulled into a half-hearted pigtails. You sat in the passenger seat, laughing as you joined in, mouth full of melody, one sneaker propped up on the dashboard in total disregard for Lottie’s clean car policy.

It was the song. The kind you scream into the wind on the first day of senior year when everything feels too bright, too sharp, too terrifying to name. And then, mid-chorus, mid-laugh, you leaned over and kissed her.

It wasn’t long. Just a kiss. But it landed like a thunderclap in the center of Lottie’s chest.

Lottie grinned like she’d just won something. “This is gonna be so fucking hard to keep lowkey.”

You, smug, leaned back against the headrest. “Why’s that?”

Lottie rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “You can’t kiss me like that and then ask me why. You know why. That’s just mean.”

You snorted. “Okay, okay. I promise I’ll stop.”

“You better not,” Lottie muttered, turning up the volume as the light turned green. But beneath the teasing, the grin faltered just for a second. She wished they didn’t have to be lowkey. She wished they could walk into school with this song still playing, holding hands, not caring who saw. But you both knew better. The world didn’t make space for girls like them, not here, not yet.

So when she pulled into the back lot, you went quiet. You grabbed your bag. Lottie adjusted her purple cardigan like armor. They exchanged one last glance, charged, unspoken, and then parted ways.

You ducked into the side entrance near the east end. Lottie merged with the other athletes, laughing at something Allie said as if her morning hadn’t just rearranged her heartbeat. No one suspected a thing.

The senior hallway still smelled like waxed floors and stale air conditioning, the kind of institutional limbo that somehow never changed no matter how many years passed. Jackie and Shauna leaned against the lockers like they'd never left, fresh coffees in hand, sweaters tied around their waists like it was still early September and not already creeping toward the last weeks of summer heat.

Shauna was in the middle of a story, something chaotic and half-true about her neighbor’s lost cat, when she added, almost too casually, “Oh, and that’s when Y/N called me from North Carolina.”

Jackie blinked. “What?”

Shauna took a slow sip of her coffee, not looking at her. “Yeah. Just to talk. Her Grandparents were driving her up the wall.”

“She called you?” Jackie repeated, sharper this time. “From her grandparents’?”

Shauna shrugged. “Well, if you hadn’t been so busy sucking Jeff’s face off all summer, maybe you would’ve gotten a call too.”

Jackie barked out a laugh, too loud, almost genuine. But there was something clipped about it, something that made Shauna glance sideways. She couldn’t tell what kind of laugh it was. Was it mocking, surprised, or defensive? Regardless, it was the first day of senior year, it wasn’t worth analyzing. So she decided to let it go.

Jackie didn’t.

Something hardened behind her eyes, a decision forming mid-sip of her latte. Senior year was supposed to be hers. Her year. Clean slate, varsity captain, top of the food chain. She had done the family vacation. She had made up with Jeff. She was going to nationals. She had a plan.

And that also meant whatever had happened with you, whatever brief, reckless, raw moment existed between them, it didn’t fit. So it didn’t exist. It never happened.

She decided that the moment you came around the corner, backpack slung over one shoulder, keys still dangling from your belt loop, heading to your locker, the one, unfortunately, still right next to Shauna’s.

You paused when you saw them. Jackie didn’t.

“Hey!” Jackie said brightly, like you hadn’t gone three months without speaking. Like she hadn’t kissed you in a haze of smoke and music. Like she hadn’t treated you like you were invisible the very next day.

You blinked, thrown by the sudden normalcy. Your eyes darted to Shauna, who looked apologetic, maybe. Like she wanted to say something, but didn’t know if now was the right time. Or if there even was a right time.

“Hey,” you said back, slow and guarded, pulling open your locker like it might protect you.

Jackie just kept smiling, as if the tension wasn’t there. As if she couldn’t feel it buzzing under the fluorescent lights.

Shauna, bless her, picked up the dead conversation and breathed life back into it. “Y/N was just telling me about the food in North Carolina. Fried everything.”

“Sounds on brand,” Jackie offered, leaning on her locker like she didn’t notice you stiffen.

You nodded, “Yeah, my grandma is obsessed with her fried peanuts.”

Jackie's face scrunched into confusion, nose wiggling. You tried to ignore your heart fluttering at the cuteness. “Fried what?” She asks in a mix of pure confusion and pure disgust.

You chuckle despite yourself. “Dude, it’s so weird. It literally deep-fried peanuts. I hate it, but she SWEARS by it.” You explain, grabbing your books from your locker.

Jackie gives you a grossed-out look, and Shauna laughs at her reaction. “No offense, Smalls, you’re not making me want to take a trip to North Carolina anytime soon,” Jackie says with all sincerity.

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, trust neither do I. It was just a small visit for Max. I think unless you like Billy Graham and Racing, there's not much to do.”

Shauna scoffs, “Billy Graham and Racing is such a random combo?”

“Exactly.” You agree with a snicker.

“You have successfully convinced me. Never moving over there.” Jackie says with a nod, like it's all been decided.

She held your gaze for a moment, and it was tender. You almost felt the same magnetic pull that always comes with being around Jackie. Your breath hitches the longer you hold eye contact with her. The way her eyes are soft and so sure. So sure you were still her, Smalls.

You clear your throat. “Well, gotta get to uh Math. See ya later.” You say quickly, slamming your locker and rushing past them.

You didn’t argue. You didn’t ask why you and Jackie were suddenly pretending it was all fine. Like she didn’t say a word to you all summer. Like you didn’t dial her number three different times when you were visiting your grandparents. Because she was the only one who knew, who could truly understand and say something that’d really help. Like you didn’t stop yourself because you knew she wouldn’t answer.

No, we were pretending it’s fine. Yet the more you walked away. You felt a weird sense of gratefulness. Because in truth, you didn’t want to talk about it.

You weren’t ready to talk about it. Hell, even Lottie didn’t know about it. Maybe they would never talk about it. Whatever that night was, it shouldn’t have happened. And pretending was safer for everyone involved.

So we are pretending. And it was like a secret pact amongst the three of them, no one would say the truth out loud. You were fine with it. Besides…you did miss Jackie. In some fucked up way.

You could forget it happened…

The cafeteria buzzed with first-week energy, tray clatter, the hum of fluorescent lights, and the familiar scrape of sneakers against floors. The senior table had claimed its usual corner, the one by the windows where the sun poured in too bright.

Van had her boots kicked up on the bench, Tai was halfway through a carton of orange juice, and Lottie was picking the crust off her sandwich without much interest. You sat near the end, beside Shauna, quiet but present.

You were getting better at that at blending in without fading away. Tai leaned in suddenly, eyes flicking between you and Jackie her across the room. “So… you and Jackie making up now? Saw you two talking this morning.”

You didn’t look up from your tater tots. “Uh, yeah. We kinda have. She’s just… Jackie being Jackie, you know?”

It was neutral. Careful. True enough.

Lottie stilled beside her. Just a flicker of tension, the kind you’d only notice if you were watching closely.

“Figures,” Lottie muttered, a little too sharp, like something bitter stuck to the back of her throat. She peeled another bit of crust, dropped it on her tray. “Jackie Taylor is always full of surprises.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. The air between them dipped slightly one beat too long, one glance too brief. But Lottie caught herself. She didn’t have the luxury of looking jealous. So she pivoted, tone flipping on a dime, eyes lighting up like she’d been waiting for a better topic.

“Anyway, has anyone noticed Travis Martinez literally can’t stop staring at Natalie during practice recently?”

Van snorted into her iced tea. “Oh my god, yes. He almost walked into a goalpost yesterday.”

Tai leaned forward, grinning. “That was because Natalie told him she liked his stupid barbed wire tattoo.”

“She said it looked like something out of Buffy,” Van said, laughing. “And he thought it was a compliment.”

The table erupted in familiar, easy noise, everyone tossing jokes, leaning on elbows, slipping into the rhythm that had always existed between them. You smiled faintly. Lottie finally relaxed. You didn’t look at each other. But both felt the space between them settle again, uneasy but unspoken. The secret they shared folding back into the folds of a sunny afternoon.

Shauna was halfway through her fruit cup when she dropped her spoon and leaned dramatically across the table. “You guys, Coach is losing it. Like, full-on pacing the sidelines muttering about ‘legacy’ and ‘discipline’ like we’re in the damn military.”

Van nodded through a mouthful of fries, looking at you. “He made us run suicides for twenty minutes yesterday because Jackie sneezed during drills.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Oh shit. Really?”

“That’s not even an exaggeration,” Shauna added. “I thought Jackie was going to cry.”

You snorted. “Honestly, I’d pay money to see that.”

Lottie smirked but said nothing, her foot brushing yours under the table like it always did now. Her foot tapped gently once, a signal you understood but didn’t return. Not here. Not yet.

Van shifted her focus to you again. “We seriously miss you at practices. You should come by today. Bring the camera. Make us look heroic and sweaty.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I just don’t want to stand outside for hours watching you guys kick a ball around. I did that enough last year.”

Van scoffed. “That’s literally the whole point of your job.”

You shrugged, deadpan. “So? I can’t still hate that part of my job?”

Shauna leaned in with a grin. “Come on. The lighting at golden hour’s good today, right? Make us look like a Nike commercial.”

Even Lottie chimed in, voice smooth and teasing, “It’s not like you have anything better to do. You already said no to getting slurpees with Megan after school.”

You shot her a look dangerously close to one that said you’re pushing it, but Lottie only smiled wider, all false innocence and dimples. You immediately regretted telling her that earlier today. You only divulged that piece of information so you could stay with Lottie’s car to get burger king.

“Fine,” You sighed dramatically, tossing a chip into your mouth. “But only if I get to leave halfway through.”

Van smacked the table. “Hell yeah. See? I guilt-tripped her, and it worked.”

As you pulled out your planner (courtesy of Mr. Weaver) to write down the practice time, you added dryly, “Just don’t tell the lacrosse team about this. Ben Grimes has been sending me all types of bribes to get me to go to their practices. One more Hot Fries bag taped to my locker and I’m calling the cops.”

Lottie’s smile faltered for a millisecond-just a flicker, but she recovered quickly. “Gross,” she said lightly, sipping her drink. “Maybe tell him bribery isn’t flattering when it smells like gym socks and MSG.”

You snorted. “I’ll add that to my yearbook quote.”

Shauna reached for your fries. “As long as you bring the big lens. I need an action shot for my grandma.”

You nodded, a grin stretching on your lips. “Only if she frames it.”

The bell rang before Lottie could say anything else, and as the group gathered their trays, she lingered just a second behind. Watching you laugh with Shauna and Tai, easy and alive. She didn’t like that you and Jackie are buddies again. And she DEFINITELY doesn’t like Ben Grimes. Lottie didn’t like anyone liking you.

But that was a problem for later.

[gtops-thirdwheel]

~My heart belongs to you~

Warnings~cheating~ angst with comfort~ I love to cuss~ mdni~ piv~ fingering~ age gap if you squint~ porn with plot~ unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it!~ toxic relationship.

Summery~ji-Yong fell for a woman that’s not his fiancée, after finding her cheating on him countless times..but with his wedding in a month, his liver decides to end things..

Word count~4933

Ji-yong groans, using his arm to try and shield the morning sun from waking him up. It doesn’t work, his eyes slowly peeking open with a tired glare towards the window. He shuts his eyes again, rolling onto his side to face his lover. He’s not quite ready for it to be morning yet, knowing that means his two week trip in Paris is over..and that means that he has to go back to his shity fiancé. So he keeps his eyes closed, hoping that the world will evaporate around him, leaving him with his lover forever..

ji-yong doesn’t know what he was thinking proposing to his soon to be wife. Their relationship was struggling already, fights every night, along with the many men he caught her cheating on him with..and marriage never fixes things..so why..why did he have to go and propose to her?

He pulls the warm body in bed next to him closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of y/n’s neck, breathing in her scent. She smells like fucking heaven to ji-yong, her perfume smelling like daisys and honey.. he starts leaving soft, lazy kisses along her neck, smiling into her skin.

”mmm~ ji..stop it..” y/n mumbles lazily, swatting his head away from her neck lightly. He slowly pulls his head away, opening his eyes with a tired smile. “Jus wanna kiss you~” he mumbles, his eyes trailing up and down her barely covered body..the sheets of the bed leave nothing to the imagination, and are only half on her body. The sun that he was previously frustrated with, now baths his lover, giving her an angelic glow.

”shit..” ji-yong bites his lip gently, reaching over to his nightstand and snatching his phone so he can immortalize this moment forever. He snaps a few pictures, each one better than the last. “You look so fucking hot~” he groans, looking at the pictures in awe..this..this is why he loves his phone so much..

Y/n's eyes flutter open, taking in the sight of ji-yong on his phone yet again. She playfully rolls her eyes, a small amused smile on her face. “You're on your phone more than I’m on mine, old man~” she teases with a lazy smile. Ji-yong pears over his phone with a small playful pout. “I’m not old..” he huffs, his small smile giving away his true feelings.

Y/n yawns, sitting up with a groan. “I’m going to smoke..” y/n swings her legs off the bed, grabbing her cigarette pack from her bedside table before standing up and stretching her sore limbs. Ji-young’s eyes land right on her ass, groaning quietly at the sight of her bare body. “I need a smoke too…” he mumbles, grabbing his own pack from his bedside table and standing up, his eyes never leaving her body.

They both pull on robes, not wanting to get too dressed just so they can smoke then have to strip before getting back in bed. Ji-yong frowns at y/n's body being covered, silently cursing their shared addiction for being the reason y/ns covering up. They both walk to the balcony, ji-yong's arms wrapping around y/n's waist the moment they both stop moving. Y/n leans onto the railing, lighting her cigarette and staring at the eiffel tower.

y/n gets lost in thought, wondering why she’s with ji-yong when he’s getting married in a month..she knows she needs to end this..move on..she doesn’t know why she still waits for ji-yong to leave Nam-Gil, like he actually will.. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Ji-yong asks, examining her dazed expression. “Nothing..just sad the trip is coming to an end..”

ji-yong sighs, kissing the back of her neck. “Me too.” He mumbles against her neck. Y/n looks down at her burning cigarette..she loves ji-yong..and she knows…knows he loves her too…but she knows she can’t be his dirty little secret anymore..y/n finishes her cigarette, leaning against ji-yong's chest while she waits for him to finish his.

“One day…one day I want to come back here with my husband for my honeymoon..” y/n mumbles wistfully. ji-yong's heart aches in jealousy, he knows that won't be him..and it hurts more than he ever thought it would.

“That sounds nice..what..what would you guys do?” He doesn’t care that he’s torturing himself by asking..y/ns still his right now, and until she’s not he’s going to imagine himself as her future husband. Y/n smiles softly. “We will go to the Eiffel Tower..and i’ll drag him around sight seeing of course..” she giggles softly, the kind of giggle that melts ji-yong right to his core..

Ji-yong's eyes soften as he looks down at the top of y/n's head..”and we will try new foods every day, and go wine tasting~” ji-yong nods, a sad smile on his face. “Sounds amazing…” the silence between them is loud after, they both wish ji-Yong could be the man y/n comes back with. “Enough about that..let's go back inside and enjoy each other until we have to check out.” Y/n whispers, Ji-yong grunts, tightening his grip on y/n for a moment, before letting his arms fall to his sides.

y/n pulls away, walking back into the hotel room. Ji-yong stays on the balcony for a few minutes, processing everything they talked about.. he lets out a deep sigh, taking in the hotel's view one last time before joining y/n inside. A smirk forms on ji-yong face as he takes in y/n's bare body on the bed, her robe thrown on the floor haphazardly. “Ouuu~” he smirks, stripping off his own robe, and throwing it somewhere unknown.

y/n rolls her eyes softly, turning to face him with a playful look on her face. “I fear what’s going through that head of yours~” y/n giggles softly as Ji-yong plops down next to her on the bed. Ji-young’s arms immediately find y/n's waist, pulling her bare body flush against his. “Why would you fear my thoughts?~” he mumbles in her ear, gently kissing the lobe of it. A shiver runs down y/n's spine as ji-yong trails more kisses down her neck and shoulder, gently sucking small marks into her skin every now and then. “Ji…” y/n mumbles, her body betraying her better judgment, leaning into his touch.

ji-yong smirks, his hands running down her sides and stomach until they finally reach their destination between y/ns thighs. “Fuck jagi~” he groans into y/ns ear pressing one finger between her folds to play with her clit teasingly. “your so fucking wet~” y/n's thighs clench around ji-yong's hand, moaning softly at his touch. “F-fuck~ what’s with you and morning sex~” y/n lets out a breathless giggle. Ji-yong smirks, grinding his growing erection against her ass.

”what can i say, you look so fucking irresistible~” ji-yong growls in her ear. Y/n gasps as ji-yong slowly slides one of his fingers into her weeping cunt. “Mmm~” she moans quietly as he easily slides a second finger into her, slowly pumping them in and out teasingly. “Do you hear that jagi?” He grins against y/n's shoulder at the wet sounds coming from her cunt.

Y/n moans, squeezing her eyes shut and squirming in pleasure. “You sound so beautiful~ keep moaning for me, ok?~” he mumbles, kissing back up her neck. Ji-young’s thumb lightly grazes her clit, making her whole body jolt against him. “P-please ji..” a needy whimper falls from y/n’s lips. Ji-yong teasingly runs his thumb over her clit again.

”please? What~ what do you want jagi~” ji-yong smirks against her skin. Y/n would roll her eyes if she didn’t feel so good, instead she moans loudly, her hands finding ji-yong's free arm and gripping hard. “N-need you to touch my clit.. p-please ji~” y/n squeezes his arm, having to physically fight the urge to dig her nails into his skin, knowing she can’t leave any marks on him.

ji-yong's thumb finally makes contact with y/n's aching clit, rubbing fast circles to match the pace of his fingers. “Shit your clenching down on my fingers so hard~” ji-yong groans, kissing her jaw, leaving hickeys in his wake. Y/n moans, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. “S-shit ji~ g-gonna-“

y/n groans in disappointment as ji-yong pulls his hand away, leaving her empty and clenching around nothing. “Not yet jagi~ i want you to cum on my cock~” he whispers in her ear, gently biting her earlobe, tugging it gently as he pulls away. Y/n moans, bucking her hips against his, desperate for some kind of friction. ji-yong groans, gripping her hips, holding them down.

“I want you to ride me y/n~” he groans, laying on his back, pulling her with him so she’s straddling him. y/n smirks down at him, grinding her wet cunt on his stomach. “I’m starting to think this is your favorite position~” she teases. Ji-yong just smirks up at her, gripping her hips tighter. “Maybe it is~” y/n giggles, rolling her eyes.

y/n sits up on her knees, grabbing ji-yong's cock and stroking it a few times before positioning him at her slick entrance. Ji-yong groans, his cock twitching in interest as his eyes trail down her body and to where they are about to be connected. “What do you say ji~” y/n teases, a small smirk playing on her lips as she rubs his cock through her wet folds teasingly.

Ji-yong throws his head back with an annoyed groan. “Plea-“ y/n doesn’t let him finish, sinking down on him fully. “A-ah~” he moans, looking up at her in shock. “Fuck..you’re so hot” he groans, bucking his hips against hers. Y/n smirks down at him, trailing a finger down his chest and stomach, stopping where their connected. “Your so big ji~ fill me all the way up..” y/n moans, starting to roll her hips slowly. Ji-yong's grip on her hips tighten, bound to leave finger shaped bruises.

Ji-yong lets out a needy groan. “N-need you to move faster jagi~” he grunts, lazily thrusting up into her from below. Y/n starts bouncing faster, her back arching at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her body. She presses both her hands to his chest for balance as she throws her head back. Ji-yongs thrusts start to match her pace, sending jolts of pleasure through her body. “S-shit ji~” y/n moans, leaning down and connecting their lips in a sloppy, needy kiss.

y/n feels the knot start to form in her lower stomach again, so she pulls away from the kiss, speeding up her pace while she starts to rub her clit. She immediately throws her head back, moaning loudly. “I-I’m cumming ji~” ji-yong groans, the feeling of y/n clenching down on him so hard sends him over the edge. He continues to thrust up, riding out both of their highs for as long as he can.

y/ns body slumps down on him, coming down from her high. “You felt so good, jagi~” Ji-yong mumbles lazily, running his hand through her hair. Y/n smiles against his chest, leaving small kisses where her head is resting. They sit in silence for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of sex.

”We should get cleaned up.” Ji-yong gently rolls y/n off of him, laying her on the sheets next to him. “I'll go run us a bath, be right back” he kisses her softly, before jumping up from the bed and walking into the bathroom. Y/n sighs, watching the closed door for a few seconds before finally looking up at the ceiling and zoning out.

y/n loves ji-yong..and she’s sure he loves her..he treats her like he does, yet.. he always goes back to Nam-Gil…y/n has been thinking about ending this for a while..months even, but a part of her always hopes he will leave Nam-Gil for her. Y/n knows that ji-yong doesn’t love his bride to be..yet he still always chooses her over y/n..well..y/n is sick of being the side piece.Y/n know this is the last time her and ji-yong should see each other, she wants to get married and have kids..and so she can’t have that with ji-yong..

ji-yong walks back into the room with a wide grin. “Baths ready~” he says, stopping at the side of the bed. Y/n smiles softly at him. “Ok ji~” y/n is going to enjoy her bath with ji..then she will tell him.. he lifts her off the bed, causing her to squeal quietly before giggles start to pour from her lips “so strong~” she teases, placing her hand on his chest. Ji-yong smirks proudly at her, carrying her all the way to the edge of the bathtub. He sets her down, grabbing her arm to help support her on her wobbly legs. “Be careful when you get in..” ji-yong mumbles, gripping her arm tighter as she steps into the tub. “Thanks ji” she says as she lowers herself into the tub.

Ji-yong lets go of her arm and climbs in behind her, resting his head on her shoulder once he’s sat down. “You're so perfect~” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around y/n's waist and pulling her closer. He pants a soft kiss to the back of her neck, breathing in her scent. “I love you y/n~” he sighs softly, leaving kiss after kiss in the same spot as before.

y/n has to hold back tears, her voice a little choked up as she responds. “I love you too ji-yong..” y/n mumbles, closing her eyes and savoring the feeling of ji-yong's lips on her neck. They sit in silence for a while, ji-yong never stopping his affections on y/n's neck..y/n enjoys it while she can, knowing this is the last time she’s going to get to be like this with him.

The water is starting to get cold and y/n is dreading what’s about to come, but she knows this is what she needs to do, not just for herself, but for ji-yong too. “Ji-yong?” She whispers, she needs to tell him..it’s eating her alive and she can’t wait any longer.. “yeah jagi?” Y/n tenses slightly, and ji-yong feels it, frowning as he pulls away from her neck, concern filling his eyes.

“I-i…” y/n sighs sadly while ji-yong eyes her from behind, he doesn’t like where this is going.. “What's wrong?” He asks, his hands rubbing small comforting circles on her stomach. “I-i think this should be the last time we see each other..” ji-yong fully pulls away, looking at her with betrayal in his eyes. Y/n sighs, turning her body so she’s facing him, giving him the space he needs.

“Listen ji-yong..did you really think i was going to be your side chick forever..that’s not..that’s not what i want..” ji-yong shakes his head. “No..I didn’t think you would be my side chick forever..” ji-yong can’t bring himself to look at her..he thought he had more time with y/n..he needs more time..this can’t be the end..not yet..tears well up in ji-yong's eyes, he wishes he took more time to memorize y/n. The way she laughs, feels..looks…”i-i love you y/n..” ji-yong grabs her hands, bringing them up to his lips as he continues. “Why does it have to end now?”

y/n frowns, squeezing is hands. “You're getting married in a month, ji-yong…i need to move on from this..us..at least somewhat before your big day comes.” Ji-yong's heart aches, he hates the thought of y/n moving on from him..he knows it’s selfish..but he loves her..and the thought of her with someone else breaks his heart in ways he can’t describe. He nods his head, holding back the tears threatening to fall.

”when we separate at the airport..that’s when we’re officially over..ok?” Y/n asks, her eyes full of unshed tears. Ji-yong looks at her with sad eyes for a moment, but nods in agreement anyways.

Y/n rests her forehead against his. “I love you ji-yong…and i'll never forget you or the time i spent with you…the memories of you will haunt me until the day i die~” a tear slides down y/ns cheek. “I will always love you y/n..i'll always-..always think about you..everything i do thoughts of you will follow..” y/n smiles sadly, nudging him in the side. ‘How cheesy of you~” she teases, causing him to chuckle sadly. “It’s true though y/n…i will find a piece of you in everything i do..”

ji-yong pulls her closer, their body’s flush against the others. He wraps his arms back around her waist and crashes his lips against hers. They savor the feeling, holding each other as close as possible. “The water's cold ji..” y/n whispers as she pulls away from him completely. ji-yong’s hands linger on her hips as he gives her a sad look. “I’m not ready to let go yet..” he mumbles, looking at her with pleading eyes. “I know..but it's time..

y/n stands up, ji-yong's hands falling away from her sides. She frowns down at him before stepping out of the bath, wrapping a towel around her body. “Come on ji” ji-yong watches her for another second, before pulling the plug on the bath and stepping out, wrapping a towel around his own body. “this sucks” ji-yong grumbles before walking to the outfit he planned the night before.

y/n nods in agreement. ”Your right…this does suck..” y/n sighs pulling on a cute pair of gray sweats and a dark red crop top. Ji-yong eyes her outfit and smiles softly. “You look beautiful y/n..” he mumbles lovingly, sad eyes taking her in one last time. Y/n sighs. “Don’t do this ji..” she groans sadly, avoiding eye contact. He huffs and crosses his arms. “Do what?” he glares, making her laugh humorlessly. “Acting like were a couple..i-i just..I’m in fucking airport clothes..a-and…ji..i just..” y/n can’t finish her sentence, tears streaming down her face.

Ji-yong’s anger vanishes almost instantly, his eyes widening slightly. “N-no! Don’t cry..i get it ok? I wont act like we're a couple anymore..” he reaches over and gently wipes her tears. “Please stop crying..” she whispers, hating when she cries. He pulls her into a comforting hug, she melts into it much to ji-yong's relief. “We have to check out now..” y/n sighs, pulling away from ji-yong's embrace. She turns to the mirror, hiding any evidence of her crying.

they both quietly grab their bags, stopping at the door to turn and take one last look at the hotel room, which has now become a capsule of all their last memories together. “If you ever change your mind on marrying Nam-Gil you know where to find me…” y/n says before leaving the room, not giving ji-yong enough time to even process what she said.

y/n and ji-yong don’t really talk unless they need to the whole way back to Seoul..they don’t know what to day to each other..so they just stayed quiet, they didn’t want to accept that this is actually the end of them.

Nam-Gil meets ji-yong at the doors of the airport, jumping into his arms and kissing him deeply, even though they both know that she doesn’t give a shit about him… as he’s putting his bags in the trunk of his car, he turns and watches y/n get in a taxi, realizing that’s the very last time he’s going to see y/n..the love of his life..

*one month later*

it's the day of ji-yong's wedding..he’s all dressed up in a fashionable suit that matches his style perfectly, the only part of the wedding he got any say in. he feels nauseous standing in front of all the waiting guests, and not the good, excited but a little scared nauseous..no, this is the most dreadful, gut wrenching, heartbreak kind of nausea. Today he’s going to marry the wrong person..

Ji-yong scans Nam-Gil’s family..they're all happy for the two, not knowing that their relationship had crumbled beneath their feet months ago. That's why he proposed in the first place, to fix things after he caught Nam-Gil cheating the first time..but he knows that this marriage won't change her behavior..she’s just using him..and he’s just letting her.. y/ns words at the hotel have been ringing in his ear since they split. “If you ever change your mind about marrying Nam-Gil, you know where to find me” ji-yong sighs, tearing his gaze away from his soon to be wife’s family.

The music starts, and ji-yong's stomach drops..this is it..why is he doing this?.. he sees Nam-Gil, a fake joyful smile plastered across her face, along with fake tears of happiness falling down her cheeks. She’s really selling this, and if ji-yong didn’t know what real love felt like because of y/n..he would have probably fallen for it too.. he lets tears of his own fall, but not tears of happiness, they are tears of heartbreak, it's not like any of the guests will know otherwise..

Nam-Gil steps up in front of him, and he forces himself to look up at her..y/n in a wedding dress flashes through his mind, and his heart aches, the fact that he will never see her again eating away at his soul..

y/n stares up at the wedding venue, a small frown settling on her face. Tears well up in her eyes, he’s still doing it..marrying Nam-Gil..so why is y/n even here..ji-yong doesn’t want her or he would have fought for her..but y/n knows she needs the closure from doing this, no matter how much it may hurt at first.

She walks up the steps and through the venue doors, the sound of the officiant speaking filling her ears. She shouldn’t be doing this…but if he tells her to leave she will be free to take the job offer she got in Paris, and they’ll never see each other again..hopefully. Y/n peeks around the wall, watching the wedding secretly.

Y/n’s eyes land on ji-yong, he looks…defeated..yet still so devastatingly handsome.. she can see that he doesn’t want this, it's written all over his face..how can the guests not tell his tears aren’t from joy? Y/n’s frown deepens..she knows ji-yong feels trapped in this engagement, she doesn’t know why she waited for him, she should just turn around now, move to Paris and never look back..but he’s the only person holding her here and she doesn’t want any regrets when she leaves..so its time for her to finally close this door for good.

”Does anyone object to this union?!” The officiant calls out. Y/n takes a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for potential heartbreak. She steps out, her eyes landing on ji-yong. “I-i do!” The whole room freezes, before everyone silently turns to face y/n. Y/n shrinks under the gaze of so many people, focusing her eyes solely on ji-yong. His eyes light up when he sees her, looking at her like she hung the stars, and in that moment she was confident she would be walking out of the venue with ji-yong by her side.

y/n takes a few steps, keeping her eyes on ji-yong’s the whole time. Nam-Gil scoffs angrily. “Who even are you?” she shouts, glaring at y/n with a certain fire in her eyes. Y/n ignores her, the only person that matters to y/n right now is ji-yong, and she wants him to know it.

Ji-yong feels like all the air has been sucked from his lungs, he hasn’t seen y/n since the airport..and he’s missed her so damn much. Now..seeing her in front of him after all this time apart..y/n looks breathtaking. Nam-Gil glares at him angrily. “Do you know her ji-yong?!” she stomps her foot demandingly, looking like a small child who got told no when asking for a new toy.

Ji-yong doesn’t answer, he just starts slowly walking towards y/n. Nam-Gil gasps. “J-ji-yong! Tell your fan to leave!..now!” She shouts, once again stomping her foot like an angry child. Ji-yong continues to ignore her meeting y/n in the middle of the aisle.

Y/n grabs his hands and looks him dead in the eyes. “I’m so sorry I crashed your wedding..i-i just..i had to do this..” she sniffs, squeezing his hands. “If you tell me to leave..you’ll never see me again..i'll never call or text..i won't seek you out..and I’ll pretend nothing ever happened between us..” ji-yong's heart aches at the thought of never seeing y/n again..never hearing her voice or her laugh..he shakes his head, before looking her in the eyes again.

”i love you so much ji-yong..a-and i want to be with you for real…this is our last chance ji..if you send me away now..I’m going to move countries and never look back…” ji-yong's stomach drops, she‘ll leave? No! That can’t happen! The idea hurts..a lot..he smiles at her softly. “You know..it's funny, I didn’t have to find you when I changed my mind..you came to me~” he grabs her cheeks gently pulling her in for a deep loving kiss, people around them be damned.

ji-yong missed y/n's lips this last month, there’s no stopping him now..The crowd gasps, and Nam-Gil practically screams. She storms over, grabbing ji-yong by the arm before pulling him away from y/n. Nam-Gil slaps y/n..hard, the sound echoing off the walls. Y/n rubs her cheek, her cheek red and tingling in pain. Y/n admits she deserves it..she knew ji-yong was engaged the whole time she was with him and its a shitty thing for her to do.

ji-yong is appalled by the slap though, his eyes widening angrily. “What do you think you're doing?!” ji-yong shouts. Nam-Gil raises her hand to slap him too, but he catches her wrist gently, not wanting to hurt her. “I can't believe you would do this to me! I thought you fucking loved me!?” Nam-Gil shouts, trying to pull her wrist from ji-yong's grip so she can slap him.

ji-yong laughs angrily at her. “Maybe if you hadn’t cheated on me all those times I wouldn’t have fucking cheated myself!” She scoffs, finally getting her arm free, she doesn’t go to slap ji-yong though. “I thought this whole engagement was to fix our relationship!” Ji-yong scoffs, a small humorless chuckle falling from his lips. “To fix our relationship you need to actually stop cheating on me!” Ji-yong yells, gently putting his hand on y/n's back before starting to lead her out of the venue.

“Where the fuck are you going!?” Nam-Gil shouts after him. “The weddings off! we‘re over!” He yells back, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he leads y/n outside. They both let out a sigh of relief, the cool air feeling amazing on their flushed skin. “Come on, let's get you home~” ji-yong purrs in y/n's ear as he leads her to his car. He opens the door for her, smiling as he watches her sit down..he’s so happy he made this decision, he knows it’s the right one, he knows he will be way happier with y/n who he actually loves, and loves him back.

he hops in the driver's seat, his hand immediately finding y/n's thigh. She smiles, grabbing his hand in her own and resting her head on her seat, gazing at him lovingly. “Sorry it took so long jagi~” he frowns, pulling the back of y/n's hand to his lips. She smiles at him, savoring the feeling of his lips on her skin after weeks of nothing. “I would have waited centuries if it meant i get to be with you like this~”

he grins at her words, his heart fluttering in his chest. “Well your waiting is over” he mumbles, leaning over the center console to give her a quick kiss, before pulling out of the wedding venue parking lot. Ji-yong holds y/n's hand all the way to her apartment, not wanting to let go even for a single moment.

When they get to y/n's apartment building, ji-yong practically drags her inside, before pushing her up against her apartment door and smashing their lips together. Ji-yong pulls away and observes her cheek with a small frown. “Does it hurt?” He asks, bringing her palm to his lips, kissing down to her inner wrist. “Not anymore~” y/n whispers, before grabbing his face and pulling him into a deep kiss.

ji-yong will think about the fact that he still lives with that she witch later…right now he’s going to enjoy the love of his life’s body~

Hey guys! I’m starting a tag list so comment or message me if you want to be in it!! 💛💛

[angelkiko]

retired-poly!141 x dive-bar-singer!reader

warnings: none really! small mentions of self pleasing and cock : 3

CHAPTER ONE: stage

Johnny had gone out alone, only telling price who gave him a little nod and a "dont overdo it lad". He entered the usual shitty dive bar they frequented ever since retirement, it was the only one in town that didn't charge a fortune for beer. Post retirement, price moved them to a quant town, a very woodsy one at that where he managed to score them some old manor to live in. Johnny had no idea why it was that big, i mean 6 bedrooms? for what?

It had only been meer weeks after they retired, 6 weeks exactly. Yet, they still haven't gotten used to it, not used to the feeling of peace, not carrying the weight and dread of upcoming deployments, and not having to think about if all of them were going to come back form the next mission or not.

With a sigh he sat on a barstool, the bartender glancing at him to ask "the usual?" to which he nodded and was promptly slid a beer, which he slid a 5 dollar bill for.

He sighed, taking a swig of it to glance around. It was a lower end dive bar, the kind filled with bar fights and peeling leather booths. The barstools creaked, the lights were slightly dim, and the beer was cheap. Did anyone care? honestly not really.

However, there was a creaky wooden stage towards the back where bands usually preformed, bands comprised of college age kids trying to make some extra money while playing covers of weezer and green day. They weren't bad, but exactly what you'd expect from a place like this.

The stage was empty for a few moments, until he saw you. A pretty little thing, not older than early twenties step onto the stage. You stepped on with ease as if having done this a million times, which you have. Coming here once a week or so to collect tips, every night you had free from studying. However, johnny has never seen you until now, as they usually come on Thursdays.

You fixed the mic, greeting the bars crowd of middle aged men looking for a cheap place to drink. A soft smile let on your face, a smile too soft for this place, a smile that made johnny grip his beer tighter.

After a soft greeting, you began to sing over a backtrack. And johnny heard what he could only describe as the voice of an angel, he was enchanted instantly, like a moth to a flame. He sat there frozen, unable to look away and breathing slightly heavier than usual.

You sang for all of 30 minutes, and every now and again someone would come up to slip a 1 or a 5 into the jar by the stage. Something about the way you batted your eyelashes at the men who tipped made johnny shiver, he knew you were just doing it for a bigger tip but oh how it made his cock jump.

And almost too quick for his liking, you stepped off the stage and collected your tip money and disappeared. A slight ache of disappointment and longing entered his heart, price had always warned him he fell too quickly, but this? he had to have this one.

He would quickly walk up to the little sign up sheet by the stage, which is where he ended up finding out your name. It wasn't hard as there weren't a whole lot of names on there, mostly just band names. Y/n, a name that would haunt his dreams, nightmares, and the name he would moan as he imagined you. He noted that you were scheduled to preform tomorrow, and a grin slowly came on his face, he had to tell the team about what he just found

With quick steps he left the bar, throwing away the half full beer on the way out. he had to make sure he got the pretty little thing that had the audacity to waltz into his gaze. Because after all, what would someone like you be doing here? You were clearly too good for this place, and he wanted to just pick you up and wall you away all to himself, as he doesn't like sharing. He wanted you, and whatever johnny wants? his team makes sure he gets.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

A/N: srry if this is a tad short but i promise they'll interact in the next chapter i jst wanted to get the set up out of the way >_<

do lmk what yall think of my writing! i haven't written anything in a long time (ever since my fanfic writer era lol, so sorry if that shows), so do tell me if there's anything i can improve on.

small warning this series will be a little spicy and will probs have smut so if you like that keep reading ;)

you can imagine the song reader was singing but i like to pretend it was dealer by lana del rey ! (also apologies for any mistakes/grammar errors i wanted to get this out and was excited >_<)

with love, kiko. < 3

[candydollface]

where the silence lives (i can’t quit you)

while reading listen to:

oh my love — john lennon

lonesome town — ricky nelson

thoroughfare — ethel cain

lover, you should come over — jeff buckley

word count: 1,000+

warnings: internalized homophobia, emotional repression, drug use, drug dealing, emotionally destructive relationship dynamics, cheating (implied), rural homophobia (implied), non-explicit sexual content, bittersweet ending / unresolved grief, self-destructive behavior, emotionally abusive upbringing (implied for rafe)

a/n: inspired by the movie brokeback mountain! also i’m 🧁 anon from @starfxkrinc blog so blog reveal! also thank you @cameronsbabydoll for proofreading this bby!

the first time barry laid eyes on rafe cameron, he thought: fuck no.

he was a pretty boy with blood on his boots and hate in his mouth, hands always in motion like he didn’t know what stillness was.

too clean. too careless.

barry didn’t like him.

didn’t trust him.

but then they got sent up into the mountains together—two weeks alone, checking fencing and counting cattle for some old man barry owed a favor to.

rafe didn’t have a reason. he said he was bored. said he wanted out of figure eight for a while.

barry didn’t ask questions.

didn’t realize then that rafe wasn’t running away.

he was running toward something. he just didn’t know what yet.

they drove up in silence.

barry at the wheel, rafe hanging out the window like a dog.

they didn’t talk much the first few days—just worked. set up camp. drank in the evenings by the fire while the cicadas screamed.

and then it rained.

cold, hard, unrelenting. soaked their tent and their clothes and their bones.

rafe couldn’t stop shivering. too proud to say anything.

barry just opened his sleeping bag and looked away.

the first night they slept like that—back to back, heat pressed close, breath fogging—it wasn’t anything.

just survival.

but the second night, it was different.

rafe turned over.

touched barry’s chest.

didn’t say a word.

barry let him.

that first kiss was clumsy and fast, all teeth and panic and hunger.

like they were trying to undo years of being told not to feel.

rafe’s hands were shaking. barry’s jaw was clenched tight.

they didn’t talk about it the next morning.

barry cleaned his gun like he always did.

rafe smoked two cigarettes back to back, eyes fixed on the trees.

—

but it kept happening.

every night, a little closer. a little softer.

the touches turned tender.

kisses slowed down.

hands found places that made them both ache.

rafe would pull away after, sitting out by the fire with a far-off look in his eyes.

he’d throw rocks into the dark like he wanted to break the night open.

“this ain’t real,” he muttered once, almost to himself.

barry didn’t answer.

because it was.

and they both knew it.

—

when the job ended, they didn’t say goodbye.

just packed up and drove down the mountain in silence.

barry watched rafe out the corner of his eye the whole way home—jaw tight, fingers tapping against his thigh like a ticking clock.

he dropped him off outside the cameron estate. rafe didn’t look back.

barry sat in his truck long after he was gone, palms aching from how hard he’d gripped the wheel.

months passed.

they didn’t talk.

barry went back to the usual: late nights, cheap deals, silence.

but sometimes, late at night, he’d still wake up reaching for someone who wasn’t there.

someone he never should’ve touched in the first place.

and then one night, rafe showed up.

drunk. bruised. jacket half-off one shoulder like he’d been in a fight.

barry opened the door before he could knock.

they didn’t speak.

just moved.

rafe pushed him back against the wall and kissed him like he wanted to crawl inside his skin.

when they were tangled up in bed after—bare skin, heavy breath, hearts pounding out of rhythm—rafe said it again:

“this don’t mean nothin’.”

barry stared at the ceiling.

“then why do you keep coming back?”

rafe didn’t answer.

just curled into barry’s side like he always did, like it meant everything.

—

it became a pattern.

rafe would disappear for weeks.

months.

sometimes he’d show up with another man’s cologne still on him.

sometimes he’d come fresh from a bar fight, knuckles split and bleeding.

sometimes he’d cry into barry’s chest like a little boy.

and barry—barry never turned him away.

not once.

because rafe cameron was the only person who ever made him feel alive.

and barry knew he’d ruin himself before he ever let him go.

—

“we could leave,” rafe whispered once, drunk on cheap whiskey and moonlight.

they were out by the river. clothes half-off, skin flushed, laughter still stuck between their teeth.

barry had never seen him look younger.

“just go. start over. somewhere no one knows us.”

barry looked at him.

“you don’t mean that.”

“don’t i?”

barry kissed him, slow and full of grief.

“no, rafe. you don’t.”

because rafe loved the idea of freedom.

but he was raised on power. on pride. on legacy.

he’d never leave figure eight.

never leave the cameron name behind.

he’d choose the cage every time.

—

barry got older.

his hands started shaking more.

he stopped sleeping.

he heard rafe got engaged.

to a girl from charleston.

her father owned banks.

her smile looked plastic.

barry didn’t go to the wedding.

but he saw rafe three months later.

outside a gas station.

middle of nowhere.

they locked eyes.

neither spoke.

and then rafe just said: “i had to.”

and barry said: “i know.”

and then they walked away.

—

the last time rafe came to see him, it was raining.

not like the first time. softer. like something was being washed away.

he didn’t kiss barry.

just sat beside him on the porch, hands curled tight in his lap.

“i can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you,” he said.

voice low. shaky.

“even when i try.”

barry swallowed hard.

“you don’t try that hard.”

rafe looked up, eyes glassy.

“i wish i was braver.”

barry nodded.

“i wish you were too.”

—

and then rafe left.

for good.

—

years later, barry kept a box.

inside:

a photograph of the mountain.

a note rafe had once scribbled on the back of a bar receipt.

and an old, beat-up flannel shirt that still smelled like sweat and smoke.

he never opened it.

just kept it on the top shelf, collecting dust.

like a wound he didn’t want to touch.

but sometimes—on cold nights, when the world was too quiet—he’d pull it down and press it to his face.

and remember.

—

he never loved anyone else.

not the way he loved rafe cameron.

not with that kind of devastation.

not with that kind of ache.

—

“truth is,” barry whispered once, years later, to no one at all—just the wind, and the woods, and the long-empty bed beside him—

“i never could quit you.”

[wolkentage]

cw: mentioned death

synopsis / beginning / prev / next

[transcript]

Alexander: That’s it! I’m done with this walking disaster causing trouble nonstop. I’m calling FutureLabs first thing in the morning! Darren: Alex, calm down. I get you’re upset but - Alexander: Upset?! Oh, I promise you - I’m more than upset! Darren: So what? Your plan is to call FutureLabs - and then?! Ask them to take him back? Darren: Brilliant idea, really. I’m sure nothing will go wrong when we send a severely traumatised boy back to the place that openly admitted it wasn’t suited for his case… especially if Avery’s theory turns out to be true. Alexander: Theory? What theory? Avery: … I’m not sure if now is the right time to talk about this. Alexander: I asked: what theory?!

(...)

Alexander: No, that's impossible. We checked Saheen's records. They state that there were ten participants in his study. Darren: I saw their remains myself. It's true. Avery: What if there were more people involved than mentioned? Alexander: That doesn't sound like Saheen. You know he's a perfectionist who is very meticulous with his data. Avery: Killing people didn't sound like Saheen either. And look where we are now. Alexander: Avery, you're my best friend and I respect you a lot but we all know Saheen is a soft spot for you. I don't think - Avery: You think it's all a coincidence? Finn's symptoms? His diagnosis with Behring's? We know Saheen dabbled with the motherplant's genetic code! It all fits too well! Darren: Geez! Both of you! Stop it! Darren: It’s been a long night for all of us. Let’s have this conversation tomorrow, after everyone has gotten some rest. *towards Alexander* I can drop you off at the hospital if you want.

For years, I acted like a coward - turned a blind eye to the past just to protect myself. Tried never to get entangled in what he left behind. There’s this famous saying: "A person often meets their destiny on the road they took to avoid it." If only I had known that these past two weeks were merely the end of the beginning.

author's note: Finishing this act just how we began: with Avery contemplating life choices. 🙂 🙃 Also that saying he refers to is from Jean de La Fontaine. I slightly altered it (it's originally "A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.") but I'd like it to be gender-neutral in the canon of my story. 🫡

[slaymitchabernathy]

Nothing to Lose

| this drabble contains sexual content ;) |

Coriolanus has his eyes set on something.

Someone.

He noticed her immediately when he and his friends arrived at the club. She's hard to miss when she's dressed like that, wearing near to nothing but a corset with thigh-high stockings and a lacy bralette that leaves very little to the imagination.

There are other girls at the club as well, dressed the same way, doing the same things. This one is different though, he doesn't know why, but she is. He has to have her.

"How about another round of drinks?" He suggests to his friends who are already drunk. They came to celebrate the end of another grueling work week. It's not easy being a politician but clubs like this, exclusive places, make it a little bit easier. With the heightened security and well-trained staff, he feels perfectly safe here, surrounded by drunk men and scantily dressed women.

"Sure," Festus easily agrees, waving over a waitress. He's already had three drinks, but who's counting? "Another round for you gentlemen?" The waitress sweetly asks, batting her eyelashes. She's dressed in the shortest skirt Coriolanus has ever seen and is wearing bright eye makeup.

"Yes, please. Who's that over there?" Coriolanus inquires, nodding at the girl who's caught his eye. Her blonde hair is hard to miss and so is her easygoing smile. The waitress follows his gaze, "Oh, that's Soarynn. Would you like her to come over here?"

"That would be wonderful."

Coriolanus isn't above winning over hearts himself, but he also isn't above getting a little help now and then. If this waitress wants to help him out, he won't be the one to stop her.

She goes to fetch the drinks and her friend, leading Festus and Felix to give Coriolanus teasing looks. "Really? Sending the waitress to do your dirty work?"

He waves them off. "She offered."

They all watch the waitress approach Soarynn and whisper something in her ear. Soarynn's eyebrows raise and she looks over at them before she nods, saying something in return.

Their drinks come out before Soarynn does. Apparently, she had to go speak with their boss first. For what, Coriolanus has no idea until they both show up at their table. Coriolanus eyes the boss who happens to be the owner of the club up and down. He's dressed rather nicely for running an establishment such as this one, filled with burlesque dancers and waitresses.

Soarynn stands next to him, hands behind her back, head down.

"I heard Coriolanus Snow was asking for one of my girls," the owner explains, "and I just had to greet him myself." Coriolanus fakes a smile, not really caring for this man or his greeting. "Consider me welcomed."

"My name is Casca Highbottom, if there's ever anything I can do for you, Mr. Snow, please let me know." Highbottom holds his hand out leaving Coriolanus with nothing to do but shake it to avoid causing a scene. Better to stay on this man's good side since he frequents the club quite often.

"Thank you, Mr. Highbottom. I'll keep that in mind."

Highbottom smiles but it's a strange smile, a smile that Coriolanus doesn't trust one bit. Now is not the time to investigate though so he just smiles back and shakes his hand. "She's all yours," he says, giving Soarynn a push towards the table of men.

Soarynn to her credit, lays on the charm immediately, doing an excellent job given the circumstances. "I've never met a Snow before," she purrs, leaning against the table, "but I've heard a lot about you."

Highbottom finally fucking leaves and Coriolanus leans back in his seat, all too comfortable with the power he holds. "What've you heard about me, doll?"

Soarynn tilts her head, almost like a lost puppy. "That you always land on top." Festus barks out a laugh, almost choking on his drink. "Yeah, he's been saying that shit since the University." Coriolanus elblows him to prevent any more embarrassing stories. "It's true though, I've managed to stay on top despite all the odds."

He wonders if Soarynn can relate, or if she's used to being stuck at the bottom.

"Sounds like you're an important man," she replies, dragging her fingers along the edge of the table.

Coriolanus can see her much better in this light although it's still dark in the room. Her outfit is even more provocative up close. Her breasts nearly spill out of her bralette, and the corset looks like it's one size too tight on her. There are frills on the edges, almost making it look like the shortest dress in the world. As his eyes travel down her body, he comes to the realization that she's not wearing a skirt, only panties. Lace, of course.

"I am," he answers, "and my lap is terribly empty."

꧁ ꧂

Drinking always makes time go by faster, but when you have a pretty girl in your lap, it goes by even quicker. Coriolanus is intoxicated with Soarynn and her sweetness. She smells so good, like vanilla and something else. Her laugh is infectious and her smile is contagious.

She's more than comfortable sitting in his lap while he plays a game of cards with his friends and some other patrons, all of who keep eyeing her up and down with jealousy.

Coriolanus keeps a possessive hand on her waist at all times while her ass is pressed against his growing boner, an issue that she isn't helping him resolve by constantly wiggling her hips back and forth.

"I think you're bluffing," Felix calls from across the table which means he has shitty cards and won't be winning anything this round. Coriolanus bites back a grin, not taking the bait. Soarynn leans back to look at his cards but doesn't say anything either since she said she doesn't understand any of these card games.

"Are you winning?" She whispers, brushing the shell of his ear with her lips. Coriolanus shudders involuntarily, used to being the one in control. He is in control, but she's been playing these fucking mind games with him since the moment she sat down in his lap.

"I am," he gets out, tightening his grip on her waist. "Looks like you're my lucky charm." More giggles fill his ear and the buttons on his shirt magically become unbuttoned by her deft fingers. "Maybe after this game, we could go somewhere more private," Soarynn whispers, grinding down on his lap.

Coriolanus swears under his breath, not wanting to lose control in front of all of these men. Definitely not when he's about to win either.

"That can be arranged."

It only takes two more rounds for Coriolanus to show his winning hand and collect his winnings. He tucks a few bills into Soarynn's bralette and her stockings. "For bringing me luck," he explains. He excuses himself from the table and the prying eyes. Soarynn takes his large hand and pulls him towards the back of the club where he knows they have private rooms. Coriolanus follows her blindly, admiring how she looks from behind.

He's much taller than her even though she's wearing high heels. "I've never seen someone win so easily," she says to him over the noise. Coriolanus does his best to look nonchalant, it's really just luck at the end of the day, but he also knows how to play his cards right.

All you have to do is play like you have nothing to lose, in life, and in the club.

"It's like you said, angel, Snow lands on top."

More giggles spill from her lips and they disappear behind a curtain into a long hallway of doors leading to a private room. "The biggest one is at the end of the hallway." Coriolanus is more than pleased with the accommodations he's met with when they walk into the room.

There's a bed, sofa, table with chairs and a beverage cart with all his favorite drinks. "Whiskey or bourbon?" He lets go of her hand and sits down on the sofa, legs spread, guard down. "You can pick." Soarynn smiles, grabbing the bottle of whiskey.

"How long have you been working here?"

"A few months," she shrugs, pouring him a glass. "It pays well, and I like the crowd it brings in." Coriolanus doesn't know what that's supposed to mean. Is it good to be a part of that crowd?

"What type of crowd?"

She brings over his drink and makes herself comfortable on his right leg, sitting on his thigh. "Rich men," she answers without hesitation, "powerful men, attractive men. Men who like to take care of girls like me."

Coriolanus takes the glass from her and uses his other hand to grab her throat, not choking her, just holding her still. "And what type of girl are you, Soarynn?" Most girls would be shaking in fear from his actions, but Soarynn just keeps on smiling. "I'm a good girl, Mr. Snow."

Coriolanus rolls his eyes, not believing her for a second. They both know exactly what kind of girl she is. "Then be a good girl and take care of the problem you've created, doll."

His cock is straining in his pants, desperate for a release. Soarynn obeys his orders, gracefully sliding off his leg and onto the hardwood floor. Coriolanus watches her dainty little hands go up and down his thighs, teasing him further.

It's a most glorious sight to see a woman like Soarynn on her knees for him. With bills between her breasts and her big blue eyes looking up at him like she's some fallen angel. Her light blonde hair is almost like a halo.

She finally grabs his belt and unbuckles it with ease, almost like she's done this before. He decides not to think about that, about the other men she's slept with before him because there won't ever be anyone else after him.

"You're bigger than most," she murmurs, peeling back his boxers along with his pants. Coriolanus chuckles at that little comment. He's heard that before. His cock is red at the tip, already leaking with precum after being teased for so fucking long. "I like my blowjobs to be thorough," he informs her, adopting a stricter tone, "and watch your teeth."

Soarynn bares her pearly whites in a teasing smile that he doesn't find to be too funny. "Relax," she says, "I know what I'm doing."

"I'll be the judge of that, darling."

Soarynn takes a firm hold of his cock, stroking him up and down while bringing her lips to the tip. Her tongue darts out Coriolanus almost drops his whiskey when she starts working on his tip.

She's a fucking natural.

Soarynn takes him into her mouth after a good minute of teasing and she easily bobs her head up and down his long length. Coriolanus has been told by many women how big he is, how hard it is to take all of him at once. Soarynn is clearly not like other women. With one hand still free, Coriolanus grabs a fistful of her hair so he can set the pace.

Soarynn lets out what sounds like a whine of protest, but her mouth is full at the moment, so he ignores it. "That's right, just like that," he breathes, tilting his head back. If he knew he could get drinks and a blowjob at the club, he would've started coming here years ago.

Soarynn gags when he pushes her head all the way down, keeping it there for a good ten seconds. Part of him waits for her to fight him against it, to try and pull away but she takes it like the good girl she claims to be.

Not much else is needed once she starts using her other hand to stroke the remaining length of his cock. Coriolanus comes undone with a loud moan while spilling down Soarynn's throat, tightening his grip on her hair. She doesn't waste a single drop, swallowing it all like a proper whore. Coriolanus sits back on the sofa, utterly exhausted after that.

"Well," he clears his throat, "I suppose you did know what you were doing."

Soarynn grins up at him, her appearance is still impeccable for someone whose throat just got fucked. "I told you." He pats his thigh, inviting her to come sit again and she happily obliges. He makes sure to clean himself off first and pull his pants back on just in case they experience a rude interruption.

The door locks but he doubts it'll hold if someone really wants to get inside. The lock is more of a courtesy if anything.

Soarynn cozies right up to him, settling down on his lap while he drinks his whiskey. "Do you want some?" She shakes her head, making a face. "I don't like that stuff." More for him, then.

Coriolanus lazily draws shapes on her bare skin, on her arms, her legs, her chest, leaving a small trail of goosebumps wherever he goes. "How much to fuck you?"

Soarynn sits up a little straight though she doesn't appear to be offended. More so excited at the prospect of making some money. "Mr. Highbottom is in charge of setting our rates."

Ah, so it all goes back to Highbottom. Coriolanus is willing to bet that he takes a cut of their earnings and pay as well.

"So, I pay you after I fuck you?"

She nods, "Mhm."

Perfect.

"Take this off," he pulls at the strap of her bralette, "and allow me to return the favor."

Soarynn is fast at getting naked. She easily unclips her bralette, bearing her chest to him. He admires her breasts for a moment, noting the rosy shade of her nipples and the perkiness of the breasts themselves. She's perfect. Coriolanus pinches one of her nipples between her fingers, watching as she gasps and arches her back.

"Sensitive, hmm? This'll be fun."

In under a minute, Coriolanus has Soarynn under him. She's already out of breath but they're just getting started. "How old are you?" He asks while peeling her panties down her legs. Soarynn lifts her hips to help him out. "Twenty-one."

He turns thirty in two months, but who's counting? Age is really just a number at the end of the day. "How many men have you slept with?"

"Eight."

Heaven help him.

"You won't ever sleep with ten," he tells her firmly, spreading her legs apart so he can feast on the sight of her cunt. Sure enough, it's perfect just like the rest of her. Wet, pink, and oh-so tight. Coriolanus almost starts to drool at the sight of it.

He gently pulls apart her folds, groaning when he truly sees how wet she's gotten from the teasing and the blowjob. "Your cunt is perfect."

"So I've been told."

He gently slaps her ass with his other hand, she can be a little bit of a brat and Coriolanus Snow doesn't like a smart ass.

Coriolanus doesn't waste another second diving into her wetness, tasting her for himself. She's as sweet as he imagined and sounds even sweeter with her high-pitched moans and whines. "Oh, oh, please," she whines, arching her back. Coriolanus keeps her pinned down to the sofa so he can enjoy her cunt. He pays special attention to her clit, sucking and pulling on it to drive her crazy.

He's had his fair share of women, but it's led him to be quite the confident lover in the bedroom.

"Fuck, oh fuck, right there, right there." He peers up to find Soarynn's face twisted in ecstasy. Her eyes are shut but her lips do all the talking, spouting absolute nonsense while overwhelmed with pleasure. Coriolanus slides a finger into her cunt and she's done for. Her cunt feels so tight, so perfect for him. Coriolanus starts pumping in and out of her cunt, keeping a steady pace while he continues to eat her out.

Her walls start to tighten and her entire body starts to shake. She's going to fall apart any minute now. "Come on," he says, pumping fasted, determined to see her come apart, "give it to me, darling."

Soarynn gives out a pitiful cry and the wire inside of her snaps. It's a sight to see, watching her orgasm wash over her and take control of her entire body. Her mouth falls open, her fingers twitch and her back arches off the sofa like a puppet on strings.

Coriolanus continues lapping at her cunt while she cums, wanting to give her an experience to remember. He only pulls away once she's fully finished and is panting. "That...that was good," she whispers, lying limply under him. Coriolanus smiles, admiring how she looks in her blissed-out state. They really could've done this on the bed now that he thinks about it.

With glossed-over eyes, Soarynn stares up at him, almost in an adoring way. "Most people don't care if I finish."

His eyes rove over her half-naked body, only covered by the corset that looks very painful and her stockings. "I'm not most people," he reminds her. Soarynn rolls her eyes and sits up on her elbows, bumping into his nose with her forehead. "I've gathered that. Are you going to fuck me, because that costs a lot more than eating me out?"

Coriolanus is painfully reminded of how this at the end of the day, is just a sexual transaction. She needs to get paid and he honestly needs to get the fuck out of here. As if he needs to be reminded, there's a loud knock at the door. "Coriolanus? We're leaving so hurry up in there."

Festus. Always there when you don't need him.

Soarynn sighs, carding a hand through her hair, "That answers my question. He only accepts cash by the way." Coriolanus narrows his eyes. Only accepting cash is like sounding the alarm for shady business. Which this is, but he's still not so sure about this Highbottom character.

"How is he? As a boss?"

The question catches Soarynn off guard but that's what he wants. "Fine." Not fine. Coriolanus easily slides two fingers into her cunt, curling them so deep inside of her and Soarynn's eyes damn near roll to the back of her head. "Let me ask again," he says huskily, leaning down to talk directly in her ear, "how does he treat you?"

His fingers begin to work their magic, going in and out of her cunt at a punishing pace. Soarynn cries out, maybe in pain, maybe in pleasure. Sometimes, it's hard to tell the difference. Her hand latches onto his wrist but he's not letting up.

"He, he...he's," she chokes out, her head lolling back from the overstimulation, "he's mean, and he, he, he takes cuts from our pay."

That fucking asshole.

Coriolanus might as well finish what he started. He quickens the pace of his fingers and presses his lips to hers to quiet her down. Soarynn responds eagerly to the kiss, rolling her hips to meet his thrusts. It doesn't take long since she's already got one orgasm under her belt for her to reach another one. Soarynn moans into the kiss allowing him to bite her bottom lip.

Coriolanus tastes blood when she cums.

꧁ ꧂

"How much do I owe you?"

Highbottom leans against the wall of his office, eyeing Coriolanus up and down as if he's not a paying customer. "For you, my friend, five hundred." Coriolanus thumbs through his wallet and lets out a low whistle. "Five hundred, huh? That's a steep price for some cunt, isn't it?" Soarynn blushes standing next to him, lovebites littered all over her neck from their last few minutes together.

"Well, we offer the best of the best here."

"I see. Here's the five hundred for you, and for you," he looks down at Soarynn, "a tip for your services." Coriolanus hands her two hundred dollars, easily the biggest tip she's gotten in her whole life and he's not talking about his cock. Soarynn's eyes widen along with Highbottoms but he looks much more greedier. "Oh," she says softly, brushing her hair out of her face, "oh, that's very nice of you."

"Yes, very nice. You know, we have some rules here," Highbottom interjects, "Soarynn knows the rules, don't you sweetheart?" Her excitement is gone in a second. "Half of our tips go to the house," she says, quieter than before and less excited. She's about to start counting the bills when Coriolanus stops her. "It's not a tip."

Now everyone's confused.

"Excuse me?"

Coriolanus flashes Highbottom a more genuine smile this time now that he's beaten him at his own game. "It's not a tip, it's just my way of thanking her. I always thank the women who service me."

"Is that a fact?"

"Mhm. Now, you go run along, I'm sure we'll see each other very soon, doll," Coriolanus tells Soarynn, giving her ass a pat. Soarynn does as she's told, walking down the hallway, only looking back at him once before she goes behind the curtain back into the main room.

"Did she say something when you two were alone? Because if she did, then I can deal with he-"

"She didn't say anything," he cuts Highbottom off this time. "In fact, I'd like to see her again this Friday."

There's a bit of a standoff between the men, both rich from different sources of income, both profiting off of young girls and their sexuality. "That can be arranged...for a price," Highbottom muses, flipping through his bills, "she's highly coveted as you can imagine."

Those words strike a nerve and Coriolanus clenches his jaw. Soarynn is a proper whore but he'd like to keep things a little more private between them, even if it's for a steep price. "I want her all to myself, even when I'm not here." Highbottom laughs, he fucking laughs at Coriolanus as if he didn't just try to swindle one of his workers in front of him.

"You mean she can't fuck anyone but you? Mr. Snow, please, I know that you know how ridiculous you sound right now. Soarynn has a job to do. Are you saying that you don't want her to get paid?"

"No, I just don't want her fucking anything that walks into this club. You'll both get paid, don't worry about that."

"I'm not worried."

"Then it shouldn't be a problem."

"Mr. Snow, I have some very powerful friends who have taken a liking to Soarynn. What am I to tell them when she's suddenly off limits to them?"

"Tell them she belongs to Coriolanus Snow."

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus is beginning to realize that he's made a grave mistake, and it all started three weeks ago when he met a burlesque dancer named Soarynn who he couldn't get enough of.

At first, he was just looking out for himself. Sharing is not something he's familiar with, so he struck a deal with Casca Highbottom, the owner of the club she danced at. Soarynn could dance, she could wait on tables, she could flirt. But under no circumstances could she be fucked. That meant no kissing, fingering, or fucking.

Coriolanus thought Highbottom might have a stroke when he listed out all of his rules. But he wasn't about to risk Soarynn's tight little cunt or her pretty little head so he took the necessary precautions.

Plus, the last thing he needed was for her to get some nasty disease and then give it to him.

What started out as pure sex has evolved into something different, something...personal. Which is why he's climbing the rickety stairs of her apartment building right now to pick her up for dinner. He didn't dare call it a date in fear of her getting the wrong message. She's sweet, but she's nowhere near his league. Feelings be damned.

This apartment building of hers looks like a thousand health code violations sealed in cement but he's almost to the seventh floor. He's damn near gasping for air by the time he reaches the top of the stairs. The stairwell isn't air conditioned either and, of course, there's no elevator.

Coriolanus had hesitated to leave the safety of his car when it pulled up to the curb of the building. Soarynn lives in the outer circles of the Capitol whereas he lives in the City Centre, both the safest and richest place to live.

He opens the door that leads to the narrow, dimly lit hallway and begins looking for her apartment number. She had insisted on meeting him at the resturaunt and now he knows why.

Her door is the last one, naturally, but Coriolanus has already come this far. He knocks twice, listening to her run around in there before the door opens. Soarynn looks different when she's fully clothed.

Her hair is pulled back and her makeup isn't as intense. Like she lives two seperate lives. "You came," she says. Coriolanus takes a quick look down the hall he just trekked down, "It was quite the long journey, I must admit."

Soarynn smiles, a real, genuine smile. "Well, I'm almost ready. You can just wait out here in the hall." Coriolanus raises an eyebrow, it doesn't feel very safe out here in the hall. "Or I could come in, since you know, I've been paying your rent for the past month."

A blush crawls across her cheeks. Since she only sees him now at the club, Soarynn is fully dependent on Coriolanus to pay for her needs and that's just how he likes it. He tips her generously, more than enough to cover rent for this shabby little shack she calls a home.

"Alright," she mumbles, stepping aside. Coriolanus bravely enters her apartment, stunned at how...small it is. He figured with how much her rent costs, she'd live somehwere bigger. But everything is in one room, the bedroom, living room and kitchen all occupy the same space.

"It's a bit messy," she says, picking up some clothes off the floor, "I meant to clean it the other night but I got home so late..." Her voice gets tuned out as he looks around her space. Drawings are tacked to the walls, clothes and shoes are scattered across the floor, bills are stacked on her small table.

Soarynn is poor.

He eyes the dress she's wearing, small, short and tight. Not at all appropriate for where he's taking her tonight. "Is that what you're wearing?" Soarynn throws some of the clothes onto her small bed pushed into the corner, clearly flustered with the unexpected company. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

The dress ties in the back, but leaves little to the imagination. "I wasn't aware that you'd be wearing some like that," is all he says. Soarynn shrugs, obviously not too worried about her outfit for tonight. "It's one of my more modest pieces if I'm being honest."

That doesn't make him feel any better.

Coriolanus takes another look at the apartment, at the cracked walls, the leaking ceiling, the dirty window and the creaking floorboards. He figured with how much he paid her, she'd be living somehwere nicer. "You have a lot of unpaid bills," he notes. There are several overdue notices sitting on her table, stamped in bright red ink so she can't miss them.

"They're not due until the end of the month."

"Soarynn," he starts with a sigh but she's not having any of it. "It's fine, trust me, it's fine. I know what I'm doing and contrary to your own beliefs, I cna take care of myself."

"I beg to differ. Your apartment is falling apart, you have bills due, am I not paying you enough? Because if that's the case then I ca-"

"I'm fine," Soarynn insists, growing more and more frustrated. "You pay me more than enough, I promise."

Coriolanus just can't find it in him to believe her, not when this is where she lives. "Then why don't you move? Find a better place?"

"I happen to like where I live, thank you very much. And it's close to the club. I've never lived anywhere else but on the edge of the city." What a terrible way to live. "Surely, you could find something a bit bigger," he insists, already picturing his own penthouse as a perfect example.

Coriolanus resides on the Corso with the richest of Panem.

She's never been to his apartment but he's told her about it before, how grand it is, how it's been in his family for generations. Her apartment could fit into his apartment twenty times.

"You are paying your rent, right?" Some people will take and take and take just to spend your money on things they don't need. Like clothes or shoes but Soarynn clearly has plenty of both.

Soarynn huffs, putting her hands on her hips. He finds it very hard to take her seriously, not because of her job, but because of her short stature and bratty little attitude. "Yes, I am paying my rent. It's not really any of your business how I choose to spend my money, is it?"

Coriolanus takes two steps towards her, closing the distance between them quickly. He reaches out and grabs her jaw, not too harshly, but more than enough to get her attention. "Need I remind you that it's my money, darling? So it is my business, and I have no issue taking my money elsewhere, so tell me Soarynn, where is all of this money going?"

She struggles against his hold but it's pointless. Coriolanus is much stronger than her. He tries to imagine where she could be spending it. Perhaps she's been setting money aside to get away from all of this, but that would mean getting away from him and he can't have that.

"I...I help out some of the girls at the club, okay?"

Out of all the things she could've answered with, he wasn't exepcting for her to go with that. "The girls at the club?" He repeats, confused on what she means. All the girls make money at the club, whether they're dancers or waitresses.

"They don't get paid as much as I do, and they don't have someone like you paying them. Highbottom always takes a cut of their pay, so I've been helping some of them out here and there."

It seems that he's underestimated her. Coriolanus expected Soarynn to spend his money on bags and makeup but instead, she's been helping out her friends at work. Sweet, but stupid.

"Their problems are not your problems, Soarynn," he sternly reminds her. Soarynn bats his hand away, "I know. But you never said I couldn't help them, so I am. It's the least I could do, now, if you'll excuse me, I need to finish getting ready."

"You're not ready yet?"

Soarynn brushes past him, completely ignoring his question. They have reservations at eight.

"Where are we eating?"

Coriolanus checks his watch, they have about half an hour before they need to be there. "The Grand Oak," he answers, walking over to the dirty window, "it's in the City Centre."

"Never been," she calls from what must be the bathroom.

"To The Grand Oak?"

"No, to the City Centre."

His eyes widen at her causal comment. Never been to the City Centre?

"In all your years, you've never been to the City Centre?" It's certainly a walk from here since she doesnt have a car, but this is practically unheard of where he comes from. "My father said that if I couldn't afford to eat there, then I probably couldn't afford to walk around there, either. Besides, I have all I need right here."

Soarynn lives on the outskirts of the Capitol, right by the reservoir which sounds nice but it's really not. It's dirty where she lives, shady and known for it's high crime rates. No wonder the club she works at is a five minute walk from here. Coriolanus only goes there because it's guranteed that no one he knows will recognize him there.

"You're in a surprise then," he says, looking at one of the drawings she has tacked to the wall. It's more of a sketch the closer he looks at it. Like a fashion sketch for a dress. He never knew Soarynn could draw, or that she even liked to draw.

"Okay, I'm ready."

He turns around to find that she's thrown on some lipstick and pulled her hair back frm her face. She looks pretty, poor, but pretty. The shoes she's wearing are the same shoes she wears to the club. "You don't have any other shoes?" Soarynn gives him a knowing look. "No."

They'll have to go shopping one of these days, then.

"Fine. Let's go or we're going to be late."

Coriolanus is more than happy to get the hell out of here, especially when a drop of water falls onto his head from the ceiling. With one hand on her lower back, he guides them out of the apartment and down the hallway. "How was work?"

Soarynn always asks him how work was even though they both know she doesn't care. It's the thought that counts. "Fine."

Going down the stairs is much easier than going up and they're outside in no time. "Wow, you have your own car," she gasps, stopping at the curb. He looks down and takes her hand, pulling her along. "I have my own driver too." His driver doesn't bat an eye when a hardly dressed girl gets into the car with Coriolanus.

"The Grand Oak," he says to the driver, slamming the door shut.

Soarynn presses herself against him despite the spacious backseat, baring her smooth legs. "I missed you today." She's always been good at changing the subject, causing him to go from angry and stressed to happy and laughing within seconds. Coriolanus bites back a grin, knowing that she's used that line on plenty of men.

"Did you now?"

"Mhm," she looks out the tinted windows, "I only went to work for a few hours. Highbottom let me take the entire night off. I bet you had something to do with that."

Coriolanus wraps an arm around her, resting his hand on her hip. "I might have stopped by his office on my way out last week." Coriolanus wasn't an idiot, he knew that Highbottom was keeping a close eye on Soarynn now that Coriolanus was exclusively paying for her. So for her to take the night off, Coriolanus slipped the man a few more bills.

"How sweet," she purrs, placing a kiss on his cheek.

Coriolanus returns the gesture with a kiss on the lips, causing both of them to get a little carried away. The car ride goes by fast while he's busy sliding a hand under her dress, teasing her. "Are we going anywhere else tonight?" She asks between kisses, pulling at his necktie. Coriolanus briefly stopped by his apartment to freshen up after work, putting on some fresh cologne and fixing a few of his curls.

Soarynn seems to be set on ruining his hard work.

"I don't know," he teases, "is there somewhere else you need to be?"

"Only in your arms."

There she goes, saying things like that when they both know this won't go any further than heated sex and kisses. It's fun to pretend though, acting like they have nothing to lose.

꧁ ꧂

"And for the lady?"

Soarynn scans over the menu for the tenth time, still unsure on what she wants to eat. "She'll have the salmon," Coriolanus answers for her. Soarynn doesn't protest and simply hands the menu back to the waiter. "Thanks."

Once the waiter leaves, she leans over the table. "I've never seen a menu that big before," she whispers. Coriolanus hums, he's more than used to fine dining, but Soarynn isn't. Her eyes were as big as saucers when they walked inside, immediately drawing attention to her exposed skin and interesting looking shoes.

Coriolanus should've rented out a private room for tonight. Lots of people have bee glancing over at them but Soarynn has remained oblivious to their judgemental stares, simply in awe of the opulence he lives in so casually.

"More wine?" She shakes her head, watching as he finishes off his second glass. "No thanks, I had something to drink at the club." All Highbottom lets the girls drink is posca, the cheapest alcohol there is but Soarynn is a lightweight.

"Isn't that Festus?"

Coriolanus can hear him before he sees him. "Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in. Coriolanus Snow and..."

"Soarynn," she finishes for him, flashing Festus a smile, "nice to see you somewhere else."

Coriolanus takes in Festus and more importantly, the woman standing next to him. Persephone Price, a woman he's been after for years now. They just started seeing each other but Persephone has no clue that Festus frequents nightclubs to play cards and get lap dances.

"Where else do you see each other?" Persephone asks, nervously looking between all three of them. Coriolanus clears his throat, "Soarynn is a...she's an old maid of mine. She works somewhere else now but Festus always treated her like a barmaid whenever he came over." Festus lets out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck while Soarynn shoots Coriolanus a murderous glare which he wisely ignores.

"Oh, well, it's nice to meet you," Persephone says. Soarynn offers a polite smile but she doesn't mean it. "You too." Festus is quick to steer Persephone away from them. "We should be going. I'll see you at work, Coriolanus."

"Sure, Festus."

The moment they're out of earshot, Soarynn gives him an earfull of calling her a maid. "Are you serious?" She seethes, shooting daggers at him, "A maid?"

"Would you rather me have told her the truth? That I pay you to fuck you because we can call them back over here," he offers, not appreciating her tone. "You're a dancer, darling, and Persephone doesn't need to know about Festus and his whereabouts."

"Why not?"

How can he put this nicely?

"The club you work at has a certain...reputation," he explains slowly and quietly so no one overhears them, "and men like us can't be seen visiting such places. Especially not by women we're courting."

Soarynn sits up straight in her chair. "Are you seeing other women?"

Coriolanus blinks once, twice. How did he get here?

"No, no, I'm not seeing other women because frankly, I don't have time to see other women," he grits out, "you are more than enough for my plate."

"Your plate? So what am I? A meal?"

"I always tip after I eat you out, don't I?"

If looks could kill, he'd be dead right now.

"I'm going home," she announces, standing up so fast that she almost knocks her chair over. Coriolanus pinches the bridge of his nose, a headache is already forming, he can feel it coming. "Soarynn, sit down right now, you're making a scene."

"You are making me feel like some cheap whore. Have a nice night," she snaps, walking away before he can say anything else. Coriolanus watches her go and counts to ten before flagging down the waiter. He makes up some bullshit lie about a family emergency and makes sure to tip a little extra, no one needs to hear about some young woman walking out on Coriolanus Snow at dinner.

Soarynn doesn't get far before his car pulls up on her walking down the street, absolutely fuming. "Soarynn," he calls out the window, "Soarynn, come back, stop walking away from me."

"Stop writing me off as some girl you just sleep with!"

Coriolanus winces at her loud tone. Must she be so loud?

They're about two blocks away from the Corso, so maybe he can fix this. "Darling," he tries, softer this time, kinder. "Darling, come here, please. Let me take you home and make it up to you." Soarynn comes to a stop, wrapping her arms around herself. She looks so out of place here in the City Centre. Still, she's his for now. His responsibility, at least.

"I'm tired," she says, taking a step towards the black sleek car, "I think it'd be best if I just went home." Coriolanus shakes his head, not ready to let this night go. "Come home with me tonight," he insists, reaching out a hand, "you still need to have dinner."

Soarynn contemplates his offer. It's a good offer, a great offer.

She has two choices: go home to her rundown apartment, or go home with him.

Her decison is made rather quickly, but it always is when you have nothing to lose.

꧁ ꧂

"You looked so cute!" Soarynn giggles, evading his strong hands when he tries to pull her back into bed. They just spent the past four hours fucking and now, Soarynn is going through his personal photos. Framed photographs can be found throughout his penthouse, left behind by his mother who passed away decades ago. He's never seen a reason to put them away, not when most of them are of his family.

The last he has of them.

"Come back to bed," he sighs, lazily reaching out for her. Soarynn is wearing the shirt he wore to dinner, it's quite big on her but she makes it work. Her hair is tangled and her makeup is smudged. She looks beautiful, even he can admit that.

"Why don't you have any pets? Even in your baby photos, there's no pets." Coriolanus chuckles, shaking his head at the very notion of brining an animal into his home.

Soarynn is already more than enough.

"Pets are a lot of work," he explains tiredly, rubbing a hand over his face. They still need to shower and he desperately needs to shave his face. Coriolanus prefers a clean shaven face at the moment so he needs to stay on top of it.

"I've always wanted a kitten," she says, climbing back in bed with him. Coriolanus closes his eyes, imagining having to take care of such a demanding animal. "Then why haven't you gotten one?" Soarynn could definitely afford one with the money he pays her whenever he visits the club.

"Oh, I don't know. It just wouldn't be fair to raise a kitten in such a small apartment and besides, money comes and goes," she says the last part quietly, causing him to open his eyes. That's his money she's talking about and his money isn't going anywhere.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She cards a hand through her hair. "I mean, how long are we gonna do this? One day you'll get bored or find some other woman, someone like the lady we saw with Festus and then I'll just be the girl you used to pay for sex."

Unfortunately, she's right. Coriolanus could never marry Soarynn, it's sweet idea, but incredibly unattainable. She comes from lower class, she's a proper whore. His reputation would never recover if they were to get married.

"Let's not think about the future," he wisely advises, "just enjoy the present." Soarynn frowns but doesn't argue, simpy cuddles up to him instead. Coriolanus isn't really one for being all soft after sex, but he supposes that he can make the rare exception for Soarynn.

She is right, after all. One day, he'll never see her again. He can't afford to reputation wise, and she could never keep up with him when it comes to finances.

As he drifts to sleep, he realizes that maybe that was a lie he told himself when this all started.

They both have something to lose.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

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[istillhaveyourheart]

Thinking about baby daddy!Miguel that started to invite you over to do activities more often during his weeks with Gabriella, saying it would be good to show your daughter that you both still had a good relationship with each other. Which struck you as odd since you two genuinely have always gotten along anyways but you decided to ignore it and brush it off.

Baby Daddy!Miguel who invites you over to his place on a hot summer day, saying that he’s having a pool party with a bunch of your friends. Insisting you bring the guy you’ve been talking to so he can finally meet him and totally doesn’t want him there to prove to him that he’s not worth your time.

Baby Daddy! Miguel who can’t keep his eyes off you when you come out to the backyard after having changed into his favorite a bikini, asking Mj to help you apply sunscreen on your back. Wishing it was his hands rubbing it into your skin instead.

Baby Daddy!Miguel who rolled his eyes when your not-boyfriend-but-more-then-a-talking-stage guy finally arrived over three hours late with the wrong type of beer, seeing him come in with a pack of Bud Light when Miguel was strictly a Modelo man. “Accidentally” squeezing his hand a bit too tight when he shakes it.

Baby Daddy!Miguel who made sure to keep telling stories about you two from your time together, not sparing any details as he and all the guys/dads gathered around the grill while Miguel turned over the carne asada y Pollo asado he was grilling. Not even caring about the looks your new boy toy would throw at him. His best friend Peter and his brother Gabriel both shooting each other a knowing look.

Baby Daddy!Miguel who took the aux from Peter and switched the music over to his spanish playlist, totally not on purpose starting off with the song Que Malo from Bad Bunny, then immediately after the playlist start to play Eres Mía from Romeo Santos, you didn’t even have time to think about the song choices before Miguel dragged you over to dance per your daughter’s request.

—

“I’m sorry Peter, but if I have to hear you play it wasn’t me from shaggy again, I’ll lose it.” Miguel exasperated as he unplugged his friend's phone mid song, earning a protest from his Peter, but Miguel just shook his head as he plugged his own phone. “You’ve placed that song at every function since we were 18.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small squeal of excitement as Bad Bunny took over the backyard. Singing along to the song as pass around another round of drinks to the guys as they grill, completely oblivious to the subliminal message that Miguel was sending you as you recited Ñengo Flows part. A new modelo in each one of the guys that surrounded the grill (well except your talking stage, he had a Bud light), it seems that your new little friend didn’t seem to understand any Spanish, the message of the song completely flying over his head as he nodded along to the beat mindless.

Once the song ended, the new one played, Eres Mía, your brows scrunched a bit at the sudden genre changing. You were in the middle of crossing the grass lane to where Miguel’s phone was sitting next to the speaker to change it, when you suddenly felt the small fingers of your daughter’s hand dragging you back.

“Mami! Ma! Baile con Papi! I love it when you two dance to these songs.” She begged, you usually wouldn’t mind doing so when she asked you too, but since the guy you were talking to was here, it would feel awkward if he watched you dance something as intimate as bachata with your ex. (Mommy ! Mom! Dance with dad!)

“I-I don’t know Gabi-“ You started, once you finally stopped in front of Miguel, your face filled with a bit of confusion on what to do. Miguel noticed and waved his hand as if reassuring you it’s no big deal.

“He won’t care, right bud?” He said as he nodded towards your guest, but before he could say an answer Miguel’s hands were already wrapped around the small of your back, as he started to guide you through the dance.

You just decided to go along with it, it’s not a big deal right? It’s only one dance.

—

Word count: 700

Baby Daddy Masterlist

Part 2

[ofgrenvde]

"You know what's funny about therapy bonuses?" Duke said, peering toward Boyd with a slight smirk. "Pretty sure he's gonna bill me overtime for emotional trauma after this." He turned back to Rhea, that thumb still tracing patterns across her knuckles like it had a mind of its own. "And yeah, we're definitely wired wrong. Normal people don't end up having heart-to-hearts in broken elevators." Her offer to let him whisper in her ear made something warm unfurl in his chest, dangerous and tempting. Getting that close to her again would be playing with fire, but honestly? He'd been thinking about fire for weeks now. "Tempting, but Boyd's already traumatized enough for one day." There was something in her eyes though, that curiosity that cut right through all his usual deflections. She wasn't asking for the easy answer or the version of himself he showed everyone else. He was quiet for a moment, thumb still moving against her skin while he figured out how to put it into words. This wasn't territory he usually let people into, but sitting here in the dark with her hand in his, it felt right somehow. Like maybe she'd actually understand instead of just filing it away as another piece of information about him. "There's this kid back in Chicago," he said finally, voice dropping lower. "My nephew, Deshawn. Eight years old, thinks his uncle Duke works construction."

The irony of it hit him every time he thought about it. All this mess, all the careful territory management and late-night meetings, and what really mattered to him was some kid's crayon drawings. "Every month I send money for school stuff, new bikes, whatever he needs. His dad thinks it's insurance money from some accident I had." Duke's laugh was soft, almost self-deprecating. "Kid sends me these drawings sometimes. Stick figures of our whole family, and there I am right next to his parents like I'm just another normal guy." He met her eyes in the dim light, something vulnerable flickering there that he rarely let show. "That's what keeps me going. Knowing somewhere out there, there's this kid who thinks I'm worth drawing in crayon." His voice got quieter, more honest. "Stupid as it sounds, I'd rather be his favorite uncle than run half this city." He’d never confessed this to anyone before, but it felt great to admit it. "There's your answer. What about you? What's the thing that keeps you moving when everything else feels like it's falling apart?"

Rhea’s lips twitched into a small, almost reluctant smile as Duke’s thumb brushed over her knuckles, a simple touch that carried more weight than either of them wanted to admit. “Yeah, chaos does have a way of making the ‘normal’ feel like a bad rerun,” she murmured, her voice low, carrying a hint of wry humour. “Maybe we’re just wired to shake things up… or get shaken up.” Her eyes flicked toward Boyd, noticing his near-invisible attempt to disappear into the corner. “Boyd’s got the patience of a saint—or maybe just a really good poker face,” she said quietly, shaking her head. “Though, therapy sessions weren’t in the job description, I’m sure.” She caught Duke’s glance and the tension in his voice about those ribs. “Ribs heal,” she said softly, “but the rest… yeah, that stuff lingers longer. It’s like carrying around a secret weight nobody sees, and you can’t just pop a painkiller for it.”

When he talked about invisible scars, Rhea met his gaze steadily. “Exactly,” she said. “The wounds you carry inside, the ones that don’t leave a mark on your skin—they’re the ones that make you question every step, every choice.” There was a flicker of something raw and honest in her eyes, the kind of thing she rarely let show. “The kind that makes you tough… but also damn tired.” Her hand squeezed his back, a silent gesture that said more than words could. “We’re not off the hook,” she agreed, a small spark lighting her voice. “And I’m glad you’ve got questions. Maybe this isn’t just about killing time in a broken elevator after all.” She glanced toward Boyd again, offering a half-smile. “Tell him he’s earned his therapy bonus. We’re gonna need it.”

She looked at him thoughtfully, still holding his hand but now with a quieter curiosity in her voice. “Duke... what’s the one thing about your life—something nobody sees or expects—that actually keeps you going? Not the family business, not the tough exterior. I mean, what’s the part of you that you don’t let anyone else touch?” She glanced back at the other man again and lowered her voice, "you can whisper it in my ear if you'd like." Was she tempting fate that way? Allowing him to get that close to her skin once more? Perhaps.Her eyes searched his face, waiting to see if he’d guard the answer or let it slip. It wasn’t just idle curiosity. It was the kind of question that peeled back the surface, the kind that made two people realize maybe they weren’t just tangled in chaos—but maybe they were starting to understand each other.

[kachulein]

I'm proud of myself for being able to make it all the way home and wait until I was in my room to start sobbing🤧

[kit-screams-into-the-future]

continuation of this comic! part 2 coming soon

transcript bc my handwriting is very inconsistent:

DOC: -and now I appear to be some sort of cross between man and canine. MARTY: Man and canine... MARTY: Wait a minute, wait a minute. Let me get this straight. So you used some of Einstein's DNA to turn yourself... into a werewolf? DOC: Well, that's one way of putting it, yes. And seeing how I'm not quite sure how this happened, I'm afraid I may be stuck like this for the forseeable future... MARTY: Future? How future are we talking, Doc, because this... ah... MARTY: ...this looks pretty permanent to me, from what I can tell. You sure you can reverse it? DOC: Oh I'm certain. I refuse to believe that this- [he angrily gestures to himself] ...highly inconvenient form. will be the one I spend the rest of my days in. After all, you can do anything if you- MARTY: -if you just put your mind to it. Right. DOC: Precisely. DOC: Luckily, my mind appears to be unaffected by this transformation, although I suppose only time will tell the complete effects this will have on my mental state... MARTY: Can you talk to Einstein? DOC: ... DOC: What?

[tojiscrack]

HIIIIII! First of all I obviously want to thank you for being so smart and creative because liar liar is really juste THAT good!

Idk if you're into k-dramas but i just finished the first episode of family by choice and I couldn't help but think about how much it fits with the dynamic between megumi and y/n and I just love it !! It really felt like i was watching the live version of liar liar !!

liar, liar masterlist here:

HELLOOOO!!! before i say anything, i just have to apologise for the dry response here, i'm on my laptop so i can't use emojis :(

but anyway! first and foremost, i'm like giggling in my bed rn like being called smart and creative is just soooo <3333 ugh, you're welcome?? TY FOR BEING SO NICE AND STARTING OFF UR MESSAGE WITH COMPLIMENTS LIKE <333333333 i'm happy you're liking the story so far!

i am into k-dramas :D i've watched a fair few (weightlifting fairy kim bok joo, squid game, true beauty, angel's last mission: love, lawless lawyer, all of us are dead, etc) but i kinda stopped for a while, idk why? like not on purpose, but i just forgot to continue going through my list hahahaa

FUNNILY ENOUGH, family by choice just so happens to be on my list and i haven't touched it. i heard it ended recently too and i've seen a shit ton of edits on tiktok about it, ppl seemed to have REALLY enjoyed it so it must be THAT good.

but now that you compare it to megumi and y/n... i might just watch it some time soon? i wanna see what dynamics and how the setting might just seem like a live action of liar, liar, as you say...

you've just given me a recommendation i'll actually end up checking out!