#*makes a whole miniature house for him

[rboooks]

The Royal Consort Part 2

Danny nervously took a sip out of the coffee mug. The rich liquid, filled with surgery goodness and creamer, helped settle his nerves as he tried to think of what to say.

Across from him sat Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and a man named John Constantine. Besides Danny, Jazz, and his parents sat, though only Jazz seemed unfazed by the situation, staring back at the heroes as if daring them to start a conversation first.

Sometimes he forgot she was the most mentally stable one in the family.

The Dark Knight had said nothing to him since he was brought up to the watch tower, the white lens of his mask staring back at Danny with no hint of emotion behind them.

This contrasts Superman, who had warmly offered them coffee and pie as they were brought into the meeting room. The man of steel had even allowed them all to pick a mug from the gift shop free of charge, smiling warmly when Danny hesitantly asked for a Martian Manhunter theme.

Wonder Woman had given him a courteous bow befitting her status. She seemed eager to sit down and get the peace summit going as soon as possible. It seemed she had prepared various speeches, bills, and other essential documents Danny had yet to understand in his Government Studies class. She offered the young man a warm smile whenever his eyes nervously wandered to her.

John Constantine mainly had remained silent past the few swears under his breath. He fiddled with Danny's necklace- the Royal Consort necklace. How could he have been so stupid to wear that around his neck for so long without realizing what it was? It did explain why that particular necklace had a whole room to be displayed in.

It was in the center, on a lavish pillow, on a pure marble pillar. Surrounding it were six more miniature lockets, each on their own less extravagant pillar and pillow, with similar symbols. The smaller ones almost tempted Danny until he saw that this necklace had white and red, his favorite colors.

The others had been black and red.

He wonders now what the lockets meant and if giving one to Dani had been a mistake. He hadn't had the time to text her, seeing as he had been whisked away by the Justice League as soon as he woke up.

He was escorted out of his home before ten am with news crews tripping over themselves to get a few shots of Ecto-Royalty. They had his house surrounded, flashes and questions coming from all sides as the paparazzi struggled to be the first to get Consort Daniel Fenton to comment for them.

Danny swears Sam had been one of them, laughing silly with Tucker, who had somehow gotten a hold of a prominent news camera. The two had likely thought his secret had been outed and were trying to sneak him away while pretending to be media.

"Come on. Come on," Constantine muttered in frustration, poking a glowing finger into the center of his locket. Each time he did, a soft ding went off in Danny's head, and he fought to not react. He thinks Batman had seen his flinch the first time it happened, but he hadn't said anything about it yet, so Danny hoped he was wrong.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

Danny grimaces as the sound replays over and over again before he can't take it anymore and finally speaks up. "Could...could you not do that to my necklace?"

Constantine blinks, then hastily places his locket on the table as if it burned him. "Forgive me, your Majesty. I meant no disrespect."

"It's cool dude. You, ugh, don't have to call me that, by the way. Danny is fine."

The magic-user shakes his head. "Forgive me, your Majesty, but I could not do something so disrespectful. I can switch to Prince Danny, but never Danny. If His Majesty Phantom were to hear me make such a blunder, it could break apart any form of peace. I'm sure you know how much ghost value rules."

Danny thinks of the Yearly Treaty, Walker with his prison, The Observant's court, Clockwork's time frames, and even Far Frozen formal speech. He sighs. "Yeah, Phantom won't care, but his subjects will."

"Exactly."

"Speaking of King Phantom, would he be joining us soon?" Wonder Woman asks. Danny has a moment of panic before Jazz smoothly steps in.

"Phantom and Danny agree to not have him appear if Danny is near our parents." She says, gesturing to their horrified parents.

"What?" Mom looks close to tears, guilt making her face seem much older than Danny has ever thought possible. "Honey, is this true?"

Danny shifts in his seat. "Yes?"

"Oh Honey, why?"

"What are we going to do today, Jack?" Jazz cuts in again in a poor imitation of their mom. She deepens her voice, trying to match Dad's happy-go-lucky tune as she dramatically shakes her fist. "What we do every day, Maddie. Try to capture the ghost boy and rip him molecule by molecule!"

The other heroes make faces, but nothing compares to the devastated expressions on his parents' faces. He almost told them it was okay, that he had forgiven them, but Jazz glanced sharply in his direction and knew it was best not to say anything.

She has often said the only way he could rally heal from all the unintended trauma their parents inflected on them- not just the hunting but slight negligence- was to have them first see exactly what they had done. It would be harsh, but it would be necessary.

"Makes sense" That is all Dad says. He's been so quiet since this morning. Danny is worried about him.

"That explains why he hasn't answered the summons." Constantine sighs. Danny opens his mouth to ask, but Superman beats it to him.

"You were summoning him?"

"Attempting to." Constantine corrects. "Prince Danny's locket has a calling bacon in it. Someone pressing magic against the center alerts King Phantom that his husband wants to speak to him. It's difficult magic too. Anyone with less control or power would be blown to smithers if they attempt it. Or, in Prince Danny's case tapping his finger against it works too since the necklace is for him. "

"Would anyone with the necklace be able to call Phantom then?" Batman finally speaks up. His voice makes Danny jump in his seat. It sounds a lot....darker than he thought a human could make.

"No. The necklace would only work if Prince Danny willingly let someone have it. If someone tried to take it by force, the necklace would transport itself back to King Phantom's lair or Prince Danny's person."

Danny clears his throat. ''Phantom and I have other rules. He can only come to see me if I'm not in school or if one of his subjects is attacking Amity Park. Otherwise, he mostly stays within the Infinity Realms."

Constantine nods as if that makes perfect sense. "The strain on your body must make it difficult to keep your husband here."

Danny nods, then takes another sip.

"If you don't mind me asking. How did you meet King Phantom?" Superman asks.

"I'm....a meta. I can make my eyes glow in the dark and I can turn invisible." Danny blurts, making both his parents gasp. Jazz nods as if it was common knowledge and not something Danny made up on the spot.

Those two abilities have always been more linked to his emotions, so Danny thought if he established a fake meta gene as the cause if he was later caught doing them, no one would bat an eye. The world was watching him now, he needed to be careful. "It's nothing really impressive, but I guess the day I activated it caught his attention."

"How so?"

"Um, well I was playing in my parents' lab when my best friends dared me to go into the portal. I thought it wouldn't work, so I did, but it launched me into the zone as soon I stepped into it. Phantom was this big ice looking thing flying by when I was falling in the zone- they don't really have ground in there. Everything was floating, but I just started falling and screaming since I couldn't fly. He caught me and offered to help me back to my home. The only thing was I didn't know how to go home, which way was up or down, and I didn't know how long I was gone. We tried to fly for a while, but the Infinite Realms always change. By that time, my home portal had moved to who knew where. Phantom took me to his lair to rest, Phantom, since he thought I was a baby ghost because my eyes glowed until I accidentally cut my hand on one of his icicles and bled-"

"You allowed your human blood to fall in his lair!?" Constantine sounds horrified. Oops? Maybe, stealing one of Frost Bites' few human encounter stories wasn't the brightest thing he could have done?

Oh well, he's already so far into the story. "Yeah, he reacted the same way. I freaked and turned myself invisible when he saw my blood."

"Blimey, I knew King Phantom is a protective spirit, but to think he didn't do anything to you once he found out you are a human- a virgin human no less- in his own lair? Benevolent is too little of a word for him."

Yeah, Danny really didn't like the sound of that. Sadly Constantine didn't seem willing to continue that line of conversation, and it would be really suspicious if he asked for more information since he is supposed to be the most informed person here.

After a slight pause, he continues, trying to sound confident. "He helped me get home after a while. Once we found the entrance to Amity Park, he asked if he could come to see me again in the living world. I told him it was fine, but I didn't think he meant it for real. Sam and Tucker- ugh my best friends- said I was only gone for three minutes but I swear it was much longer."

Danny could feel his face heating up. This is so embarrassing to be talking about himself in the third person. He felt so lame.

Jazz gave him an encouraging nod when he peaks at her. At least the others were buying his story.

"The next thing I know, my town is almost overturned by ghosts because, apparently, our passing through the portal stabilized it and established it as a new permanent entrance. I told Phantom, who vowed he keep it safe for me, and yeah, he fumbled a bit in the beginning, but he did a good job. Whenever he needed to fight I had to find somewhere safe to hide, so that I could keep him here, and that's why I missed so much of school and sleep all of freshmen year. His last big fight was against the old king Pariah Dark after the monster took Amity Park into the zone. Once he won, he was crowned and he um gave me this necklace. We've been going ugh, steady since."

The room was silent until Wonder Woman smiles "A most romantic tale Prince Danny."

Ugh, it really was. His face grew even redder as Jazz snorted. "Thank you."

Feeling an intense stare, Danny looks up, only to be met with Batman's emotionless face. "The reason you and King Phantom look exactly alike is that he took your shape, didn't he?"

What.

"That's standard practice." Constantine waves his hand. "Powerful beings that need to anchor themselves to the human realm often take humanoid figures. If King Phantom saw Prince Danny and thought he was the most beautiful person he's ever seen -which is likely since there haven't been any hints of Phantom having any partner before now- he would, of course, make himself look like him. He even copied his parents' hazard suits because he likely thought that would honor them. Am I right, Prince Danny? ."

I could kiss you, English man. Danny thinks gratefully as he nods.

Batman grunts but for a second, Danny thinks he didn't buy it. He doesn't say anything else.

"Well, what about-"

Whatever Wonder Woman was going to say gets cut off by a blur flying into the room. The heroes all spring up into battle positions as the blur rushes Danny. He's about to throw himself before his sister to protect her until the blur slows down.

It's Dani. She's wearing her own necklace too. Shit.

"Are you okay!?" She gasps. "I saw them take you on the TV and came as soon as I could!"

"Who are you?" Superman demands. His clone turns to the other side of the room, hands pose in a fighting stance and the British man gasps.

"Stand down! She's a royal!." He shouts, pointing at her necklace. His blue eyes flicker between the two halfas until they widen dramatically. "Princess, I swear we have done no harm to your father."

Dani tilts her head, momently thrown. "My father?"

"You are wearing the Heir Apparent symbol. I assumed you were made from Prince Danny and King Phantom. I apologize if I am wrong."

"No need. I am made from Danny." Dani smiles, likely unaware that the magic man meant a daughter rather than the correct answer, as in clone.

"I'm a grandmother!?" Mom shouts, and his Dad bursts into tears.

The room descends into chaos.

( Part 1 ) (Part 3)

[metalhoops]

Steve was used to climbing out windows. Before his junior year, he’d made a habit of entering through and escaping from girls' houses unnoticed. He was stealthy. He’d learned how to scale trees and tread lightly across roof shingles with the deftness of a nocturnal animal. Yet, for the first time, he found himself escaping his own home. There was a first time for everything, right? 

Steve’s parents were home. The second Steve saw the familiar BMW pull into the Harrington’s driveway, he knew he wanted to be anywhere but home. His parents were only palatable when he had good news, but all he had to tell them was that after their last visit, The Mall had burnt down and he’d gotten a new job at a video store. He really was doing the family proud. He didn’t want to deal with it, not today. 

That’s how he found himself crawling out his bedroom window, shimmying across the guttering and trying not to sprain his ankles as he dropped onto the lawn. He headed out back, past his pool and into the woods. Usually, it was the last place you’d find Steve. He kept expecting to run into a Demogorgon or something equally as nasty. 

He walked for a while without direction, trudging through the underbrush until the rustling of leaves behind him set his teeth on edge. His body moved before his mind had time to keep up. He spun on his heels, hand scrabbling to the forest floor in search of a weapon. It supplied him with a fallen tree branch, almost too large to heft comfortably, but he did it, running on adrenaline. He came face to face with a familiar, wide-eyed boy. 

“Holy shit, Harrington. Take it down like ten notches,” the boy grumbled, showing his upturned hands as though trying to calm a startled animal. 

Hawkins was a small town, the kind of place where everybody knew everybody. Steve knew the boy with deep brown eyes and dark hair, halloed by fallen leaves, was none other than Eddie Munson, or as he was colloquially known, ‘The Freak’. They’d gone to high school together. He thought the guy was due to repeat his senior year, again. He didn’t know what he was doing alone in the woods. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asked.

You couldn’t blame him for being on high alert. Even if Eddie was someone he’d grown up with, that didn’t make him safe. Steve was still riled up after running down Billy Hargrove with his car. He was paranoid. He’d had a rough couple of years. 

“Collecting sticks,” Eddie breathed, indicating the large bundle in his hand. 

“Collecting sticks?” Steve echoed. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe him. He couldn’t fathom why the guy was doing it.

“Yeah, I’m making a miniature log cabin for my D&D campaign, and you know, miniature logs are just... sticks—you don’t care, anyway. Sorry for startling you, my liege.” Steve tilted his head, thinking the acronym was familiar. 

“Is that the dragon game, with the Demogorgon and junk?” Eddie looked at Steve like he’d sprouted a third head.

“How the hell do you, Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington, know what D&D is?” 

Steve wished people would stop calling him that. Every time he heard the stupid nickname it felt like someone was rubbing chunks of asphalt into his gravel rash. He wondered if Eddie felt the same about his title. 

The old Steve would’ve used it just to spite the guy, to see what buttons he could push, not because he wanted to but because it was expected of him. It wasn’t an excuse. He knew that. Instead, Steve shrugged his shoulders and told the truth, something the old Steve never would’ve done.

“I babysit some nerds who play it,” he confessed. 

Eddie looked at Steve in wonder. He was puzzled, amazed and, for once, a little intrigued. He’d never looked at Steve like that back in high school. The two rarely crossed paths and when they did, they never spoke. Sure, Eddie ranted about ‘jocks’ as a whole, but Steve had always just been one piece of a puzzle. It would seem redundant to yell at a patch of blue and grey for being a picture of the sky. 

“Why did you need to take up a babysitting gig?” 

To answer that, Steve had to embellish a little. Maybe he no longer liked lying about who he was, but he couldn’t exactly dump the cosmic mind fuck that was The Upside Down on some unsuspecting guy. 

“I needed money.” 

“You needed money? What, did you get cut off?” Steve shrugged in response. 

“Christ, what did you do? Piss in a family urn? Trash the house? Get a girl pregnant?” Eddie questioned.

“I think generally existing was enough to do it,” Steve mumbled, kicking at the dirt beneath his shoes. 

Eddie let out a low whistle. 

“Hey Harrington, think fast,” Eddie called, throwing the bundle of twigs in his direction. Steve dropped the branch and grabbed the bundle with wide eyes. 

“What was that for?” Steve choked. 

“What are you doing in this neck of the woods, anyway?” Eddie asked instead of responding. Steve shrugged, still cradling the bundle to his chest. 

“Avoiding my parents.” 

“You got any plans for the rest of the day?” Eddie spoke. Steve responded with a shake of his head. 

“Well, you know, this really is a two-person job, so if you wanted to come back to my place, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” 

For some reason, Steve agreed. 

Eddie had a habit of collecting strays. 

There was the cat he’d kept under the bed when he was six and the gathering of stray dogs that hung around the back of the trailer park that he’d been feeding for as long as he could remember. The same theory applied to people. He made friends with the loners, the weird kids, the ones with wide eyes and nowhere to go. He was a bleeding heart, so sue him. However, he’d never expected Steve Harrington to trigger his urge to protect and befriend. That really hit Eddie out of left field. 

Never in Eddie’s wildest dreams did he imagine he and Steve would be sitting across from each other at his small dining table, Steve’s knee pressed on the inside of Eddie’s thigh. The jock’s still hands held small bits of twigs in place as Eddie worked around him with his hot glue gun. The guy had seemed so lost, back in the woods, so unlike how Eddie remembered him. He knew about D&D for Christ’s sake. Eddie wondered if he’d woken up in an alternate universe because it seemed like Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. 

He asked Eddie about his goddamn log cabin, tavern. Then he’d pushed deeper. ‘Why do you need a bar in a game about dragons’? To which Eddie explained, of course, you do more than just fight dragons, which appeared to be news to Steve. Besides his friends, no one showed interest in Eddie’s ‘stupid little fantasy game’. With Steve, questions came thick and fast. Eddie loved every second of it. When he’d asked why Steve cared so much, the guy had shrugged his shoulders and muttered,

“I might be able to impress the kids.” 

Eddie decided to ask about ‘the kids’. He and Steve didn’t have much in common. Sure, the two could commiserate about high school together, but neither man was in the mood to do that. And god, Steve could talk about ‘the kids’. 

“I run a D&D club called Hellfire. If they’re starting high school this year, send ‘em my way. I’ll tuck your little ducklings under my wing. Keep the big scary jocks away from ‘em,” Eddie noted, feeling comfortable enough with Steve to take a jab at him. Steve surprised him again by snorting out a laugh.

“Make sure you do. That Jason kid’s a senior, right? Total psychopath. The kid would peg basketballs at pigeons.” 

By the time the sun set, the boys were in stitches and had a fairly decent log cabin to show for a day’s work. Eddie was surprised that the idea of Steve leaving set a pit in his stomach.

“Hey, Steve? We should do this again,” Eddie proposed, and Steve was too quick to agree. 

“I have work tomorrow morning, but how about the afternoon?” 

Eddie hadn’t expected the guy to be as keen as he felt. 

“It’s a date,” Eddie agreed, before promptly wanting to shove his head through a miniature log cabin. A date? Really, Munson? 

A flicker of amusement crossed Steve’s face as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his too-tight jeans. Mind out of the gutter, Munson. You were doing so well. 

“You’re weird, you know that?” Steve remarked, running his hand through his trademark hair, and yeah, Eddie should’ve expected that. 

Now Steve was going to call him a Freak, the ‘King Steve’, he’d heard about would make an appearance and Eddie would be glad he dodged a bullet by cutting his crush off at the knees before it had the chance to grow legs. 

“Weird is good,” Steve corrected, seeming aware of Eddie’s inner turmoil. 

“One thing I’ve learnt about myself since high school is that I like weird.”

Oh, no. Eddie was so gone for Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. 

Read Part 2

[hemmingsleclerc]

Omg 🥹

ur writing for dad max is soooo cute

Can u make one where Olivia is graduating pre-k or something from school and the whole family attending the mini graduation and being so proud of her 🥹🥹❤️❤️

yes yes yessss 💗💗 thank u sm!!!!

Preschool Graduation┃MV1

It was a beautiful morning and Max was dressed in an elegant tailored suit. He stood proudly next to his wife Y/N as they attended their little daughter Olivia's preschool graduation. The air was filled with excitement as families gathered in the hall, adorned with beautiful decorations and colorful balloons emblazoned with the phrase ''Class of 2023.''

Max's heart swelled with pride as Olivia, in her tiny cap and gown, joined her classmates on stage. The little graduates were beaming with joy, and Max couldn't help but feel nostalgic about how quickly time had passed since Olivia's first day at preschool. He still remembered when he had cried that morning with his daughter in arms trying to convince his wife to stay home that morning and not send her to school because he still couldn't believe that the day had arrived.

Y/N, with a proud smile, squeezed Max's hand as they took their seats. Both families, the Verstappens and the Y/L/N, were there to celebrate this special moment. Max's parents were sitting nearby and exchanging proud glances with Y/N's parents.

The ceremony began with the children entering, holding hands and laughing. Max tried to maintain his composure, but every time he caught a glimpse of Olivia's radiant smile, his eyes filled with tears. He dried them discreetly, hoping his wife wouldn't notice.

When Olivia's name was called, Max couldn't contain his emotions. He let out a proud cheer that echoed throughout the room. He jumped to his feet, camera in hand, and started taking pictures madly. "That's my daughter!" he yelled, not caring that it elicited some amused looks from the other parents. Although his wife was not far behind, she also stopped to record from the moment her little girl got up from her seat until she turned to see her parents and waved with a huge smile full of joy from stage. Both families burst into applause and shouts when the little girl received her diploma. And to Olivia's surprise, all of her uncles were there too. Charles, Carlos, Lando, Daniel, George, Alex and even Checo with his family were there, all applauding excitedly and some crying.

Max's eyes shone with tears of joy and he wiped them away with the back of his hand, laughing at his lack of self-control, but he didn't care in the least.

To the amusement of the other parents, he snorted and pulled a handkerchief from his suit pocket, declaring, "It's very emotional, okey?"

When the ceremony concluded, Max took Olivia in his arms and spun her around as she laughed with joy. Both met with the whole family along with the other drivers.

"Congratulations, my little champion!" Max exclaimed, his eyes shining with pride. Olivia smiled at her father, a miniature version of Max's infectious smile on her face.

The day continued with a celebration at Verstappen's house. Max and Y/N had organized a small gathering with family and close friends to honor Olivia's achievement. The backyard was adorned with decorations and a special cake.

While guests enjoyed the festivities, Max found himself reflecting on his journey into fatherhood. He had always been passionate about racing, but watching Olivia grow up gave him a different kind of satisfaction.

During the celebration, Max and his wife took a moment to share a few words for her little girl, expressing admiration for her determination and enthusiasm for her life. They talked about the joy she brought to their world and how her accomplishments, no matter how small, filled them with an immense sense of pride.

Many might know Max as the beast he was when he got into his F1 car and raced on the circuits, or others as the triple champion, but despite that, he was the best father to a beautiful little recent graduate named Olivia and he best husband for his beloved.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (part 10)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 9, Part 11

summary: In the morning, Miguel reminisces.

warnings: smut! grinding, humping, alcohol, PIV, switch-y behaviour (what's new), aftercare, mentions of depression. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: soft melty mig >>>

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 4.5k

Oh! and I finally made the series' playlists (very open to requests) <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

between your bodies;

You wake up with a headache and a lump in your throat.

Bleary eyes; and you rub away sleep, rosy and warm around the edges. Everything smells like him, is your very first thought. It's the kind of thing that has you reeling, tossing and turning in unfamiliar sheets before looking up at a mottled ceiling. Light creeps in from curtains cracked open, rays spreading like wildfire on everything it touches. Miguel's bed is by the window, and you can't help but curl up what little light spills in with your hands; palm upwards, slowly balled into fists. It's warm, and your hand feels a little different.

Oh.

Like a bolt of lightning, memories of the night before run up your spine; dancing up and down between the sheets. Miguel's hand in yours, his skin pressed up against you, a room spinning in the kind of way that seems romantic. Seems romantic; you note. It could've been the alcohol, but you had felt something between you two, yesterday. Something… different . Your cheeks grow warm at the thought of last night; drunken revelations and so much light, it burns.

I like the way your eyes scrunch up when you smile. I like the way you look in the morning, squinting at labels and cereal packets. You've got the prettiest lips I've ever seen, Miguel.

You burrow under the covers as you recall it; the memory of Miguel between your thighs, his head in the crook of your shoulder. The way he had half-laughed, heady and heavy and thick with want, low groans pooling by the shell of your ear. You're not too sure if you meant it; really, really meant it; and you're scared of what that means. Casual sex was the agreement, and you didn't think you had the capacity for much else.

Sighing, you stretch your leg out from under the covers, dipping a tentative toe on the rug. Bare, except for a T-shirt whose hem kisses your thighs. Mig's t-shirt, of course, and you tug it down as you slip out of his bed. The aftermath, things tossed off shelves and awards that had clattered to the ground, lies in last night's wake. Guiltily, you root around to pick up his things.

They're more personal than the things around the house. You notice a plaque or two from undergrad, his diploma  - biomechanics and chemical engineering with honours - and even a certificate from a middle school science fair. The image makes you smile: little Mig with braces and a distinct frown, handed a plastic trophy in front of a spotty crowd. 'First Place' it says, and knowing him his entry was less baking soda volcano and more miniature Hadron Collider . If he's anything like he is now; he was probably a mouthy little pain-in-the-ass, too.

You take a watch off of the floor, half hidden under his bed. A knee brushes past a clear box; that jostles and rattles around like nails in a metal can. From vague outlines, you can see a box of junk , in every sense of the word: scrap metal, wires, plastic tubing. A whole scrapyard under his bed, and you reach for it, curious.  Something knicks at your hand in the process. Glass, from a broken pane of a frame slipped under the bed. Softly, you hiss, sucking at the cut that draws blood.

More careful, now, you push the frame towards you, sweeping up the glass as best you can. In the lowlight, you can't make out much. Carefully, you hold it by a corner - an intricate thing, all twisted metal and brushed bronze. From out under the bed, you see it, or rather, him: Miguel, a little younger, surrounded by a couple of unfamiliar faces. A taller man, a much older woman - and they both smile in the way he does, crows feet and with the kind of warmth that reaches their eyes. In his arms (Miguel's, but not your Miguel) is a little girl. She is small; wide-eyed, gap-toothed; looking up at him, as if the camera wasn't there. The adoration in her face makes you smile. His sister, maybe? His brother, Gabi, and his dear mama ? 

Gently, you place it on the side table. You sweep up the glass into your hand, ignoring the sting that spreads to your palms. It's not a deep cut, but you head to the kitchen anyway, in search of warm soapy water and something to mop it up. 

Slipping past the doorway, it is deathly quiet. Morning spills in through a window, illuminating a lone figure - broad shoulders, tan and bare save for pyjama pants, hunched over the dining table. 

Miguel doesn't seem to notice as you get closer, finally able to hear slight noise and chatter from a tinny phone. Cup of coffee in hand, you watch as he scrolls, replaying the same video over and over. From over his shoulder, you can just about make it out: music that had deafened you at the time, loops with a pathetic whine. A video from last night, it seems, and you recognise the icon of Lyla's story. Bright lights, your dress sparkling and a pretty little laugh drowned out by Lyla's - he seems to replay the same couple of seconds over, and over, and–

“Mig?” He jumps, leaping almost 3 feet into the air, it seems. His phone shuts off with a clatter, slammed onto the table. Turning, he seems guilty, before flattening his face into something more socially acceptable.

“H-Hi. Morning.” He clears his throat, giving you an awkward nod.

“Morning,” Softening, you slink down to take a seat. He knows, of course: he knows that you know, that you saw exactly what he's been doing. But you're both going to ignore it, let it settle in the gaps between you - a gap that quickly shrinks, he notes. 

The chair drags across the floor, almost catching at a rug on the wooden slats. When you seat yourself by him; closer, closer, oh-so close; you can't help but brush your legs to his, addicted to the way it makes him shiver. Payback, you think, grabbing at his mug and stealing a sip before he can say anything. For all the times he's fucked with your head.

Miguel knows better than to protest, crossing his arms resolutely. He sighs - not maliciously, but with a tinge of defeat. You're too pretty, and too close for him to think properly; to even muster up the energy to argue. And so he doesn't, opting to chew at the inside of his cheek. 

“ Hey .” You say, hand coming up to cheekbone, stroking at it with your thumb. Miguel tries not to lean into it, to melt into the touch. “ Careful. Where'd you go?”

It makes him laugh, bitterly, ruefully - whatever you want to call it. Where'd you go? And you say it like you've got an inkling of all the shit that goes on in his head. He goes to the same place he always seems to be, these days. Somewhere that reminds him of you , of your nights together, of your nights apart–

“Did you sleep well?” You're asking, and it takes him a second to process it.

“Sure.” Shrugging, he lies, and you pretend to believe him. “Long night, I suppose.”

When he picks that moment to look at you, to bore into your soul, you take your hand away; feeling naked , feeling bare . 

“What about you? Did you sleep well?” 

And you hum, non-committal, in response.

“Can’t remember much.” It’s a bold-faced lie, and he knows it.

He chews at his lips, eyes dragged down to your figure. He’s shameless, lashes fluttering before he sighs - with the kind of tiredness that rattles at his chest - scratching at a 5 o’clock shadow.

He’s pinching at the bridge of his nose like he’s battling a headache - and losing miserably. Miguel; your Miguel, this time; looks so pathetic, with the countenance of a wet mop. It’s not a grimace, nor a frown, like always. It looks like melancholy - thinly veiled, bone-deep - and it makes your heart splinter.

You just… you just want to comfort him. To hold him in your arms and stroke his hair, to press kisses into the crinkles at the side of his mouth, his forehead: to be warm and soft and somewhere safe , for him.

It’s a compulsion you can’t fight, clambering over him to sit on his lap. His gaze flickers, pointedly trying to ignore you, but his hand rests comfortably on plush thigh. It sends a shiver down your spine; how tender his touch is, even when like this. 

“I…” You start, tracing a hand to his scratchy jaw and gently tilting him towards you. “I remember enough.”

 He can’t help it, hand travelling a little further up and eyes flitting to your lips. 

“... Yeah ?” And it comes with an unceremonious squeeze at your ass, wetting his lips with pink tongue.

That gap between you shrinks even more as you press your chest to his, with a hand at his shoulder. God, his skin is hot to the touch; lean muscle that tenses under your palm. He gets closer.

“What are you doing today?” He’s trying so hard, forcing himself to look you in the eye - betrayed only by a pounding heart and a lingering look to your lips. 

Coupled with the way he looks at you; kneading at your thighs, leaning into your gentle palm; it makes your throat close up. 

“...U-Umm, I think–”

“It’s Friday, right?” He hums, head cocked as if deep in thought. “You’ve got… stats and lab prep, today.”

You frown. “Yeah, actually. How did you–”

“You’re always complaining about Fridays.”

“I didn’t yesterday.”

“I’ve barely seen you all week, sweetheart.” 

“ And who’s fault is that? ” Muttering, you roll your eyes, trying not to show him the way it makes you melt.

“I listen.” He says, soft. 

“...sometimes.” You finish, but it’s half-hearted. You know, he knows; he listens . He always has. 

“I think…” You clear your throat. “T-Think m’gonna take the day off. I’m pretty–”

Tired. Exhausted. Ready to kiss your roommate if it meant he would look at you like that for a little longer.

“ – hungover .” He whispers, thumb stroking your hip as you snort; ready to bat him away. 

Wriggling, his grip tightens, slotting you closer as if in a trance. You’re laughing, a sharp retort at the tip of your tongue, but his wry smile seems tinged with something else. It’s a something that makes your heart skip a beat – but it’s his next words that have you reeling.

“I’ve got the day off, too.”

You’re taken aback. “Don’t you…? I-I mean I thought you’re taking extra hours at Alchemax…”

“Nope.” Resolute, he shakes his head. “We’ve got appraisals or something, today. Upper management only. I thought I told you.”

Brows kneaded, you give him a look he’s well accustomed to. And Miguel; because he’s Miguel, of course; counters it almost immediately.

“Don't give me that … You didn’t even know I wore glasses until yesterday.”

“That’s not fair , Mig.”

“You don’t want to spend the day with me? Dios mio, hermosa.”

“Mig–”

Dramatic, he tips his head back, clutching at his chest. “Am I that bad? You can’t spend a couple hours with me–”

“Mig –”

“Just a couple, sweetheart, and then I’m out of your hair, and you can complain about me to–”

“ Mig! ” You exclaim, giggling whilst you nudge his head forward to meet your gaze.

“You called?” He flutters his eyelashes playfully, with a hint of a smile. 

It looks good on him, you think; glad that he feels comfortable enough to finally let go.

There’s a gentle lull and he places hot palms at your thighs to hike you up even closer. You adjust yourself on his lap, watching the way he groans with his head in your hands. It makes you bold: the way he moves to clutch at your hand and dart under the lip of your shirt to press you closer. 

A roll of your hips makes him purr , eyes fluttering as he rocks up in thin pants. Quickly hardening, he’s wearing a dopey smile - one you return as you press your forehead to his. He angles his hips just right, causing little moans to spill out from pretty lips. The hand at his jaw travels to the nape of his neck, tugging in that way you know that he likes. You know him, and that makes your chest warm: the way he purrs and rumbles as you touch him in a way only you can.

Roughly, he swallows, head tilted up to catch at your cheek. 

“Do you remember what you said last night?” It’s whispered into skin, soft and barely-there. “What you asked me to do?”

Kiss me. Why won’t you kiss me?

Like something sharp and intense through your veins, the memory makes you shiver, leaning into Miguel so his clothed cock catches at your clit. Like this , you don’t want to look at him - you can’t. 

Ask me tomorrow.

And so you shake your head, nuzzling into his side with a weak whimper.

There’s a pause so imperceptible you might have imagined it. If Miguel is disappointed - or relieved, or frustrated - you can’t quite tell. Unceremoniously, he latches on, taking large handfuls of your ass and sucking ugly hickies into pretty skin.

“You asked me–” He says it between wet kisses, sloppy and hungry and quickly deepening. “You asked me to fuck you .”

You gulp, hips rolling as you close your eyes. 

“ Just the tip, you said.” He lifts you up slightly, rolling back plaid pants. He nips at your neck, all tongue and teeth and claws. “Do you remember now?”

He’s not even inside, teasing your bare folds with the wide head of his cock. Your head tilts to give him more access to that juncture of your jaw. A dry chuckle leaves your lips at his tone and countenance; asking if you remember as he does his best to make you forget even the simplest of things. And that’s the thing about Miguel O’Hara, saccharine-sweet, gorgeous -in-the-low-light O’Hara: he makes you feel so good, everything else falls away.

“ Fuck.” He heaves. “”J-Just the–”

Impatient, you shift your hips, slipping him inside with one delicious movement. You can taste it: pleasure , white-hot and building up just below your gut. Miguel separates with a wet pop, hands trailing up to rid you of your shirt – his shirt, you realise with a moan. Exposed, he eyes your pretty stomach and then the peak of your breast. He keeps you flush to his hips, right at the sharp cut of his v-line, tufts of hair leading to where you both meet. With the way his eyes flutter, you can tell: he wants to kiss you, slathering up your chest to collarbone, and then from collarbone to jaw. He gets close, pressing shaky kisses to the corner of your lips – threatening to break the promise you made to each other long ago. And God , with the way he pistons up into your cunt, you… you just might let him.

Then his hips shift, pubic bone at your clit in a way that brings pleasure to the burn. You’re stretched out, filled to the brim and then leaning back to press your forearms onto the grain of the dining table. Like this, his hands stay squeezing the flesh at the tops of your thighs; only able to watch as you take over. You use a bit of leverage to tilt your hips this way and that - eyes low, not leaving his.

“Feels good , Mig.” You’re whining, eyes locked onto his because you want to watch him fall apart - to watch as all his troubles melt away. “So good. Uhh –Always does. I remember… shit … remember this. ” 

And you take his hand, wrapping your lips around his index and middle finger - thick and large - with the memories of how they felt inside you only making you wetter. Gushing praise as best you can, you slobber and slather over his fingers, studying every twitch and gorgeous groan that he gives. He pulls his hand away from you; gentle, but cursing nevertheless; alternating from slapping your ass to tugging at the stiff peak of your nipple. It’s your turn to stutter, hips jumping as you cum - an orgasm so hard he bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from spilling into you. There’s blood in his mouth, he notes as he studies the way you look: beautiful, always beautiful; framed in the gentle pink and purple from a rising sun.

Miguel slips out of you, painfully hard. Still heaving from your orgasm, you lean forward to press his cock between your bodies: bare and gorgeously framed in morning sun. Writhing, you kiss his neck, trailing up to the shell of his ear, whispering sweet nothings.

“Want you to cum, Mig.” And you do… oh God , you do. “You close?”

All he does is groan, nodding fervently into the crook of your neck. Diligently, you wrap him up in your arms, crooning and sweet, carefully rocking into him so his cock slides up and down your soft skin. For once, he doesn’t complain, holding you just as tight. 

“M’gonna… o–ohh ffuck …”

“Cum, Mig. For me.”

You’re firm but gentle, pressing your tits up against him and making sure his cock gets that well needed friction. As such, you can feel it almost immediately; hot cum slathered over your tits and body - leaving so much glistening on your skin. 

With a rough gulp, he heaves, eyes screwed tightly shut. You can’t help it, brushing away stray hairs from his face, leaving soft kisses in your wake. And maybe, just maybe, you hear him sob - muffled whimpering and whining with every slight shift of your body against his. And oh . It makes your heart melt when you realise, still carding your fingers through the nape of his neck.

He’s overstimulated. It’s too much.

Limp, he stays wrapped around you for a while, muttering nonsense into your skin.

“ Sorry. ” Shakily, he says – like he even has anything to be sorry about. “M’really— fuck. I just need a moment.”

You hum. It makes your heart heavy that he thinks he needs to be ready now , that he thinks he doesn’t deserve more than a moment to process his pleasure. You want Miguel to feel good, you always have. But with the realisation that you want him to be happy ; to feel safe, to feel loved; well…

…it scares you more than anything.

~~~

Aftercare .

Miguel admits, he’s not too familiar with the term.

It’s not something he’s proud of. With many a one night stand under his belt - even, occasionally seeing a girl more than once - he’s never been too good at it. He’s tried, definitely. Tried so very hard to stick around a little longer, to stay curled up in bed and guide his partner through their comedown. Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite come naturally to him - oft susceptible to a glass of water by the bedside and a gentle nudge to an Uber. That physicality: the cuddling , and kissing, the sappy, wholesome, relationship-adjacent thing? He’s never had that desire after sex, much too stuck in his own head for that.

So why does this feel… so good?

You’re taking care of him. He’s not stupid; knowing that your bedside manner is much better than his. You’re merely doing the right thing and helping him past such an intense orgasm: and that seems to come in the form of his head on your chest, limbs tangled up together on your beat up old couch. This doesn’t count , he’s convinced himself: all those rules and boundaries you’ve both come so close to breaking - a little cuddling doesn't even scratch that surface. And if it feels so good to have your hand playing with his hair, to ground himself with the steady thump-thump of your heart, then who is he to complain?

He’s just a man, he decides. A mere mortal, unable to resist that taste of heaven he’s been given - unable to say no . Absentmindedly, you’re humming some stupid song you’ve had stuck in your head for at least a week, now, eyes trained towards a cheesy soap on the TV. There’s a mug of coffee on the table - it tastes like shit, but Miguel is more than happy to gulp it down if  it makes you feel better - hot and steaming as you tug the blanket so it covers him a little better. 

Unknowingly, you’re lulling him to sleep - the very same sleep he’s been chasing for the past couple of hours. Tossing and turning at night, but barely 10 minutes in your arms and his body only seems to listen to you , for some reason. Traitorous bastard, he thinks, fighting to keep his eyes open. 

You’ve cleaned the both of you up - even though he had insisted otherwise. Let me take care of you , he had slurred, and you just laughed ; that pretty, infuriating laugh, with that pretty, infuriating smile – the very same one he’s wanted to kiss off of you since the beginning. Weakly, he protested, following you into the kitchen only to make a nuisance of himself. 

It’s like you're drunk, Mig.  

In some ways, maybe he is. You had steered him away, and onto couch cushions. Which must have been quite the feat, he notes, able to control all 6”5 of his sleep-deprived, hefty limbs. But he supposes, yet again, his body doesn’t quite listen to him anymore. Only you.

Was it that good? Did I fuck the fine motor skills out of you?

He remembers groaning. He remembers trying not to be drawn in by that lilting giggle, covering his ears with a rough blanket. Most of all, though, he remembers the feeling of your body on his, slipping on top of him to dig him out of that heap.

Miguel? Baby, it’s a joke! I’m kidding, I promise.

He had poked his head out. Baby. He likes that, likes the way his name sounds out of your mouth. It anchors him to this mortal plane like a sharp hook, cutting through the brain fog and burying itself into his chest. You had clasped your hands around his face, steadfast despite his wriggling.

…Oh God, even worse. I think I fucked the common sense out of you instead.

He remembers wanting to kiss you. Your lips curled up into that stupid smile, clearly so pleased at a shitty joke. It makes him warm, thinking about it now. Or maybe, it’s just the blanket you’ve tried to suffocate him in. 

“When did you sleep?” You ask, and he has to blink up at you to collect his thoughts.

“Late.” He says it simply. 

That answer doesn’t satisfy you, and you’re poking and prodding at his face, gently pulling at slowly deepening eyebags.

“ No fucking wonder .” You mutter. “You’re turning into me. No more late nights, Mig.”

When he frowns, you stick your tongue out, gleefully watching as his grimace deepens. 

“Or what?” 

“Or we stop having sex.”

That makes him rocket u pwards, indignant. “ You can’t just– ”

“I can do what I want.” Slowly, your face morphs into what must be worry. At least, he thinks it does, not too familiar with someone worrying about him like this. “No more late nights, please”

You say it so softly his heart might break. He clears his throat of its cobwebs.

“That's not really up to me, sweetheart.” Thesis deadlines. Tutoring. Taking on more hours at Alchemax in preparation for a big event. Slowly, his plate mounts, and it takes everything in him to keep going.

“I know,” You settle his head onto your lap, now. Absent-mindedly, you wrap one of his curls around your finger, hand in his hair in a way that feels more intimate than the past hour, days, weeks spent together. “I just wish you'd take care of yourself better.”

It's not said to chastise him, and you don't sound disappointed ; not tinged with the same flavour of guilt that his mama has over the phone, or that Gabi has when he hits him with that deep sigh. It's pure, selfless, plain-and-simple worry. He doesn't deserve it, he thinks.

He looks up at you. Beautifully oblivious, your gaze is still pinned to the TV. It’s domestic, comfortable in the afterglow of sex. That’s what it must be: contentment and bliss settling over him like a warm blanket. The aftermath of being in your arms, of your body on his; purely physical , that follows the kind of euphoria that he imagines can only be found in a needle. Honestly, he’s still expecting a sharp decline, a rough comedown that tastes like regret, or despair, or deep, deep empty. It doesn’t come.

Always the pessimist, but Miguel can’t help it, really; he’s been chasing something just out of reach for too long. 

“You’re gone again.” You say it so quietly he almost misses it. You give him a weary smile, hand clutching at the fabric that pools around him. He watches as you rearrange it by his shoulders, pinching the folds with a kneaded brow. Finally satisfied, you look him in the eye. “Like Ophelia. ”

He doesn’t sigh. He doesn’t scoff, or roll his eyes, or any of the half dozen ways he’s learnt to repress difficult emotions. Slipping under the water - the makeshift waves made of a ratty blanket - passive to his own suffering. You don’t say it, and he hasn’t even told you the half of it; but somehow, you see it . You see him.

He remembers the first time he met you. Thundering and clattering through his space; bulldozing every carefully placed wall he’s spent years putting up. And then he remembers the first time he actually met you; behind the sharp tongue and quick retorts, finding you watery and forlorn on the floor of your shared apartment. Beautiful, of course – always, always beautiful. But that time, the kind of beauty only found in a painting: tragedy captured in oils, careful brushstrokes muddied by time, by loss, by hurt. You’ve been hurting for a while, he thinks, well before any mention of shitty ex-boyfriends and missed lectures.

Miguel recalls late nights spent trying to still his heart, fixated on a sudden, betraying question that rattles around in his head. Are you like him? Do you understand ? Born with something missing, a tick-tick-tick of the count, radioactive and broken and–

Your hand drapes lazily across his chest, tapping and pointing at something on the screen. He hums, non-committal, the words out of your mouth barely registering. It feels familiar. It feels warm. It feels like nights spent on the couch trying not to laugh at your frustratingly witty remarks. He remembers holding his breath when your leg brushed against his; stealing careful glances to his side; trying not to stare at the way the gloom of the TV looks ethereal against you, snug to the slope of your features, cut this way and that.  

But more than anything, he remembers wanting to kiss you. God. Maybe he always has. 

_

_

_

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[f1byjessie]

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part five.

You’ve never actually been to Monaco. It was one of the few Grand Prix you’d had to miss. Logan’s retelling of how it was had been slightly skewed by disappointment and frustration at his less-than-stellar results that weekend, but his descriptions of everything had still painted a picture of lavishness and excitement in your mind, and you’d been dreaming ever since for the chance to experience it yourself.

You’re here now, and even just the view from the plane had lived up to the hype. On the ground, it’s enough to leave you breathless. The deep blue water of the Riviera glitters with the golden glow of the afternoon sun, the mountains stand tall off in the distance, and the grand opulence of the city makes you feel like you’ve stepped foot into a whole new world.

You’re not unfamiliar with the lifestyle of riches and luxury, but Monaco is on another level entirely.

Lando, the reason you’re here in the first place, appears beside you. On the ride back to his place from the airport, he’d caught you marveling at the marina and had pulled off onto the side of the road to let you get out and take a longer look. The boats look like miniature cruise ships, sleek and elegant where they rest in the water, swaying gently with waves. It reminds you, vaguely, of back home.

“Ready to go?” He asks, fiddling with his keys.

You spare the marina one last glance, then nod and turn on your foot with the knowledge that you’ll be here for a week longer still and will have plenty of time later to take in the view as much as you want.

Lando’s house, when you arrive, is just as expensive looking as the rest of Monte Carlo.

The exterior is expertly landscaped and maintained, with hedges perfectly trimmed and flowers flawlessly pruned. It’s slightly lacking in regards to the personality you imagined Lando having. His car is personalized and his wardrobe is a look into who he is, but the outside of his house looks… normal, for lack of a better term. It’s beautiful, nonetheless, but it’s simple all the same.

When he opens the door, you take it all back. The interior screams Lando Norris. It’s extravagant in a way that mirrors what you know of his personality, but it’s comfortable. You’ve been to homes that look more like show houses, where the furniture seemingly exists to be viewed but not used, and all the decorations are vague and impersonal enough to fill blank space and do little else. This is the opposite.

There’s a blanket folded haphazardly over the arm of the couch, and mismatched pillows. On the coffee table is a half-empty bottle of water, a book with a scrap piece of paper hanging out from the middle, and an opened pack of batteries. There are pictures on the walls in mismatched frames— friends and family and achievements from throughout Lando’s career that tell a story of his successes and proudest moments.

It looks like a real home. When you tell him, he laughs.

“With how little time I actually get to spend here, you’d think it’d be the opposite,” he comments.

He helps you bring your bags up to a guest room and then gives you a tour of the rest of the house. Letting you ask questions and answering them sincerely.

When you’re back in your room, unpacking your clothes, it occurs to you just how crazy all of this is. You know Lando, but you haven’t known him for very long. Your friendship has only developed over comments on social media, texts, and the occasional phone call over a few weeks. But you’re here, across the ocean in a country you’ve never been to before, spending a week in his house just because he asked you here and offered to help you with your love life dilemma.

Your life is beginning to feel more and more like a movie, and all you can do is hope it has a happy ending.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 31,871 others

yourusername a pretty girl with a pretty car in a pretty city

view all 3,832 comments

logansargeant think you might need to get your eyes checked bc all i see is a pretty car sooo

↳ yourusername you have six days. run. hide. i don’t care. but enjoy your time while it lasts

↳ logansargeant i’m telling mom

↳ yourusername she can’t save you now.

user STUNNING STUNNING AND STUNNING 😍😍😍

user all three things i don’t have

user WE NEVER GOT Y/N IN MONACO DURING THE SEASON BUT I AM LIVING FOR IT NOW

landonorris *prettiest

↳ yourusername you’re only saying that cuz it’s your car

↳ user yea we definitely missed smth cuz wTF IS THIS 👀

user lando up in here stealing oscar’s girl

user OSCAR COME GET YOUR GIRL

user is she in monaco??? with lando??? 👀👀

user mclaren boys fighting over the same chick was not on my bingo card

user i need these men to make up their damn minds like bffr first oscar and now lando??? bros get it together pls 😮‍💨😮‍💨

user i think we should stop speculating about the relationships between real ppl bc they’re adults and can do what they want, plus they could just be friends and ppl saying they’re together could make things awkward for them

↳ user nah they’re totally together

“The comments are going crazy,” you tell Lando, staring down at your phone and scrolling the long chain of comments beneath your most recent post.

Some are supportive— people who knew you before your brother got involved with Formula 1 and don’t care about the drama, or they’re other models you’ve become tentative acquaintances with after years of working in the industry. Some are speculative, wanting to know if you’re with Lando, what happened between you and Oscar, theorizing about fights, messy breakups, and revenge rebounds. Some, however, are just mean, calling you a slut for leading on two guys at the same time, or a bitch for ruining their imaginary chances with their favorite driver.

You wouldn’t claim that you’re used to this type of negative attention, but you’re not unused to it either. So much of your job requires a social media presence and with your life in the limelight as a byproduct of both Logan and Dalton’s own very successful careers, you’re no stranger to internet trolls and people who are vicious just because they can be.

That doesn’t make some of the comments hurt any less.

“None of them matter,” Lando answers from beside you, his eyes focused on the road. “It’s just people who don’t know what they’re talking about.” He recites it like it’s something he’s had to say hundreds of times before, and it occurs to you that he probably has, to himself if not anyone else in his line of work.

You’re sat once again in the passenger seat of his car as he drives you back to his place. The streets of Monte Carlo at night are dazzling and even more beautiful than in the day with twinkling lights and a raging nightlife scene, but you’re distracted still by your phone, checking and rechecking to see if there’s any hint of Oscar in your notifications.

There isn’t.

It feels like a dismal ending to what had truly been such a lovely night.

You’re in a gorgeous dress, in a gorgeous car, in a gorgeous city, with a man who’s fun and relaxing to be around, who doesn’t make you feel like a side piece or arm candy, and who is genuinely a friend to you. You went to an amazing restaurant and ate some of the best food in your life with some of the best company, got slightly tipsy off of wine you didn’t have to pretend to enjoy for once, and it’s only the beginning of your time here in Monaco.

But rather than enjoy what you have here in the present, all you can think about is the one thing that would make it that much better— Oscar.

“Maybe I should just give up,” you mutter, finally turning your eyes away from the screen. “He probably kissed me, realized he wasn’t interested, and the reason he hasn’t brought it up is because it was all just a big mistake that he wants to forget.”

Lando makes a sound that you’re not quite sober enough to place. “I think the only way you could know that is if you talked to him.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “that’s not likely to happen any time soon.”

He makes another sound, but you’re too disappointed to really pay it much mind, and by the time he’s pulling into the garage you’ve forgotten all about it.

He helps you out, ever the gentleman as you’ve learned tonight, and then you’re following him to the door, trying not to let your bad mood ruin things too much. You’re still incredibly grateful and appreciative to him for helping you so much despite not having known you very well when it all began.

“Seriously, though, Lando.” You speak up suddenly, just as he’s about to open the door. “Thank you for doing all this for me. Even if nothing comes of it, I’ve already had a lot of fun and you’re a good friend.”

All he does is offer you a smile over his shoulder, before pushing the door open.

When you step in through the doorway after him, you’re momentarily confused by the luggage waiting in the entryway. For a split second, you think you must have left some of yours down here, but then you look a bit closer and realize that it definitely isn’t yours.

There's movement from your peripherals as someone in the living room stands from the couch and crosses the distance to the entryway's threshold.

“You’re back earlier than I thought, Lando—” you snap your head up in surprise just as the voice cuts off.

You stare at him in shock. “Oscar…”

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal

━━ a/n: tada! i have the rest of this fic entirely planned out from here and i am so excited to get to the juicy parts finally! hope you all enjoy!

[yeonzzzn]

👾he fell harder: yang jungwon

pairing: jungwon x afab!reader word count: 5.7k

synopsis: jungwon and you have always been competitors from children to adulthood, mostly when it came to gaming. so when the gaming club you both are apart of joins a competition, the two of you are put on the same team…

genre: gamer!won, gamer!reader, enemies to lovers

warnings: stupidly cute wonnie, swearing, gaming fun, a lot fluffly towards the end ♡

“Okay everyone, come collect your room keys and head to your respective rooms until you are called back down for practice. We will select your team members then.” Heeseung, your game club manager, yelled at the top of his lungs while standing on the hotel's lobby chair. 

The professor in charge of this little miniature work/college/vacation clapped his hands twice to signal everyone to line up for their room keys. 

“Hopefully I get a room with a balcony!” you rolled your eyes and sighed at the annoying voice in your ear. 

You slightly turned to look at Jungwon, a smile spread wide on his face. 

He wasn’t even speaking to you, but the fact he had to stand RIGHT NEXT to you when there’s a whole lobby full of other college students in your club he could be standing by. 

You finally received your room key from Heeseung, and Jungwon got his right after. 

“Y/N! What room do you have?” he cutely asks, trying to peak over your shoulder at the room number on the paper. 

You scrunch your nose at him as you turn the paper away from him, “None of your business Yang Jungwon!” You retort, shoving your room key and paper into your jacket pocket. 

Jungwon mimics your facial expression adding in his nasty side eye.

Heeseung calls everyone to head to their rooms, and to your dislike, Jungwon was right behind you as you got into the elevator. 

“Oh? Going up?” he teased, as the other students filled in behind him. 

You ignored him, watching as another student pressed the fourth-floor button. Silently blessing that kid for doing so that is why Jungwon couldn’t see which floor you were on. Because god, if he knew what floor you were on…the ways he would annoy you. 

Your heart raced faster at each stop and not seeing Jungwon get off the elevator. 

Maybe he was a few floors up?  

Finally, the fourth floor was reached, you quickly stepped out, not realizing Jungwon was right behind you. 

Jungwon couldn’t help but smile, his hands sliding down into his jeans pockets as his eyes searched for his room number, stopping at his door and seeing you stop at yours. 

“No way,” he laughed, making you jump, “Neighbors again for the week!” 

You slowly glared at him, making a mental note to unplug your hotel room phone the minute you got inside. 

Quickly slapping the room key to the door and hearing it unlock, you rush yourself inside, locking the door and the hard bolt lock for safekeeping. 

Dropping your backpack and suitcase to the floor, you fell onto the bed, your face going into the sheets as your favorite baseball hat fell from your head. 

The vibrations of your phone pulled you out of your almost nap, your hand reaching into your pocket and pulling the device out. 

It was a text from your best friend.

You didn’t even have to explain yourself to her, just your smiley face alone was enough for her to place the puzzle pieces together.

Locking your phone and dropping it by your face and rolling onto your back as you stare up at the ceiling. 

It wasn’t always like this with Jungwon, being enemies. You actually have known him your entire life. 

You grew up in the same neighborhood, his house being directly across the street from yours. Your parents became friends quickly after they moved into the house across from yours. Your mothers both ended up becoming pregnant around the same time just added to the friendship your families have. What was icing on the cake was you being born a week after Jungwon. 

Your mothers always arranged play dates and was not only an excuse for the two of you to grow up as best friends, but a way for them to spend time together. Same with your dads. 

The amount of cookouts the families would throw together. You couldn’t even count on your hands and feet with how many times you’ve seen the Yang’s backyard. 

It wasn’t just the play dates, your parents made sure you and Jungwon attended the same daycare after they returned to work and even enrolled you both at the same preschool. Your parents would even have the two of you take bubble baths together as infants, and they have pictures to prove it. 

Your family was always at their house or them at yours. Heck, even Jungwon’s older sister was tired of seeing you around so often. Not like you could have helped it. 

Your friendship with Jungwon slowly started to change once you got into elementary school when the fight to be top of the class with good grades was introduced. 

Jungwon and you have always been competitive, even before elementary school. With toys, drawing, board games with the family, and even the stupid little games toddlers play like seeing who can run faster or drink their orange juice faster and not get sick. 

Just the competitiveness got worse once grades got involved, and it didn’t stop there. Family nights with board games got worse. Rushing to see who can finish their homework first and get the least amount of questions wrong. Fighting to be at the top of the class. Sports. Band. Taekwondo. You name it, you both probably got competitive over it. Even getting into the same middle and high school was a competition. 

It drove your friendship apart halfway through elementary school, and you’ve been enemies since. 

But the god giving fate your families have for the two of you to finally makeup, you both were accepted into the same college. You groaned after finding out from your mother that he was also accepted. But once you moved into the dorms, you were happy to find out his dorm was on the opposite side of the campus. Plus both your majors were two separate things, so seeing him was slim. 

But your happiness soon faded after you walked into the video game club and saw his shit-eating grin staring back at you with his Nintendo Switch in his hands as a pokémon battle song played through its speakers. 

Honestly, you should have known he would also join the gaming club. You both grew up as gamers after all. If there wasn’t a board game or a handheld console in your hands, it was the PlayStation or the gaming laptop or PC. 

You didn’t realize how much time had passed when a knock came to your door. 

“Y/N,” it was Jungwon, “Heeseung just texted me, we are meeting downstairs in ten,” you rolled your eyes, forgetting how close Heeseung and Jungwon were, “Just wanted to let you know because I am heading down first.” 

You quickly jumped from the bed, pulling your hat back on your head and your phone into your pocket, double-checking that you had the room key, and busted out the door. 

You looked down both sides of the hallway, seeing Jungwon’s grin as the elevator door closed. 

“Shit!” you scoffed, eyes then catching the door to the stairs. 

You quickly ran down them, thanking whatever God gave you your athletic ability as you finally reached the lobby floor, hands pushing the metal on the door open, rushing through, and seeing Jungwon step out of the elevator at the same time. 

He made eye contact with you for a split second before the both of you made a full sprint to the middle of the lobby where Heeseung was standing. 

“Woah woah woah!!!” Heeseung yelled, holding both hands up to save himself in case you both knocked him down. 

Heeseung held his hand to his heart once the two of you made a complete stop. 

“Can you two let go of this never-ending fight?” Heeseung took a deep breath, standing back up straighter. Eyes looking between the two of you. 

You squinted your eyes at Jungwon as he gave back the same look. 

“Or not,” Heeseung sighed, dropping himself into the nearest seat, “At least sit-down or something.” 

One by one the rest of the students piled into the lobby, Yunjin linking her arm with yours. 

“Okay, everyone!” Heeseung yelled, standing back on the same chair as earlier, “We will put you guys into teams now!” 

“Can I be on your team, Heeseung Hyung?!” one of the male students yelled from the back, causing the crowd to laugh. 

Heeseung smirked and ran a hand through his hair, “It’s because I’m the best gamer right?” A couple of female students cooed out an “ahhh” as his reaction. You had to admit, Heeseung was a very good-looking man and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a tiny crush on him. He was indeed the best gamer in the club, hinting at the reason he’s the manager in the first place. 

“I am just kidding, you guys are all the best which is why you’ve made it this far in this competition.” Heeseung gave another smirk as he looked around at the students. 

You couldn’t help but smile up at him. But your smile didn’t go unnoticed by Jungwon. 

His eyes stared at you from across the crowd of his club members, watching as you made heart eyes at his best friend while he was standing right beside him. 

“Hyung,” Jungwon said, catching Heeseung’s attention. 

“Right!” Heeseung continued, “Unfortunately, everyone has already been put into teams, and we have enough people to be put into ten teams of two. Once your team is called, please meet up with each other and discuss your plan for this week's competition.” 

“Hopefully we are a team! We always fuck shit up as a team!” Yunjin whispered. You nodded, praying to be paired with her. The two of you always kill it at video games together. You’re so happy that she was not only your roommate, but also a fellow club member after you met. 

A clipboard was handed to him and started to read off the names of each team. 

Yunjin unfortunately wasn’t paired with you and was put on a team with the male student who asked to be with Heeseung. 

Finally, your name was called…

“Y/N and Jungwon.” 

Your jaw clenched as your eyes found Jungwon’s. You expected him to have his normal shit-eating grin, only to see he was staring back at you, a completely blank face. No expression whatsoever. 

The rest of the teams were called and placed into their teams. 

“Okay!” Heeseung clapped his hand against the clipboard, “Get into your team and raise your hand if you have any questions!” 

Your hand flew into the air, standing on your tippy toes to make sure you were seen. 

“Yes, Y/N?” Heeseung nervously asked, already knowing what the issue was. 

“Can I switch teams?” 

“Ahhh…” Heeseung glanced down at Jungwon who was mid-rolling his eyes at you. Jungwon felt his eyes on him, slowly glancing at his hyung, “Unfortunately the teams were randomly picked, and cannot be changed. It’s the competition rules, I’m sorry.” 

You dropped your hand to your side, feeling defeated but also understanding. 

This competition wasn’t meant to be fair. The whole point was being paired up with different people and going against other students from other colleges was it to be a challenge. 

Heeseung slowly climbed down from the chair, making his way towards his partner. 

Jungwon slowly walked up to you, his shit-eating grin finally making an appearance, “Hi teammate.”

“Fuck off, Won.” You sighed, crossing your arms as you started to walk away from him. 

“That’s not very nice,” Jungwon smirked as he kept up with your pace, “We are teammates, gotta play nice.” 

You stopped in front of the elevator, finger pressing the up button, “Jungwon, I’ve spent my whole life with you, can I please have some space?” 

Jungwon glanced up as if he were thinking about it, “No.” 

The doors opened and you stepped in, Jungwon right on your heels. 

“Besides,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket and checking the time, “We find out what the first game is tomorrow, want to practice?”

“No thanks, Yunjin and I are going to play Overwatch tonight,” you said without hesitation, leaving Jungwon wide-eyed as you stepped out of the elevator onto your floor, “Besides,” you mocked him, “We will start practicing tomorrow.” 

—

You sat in the corner of the gaming cafe that was rented out for your club for the whole week. 

You twisted around in the chair, eyes landing on Jungwon as he dropped into the chair beside you, his arms filled with snacks. 

“You still like orange soda and candy right?” He set the soda and oranges flavored bag of candy in front of you.

The ache you felt in your heart while looking at the soda and candy made you a little bit sad. 

Did he remember? After all these years he still never forgot your favorite snacks from when you were children?

You looked up at him as he opened his can of orange soda, “What? I know you’re staring at me.”

“You remembered?” 

Jungwon looks at you, giving a small nod, “I never forgot.” 

You glanced back down at your snacks, hands finally reaching to open the candy bag. 

A smirk danced on Jungwon’s face as he took a sip of his soda and let out a small chuckle. 

The soft feeling you just felt went away instantly, reminding you that Jungwon was no longer your friend but indeed your enemy. 

“You annoy me so much, Yang Jungwon.” 

His chuckle only continued, “What? You act like we never used to take bubble baths together as infants or something.” 

“Shut up,” you snapped, pulling your baseball hat down to cover your eyes, “Just eat your snacks.” 

Finally, once everyone was seated with their teammate, the official announcer of the competition came by and announced the first game round was League of Legends. 

“The way this competition will work is we will have multiple rounds of each game, whichever team hits the first ten slots with their wins using the bracket method, will move on to the next round. Each practice day for the games will be two days.” The announcer explained the rules, and once everyone understood, he left to go to another school's cafe. 

Jungwon cracked his fingers and his neck, stretching out his arms and pulling himself closer to the table, “LOL is way too easy, we’ll make it to the next round for sure.” 

You nodded, also doing small stretches before moving yourself closer. 

Jungwon and you have always been smart with strategy, attack, and defense games. Mostly since the two of you have had to use these three things with your self-competition. 

The first practice day went in a flash. You rubbed your eyes and you dragged your feet to your room, unlocking the door and trailing in. 

You wanted nothing but to shower, order food, and then go to bed. But being a gamer, and having friends who are gamers, wouldn’t let that happen so easily. 

With a quick shower and food on the way, you sat at the desk with your gaming laptop open, joining your friends' discord call. 

“Y/NINNEEE!!” Huening Kai sang through the mic as he saw your username pop into the call. 

“Hello hello~” You sang back, “Hope you aren’t missing me too much in Bio.”

Kai scoffed, “As if, the class is a lot quieter now.” 

“So was this call before Y/N joined,” Beomgyu teased, but then a soft sigh left his lips when Yunjin’s username joined the call. 

“Wow, can’t believe you’re on a call without me!?!” she gasped. 

“Oh gross, who invited you in here?!” Beomgyu groaned, his side eye being felt through the mic. 

“It’s an open voice chat, asshole, plus I am ALWAYS invited in here!” she spat back. 

You giggle at your best friend's banter, making you miss being back on campus. 

You decided to open up League of Legends, better to get more practice in before the first round. 

“Ugh! League?!” Beomgyu said disgustedly, “Why!?” 

You roll your eyes, “Because it’s the first game we are playing for the competition Gyu.” 

“Y/N, lemme in so I can practice too.” Yunjin hummed, “And anyways, you act like you were even invited to play?”

Beomgyu chuckled, “Don’t we always play games together? Isn’t that the point of being in a call?”

“Hyung, we are literally playing phasmophobia right now. Kai sassed, “We need ONE MORE piece of evidence to find the ghost.” 

“But I am scaredddddd” Gyu pouted. 

You once again found yourself laughing at your friends, only for your smile to fade when you see Jungwon’s username pop up on the left side of your discord showing you had a message from him. 

You opened it seeing it was just him asking for an invite to the league match, which you ignored. You already practiced enough with him today and will all day tomorrow as well. He can deal with it. 

Jungwon slouched down in his chair, staring at the discord message he sent you, debating if he should send you a call instead, but stopped at the sound of your laughing and hearing Huening Kai’s name come from your mouth. 

Jungwon sighed, you were clearly with your friends. 

—

The second day of practice also flew by quickly, the first competition day being finally here. 

The competition was being held at a small center, just big enough for the gaming clubs and the officials. 

Your team was placed in the third round of brackets, so there was plenty of time to get your nerves under control. 

You sat in the bleachers, watching the current game on the massive screen in the middle of the room that was filled with each player's screen. 

“There you are,” Jungwon said, flicking his index finger to your hat and sitting beside you, “You ready?” 

You shrugged, “We practiced enough, I was confident until watching the way some of the teams from other schools play.” 

Jungwon nodded, “Yeah they are good, but we are better.” 

You looked at him, his eyes slowly finding their way to yours as well, “You’re competitive through and through aren’t you?” 

He smiled so wide his cute dimples you loved so much as kids made their appearance, his ego also coming through, “Well yeah, of course! I am literally the best gamer in our club.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your chin into your hands, “I can’t stand you.” 

“I hear that often.” He teased, reaching up and taking your hat off your head.

“Hey! Give it back!” 

“Since when did you start wearing hats?” Jungwon asked, placing the hat on his head, “How do I look?” 

“It brings me luck! Now give it!” 

You snatched it from him, placing it back on your head. 

“Damn,” he hissed, “Didn’t bring you enough luck since you got stuck with me as your teammate.” 

Jungwon stretched his legs out and leaned back on his hands, releasing a sigh and shaking his head. 

All you could do was stare at him, you struck a nerve with him. 

The final round ended, calling for the next bracket of players to make their way to the gaming area. 

“Come on,” Jungwon stood up, sliding his hands in his pockets, “Let’s kick some ass so we can go back to the hotel.” 

You studied him and his body language, this wasn’t like the normal Jungwon you knew. 

He sat quietly in his chair as he placed his headphones over his ears and set his mic up properly to his liking. 

You tried to focus on the monitor before you, but the tension was high between you and your teammate. You already knew being on the same team as him was going to be hard, you just didn’t expect this. 

The announcer started the game, and your focus narrowed in. 

Jungwon’s whole demeanor changed right back into the competitive boy you knew the moment the game started. 

Before you knew it, you and Jungwon were being crowned as the victors of the first day, moving on to the next round. 

—

The gaming cafe went larger as the teams from your school who didn’t make it past the first round were sent home. 

The second round was Overwatch, which sent you and Yunjin looking at each other from across the cafe from the excitement. 

Since Overwatch is a six-player team, two other teams will be put together for this round. 

The first and second day of practice came and went. Your confidence boosts knowing this next round will be a piece of cake. 

You jumped onto your gaming PC, loading up overwatch and fixing to send Yunjin an invite when your phone vibrates, receiving a call from Jungwon. You ignored the call, hovering over Yunjin’s discord username when a string of texts spams your phone.

Jungwon made his way inside your hotel room, pushing his chair with his laptop and snacks in it. 

“We can’t be up too late you know,” you raised a brow at him, “We have to be at the center early.” 

Jungwon shrugged, setting up his laptop beside yours, “We can play for about an hour or so.” 

Jungwon watched as you sat down beside him, pulling your headset over your ears. 

His heart raced to see you in your cute pink sweatpants and black hoodie, your hair pulled back into a messy bun. 

His palms got clammy from the sudden nervousness that washed over him. He’s known you since birth and sees you as a good rival, why is he so nervous over you right now?

Maybe it’s because all Jungwon wants to do is confess everything he’s been hiding all these years. 

That he hopes being on this team with you can rekindle what was broken and win you back, but so far it hasn’t worked. 

He opens his mouth to say something, just to close it just as quickly, and sets his eyes on his laptop screen. 

As the overwatch game went on, the more friendly the both of you became with each other. With small jokes and Jungwon reaching over to press random keys on your laptop just for you to swing his hand out the way as you laugh. 

God, it made his heart race even more. To finally feel like things were back in place. 

You had to admit you enjoyed this moment. It felt like you actually had your childhood best friend back. 

But how long would this moment actually last? Until you got back on campus for the rivalry just to start again?

You cleared your throat, snapping Jungwon’s attention to you, “It’s late, I think you should leave.” 

Jungwon’s smile faded, nodding softly as he gathered his things, leaving you alone in the room. 

—

Your overwatch team left the gaming area cheering. You’ve made it to the final round. 

Yunjin’s and even Heeseung’s teams were knocked out early on in the day. Which made you sad to see your best friend go. 

Heeseung was stuck there since You and Jungwon were the only team left from your club still in the game, which surprised you that Heeseung was knocked out. He was the best gamer you knew. 

The final contestants that remained, pulled you against your will to a bar to party. 

Both you and Jungwon weren’t social butterflies, but Jungwon was able to blend in with the other students perfectly fine. 

You, on the other hand, were slowly inching your way closer to the front entrance, making your sweet escape. 

Tucking your hands into your jacket pockets, you slowly made your walk back to the hotel, thinking you finally got some peace until you heard the scuffling of shoes running after you. 

“Y/N!!” 

You rolled your eyes, you just can’t get away from him, can you?

“What, Jungwon?” you sigh, walking a bit faster. 

“Where are you going? I noticed you were gone.” 

“Back to the hotel, obviously. Please go away.” 

Jungwon could sense something was…off. 

“Hey,” his voice filled with concern as he wrapped his hand around your forearm, “Y/N what’s wrong?” 

You shook your arm from his grip, staring daggers at him. 

Jungwon dropped his arms at his side, raising his eyebrows at you, “What? Why are you angry with me now?”

You groaned, “Because! You won’t leave me alone!” 

Jungwon scoffed, “Maybe I want to spend time with you? With my teammate? Is that so bad? We literally kicked ass today, yet you’re upset with me?” 

“Yes! You’ve been acting more friendly than normal with me lately! Not your usual teasing me and showing off like you’d always do!” 

Jungwon narrowed his brows at you, very much confused, “You hate me when we are rivals, and now you hate me for trying to be friends with you? Pick a fucking struggle Y/N.” he shoved his hands into his jean jacket pockets, twisting the hand warmers with his fingers as a distraction. 

You laughed, “Why are you even trying to be friends with me anyway?! Everything is just going to go back to normal once we step foot back on campus! So why?! All you have done is suffocate me since we’ve been here!” you took a deep breath, rubbing your fingertips at your temples, “I was so looking forward to having a somewhat relaxing time here with Yunjin as my teammate and us as normal rivals but good lord my luck has actually been shitty like you stated the other day.” 

Jungwon licked his bottom lip as he stared down at his sneakers, trying to keep his eyes dry, “I asked Heeseung to put us on a team together.” 

You looked at him confused, your body relaxing a little, “What?” 

Jungwon looks back up at you, his eyes glossed over, “I asked Heeseung to pair us up. The plan was originally to have everyone draw names from a bowl but I…” he looks away from you, staring off down the street, “I asked him to just pair people up and make it seem like it was random and to just give me you.” 

Snow started to fall from the sky, slowly collecting in his soft dark hair. 

“Why…?” you softly whispered. 

Jungwon chuckled, reaching a hand to scratch his face as if it would help him find the right words, “Because I wanted to rekindle our friendship. I wanted to leave this competitiveness behind us. To fix what got broken, Y/N, it’s my fault why things got the way they are now.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you stood there, continuing to listen to him. 

“I thought it was just us having fun, just two kids being stupid until it got to my head. I enjoyed winning. I enjoyed the praise from everyone. And because of that, our little games turned into hatred. To us being enemies. It’s my fault that I let go of our friendship. I kept this rivalry going for all these years because it was the only way I could keep you in my life.” 

You looked down at the ground, your hat covering him out of your sight completely. 

Jungwon took a deep breath, “I miss you. So fucking much. I wanted this trip to bring you back to me. That’s why I tried so hard. I wasn’t trying to suffocate you, that’s the last thing I want.” 

His footsteps got closer to you, and by habit, you clasped your fingers on your hat bill, pulling it down as you looked even further away. 

“Y/N, look at me please.” 

You were scared too, scared to look at him and he sees how much you’ve also missed him. That you were blinded by the rivalry into thinking you hated him. You wanted your best friend back, but did you deserve him?

Suddenly you felt the pull of your hat being taken. Jungwon’s fingers lift the bill up exposing your face. 

You made eye contact with him not even for a second before his free hand cupped your jaw and pressed his lips to yours. 

Jungwon pulled your body closer to him, deepening the kiss as his tongue pressed against your lips to allow it in, sliding it against your own tongue. 

Your hand gripped the openings of his jacket, holding on for dear life as your head spun. 

The last thing you expected tonight was to make out with your best friend as the snow fell. 

But it was romantic nonetheless. 

The sounds of a car honking on the street pulled you two back to reality. 

You jumped away from Jungwon, wrapping your jacket around your body. 

Jungwon smiled, placing your hat back on your head, pulling the bill down way too far in a way to tease you. 

“I am also in love with you, Y/N.” Jungwon didn’t expect him confessing his feelings to you would be exactly like this, but what better way than right now as he’s teasing you like old times? 

Once Jungwon’s hand was gone from your head you looked up at him, trying to make sure you heard what he said correctly. 

Jungwon rubbed his thumb against your cheek, “I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and then released it along with a sigh, “I’ve loved you even as kids. For some reason, I always knew I loved you, and as the years went on, I only came to understand my feelings for you more and more.”

Jungwon slid his hand from your face down to your hand, taking it in his own, “That's another reason I asked Heeseung to pair me with you. I wanted to apologize for letting you go, for choosing the competitive life over the one we could have had together if I never let you go. If I told you from the start how I felt.” 

Before you could say anything, the partying students finally left the bar, their loud voices echoing over to you and Jungwon, causing him to drop his hand to his side, taking a few steps away. 

“Let’s go, we have a long couple of days ahead of us.” 

The walk back to the hotel was quiet. 

—

The last and final round of the competition was a battle royale. 

Jungwon bounced in his chair, excited as battle royale was his favorite. 

You, on the other hand, weren’t the best at them. 

No amount of practice the last couple of days was enough to prepare you. 

You even snuck over to Jungwon’s room and begged him to help you, letting you in with a roll of his eyes saying you would do perfectly fine. 

You were good at battle royale, yes, but after finding out the team you were up against was KNOWN as battle royale players. 

You even so much as went and stalked their Steam and Twitch accounts. All they play is battle royales. 

The day of the finale came faster than you’d like. 

You twisted your fingers together as you stared off in the distance of the gaming area, your headphones dangling around your neck. 

Jungwon looked over at you, placing his hand on top of yours.

You looked over at him, his dimple smiling being enough to relax you. 

“It’s okay, we will kick ass,” There he goes with his confidence, “I am the best at battle royales, and you are also good at them, we got this. Just stick to me.”’

You nodded, giving a soft pout when he looked away and released his hand from yours. 

The announcer started the game, and the finale began. 

You stuck to Jungwon like glue, looting the area and switching guns out for better ones as the timer ran down. 

One by one you and Jungwon took out each team you came into contact with, but that was solely because of the fact Jungwon always comes in clutch in hard situations. 

Until it came down to the last two teams. Yours and the team you were worried about. 

Jungwon gave orders as you followed him to the next and final circle, sliding and hiding behind a building. 

Jungwon pulled his sniper out, aiming down sights to see where the enemy team could be. You crept into the building, doing one last final round of looting and reloading, ready to walk out, when Jungwon screamed beside you. 

“Wonnie?! What?!” 

“Don’t leave that building!” 

You did as you were told, peaking your head out a window, seeing Jungwon down one of the players, just for the second one to pop out of nowhere and down him. 

“Fuck!” Jungwon scoffed, dropping his headset down around his neck and rolling his chair to your side, staring at your screen. 

“Y/N, you need to down him before he picks up his teammate.” 

Your fingers shake against the keyboard, as you quickly run out from the building.

“You got this,” Jungwon reassured you. 

You run up behind the other player, “What if I don’t?”

“Baby, listen to me,” him calling you baby was enough to make your heart race even more, “You got this, okay?” 

You nodded, switching your guns quickly just in time for the other player to turn around and start shooting, but you were quicker. Sliding out of the way, and getting up behind him with a shotgun in hand, pulling the trigger and downing him. The title of winner flashed across your screen. 

“I did it!” you shouted, turning to look at Jungwon, “We did it!”

Jungwon high-fives your hands, his fingers intertwined with yours, shaking your hands back and forth, “We did it!” 

With no hesitation, you leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

Jungwon was too stunned to say anything, eyes blinking rapidly. 

You pulled your headset down around your neck, letting yourself hear the outside world. 

“I am in love with you too,” You smiled, heart nearly beating out of your chest, “I always have been and just covered it up with the hatred I had. I’ve missed you too, and you weren’t actually suffocating me, I said that out of anger and confusion, I—“

That’s all Jungwon needed to hear, shutting you up by pressing his lips back to yours, cupping your hands softly between his hands. 

All he cared about was winning you back, and he did. Winning the gaming competition was just a bonus. 

He made you fall for him all over again, only he fell harder than he did before.

[chouettecrivaine]

Ah, Young Love! [Our Life: Now & Forever]

Fandom: Our Life: Now & Forever

Characters: Qiu Lin, Tamarack Baumann

Notes: takes place during Step 1, so he/him is used for Qiu as that is how he identifies at this point in the story!

So anyway I'm obsessed with how everybody wants Qiu but Qiu only has eyes for MC once they meet so I'm thinking about his silly little boyhood crush. And then I couldn't leave best girl Tamarack out of the love fest so here's just a few little things I was thinking about with them having childhood crushes on u <3

Note that only the demo is publicly available and I am not currently a patron so anything here that is proven true is coincidence and anything proven false is just me having a little fun

Qiu Lin

So like. I've seen Qiu call you pretty twice in the demo. Once when you meet him if you choose to call him pretty first, and again towards the end of what's available in the demo when he's listing off reasons why you should be allowed to join the club..

I just think that whenever he talks about you he always has to let it slip that he thinks you're cute. "They had on a really nice hair clip today!" "Their hair looked so cute when they took off their hat at school." "When I picked them up to walk to school, I was so surprised at how pretty they looked!"

When he told his parents about you he probably said "this really pretty kid surprised me in our yard and we went on a miniature adventure!"

Also (and note that my MC uses she/her so im gonna quote him using gendered terms but only for this one instance) When he's introducing you to one of his friends, he starts off with your name and says "she's a girl!" (Or whatever terms you have set)

So I just think he says the most basic facts about you with so much awe and wonder 🥺 like you wore overalls to school? He talks like you invented denim. You had a funny comment or joke? It's like he's never heard one before in his life when he retells it.

I feel like…the first thing that makes him interested in you is that you're new. Not only does this make you fun to mess with, but it makes you far more interesting than the people he's known his whole life. Plus you, unlike Tamarack, don't immediately brush off the cool things he wants to show you or do with you if it isn't immediately your cup of tea.

Darren and Baxter are sick and tired of hearing your name !! If you're not around Qiu wonders aloud at least once if he should or should've invite(d) you. If he did invite you and you had to decline, then he wonders what you're doing.

The type of kid to skip out on his weekend chores at home and go to your house to help you unpack instead

Ok so MC says they used to live in an apartment, right? Probably in the city? And MC was only allowed to play on their own because Golden Grove is "a safe neighborhood?" What if MC doesn't know how to ride a bike. What if Qiu teaches them…

Whether you get a hang of it or not, he daydreams about doing that thing where he rides the bike and you sit backwards on the seat or on the handlebars or something

When he finds out you can't ride a bike, he definitely shows off by riding around without his hands on the handlebars.

Will teach you how to jump off the swing set too, then will have competitions over who can swing the highest and leap the farthest

I feel like Golden Grove has a cute little main street with a bunch of locally owned shops. If you're interested, he'll show you every. single. business. Even if most of them are "granny shops" he isn't interested in. He'll let you poke around for a bit :)

He has a special page in his notebook for all the little notes and doodles about you

If you look closely at the note he gives you after class, you can see the remnants of a few tiny little hearts that he erased!!

Going back to him offering you to ride on his bike: he probably got you in trouble once because you were on your front lawn and he rode up asking you to go on an adventure with him on his bike. You're expecting a fun little 20 min ride through the walkable path in the woods that'll have you back home by dinner. Instead he takes you to town and buys you ice cream and the two of you have to struggle your way back up the hill on foot and it takes like an hour and a half to get back and your mom was worried SICK

Buys a pack of pens with one/some of your favorite color(s) and writes you notes exclusively in that/those ink(s)

If you and your mom go somewhere and he knocks on your door while you're out, you will come home to see him sitting on the steps to your front porch and waiting for you

Before class starts, he always gives you a funny face or a wave. If you come in late because of a doctor's appointment or something, naturally a lot of the kids turn to look at your entrance, and he immediately waves at you. Maybe even says hi to you out loud if he knows Mrs. Murray is in a good mood / he can get away with it.

If he finishes his work early or something, he'll turn around in his seat and just watch you from across the room with major heart eyes. He smiles wider and waves when you notice.

Anything you compliment him on, he immediately draws attention to around others. Say his hair looks good today? He'll hit you with a "oh but not every other day?" but then tell his seatmates about what you said.

Buys extra portions of his little snack bags of chips and candy or whatever he likes when he can so that he can give them to you during lunch.

Gets on a kick and will pester you about having a secret handshake until you let him come up with one. He likes having special things just you and him 🥺

Probably invites you to his hideout at a specific time and day every week and he gets soooooo excited for that time to roll around.

Tries extra hard in your favorite subject, even if it's one he hates. He's not trying to be top of the class, but he doesn't want you to think he doesn't care about something you care about!

If you like a class he's terrible at, he'll ask for your help! Or, if you struggle in a class he's good at, he'll volunteer to help you out even though he HATES the concept of doing extra schoolwork. That's how much he likes u

He'll do this with any windows but especially if one of your bedroom windows faces his: he will definitely pull a Taylor Swift in "You Belong With Me" and write notes for you guys to read to each other

Since he can't sit with you, he'll write you notes or make you doodles and then pretend he has to get up to sharpen his pencil so he can pass your desk and slip it to you

Tamarack Baumann

Tamarack will straight up just stare at you 👁👁

She follows you around like a lost puppy and visibly brightens up when you're around

Looks forward to school because she gets to sit next to you all day! Like she'll skip happily along the path with you and Qiu and you'll ask her if she's looking forward to all these things and she'll just go "No!" and when you finally give up and ask why she says "because I get to spend the whole day next to you!"

When she goes to play in the woods, sometimes she'll spend a while in the shallower end of the tree line waiting to see if you'll come outside and play with her

Has definitely thrown sticks and pebbles at your back door to lure you out before she gets bored

Likes to go around and pick up the coolest rock, the prettiest flower, the biggest piece of tree bark, a leaf the size of her head…then before she goes home for the night, she stops by your house and gives what she picked up to you!!

If you're not home then she leaves it on your porch with a note, usually held down by a rock if it's not something heavy 

She'll be over the moon if you give her cool rocks and stuff you found. Even if you're literally giving her trash, like if you ONLY give her bottle caps or pop tabs you find on the sidewalk, she cherishes them. Would make jewelry out of them tbh

Ok so quick tangent but there's a book I read in about 4th grade called Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli, and in it the love interest girl is the quirky type. One thing she has is a little decorative cart on her dresser which she puts rocks in every time she's happy and takes rocks out when she's sad. When the protag goes to her house and finds out, she explains how she has put the most rocks in it since meeting him. They kiss sometime after that and she puts another rock in and tells him about it. I think Tamarack would have a jar or a doll house bathtub and she would do the same thing, putting rocks in it when she's happy! So what I'm saying is give her plenty of rocks so she can exclusively use MC rocks for that 

Also will make matching jewelry for the two of you without even stopping to think if you even wear what she's making. She'll buy kits to make special rings and headbands, braid a million friendship bracelets out of multicolored string, use acorns she found to make earrings…anything! She is just as happy if you wear it then she is if you buy a jewelry display stand and show them off in your room. Eventually she adds keychains into the mix for some variety

Doesn't mean to spend a lot of her time waiting on you but she does. On weekends, instead of going directly into the woods, she'll just lie on her back in her yard and stare up at the clouds, completely still, daydreaming (about you) until she hears your door opening. Then she runs to you.

If any of your windows are open, particularly your bedroom window, she'll send a bunch of paper airplanes your way. Most of them make it! However, you've learned that if you find even one paper airplane inside, you're going to have to check that side of the house for more scattered on the ground

Grips onto your arms or your clothes whenever she can. You two are connected.

Makes a BIG effort to like anything that you like as much as you do! And when she follows you around, it doesn't really matter if you're doing something she doesn't care about. She just wants to spend time with you! It does make her whole week if you follow her into the woods, though.

She doesn't take notes in class, but you leave a writing implement out for her and sometimes she'll reach over and doodle a cute bear or something on your paper :)

If you say you're cold, she'll give you her scarf, no questions asked. Is also down to share but don't let her do that while you're walking because it WILL end badly 

Has wrapped the scarf around the two of you and tied you guys together before and yes it was the best recess of her life 

When walking, she tends to lean into you which sometimes almost turns into pushing you and Qiu into the road if you're not careful

Likes to drag you around places and pretty quickly invites you to her house. She doesn't tell her grandparents that she's inviting you over, so they're surprised by you almost every time, but they don't mind! She's dragging you up the stairs to her room too quickly for them to say anything anyway

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '23: Body Modification | Xu Minghao

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Xu Minghao x Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), Kinktober 2023

Summary: A drunken confession to your best friends leads to you getting a tattoo from the prettiest man you've ever seen, and a loud mouthed best friend gets you a little more than you bargained for

WC: 3.5k (I literally don't know how this happened)

Warnings: tattoos, mentions of alcohol and drinking, fingering, oral (reader receiving), Minghao has several piercings (including a tongue piercing), slight degradation if you squint?, Minghao is bold and loves eating pussy, mentions of marking

A/N: Yeahhhhh there's gonna be a part two to this because when I tell you that this was just supposed to be the opening to the real idea I had...and then it got long and well overdue so forgive me for that heh

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

You did stupid things when you were drunk, this wasn't new information for you. And yet somehow you always gave in when your friends asked you to come out with them. You were beginning to rethink that now as you sat in the waiting area of a tattoo parlor, fidgeting hands clasped in your lap.

It was a dumb slip up after mentioning that you'd always wanted to get a tattoo. Your friends got all excited, insisting that you had to do it, that you'd look so hot with a tattoo, that you needed to step out of your comfort zone or you'd end up becoming an old hermit who never did anything but sit in your house and watch dramas. The last one stung a bit, you had to admit. But the real nail in the coffin was Mingyu announcing that he'd texted his tattoo artist about setting up an appointment.

And see, it wasn't that you were afraid, you were just...unsure about making the life-long commitment that came with getting some random man's art printed on your body forever. Especially when it was going to hurt the whole time. You were about a second away from just chickening out all together, turning tail and leaving the shop when your name was called. You looked up, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. It was just the receptionist, bleach blonde hair with the longest legs you'd ever seen. He smiled, and it put you a little bit at ease. After all, he'd been nothing but sweet when checking you out.

"Minghao should be just about ready. I'll walk you back." He said. You nodded, getting up to follow him back as you nervously fiddled with the hem of the skirt you wore. Easy access, Mingyu had said. "To your thigh for the tattoo!" He'd added after a solid smack to his arm from Wonwoo.

You tugged it a little lower. Maybe it had been a bad choice to get a tattoo in a place that would leave so much of you exposed to a complete stranger. You didn't have time to overthink it because the man in front of you slowed to a stop, knocking on the door in front of him before swinging it open.

The inside wasn't exactly what you'd been expecting, there were a few plants carefully placed around the room, and the music that was playing was nothing like the intense atmosphere you'd been picturing. There were pictures hung up over near a small desk, grinning faces and dorky images of a group of friends goofing around in various settings, and a stuffed frog sitting in the corner of the desk with a miniature birthday had strapped to his head. You smiled.

But the most unexpected part had to be the man sitting on a rolling stool in front of a tray of only slightly intimidating materials. He was breathtaking. Dark hair swooped in front of his face where he was leaned over, and you could see the glint of metal speared through his eyebrow. He was long and lithe, one arm covered entirely in absolutely beautiful tattoos that spiraled and swirled against his tanned skin.

"You must be Y/N." He said, finally looking up from what he was doing and taking the black gloves off of his hands. He stood, shaking out his hair and letting it frame the most beautiful brown eyes you'd ever seen. How the fuck had Mingyu never mentioned that his tattoo artist was a walking wet dream?

"Yeah. Yup that's me. Minghao?" You guessed, shifting your weight to try and relieve the tension that was now tightening through your body. He nodded again. His smile was merely a polite curl of his lips before he turned to the other man still lingering to make sure the both of you were good.

"You know, you're supposed to wait for an answer when you knock on a door." He said, and you saw the teasing glint in his eye as the blonde rolled his eyes and muttered something about Minghao being behind schedule and trying to save his reviews. "Thank you, Jun. We're good here. Right?"

He looked at you and you nearly shivered, but you managed a nod and a tight smile.

"Yeah. Good." You agreed. Jun seemed more than satisfied with that, telling Minghao to grab him if he was needed.

"Hop up here, get comfy." Minghao said, motioning towards the leather seat. You carefully settled yourself into it, letting your legs stretch out and your head tip back against the headrest. You could feel your heart hammering all the way in your stomach, nerves beginning to overtake any coherent thoughts that had been in your mind before. "Nervous? Mingyu said you might be. But I promise you're in good hands."

You laughed weakly.

"Yeah I didn't exactly expect to do this. But my friends didn't give me a chance to argue. So here I am." You said.

Minghao turned to face you again, brow furrowed for a moment.

"You can back out if you want. I won't charge or anything for the appointment. I don't want you to decide to do this just because you were pressured into it. And I can tell Mingyu off if you want me to. Could be fun." He said. Your stomach fluttered at the genuine tone of his voice. Still you shook your head.

"I can't, they'd never let me live it down. And I really do want the tattoo. I have for ages. I'm just kinda scared. Never been good at commitment." You joked. And, thankfully, Minghao laughed quietly at your comment.

"Okay, might as well get it over with, then. Which leg are we doing?" He asked, and you patted the one you'd planned out. He nodded, rolling himself into place and bringing the tray over where he needed it. He was relaxed as he explained the plan.

"Okay, can I touch you?" He asked, his hand hovering above your thigh and you swore you could feel the want burning you from the inside out. You nodded again, and he smoothed his hand carefully over your leg, up your thigh until he was stopped by the hem of your skirt. "Gonna move this, okay? Tell me if you're uncomfortable."

He pushed your skirt up, guiding you to move a little bit so he had better access to the spot he needed to get at. Once your upper thigh was exposed, he laid the stencil he'd made over your skin.

"You gotta tell me exactly where you want it. This is the part where we can change things up. But once I start inking there's no going back, yeah?" He looked up, eyes dark and intense.

"Understood." You said. "A little bit higher, I think? And just a little to the- yeah, right there." You said finally, and he hummed. You brought your hands back, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible while he was laying the stencil out onto your leg.

The process of him preparing the tattoo gun was terrible, anxiety flooding through you as if you would drown in it. The buzzing made you jump, and you barely caught the flash of amusement that flicked across his face.

"Alright, we're gonna get started now. It's gonna hurt a little, but I know that you can take it. Just a little pinch. And if you want to take a breather, just let me know, okay? I'm here for you, so don't feel pressured to power through." He said. You swallowed and agreed quietly. You watched as he started up. The pain wasn't as bad as you'd imagine, though it was taking a lot of focus for you not to flinch away from the particularly bad stings.

It was mostly quiet as he worked, occasionally interrupted by one of you asking the other a question or commenting on the music that was playing. He had good taste, you learned, you had similar music tastes. He'd been tattooing since he finished school, and he'd done some of his own as well. And he had more tattoos than you could count on one hand. You could see the several on each ear, the one in his eyebrow, one in his nose, and the one that adorned his tongue (which you tried really really hard not to stare at when he spoke), but you couldn't see the others and you'd be lying if you said your mind wasn't racing at the idea of him having his nipples pierced.

"We're halfway done," He said finally, "You're doing fucking amazing, knew you'd be perfect for me." He said, wiping over the spot he'd finished. You tipped your head back, stifling a tiny whimper at the way he talked to you and trying not to let your thighs clench. You cleared your throat before looking down at the work he'd done.

"Woah," You said softly. He sat back, a proud look flickered in his eye as you examined his work, dark ink swirling into the shape of a cherry tree branch in full blossom arching just below your bikini line. "It's amazing. I can't believe it."

"Glad you like it. Do you want a snack? Something to drink?" He asked, taking a moment to stretch. You admired him as he did, the lean muscles that flexed in his arms.

"Uh, some water would be nice." You admitted, and he got up, striding to the mini fridge to pass you a water and grabbing his own iced tea. While the both of you took a little break, you pulled out your phone, sending the group chat between you and your friends a series of scathing, vicious texts berating Mingyu for not giving you some sort of heads up about how sexy your tattoo artist was.

The rest of the appointment went smoothly, something you were eternally grateful for considering the very precarious situation you were put in. You had completely soaked through your panties, you had no doubt, and if you moved just right you were sure that Minghao would be able to see the wet patch from where he was working. Hell, his knuckles were a few inches away from it, and you kept imagining what would happen if he moved just a little closer. If he touched you where you really wanted him to instead of just the spot on your thigh that he was very professionally focused on.

The session had ended with him wrapping the tattoo up carefully and giving you an instruction packet on how to care for it and his card. You eyed his personal number that was printed at the bottom for a moment before slipping it into your wallet.

"I want you to come back in about 5 or 6 weeks so I can make sure it's healed okay and see if it needs any touching up, okay?" He said, reaching a hand out to help you up. You took it, letting him pull your weight up easily and then letting it drop to smooth over the fabric of your skirt as if that would iron out the flustered energy that you were filling the room with.

"Okay, yeah. I'll see you then. Thank you for everything, you're amazing." You said. Minghao grinned then, his tongue poking out to play with the metal bar running through it for a moment before he pulled it back.

"Anything for you. I look forward to seeing you next time."

You made your follow up appointment on the way out, Jun giving you a mischievous smile as you said goodbye.

After that, you spent a truly humiliating amount of time thinking about Minghao. First when you got home and your hand found it's way between your legs to deal with the mess you'd made there, then again every time you'd peek at the mark he'd left on your skin, something even deeper than any mark you'd ever taken before, and you could only imagine how delusional you could become if you let yourself.

Every day proved a challenge as you watched it heal, cleaning it carefully just like he'd instructed and admiring the art you'd become a canvas for. It was everything you'd wanted it to be and you were endlessly amazed that anyone had the skill to make dreams come to life. Although if it was Xu Minghao, you supposed that it made sense.

The weeks passed slowly, and while you never forgot about Minghao, the constant knowledge of how easily he got you worked up with a few innocent words and the press of his hands against your thigh faded to the back of your mind. Work took precedence, and spending times with your friends who you did not in face throttle for sending you in blind. All in all, your life seemed to have moved on.

But as you returned several weeks later for the follow up you'd scheduled, it all came rushing back. The reminder that Minghao would be seeing you, that maybe he'd touch you, that he'd be so focused and so kind, it hung heavy over your head and settled as a warmth in your core.

It wasn't Jun manning the desk this time, instead some mildly intimidating woman that you didn't know who walked you back and knocked on Minghao's door. She waited until it opened, an agonizing few seconds before he was in your sight, and the moment you saw him it all came rushing back. Your body felt like it was overheating, and you didn't miss the deliberate, slow way his eyes scanned you up and down. He tipped his head, reaching up to mess with his hair.

"Y/N. Welcome back. Did you miss me?" He was teasing you, and your laugh was breathless and nervous as you smiled.

"Course I did. Why else would I come back?" You asked. And for a brief moment you considered getting a whole lot more tattoos if it meant getting closer to him, spending more time bantering and learning the parts of himself that he didn't reveal right away. Hell, you might even be convinced to ask him to pierce you somewhere.

"Come in, I've got it from here, Chaer." He said, a hand on the small of your back guiding you into the room and closing the door fully behind you. He hadn't done that last time, leaving it just a little bit ajar in case anything was needed. The new vulnerability that being shut in a room with him brought made you a little nervous.

Minghao took a moment to get prepared, settling down on his stool and gesturing for you to get comfortable in the same spot you'd been in before.

"So, how's she looking? Do you like it?" He asked, motioning to the barely visible ink poking out from under your skirt - a different one than before, one that made you feel a little more confident. You beamed.

"It's perfect. I think it's all healed up." You pulled your skirt up with a load more confidence than you had before, and you heard Minghao take in a small breath, his lips pressed into a thin line for a moment before he was reaching out to touch you. He wasn't wearing gloves this time, just brushing his bare fingertip along the edge of the art.

"Look at you. It looks great, healed perfectly. You must be a good listener." He said, tipping his head up to look at you, and the darkness in his eyes made you shiver as you nodded slowly.

"I like being good. Have to take instructions well." You said softly, and you saw Minghao swallow. God you wanted him so goddamn badly. He squeezed your thigh.

"Don't close them." He said, startling you a little as he took the first step across the line. Had you been clenching them? You hadn't even noticed, too distracted by the hungry look in his eye and the throbbing between your legs. "I saw the way you looked at me last time. Mingyu said you think I'm hot. Called me a walking wet dream, is that right?"

You swallowed as his hand slid towards the inside of your thigh, pulling them wider apart. He watched you intently as your head tipped back, breath coming out as a shaky gasp for a moment before you were looking back at him. He tipped his head, clearly still waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, that's what I said." You answered, barely above a whisper. But even so, with just the two of you in the room and the music so quiet in the background, it echoed in your ears. He chuckled, lips curling just a little, and you damn near whined his name. "He wasn't supposed to tell you that."

"What? Like I couldn't see you getting all wet for me last time. Practically had your skirt hiked up around your hips. Took fucking everything in me not to touch you." He admitted, slowly pushing at your skirt to get it out of his way. "But you'll let me touch this time, right? Make you feel good. Gonna take such good care of you."

You nodded, a needy whine slipping past your lips. Minghao tutted, mumbling for you to use your words. You huffed, and he gave you a warning squeeze to your thigh, blunt nails digging into the soft flesh there

"Please, Hao. Want you to touch me." You gave in, and he gave an approving nod before pushing your thighs apart and knocking your skirt easily out of the way. How long fingers found the edge for your panties, teasing along them before slipping under the flimsy fabric to feel your dripping folds. He was slow as he dragged his fingers through the mess he'd coaxed out of you, coating his fingers in your arousal before pulling them away to slide your panties down your legs.

With your lower half finally bare for him, he took a  moment to appreciate the sight, but only a singular moment. Then he was pushing your thighs apart and burying his tongue between your folds, lapping like a man starved at your arousal. The sudden feeling of him eating you out had you choking on a wail that you were certain anyone else in the building could hear, but he didn't seem bothered by the thought one bit. If anything he was spurred on, humming appreciatively as his lips wrapped around your clit.

You carded your fingers through his hair, revelling in the unfamiliar feeling of cool metal rolling against the underside of the bundle of nerves. He knew exactly how to utilize it, the perfect pressure dragging against your clit followed by light suckling that had your hips lifting up towards his mouth.

He slid a finger into you, never pulling his mouth away as he pumped it slowly into you. He was careful, experimental, desperately trying to find every spot that would draw out those pretty little sounds from your mouth. He slid a second finger inside, scissoring them open carefully and making you hiss.

"Hao, please." You nearly whined, hand tugging at the dark locks of his hair, not sure whether you meant to be pushing him away or pulling him closer. He hummed against your pussy, burying his tongue as deep as he could alongside his fingers, your clit bumping against his nose and making you bite down on the back of your hand to keep from wailing loud enough for the entire city block to hear.

Your orgasm crashed over you in waves, leaving your thighs trembling and your breath coming in quiet gasps. He kissed over your thighs, carefully lapping up the mess of spit and cum that had smeared on your skin, all the while running his fingertips over the ink he'd left on your skin. His phone buzzed on the table next to you, and he sat back, wiping the wetness on his chin away with the back of his hand and reaching to grab it. He read the message, lips curling into a small frown.

"I have a client that just scheduled for 15 minutes from now." He said, looking up at you with that same disappointed look. "I wasn't done with you yet."

His words make your lips part, a small, flustered laugh filling the quiet before you found your words.

"What time do you get out? We could grab some takeout and eat at my place. Finish this after?" You said. You sounded much more confident than you had anticipated, especially given that you had just been ravished by the man like you were a five course meal from a Michelin star restaurant. Minghao smiled even so, and the pale pink that tinted his cheeks made it hard to believe what he'd been doing only moments prior.

"Yeah, I'm off at 8. I'll see you then?" He asked. You nodded, making a mental note to thank Mingyu after you throttled him for spilling your secret boy talk. But maybe having a loudmouth best friend wasn't always bad.

copyright 2023 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

An interesting thing about Kaz is the way he views a hierarchy within everyone he meets, an attitude probably defined in him by the Kerch culture of trade and the environment of Ketterdam. Kerch is a country that in many ways is designed to reflect the American Dream as it is portrayed in classic literature such as The Great Gatsby: as an ultimately unattainable and useless lie, designed to control and quell the masses in the danger of extreme capitalism. The social hierarchy in Ketterdam is well-established and discussed throughout the novels, though mostly in Crooked Kingdom since the plot stays almost entirely within city limits, and the attitude of viewing a miniature hierarchy amongst those around you as part of the overall societal structure is evidenced in Kaz, and possibly reflected in Wylan; a link both to their different upbringings within the Ketterdam social structure, and their position as literary foils. (I wrote a whole long thing about how Kaz and Wylan had/have the potential to become each other, so feel free to check that out for more detail if you want it). The city’s hierarchy and the unattainability of joining the rich upper echelon of society is cleverly hinted at from the very beginning of Six of Crows, when Kaz is jumped and then wakes up in what he expects to be the deb of a rival gang. He instead finds himself in Councilman Hoede’s Manor House, which I believe is on the Geldstradt, and the way he makes the distinction is by realising that the decor in the room he’s in “takes real money”. We know that people like Pekka Rollins or Tante Heleen have become truly rich from what they do in the Barrel, and so it’s strange to suggest that you’d need “real money” for this since we would generally use that phrase to refer to a large amount of money. What Kaz actually means here is “old money” or “family money”; you need the kind of money that the Merchant Council have been hoarding for generations, making supposedly risky trades when they have millions of savings to cushion the blow if things go wrong, not the kind of money that comes from the popular gambling dens and brothels of the Barrel. He means the kind of money that Daisy and Tom have in Great Gatsby, people who’ve never worked a day in their lives and yet like to think of themselves as very successful at life when all they’re truly succeeding in is spending their parents money, not the kind of money that Gatsby scraped and saved and began to chase through undisclosed illicit means. Even when men like Gatsby and Rollins make their money, and their name, they are never equal in the social hierarchy to people with old money. (To be clear, not that this is a defence of either character, I have criticisms of both, especially Rollins).

But the hierarchy Kaz places upon himself and upon the others is slightly more subtle, and arguably subversive. He looks down on Matthias because he “stinks of decency” and because he supposedly hasn’t struggled, arguably gaining slightly more respect for him when he learns of him losing his parents and baby sister but still maintaining the idea of ‘everyone has a sob story and you were clearly more lucky in your options to deal with it than I was, it’s not my fault if you made the wrong choice’. We as readers obviously know that Matthias had no options but to go with Jarl Brum and spent the next 6 years of his life (I think that’s the right amount of time, please correct me if I’m wrong) being emotionally manipulated and abused by him, but Kaz simply refuses to accept has suffered because it would be psychologically damaging to him to admit that Matthias was able to go through that and still come out a good person, when Kaz sees himself as having become truly demonic. Matthias looks down on Kaz for the exact same reason, unable to understand - especially since he knows far less detail about Kaz’s trauma - how someone who ever had a core of decency couldn’t maintain it through their pain, he assumes Kaz was never a good person, or never had the potential to be one. Kaz also looks down on Wylan, arguably far less for his attempt to maintain a core decency but because he views Wylan as having had the option to do so. Kaz seems to have more respect for Wylan in Crooked Kingdom than in Six of Crows, when he knows more about (but never, it should be noted, the full extent of) Jan Van Eck’s abuse to his son, once again showcasing that he struggles to accept the idea of someone feeling bad when they have supposedly suffered less than him. His trauma has clearly warped him in many ways, and one of them is losing the ability to see relative pain and how different things can affect different people in different ways; he effectively views everything in the manner of ‘I had it worse, and I’m fine so you need to get over yourself’. He labels Nina “a snob” for staying away from the Crow Club and the Slat despite being a Dregs member, and her response is “she didn’t much care what Kaz Brekker thought”. I think that Nina is possible the person Kaz holds the most respect for in his platonic relationships, and that is mostly because she simply couldn’t care less whether he respects her or not.

His relationship with Jesper is more complex; he judges Jesper for his addiction and yet continually eggs him on, giving him a line of credit to play cards at the start of Six of Crows and having the first step of his planning in Crooked Kingdom to make Jesper play all night, although it’s unclear whether Jesper has ever shared anything about his mother if anyone knows then the most likely parties are Kaz or Inej and yet Kaz forces Jesper to give up his revolvers in Crooked Kingdom, his most treasured possession and his constant connection to his late mother, he consistently infantilises Jesper, but mostly in his head and this is possibly an interesting link to the final nail in the coffin of their relationship; Kaz sees Jesper as a substitute to Jordie. I think it’s possible that he likes to see him as younger because that’s how he remembers Jordie - it’s also important to remember that Kaz is now several years older than his elder brother ever was so seeing him in someone his own age is possibly even more painful because that’s a point Jordie never reached (he was only 13 when he died). Jesper is someone that Kaz feels the need to keep at arms length, not because he doesn’t respect him but because he fears having a close relationship with someone who could so easily slip away from him like Jordie did. I think we can also arguably see aspects of Jordie within Jesper, the naïveté of thinking you can make it Ketterdam followed by the city swallowing you whole, killing Jordie and driving Jesper to his slow self-destruction - “I’m dying anyway, Da. I’m just doing it slow”. (If y’all have read many of my analytical posts you may have begun to notice that’s one of my favourite quotes)

Then we have Inej. Kaz places Inej on a pedestal whatever she does. I’ve spoken before about how she claims to be bad at picking locks whilst he claims to have done “a shoddy job at teaching her to pick locks” because he’s incapable of accepting that she is incapable of something; if there are flaws, they must be his because she cannot have any. In a lot of situations this can be harmful, going back to the romance of Daisy and Gatsby where Daisy is placed on a pedestal and idealised so much that she become more of an image than a person, so when she does not live up to his every high expectation Gatsby is destroyed by it. But with kanej this seems only to elevate their position, possibly because Kaz isn’t claiming that Inej is flawless, but rather that she is capable of working on her flaws in a way that he isn’t; it is almost a form of envy. For example, Inej also has a fear of touch and human contact, but she purposely forced herself to cope with small amounts of it, such as allowing Nina and Jesper to hug her even though it makes her flinch, because she fears it becoming a debilitating condition, as it has done for Kaz (not that she knows that initially when it’s first implied that she too fears contact). In the bathroom scene when she admits to him that she also struggles with touch, it has such a massive effect on Kaz not because he refuses to accept that she has flaws but because he sees her as so much stronger than himself and wishes that he could be more like her. Although both of them are ultimately unable to go any further than a few light brushes of contact, it’s suggested that what trigger Inej more than the touch itself is the sexual implications of those touches based on everything she went through at the Menagerie. Kaz doesn’t see Inej aligned with with himself or the other gang members, but as above them - and not in the way he labels Nina as a snob, but in a genuine manner he refuses to acknowledge her as low in society because he sees her as deserving of so much more. He notably never refers to her as “a canal rat” and he never even comes close to defining her by her time at the Menagerie, a start contrast between him, the supposed low of the hierarchy, and Van Eck, the supposed upper, he yells at her “you little skiv! You little whore!”. However, there is one way in which Kaz arguably looks down on Inej and it’s in a similar way that he looks down in Matthias: how dare she still try so hard to remain truly good, and decent, and to find her Saints and to politely ask them for forgiveness, when it would be so much easier to let the world beat that out of her? Arguably, it’s not that he judges either of them for their faith, but it’s that he fears them judging him for losing his, be that in religion or in the world at all. (I don’t think we know if Kaz was raised in a religious household or not, but based on societal structure in Ketterdam and the way most of the population in most of the countries are religious I think it’s safe to assume he at least grew up with an understanding of Ghezen). Kaz fears that they’ll judge him for failing to maintain his core of decency, which is exactly what Matthias does, and so he aims to offend or challenge them before they can him.

Ok I’m not gonna lie to you guys it’s like quarter past one in the morning as I’m writing this, and oh my god it just got so long out of nowhere… I might have lost my point somewhere in there, I don’t even know, this came from one quote I was thinking about and I’m not sure I even wrote that quote in there so, yeah, I guess. If you bothered to read this far the tysm I hope it made sense

[theemporium]

What about some 🧸 for Quinn Hughes ? Just some shenanigans or softness?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

"Quinn.”

“Baby.”

You shot your husband a look, your hands on your hips as you took in the sight in front of you. If he had one weakness, it would be the little bundle of joy, happiness and chaos that looked a lot like a miniature version of himself. Xander Hughes was his biggest weakness and the whole world knew the boy had his father wrapped around his little finger, Quinn included. 

But he couldn’t help himself when it came to his son. 

However, just like the other Hughes brothers, Xander seemed to have a knack for not listening to the rules and putting himself in adrenaline-inducing situations that wound up with him getting hurt. 

This time it had been the roller skates he wore without any padding or protection despite your constant insistence. However, the young four year old was convinced he was a big boy who didn’t need any protection. 

It ended with a lot of scratches, cuts and a very bruised ego.

Yet, despite hurting himself after not listening to the very explicit rules you had given him, Quinn couldn’t help but feel like his heart was going to explode out of his chest whenever he saw the pouty look on his son’s face. His resolve broke on day two and he wanted to do anything to help the little boy perk up again.

One trip to the local store later, and Quinn had set up a massive fort in the living room, complete with more blankets and pillows and snacks than you remembered their being in the house when you left earlier that morning for work. 

“He needs to learn the consequences of his actions,” you said, and you hated it. You hated playing bad cop. But Xander needed to learn, even if it pained you to see the pout on his lips as well. 

“And he learnt that lesson yesterday,” Quinn said as he reached for you, his arms winding around your waist as he pulled you close. “But he is also a kid who just needs his parents when he feels sad.”

“Now you’re making me feel like a dick,” you grumbled under your breath, but Quinn just smiled. 

“Go get changed and join us,” Quinn said with an earnest smile. 

“Yeah, Mama! Come join us!” You could hear your son’s excited voice from somewhere in the mass of blankets and pillows.

“You boys are menaces,” you commented with a sigh.

“But you love us both,” Quinn grinned.

“Yeah, I do,” you murmured before leaning up to press a quick but loving kiss on his lips. 

“EW!” 

Quinn laughed as he pulled away, shaking his head as he turned around to see Xander sticking his head out from the fort. “You alright there, buddy?”

“That was disgusting, Daddy,” Xander stated so bluntly, neither of you could help yourselves as you snorted with laughter. 

“Sorry, bud, let’s get back to the movie whilst Mama gets changed into her jammies, yeah?” Quinn said as he reached down, pulling his son from the fort and quickly lifting him into his arms as the boy squealed.

“Daddy, let me down! I’m a big boy!” Xander screamed happily.

“You’re always gonna be my little guy, buddy,” Quinn murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head before he glanced back at you, flashing you a wink. “Hurry up before we eat all the snacks.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”

Xander grinned, and it looked so much like his father’s that it made your heart swoon. “Yeah, we will!”

.

[inkdrinkerworld]

A thought I had while watching top gun is in the scene when mav is like "don't tell me tell his family" and Bob looks sad I imagine that he's imagining someone having to tell his wife that he's dead 😭 the angst especially if they have kids / she is pregnant

omg yes!!

“don’t tell me, tell it to his family,” is replaying in bob’s mind all day.

he’s off, and everyone can tell he’s off.

“baby on board, everything okay?” even hangman’s voice doesn’t have the usual teasing tilt to it.

“p-peachy keen,” bob tries for nonchalance but the truth is, the thought of you having to come with your son to collect his belongings because he died on this mission is ringing like a bell in his head. R

hangman hums but they all move on with their day. bob isn’t there yet with his teammates to give them the whole rundown of your marriage and your son.

it lingers on his mind though. he doesn’t feel better till he’s parking in the front of the house and watches you open the door.

you notice something’s wrong with your husband immediately, bob knows you know when you stop your son from running across the yard and whisper, “wait till daddy gets to the door baby,”

“hi daddy!” bob’s miniature twin jumps on him and bob feels the ache in his chest dull slightly.

“hi buddy, you been good to your mama?” you ruffle bob’s gelled hair as you son affirms.

“and i helped her with dinner! we made,” he pauses, “mama, what did we make again?”

bob laughs then, heart light with the love of his son.

“we made daddy’s favourite, walleye.”

bob ushers you inside and locks the door behind himself.

“why don’t you go wash up buddy? and i’ll help your mama plate up?”

your son is wiggling out of bob’s arms in a flash.

you turn to bob and cup his cheek, “what happened today, robby?”

his eyes fill with tears behind his glasses, “something mav said,” you wait for him to continue in silence. “about us having to explain to the other pilots’ family and i just, i couldn’t stop thinking of you having to come collect my suit.”

“oh robby,” you coo, pulling him to your chest as your hand glides up and down his back. “i’m sorry that was on your mind today baby.”

you wipe his tears but know there’s really nothing you can say to get him not to worry about that. “i know you’ll do your best to make it back to us, i knew what i was getting into.” you say softly, feeling his nod on your shoulder.

“it just really got to me,” he says, wiping his cheeks before your son comes back out of the bathroom. “i love you, both of you.”

“i love you too,” you kiss him only to be interrupted by little feet pattering,

“mama, i want a kiss too.” bob chuckles as he pulls away and for now he’s comforted by the fact that he is home.

[argumentativeaxolotl]

Random Human AU Cars headcanons that probably don’t make any sense before I go to bed bc I can.

Lightning McQueen:

- Has accidentally called Doc “dad” before

- Has accidentally called Strip “dad” as well

- Bro can literally not stop moving- like he will not sit still and he tries so hard

- He has the shortest attention span ever if it doesn’t have to do with his friends or racing

- He actually really enjoys American Football and plays a modified version with Mater sometimes

- He was an orphan growing up

- Bro would 100% go apeshit feral if he lost a game of Uno

- Loves carnivals

- Dog person

- Forgets he’s rich sometimes and he can make his own decisions about money

- His love language is hugs and gifts

- He bought the Hot Wheels of his car and continues to buy every variation

Chick Hicks:

- Bit other kids as a child

- Filled water guns with lemonade and shot at people’s eyes

- Daddy issues(actually this is canon isn’t it?)

- Cat person

- Frighteningly good at card games like Casino “house always wins” levels of good. Like bro will somehow know what your cards are without even looking at them

- He put rocks in snowballs

- Alcoholic

- Loves anything horror, gorey, and True Crime

- He’s notoriously bad at getting people gifts, like seriously bro is not allowed to buy anything for anyone for Christmas or their birthdays that’s how bad it is(someone usually gets it for him)

- He probably has a huge gambling problem

- His love language is giving gifts

- He gives gifts as a form of apology because he’s shit at words

- Literally the best mustache in all of cars- like he keeps that thing at top condition 101% of the time

- He never actually finished school because his dad forced him into racing as soon as he could

- Probably had rabies at one point and somehow survived

- If you somehow manage to become a good friend of his, he’ll actually be super chill w/ you

- Rich as FUCK

Strip Weathers:

- Legally adopted Cal after his parents passed away(or sumn idk)

- Has several scars on his arm from the crash during the tie-breaker race

- He, Tex, Lynda, and Cal were practically inseparable after the crash

- He and Tex are literally the bestest of buds like they are homies to the MAX

- He doesn’t hold any ill-will against Chick even if he should and is allowed to

- The “Boy Scout” of racing(think Superman or Captain America)

- He listens to “Old Town Road” by Lil Nas X while working with his horses. Cal cringes every time.

- He never swears unless he’s serious about something or is extremely upset or concerned

- He almost fainted when he met Doc for the first time, almost immediately asking for an autograph

- He has a ranch full of horses and enjoys horse racing as well as car racing

- Received an apology gift of both cologne and a miniature trophy from Chick

- He let Chick sign his cast after the crash

- He’s tried to teach Lightning and Bobby how to ride horses with Cal’s help. It did not go well

- He wanted to be a doctor for a little while before switching career paths

- Racing is literally in his blood(he comes from a very VERY long line of racers)

- Weirdly good at writing. Like for no reason.

- He heavily fanboyed over Doc when he was younger

Doc Hudson:

- He loves Lightning as his son

- He thinks of Sally as a surrogate daughter

- Unironically says “back in my day” whenever he’s telling a story

- He owns a shotgun and it’s hidden away in his house, far away from Lightning(who keeps trying to find it with no luck)

- He knows the most shit out of everyone and all their backstories. Bro hears the gossip and goes “nice”

- He loves watching fruit dissection videos on YouTube for some reason

- Bro is great at knitting. Like seriously. Give him ten seconds and you’ll have a whole ass sweater with a theme and everything

- He is an alcoholic(especially after his crash)

- Never got married or had children… until Lightning and Sally lmaooo

- He nearly started crying tears of joy when Lightning called him dad the first time

- He has several large burns and scars on his legs and lower back from the crash(like shit is really bad dude)

- His favorite movie is the original ghost busters

- He is a cat person

- He is a neat freak at heart yet gave up trying to clean out his garage because of all the bad memories

[kissochako]

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 MHA EDITION

summary: gn!reader x shouto, bakugo and kirishima

tags: gn!reader, fluff, headcannons

KATSUKI BAKUGOU would take you on an arcade date. It’s a new and upcoming place, with all the latest games and the best environment for a weirdly romantically competitive date. You guys would go from game to game, seeing who can beat each other the most. Of course, you win, but not because of your skills. Rather, Katsuki yearns to see your victorious smile when he calls defeat, and your cute little winning dance that you do. It doesn’t matter if he’s not first place or winning, as long as he can see you smile like that, just for him, every time.

When the arcade prepares to close, and you and Katsuki are outside, he shoves a gift bag into your chest. You open it, to reveal the hoodie that he was possessive of the most. He gave it to you, because you had tried to steal it from him every time. To him, the hoodie means another step to being closer, being connected to each other despite any distance of separation.

EJIRO KIRISHIMA would take you hiking. Kirishima loves being active and most especially, being active outdoors! The fresh breath of air brings so much joy to him, what better way to spend valentine's other than to share the joy for you to experience? While you react to the idea in a hesitant manner, you’re glad that you considered going. On the trail, Ejiro offers to carry your bag, he carries you over any rocks or sticks that may harm your ankles, and gives you piggyback if your feet are tired. Sure, Ejiro is exhausted as hell, but once you guys hit the peak, it’s all worth it. Seeing your eyes glimmer and sparkle at the exhilarating sight, and he would do it over a hundred times over if it means seeing your smile hundred times over.

Ejiro invites you to sit down, to truly take in the view. You sit next to him, laying yourself on his side. He opens his backpack, to show a homemade miniature teddy, holding a card, professing his undying love for you. You hug him tightly and peck his cheeks lightly, repeating about how cute it is and you love him. After seeing your reaction, he suddenly forgets about the pain he had to endure for always accidentally poking needles into his thumb.

SHOUTO TODOROKI takes you out to the mall, which has all high end and designer brands. Shouto shows you around the place, as you aren’t used to being able to actually visit and buy items from such exquisite places, rather than gawking from the window. He knows every owner and manager of each store, so he’s able to give you private appointments of buying new clothes, jewellery and handbags. All the while, he’s in the corner, admiring how you can make any piece of material look so majestic on you.

After, you and Shouto get some food at a nearby restaurant, ending the night. He calls his driver to escort you back to your house. Once you arrive, you realise why Shouto didn’t ride with you tonight. He was busy making arrangements to deliver the most elegant and vibrant flowers that you’ve ever seen before. The whole porch was covered in a diverse yet artfully arranged assembly of flowers. You call him immediately to tell him how much you love him and are so gracious to him, while all he said was thank you, he was thinking of a whole novel to say to you.

[xbruised-peachx]

Yooo first time ever requesting anything on this platform but like. Gromsko? Fender? As dads 😳? Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure for more content with my favs :3

OHHHH SWEET ANON I've thought about this a lot, in particular with Grom, might make a render someday... eventually... when i have time... dont hold me to this.

Tags: fem!reader, pregnancy, critical levels of cuteness and sweetness, author is not responsible for baby fever caused by this fic, one-shot, not betaread

Gromdad/Dad!Gromsko ⛈🇵🇱

He's always been a family man, not even just for wanting kids. Learning to care from his grandmother, he knows there's so much more that goes into having a truly good family life beyond just having a big family. He knows the value of true familial love that some struggle with because all they want is some big lineage. He's seen swaths of men who just want to pass on their genes but then not be there for the family they helped create. He never wants to be like that. He wants to be like his grandmother, like the other men in his family; true, respectful men that bring honor to them through compassion, care, and true familial love. Someone that will be passed down through generations due to the genuine heart he has.

Announcing to him that you're pregnant would genuinely brighten up his whole day. He would sit silent for moments as a smile crept up his face, in complete disbelief as his mind raced. He would only be able to choke out a soft "W-what?", unable to hide his smile as it grew and he laughed out of sheer awe. Head in his hands as his mind scrambled more for what to say, struggling even to gather a thought in his native language, let alone translate it. You rubbed your hand on his back, worried about him but he'd quickly pull you in for a tight embrace, taking a deep inhale in as he rested his head into the crook of your neck. Pulling back, you saw as he had a soft smile, his eyes gleaming a bit more as he showed a soft expression, wet with tears that threatened to come out. "I... I think I'm the happiest man in the world right now."

Having him around during pregnancy was a godsend. Sure, his medical training was for war and not for prenatal care, but he would be trying his damnedest and reading professional books on care. He wouldn't dare you to lift a finger the entire time, making meals for you like he usually would, and cleaning the house. Whatever you are craving, he'll figure out a way to mix it up even if it's... questionable in flavor to him. He also adores shopping with you, picking out a theme for an animal for the nursery, going with lions with the warm orange and oak colors making it very inviting as he set up the furniture. He especially adored the small scale clothes and shoes, and you couldn't even resist the cute allure of the matching red and white tracksuit when it was in a miniature scale. The nights though were where the true comfort lied, just on the couch, watching a movie or show while wrapped in blankets, his arms wrapped around your waist as he softly rubbed where the bump was forming. You couldn't see his face due to the position but he would be looking in absolute adoration. He knew pregnancy was hard on you, but that you were more than willing to put up with it for him? He will do anything to make it easier for you.

Above all, he is an amazing father once the baby is born. He admits, he cried when he first saw them and held them in his arms. He wasn't ever the man to cry, but the pure joy made him break. No doubt too with him being a big guy himself, his kid would come out naturally big and stay that way through infancy (I think of the one tiktok where he says "you look like a busted can of biscuits"... feel like that happened to Sobi at least once). One of his favorite things to do is while the baby is on their back, grabbing his helmet and going over them, letting the little bits of fabric dangle down as he leans down, shaking his head lightly as he watches the baby's reaction, eyes going wide then a huge smile growing as the baby starts giggling. His own smile goes wide as he hears every time the baby lets out a screaming laugh as he shakes his head. Watching it all warms you heart. It warms your heart even more as nighttime hits and you hear a low voice coming from the nursery, a tune that is out of key but warm and inviting in his own way. To his side a "Goodnight Moon" book but his singing... He expressed how he wanted to have the baby know both English and Polish. And there he was, softly singing in a rocking chair, no doubt his baritone singing making a soothing rumble as the baby fell asleep against his chest; Oj, lulaj, lulaj... Maleńki sokole... Oj, jak ty mnie urośniesz... Pójdziesz ze mną w pole...

Dad!Fender 🤘🇭🇺

He's always had the looming loss of his father over him, that legacy being his driving force as a soldier. But when he got with you? A new type of dread loomed over him; would he meet the same fate as his father? The thought terrified him, leaving you alone to raise a child, he didn't want to leave another child with the same fate as him. He wanted to be different.

When you told him about the results of the test, you were worried. You knew he wouldn't end things with you but that this still was completely unplanned. And that made him think of his own parents again. He remained silent, thinking in his head of what his own father must have thought when he was told... but as your hand slid over his and he met your eyes, seeing that worry and doubt, it melted him a bit. He thought of how his father must have thought at the time, with his mission in Budapest, the situation in Budapest at the time... thought story had its parallels, he realized it was different. He wasn't a CIA operative in a different country, he was a strong soldier in his own way, now working for a PMC that he could break his contract with for the time being. He had a strong relation with Kortac and they would absolutely understand his absence. He realized he can make it different, he will break the fate. Taking your hand and meeting your eyes, he looked determined but caring still, a smile on his face as he spoke, "We got this... We'll be strong together and get through this, darling... I'll be here for you."

With his break from Kortac he was more than willing to care for you while you were pregnant. His love of working out meant he had plenty of vitamins to help out both you and the baby, but also he was more than willing to grab new ones that were specialized for prenatal. Anytime you passed out on the couch, taking a nap just from the sheer work of your body growing your child. He'd smile and lift you with ease to the bed, often just taking a moment to lay with you while you rested. It warmed his heart being there for you. He had no mission professionally, just the goal of being there for you and supporting you. He felt less dread as time went on and he saw you happily walking around the home, smiling as you leaned on the doorway to the new nursery as he put together the complicated furniture.

When the baby was born, he couldn't ever describe the elation he felt. His own father dying before he was born, he finally felt at ease as he proved he could break the cycle, that it wasn't his destiny to have the same fate as his father, even if there was parallels. He'd carry everything for you out of the hospital, including the baby themself. And he always wanted to be there for you and the baby after, he was often the one getting up in the middle of the night when they cried, not minding at all as he savored every moment he got with them. He loved spending tummy time with you and them, encouraging the lil' thing as they grew and got stronger. Every moment was so precious to him, and he was glad to be there. Though his dad seemed before to be an omen, now he couldn't help but think of him positively, hoping wherever he was that he could see the proud man he left on this world, now a proud father.

[yeonzzzn]

🎵main one: beomgyu x fem!reader | high-school au!, rockstar!beoms, popular!beoms, neighbors. | warnings: cute ♡

wanting to be your main one even if it’s just tonight…

[3.1k words] ☆ [pls do not repost]

The way Beomgyu walks down the halls and waves makes it seem like he’s the king and we are his subjects. 

You leaned against your locker, watching closely at how every girl in the hall was practically on their knees for Beomgyu. 

He was the most popular guy in school, and you understood completely why he was. He’s been your next-door neighbor for as long as you can remember. 

As children, you two would play together at the park or in the front yard of each other's houses. But on the first day of middle school, everything changed. 

Other girls started noticing him, he was welcomed in with the other popular kids at school. And the two of you grew apart. 

You felt jealous over the attention he would get from classmates, you were in love with him after all. Always had been. 

Growing up Beomgyu’s bedroom was right across from yours, you watched as he grew taller, watched as his room changed from action figures and toys to guitars and rock n roll posters. He set up a miniature recording booth in the corner.  His outfits changed from his colorful aura to black leather jackets, white tank tops, ripped skinny jeans, and black combat boots, and even grew his hair longer. 

Beomgyu became the definition of a rockstar. And it made you fall even more in love with him. 

You would sit at your desk and listen as he would sing into the microphone, closing your eyes, and just listening to the soothing of his voice. You could have sworn he had the voice of an angel. 

Watching as his room changed, you always watched the multiple girls he would sneak in and out of his house in the middle of the night. Which didn’t start until late junior year of high school. 

You tried to keep to yourself, to not peek out your window to try and listen to what they could possibly be talking about or doing, but it was hard when Beomgyu kept his blinds open as if he was inviting you to watch. 

The temptation always got the best of you, as you would peek out of the side of your eyes, seeing them making out on his bed as the female would straddle him, hands messing up his perfectly beautiful hair. 

You didn’t realize how much your head had turned until Beomgyu’s mocha eyes matched with yours. The girl was leaving kisses on his neck, giving Beomgyu a full view of you. 

You felt your face flush and the smirk that played on his face as he looked back at you, his lower lip tucking gently between his teeth. 

You quickly got up and rushed to your window, dropping the blinds, and making them out of sight. 

So it made complete sense why Beomgyu was strolling around campus today acting like the mighty king he was with the girl he was making out with the night before attached to his hip. 

You shook your head, how could the sweet boy you once played in the dirt with, grow up to be such a player? 

You rested your head against the locker, picturing what it would look like if it were you beside him inside of her. His arm wrapped around your hip, your hands in his chest, head resting on his shoulder. The whole school being jealous of the power couple you’d be. Oh, what you would do to be one of his girls…

But unfortunately, Beomgyu doesn’t date. He’s made that much clear. 

Beomgyu makes eye contact with you, giving you a wide smile. 

You quickly turned around facing your locker, gripping the lock and putting in the combination acting as if you needed to get something out. Anything to make it seem like you saw nothing last night. 

But you weren’t free like you thought. 

Beomgyu appears to your right, closing the locker door. You slightly jumped at his appearance, not wanting to look at him. 

“Y/N,” he said with a tease in his tone. 

“Beomgyu.” 

Beomgyu softly poked your shoulder, “You going to look at me?” 

You ignored him. 

He sighed, flipping you around to face him. You pressed against the locker, one of his hands to the right of your head, pushing the other hand into the pocket of his jeans. 

You stared up at him, his doe eyes connecting with yours.

“We are neighbors and childhood friends, you think you can just ignore me like that?” 

You scoff, “Beoms, we barely speak to each other.” 

He nodded, but a smirk played across his face, “Enjoy your view last night? Hmm?” 

You felt your face redden, Beomgyu’s smile widening. It took everything in you to look away and to bite your tongue. 

“I saw nothing.” 

“Y/N, you can’t lie to me. I’ve known you practically since birth, you don’t think I haven’t noticed that you watch me?”

You wanted to push and shout at him for even bringing up how close you two used to be. To be angry with him for cornering you like this. 

“Maybe you should keep your blinds closed,” you snapped, pushing him away from you, “we are done here.” 

You shoved your shoulder into him as you walked away from him.

“Y/N!” he called for you. 

And your response was flipping him the bird, as you made your way down the hall. 

Beomgyu chuckled as he watched you leave him, his lips tucking between his teeth. 

—

“Y/N!!! Girl!! you HAVE to go with me tomorrow night!” your best friend, Joy shouted out. 

You rolled your eyes at her while you folded your laundry, “I said I would like to stay home and catch up on my dramas.” 

She rolled her eyes back at you, “Girl, you watch your dramas every weekend!” you walk to the closet and put away your clean clothes, “it’s the last game of the school year before we graduate! Come on! please!”

You cross your arms, watching as your best friend give you her begging eyes. 

And it broke you. 

“Fine!” you shouted at her, “but I won’t go to the party afterward.” 

Joy flung herself onto your bed, kicking her feet back and forth, “you’ll definitely come to the party too.”

Before you could protest, a shout came from Beomgyu’s room, scaring the living hell out of both you and Joy. 

You both ran to your window and flung it open, staring across the way at Beomgyu, who was pacing around his room in excitement. 

“What’s going on with him?” Joy asked, raising an eyebrow. 

You shrugged, “who knows when it comes to him, he could have won an auction for a new guitar or something.” 

Joy shoved herself out the window, “Hey! Choi Beomgyu!” 

He looks over, copying Joy’s position out his own window, “Hey! Kim Joy!” 

“Keep it down will ya?” she pouts, “some people are trying to enjoy the peace and quiet.”

Beomgyu snickered, “Then why are you yelling at me?”

“Ugh! Because we want peace and quiet. Why are you so loud!”

“Motor.” he winked. 

“Well keep the motor down!” Joy said, stepping away from the window. 

You closed the window, watching as Beomgyu did the same, he gave you a soft smile before dropping the blinds, removing him from your sight. 

“Anyways you’re going to the party!” Joy clapped. 

“No! I am not!” 

—

You found yourself standing in the corner of the room surrounded by a sea of drunk toddlers. Well, high school students but they were acting like toddlers. 

Your eyes connected with Joy, who was having the time of her life dancing on the couch, motioning for you to come over with her. 

Shaking your head, you sank deeper into the wall, wishing you could slip inside it away from everyone else. 

You couldn’t believe she even talked you into coming tonight. You wanted to stand your ground but you obviously broke. 

Taehyun, the class president, who was also the one throwing this party, stood on top of the coffee table in the living room, waving his hands in the air, attempting to get everyone’s attention. 

To his dismay, it didn’t work. Taehyun glances around the room, locking eyes with someone and motioning them over, “Beomgyu!” 

You froze up. Wait?!? He's here?! You wanted to leave immediately. To disappear into thin air never to be seen again. You caught yourself fixing your black skirt, making sure it was in the right place, flattening out your cream-colored crop, and adjusting your fire-red leather jacket. 

You caught yourself just as you glanced down at your boots to make sure they were tied when you realized just exactly what you were doing. 

You didn’t need to fix yourself for him. He wasn’t interested in you at all. 

You watched as Beomgyu stood on the table beside his best friend, slipping his index and thumb between his lips, letting out a strong loud whistle. It was even louder than the music. 

“Thank you, Gyu,” Taehyun nodded at his friend, “now get the fuck off my coffee table, this shit was expensive.” 

Beomgyu chuckled as he jumped down from the table, motioning for the younger one to proceed. 

“Now then, with the celebration of the fact that we all graduate in a few months!” The sea of students clapped and cheered, “And the fact we won the game tonight, drank to the victory and now it’s time for the party games!” More cheers from the crowd, “We will get into multiple groups and play games, rotating between them. Everyone get into groups of at least ten, if you don’t want to play games then get the fuck out of my house! LETS GO!!” 

Everyone scattered around the house, getting into their groups and setting themselves up at each game station Taehyun had prepared. 

Joy made her way towards you, you automatically waved your hands to shoo her away, “No! Joy, I don’t want to!”

She linked her arm with yours anyway, dragging you across the room and into the kitchen. 

She forced you down with her onto the cold tile, forming the perfect circle. 

You noticed Taehyun across from you and Beomgyu sitting to his left. 

Taehyun held an empty glass bottle in his hands as he whispered something into Beomgyu’s ear. 

You noticed immediately what the glass bottle was for, you looked up seeing Beomgyu was already staring at you. 

Fidgeting out of Joy’s arm you tried to stand up. But your best friend was way too quick, “No! Don’t leave me!”

“Leaving already, Y/L/N?” Taehyun asked, “We haven’t started the first round yet.” 

You looked around at everyone else, slowly sitting back down on the tile, “No, sorry.” 

You could feel the smile radiating off Beomgyu’s face as you tucked your legs underneath you. Oh what have you gotten yourself into?

Taehyun explained the rules of spin the bottle, except this game would be more interesting, instead of just kissing the person the bottle lands on, you’ll be shoved into a closet with them for ten minutes, leaving it open to the two on what they decide to do. 

The first round began, everyone taking turns going counterclockwise, each person one by one spun, found their make-out partner, hid in the closet, and came back ten minutes later. 

You noticed the disappointment on all the girls' faces when the bottle didn’t land on Beomgyu. You rolled your eyes in disgust but were secretly happy that the game didn’t start off with him, meaning he would be the last to spin. 

It was finally your turn to spin the bottle, you shakenly placed your hand on the cold glass. You closed your eyes as you spun it, terrified to open your eyes once you heard the bottle stop moving. 

The girls around you gasped and followed up with soft whispers to the ones around them. 

You slowly open your eyes, following the direction the bottle was pointing, seeing it stop in front of Beomgyu. 

Beomgyu looked just as surprised as you. He stared down at the bottle, slowly looking up to make eye contact with you. 

“Well then you two!” Taehyun clapped his hands, “Off you go!” 

The closet was a lot smaller than you hoped.

You both sit on opposite ends from each other. Backs against the wall. Your legs sat in between each other, it was the only comfortable way to sit in this small space. 

The only thing you both could do was stare at each other. You felt as if your heart was going to tear open your skin and bounce right out. 

“Well,” Beomgyu finally spoke the silence, “we have ten minutes so should we get to work on-“

You stopped him there, “Do not speak to me as if I am one of your girls.” 

He raised his eyebrows, letting out a soft laugh, “One of my girls?” 

You nodded, “Yeah, you literally have a different female every week, but never the same one.”

“So you admit to watching me then?” he titled his head, resting it against the wall. 

You bit your lip, not wanting to speak the truth but opening your mouth anyways, “Yes and so what? It’s hard to not notice when all I hear is giggling and when you keep your blinds open the entire time.” 

He smiled, checking the time on his phone, “we now have eight minutes.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I said stop treating me like one of your girls.”

“But you want to be one of them, don’t you?” 

Your body tingled at his words, your face flushing pink. Thanking whichever god was listening that the closet was dark enough to where he couldn’t see it. 

Quickly nodding, you answer, “Why on earth would I want to be?” 

“Because I can see it on your face, Y/N,” Beomgyu leans forward, wrapping his arms around his legs, “you’re not the only one watching.” 

You narrowed your eyes, “what does that even mean?” 

“I pay attention to you. I notice your body language when you see me with someone else. I noticed the look on your face the other night. You want me.” 

“Oh please, Beoms, we aren’t children.” 

He smiles at you, “I’ve missed you, you know that?” 

You scoffed at him, “Yeah? then why did you let us drift apart?” 

Beomgyu slid back onto the wall, “because I didn’t want to put you through any of this.” 

You raised a brow, “put me through what, Beomgyu?” 

He shook his head, his dark hair covering his eyes.

“I know what you feel for me.”

Your heart stopped. He knows you’re in love with him? You tried to play it off, “Beoms, that’s ridiculous.”

“Isn’t it?” he looked back up at you, “that you’ve loved me all these years and never said anything?” 

You broke eye contact with him, “how did you know?” 

He sighs, “You aren’t the only one who watches, remember?”

“Just say it, don’t beat around the bush.” 

“Because the way you look at me is the same way I look at you.” 

You sat forward, pulling your legs underneath you, “what?”

“Y/N, I have been in love with you since we were children. I noticed the way you would look at me, how happy you’d get when our parents let us play in the yard or go down to the park,” he shook his head, giving a half smile, “I didn’t realize how I felt until I sat outside one day after school, waiting for you to come out and then your mom noticing I was sitting in the yard and came to tell me you were sick.” 

You sat back, your heart aching. 

Beomgyu continued, “That’s when I realized I missed you, that I felt lonely without you there. That my heart pounded so fast when you recovered. I paid more attention to you, and as we grew older, the feelings grew deeper. I noticed the way you would look at me, and I realized that it was the same way I’d look at you.”

He let out a soft laugh, “It was insane how badly I fell for you, but obviously going into middle school, things changed. I got noticed by other girls, became friends with more people, I got into music…none of it is an excuse to push you away. But I saw the look on your face when the first girl to ever ask me out, the way it hurt you. I knew then I couldn’t bring you into this, I didn’t want you to be hurt by the attention.”

You stopped him, “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!?”

“I did not know how to, I let time slip between my fingers and before I knew it we were now seniors in high school and you’re sitting in front of me because of a stupid party game.” 

You shook your head, “You’re right, I want to be one of your girls, even if it was just for tonight. I got so nervous when I saw the bottle land on you, but I also saw it as fate because I might have been able to finally feel and have that part of you that the other girls have gotten…but…”

Beomgyu sat up, inching himself closer to you, your knees touching each other, “But what?”

You looked deeply into his mocha eyes, “I don’t want to just be one of your girls, Beoms. I want to be the main one.” 

Beomgyu rested his hand on your cheek, glazing his thumb over your skin, “can I kiss you?” 

You nodded, “Please.” 

His soft lips crashed onto yours. You kissed him back and leaned more into him, his hands softly gripping your hips. 

Your hands found their way into his hair, feeling how smooth it was, how soft it felt to play with your fingers. 

Beomgyu deepens the kiss, sending shock waves through your body, his hand sliding up and down your arms, your body tingling at his very touch. 

The knock on the door jolted the both of you away from each other. Your heart is in your throat, too scared to speak. 

“Time up for you two! It's been over ten minutes!” Taehyun’s voice came from the other side of the door. 

Beomgyu laughed, “What’s so funny?” you asked. 

“That we’ve both been pinning for each other this long.” 

You softly giggled, “Yeah it’s crazy,” you looked down at the carpeted floor.

“What’s wrong, love?” Beomgyu asked, taking your chin and lifting you to look at him, “talk to me.” 

“Why didn’t you ever date these girls?” 

“I did date a few, but it just never lasted and I vowed to just not date.” 

“But why?”

He smiled, “Because I was waiting for you.”

Another knock on the door. 

“Come on,” Beomgyu stood up, pulling you with him, “say we leave this party, ya? You hungry?”

You smiled up at him, nodding. 

Beomgyu took your hand in his, leading you out of the closet.

[veronicaphoenix]

To drown your sadness in a sea song. ⋆｡𖦹 °.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x mermaid!reader Parts: one - two - three - four - five - epilogue Trigger warnings: mental health issues; implied depression.

PART ONE — THE KISS | Words: 1.3k

He’s heard tales about creatures like her before. He’s certain his grandma used to read books about them to him as a child. Mermaids. He doesn’t remember much, though. He doesn’t know what to say or what to do. He just stares at her.

Her face is heart-shaped. She’s got long hair cascading over a bare torso. Her lips are thin and pink, her eyes vast and blue as the ocean itself. Tiny patches of shiny scales adorned her shoulders, chest, and wrists, while from the waist down, her legs are missing. Instead, a beautiful tail flaps against the water. 

She’s the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen. Not in a beautiful way, but in a mesmerizing sort of manner. He can’t keep his eyes of her, maybe because she’s also staring straight at him. 

They don’t say anything. 

Noah is here, in this secluded corner of the earth, a piece of land hidden from the rest of the world by towering rocks on the shoreline. Things hadn’t been good lately, and the whole ordeal going on with work and his colleagues has started to take a toll on him. 

The thoughts that haunted him the night before were unsettling and dangerous. They scared him and kept him awake. To avoid the story from repeating itself, today he left his house before those thoughts got the worst of him. 

He came down to this distant beach because they say that gazing at the vast expanse of the ocean puts life’s troubles into perspective and makes them seem insignificant. He’s not convinced about it, but the creature staring directly into his eyes has certainly seized his attention, and all he wants to do is to approach her, ask her why she’s there instead of traversing the ocean’s depths, and what sort of fascinating thing she’s seen in him that’s keeping her gaze fixed upon him.

The first thing he asks her is her name, but he gets no reply. 

Mermaids are known for their alluring voices and their melodious songs, however, under the moon’s gentle glow that first night, Noah realizes that this mermaid has no voice. He finds out because of the pained and disappointed expression that crossed her features each time he sought answers and each time she couldn’t provide.  

It’s painful to watch. A deep-seated desperation for something to go right courses through him.

As if sensing his distress, she splashes some water his way, just a few droplets to catch his attention again. This time, she has a little smile on her face, and it’s sweet and innocent. 

He decides he feels at peace merely looking at her, and if that’s what the sea has got to offer him, he will take it. 

It’s been ten minutes or maybe an hour. Noah is not sure, and he doesn’t care. He lets the minutes meld into hours. He doesn’t want to worry about time anymore. He knows once he’s back home and away from the ocean he will have to get back to the mundane; phone calls, meetings, a working schedule, and all that. But for now, while he’s here, with her, time doesn’t matter. They regard each other with the intensity of a summer storm. 

She disappears after a while.

The second time he meets her, she offers him something more than just her smile and company. 

She extends her arm out of the water, droplets cascading between her fingers, and Noah instinctively opens his palm out for her. When she drops the amulet, it’s the first time they touch. It’s merely the brush of her fingertips against the skin of his palm, but it’s enough for him to know that he wants more. 

 Looking at it, Noah feels grateful. In his hand lays a necklace. It’s just a piece of weathered thin rope, adorned with a glass pendant containing a miniature world: inside, there is a bit of the ocean, a few drops only, a sprinkle of sand, and a minuscule pearl. The weight of it is not much. All the same, he’s convinced he’s holding a treasure from the depths.  

When he looks up, she’s looking at it with a mesmerizing smile, content that even if she cannot offer him the gift of her voice, she could give him something else. 

There’s sweetness in her eyes. 

Yearning, too. 

He can guess enough by the look on her face: she wants to communicate with him, to tell him something. Yet, she cannot bring herself to, and the pain of it spreads through her delicate features as they stare at each other after he’s muttered a low ‘thank you’. 

She motions around her neck and then signals to him. Understanding her unspoken message, he hangs the necklace around his neck. Her expression shifts and she’s smiling again. It’s just a tiny smile but it will do for now. She sees him reciprocate the feeling, too, and that’s all she had hoped for tonight. 

 The young man is beautiful, and she wants to tell him. He’s goodhearted despite the thoughts that have been scarring his mind for the past weeks and she wants to acknowledge him that she can feel it. 

Instead, she can only offer him a place of her home in that precious necklace, hoping that he will understand that he’s worth the ocean. 

The third time he goes down to the beach it isn’t just to seek solace from the noise of the world. It’s also because he longs to see her. A voice in his head tells him he might be under an enchantment, some sort of bewitchment. She’s after all, a mythological creature, and he’s too mundane and too rational to believe this is real. Life is no magic tale, or is it? 

Maybe it’s all in his head. 

Maybe the sleepless night, the headaches, the arguments with his teammates, his dissatisfaction at the turn his life has taken has started to show its effects. Nevertheless, he wants to see her, if only one last time. 

She’s already waiting for him by the time he arrives, but she’s cautious. She’s perched behind a massive rock partially submerges. She peers at the descending path in anticipation of his arrival. The way they greet each other feels like they’ve reached home after a long journey.

Her tail gently flaps at the water as she rests her body on the shore, her forearms and palms laid on the sand, her long neck stretched towards him. 

Noah doesn’t stop. He takes off his shoes and socks, but he doesn’t bother rolling his jeans up.

He crouches down. The water laps at his feet, seeping into his clothes. The salt tang of the ocean fills his senses. She’s shining under the moonlight when he grasps her chin with his thumb and the bend of his index finger. 

Droplets of water rest on her eyelashes. There’s no fear in her eyes. Her lips are wet, and he dives right for them. 

He kisses her, his lips trapping her lower lip in a tender clasp. 

Worried that she might pull back, he’s taken by surprise when, instead, she presses her mouth harder against his and parts her lips a little to give him more access. It’s like diving into the depths of the ocean, tasting a bit of the world we know so little of. 

If the water touching his feet is cold, he cannot tell anymore. A shot of warmth is spreading through him as he moves his lips ever so slowly against hers. He would have loved to elicit a moan from her, some sound, but he knows by now that’s not going to happen, and he doesn’t let the disappointment take a hold of him. He relishes in the comfort of kissing the shiny creature in the water, thinking that if this is the respite the ocean has got for him, he’ll gladly take it.  

'PART TWO — THE BODY' COMING UP TOMORROW

Author's note: I'm aware I have tons of projects going on at the moment. I'm looking forward to complete The Unmaking of a Warrior & Into the Abyss of Bad Habits this month, but bear with me and my random ideas in the meantime 😶‍🌫️