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mv1simp · 8 months ago

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requested: max + best friend + somnophilia + cum marking

Unforgettable ♥️

Max Verstappen x Best Friend!Reader

if you loved the girl then I’m so so sorry (i got to give it to her like we in a marriage)

You and Max grew up as childhood best friends, secretly enamoured with each other but prohibited to openly date by both your strict fathers. But as adults, there’s nothing to stop the naughty desires you two have for each other finally leading to pleasurable activities. You just had no idea how naughty your Max’s desires for you had become as of late…

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dom! Dark max, sub! Innocent reader, size kink, dub con/non con elements, brief mentions of some teen max x reader being kinky, but mostly as adults, HEAVY on the somno!!, cum play/cum marking, WC 4.2k

You’ve known Max Verstappen your whole life. First as his childhood best friend, meeting through your fathers who both had a keen interest in racing. The young Max immediately became enamoured with how cute you looked grasping onto his sleeve to loyally follow him everywhere. He welcomed your constant support and cheering, a comfort to the cold discipline his own father gave him daily. You were the one source of happiness and positivity for him, with your sunshine smile and blushing cheeks as you oohed and ahhed at his track performance.

Your friendship continued easily through your teens, and then into adulthood, with you naturally moving to Monaco at his invitation. Just like you’d always done - with Max leading, and you obediently following. Of course, for a boy and a girl to be as close friends as the two of you were led to more than a few eyebrows being raised and curious questions asked, especially when Max’s career skyrocketed and he became one of the most famous athletes worldwide. But you both swear multiple times to your family, friends and the media - nothing of the romantic sort happened between the two of you, it was all completely platonic, just a healthy friendship. And that was the truth, because Max’s father had forbidden him from getting entangled with the little girl following him around as he had a racing career to focus on, and after that countless models to date - much more fitting for an F1 driver than some shy, girl next door type. And your strict, conservative father had raised you traditionally, sending you to an all girl’s high school and banning any boyfriends or dates of any sort. Max was in fact the only boy you were allowed to speak to, given how close your fathers were. But you weren’t to think about any boys until it was time to get married, your father had told you sternly. There’s too many bad men that would hurt my baby girl, he added with a ruffle of your dark curls.

Your father would have had a heart attack if he’d known that the teenage Max had already begun sneaking into your bedroom window nightly once you’d been sent to a different school than him. You’d found it so sweet that he misses you so much, saying that it wasn’t enough time to just see you on the weekends. Soon enough he’d end up falling asleep in your bed after you spent hours talking and reading racing magazines together, just like the sleepovers you two would occasionally have as toddlers when the adults had too much to drink.

You loved that Max would always be there for you, especially when you started having a hard time at your new school with a group of mean older girls. Max’s normally soft blue eyes had narrowed as you sadly mentioned how they’d made fun of you. He wiped the tears away at the corner of your eyes and assured you he’d help take care of it. You weren’t sure exactly what he’d done the next day when the group of girls all avoided eye contact and apologised to you publically, telling you they didn’t realise you were the girlfriend of Max Verstappen - who by now, was a international karting champion and set to join the junior Redbull team at only 16.

You’d blushed, trying to dismiss their belief of you being Max’s girlfriend that had started to become a frequent rumour these days. While it was true you’d always had a crush on the handsome blonde Dutchman, he’d never once shown you that he reciprocated your feelings, always just being a good friend to you. Like that evening when he jumped through your windowsill with familiar movements, waving off your grateful thanks and telling you it’s what best friends did for each other. Besides, you’re so tiny and cute, just like a bunny, it’s my job to look after you if I’m called the lion! He declared, alluding to your individual favourite childhood animals. Later, he curiously asked what the girls had actually teased you about, saying he’d forgotten to ask because he had been too angry with them. You blush a little, because you’re not sure if it’s too embarrassing to tell him as it’s a girl thing, Maxie…

He encourages you to tell him, insisting there were no secrets between the two of you, who’d practically known each other since birth. You couldn’t argue with that, and shyly tell him that it was because the older girls had seen you changing for sports class last week and had said you must have gotten a good surgeon with boobs like that. I-I don’t know what they mean, Maxie, you said with an anxious bite of your lip. Do they look weird?

Oh, Max had said, caught off guard, pretty blue eyes suddenly wide as they automatically drifted down to your clothed chest. Even through the pink camisole you’re wearing to bed, it’s hard to miss the way your new assets stretched the thin material to its limits. I’m sure they look nice, bunny. But I - his cheeks go pink - I can look at them properly if you want?

Your brown doe eyes go starry eyed and you nod happily at his offer. Will you, Maxie? Thank you so much! It’s so kind of you. Beaming up at your friend, you thank him again for his thoughtful offer as you lift the singlet above your breasts. You don’t really have any other friends to show them too, because you spend all your spare time with the Dutch boy, and your mother is also too strict like your father to talk about your teenage troubles with. You’d be lost without Max!

The blonde teen in question swallows as he intently looks at your bare chest, now exposed for him. The night breeze stiffens your nipples, making them stick out against your caramel skin. They’re very pretty, schatje, he finally says, his voice sounding a strange and deeper than normal, after he stares at them so long you start to get worried that there had been something wrong, after all. You tell him this, to which he reassures you soothingly, but you’re still on edge. What if my future boyfriend doesn’t like them, Maxie? Your best friend’s eyes darken suddenly at the mention of some other boy seeing your body in a way only he had been allowed to so far. You're a little taken aback at the unfamiliar, cold expression on his normally warm face, but then you blink and he's back to his blushing self, eagerly showering you with his reassurances because he never wants you to doubt how perfect he thinks you are.

So that’s why, now as adults living in his Monaco penthouse, Max makes it his personal mission to make sure you know how beautiful you are. Your conservative parents have no idea that you live together, of course - they still think you live in the quaint 1 bedroom apartment a few minutes away from your university campus. But your modest apartment had mysteriously been shut down by the Housing Council of Monaco, who’d told you there had been a termite infestation and you were indefinitely out of a place to live. You’d been puzzled why your apartment was the only one on your floor that seemed to be affected by something so contagious - but when Max generously offered to ease all your financial troubles and let you crash in his guest bedroom, you gratefully accepted. You’d never told your strict parents about the move, of course, since it was only meant to be temporary and they’d kick up a fuss over nothing.

You were so thankful to your best friend, and made sure to always clean up around the house and bake his favourite treats to repay him in some way. Max’s favourite way to destress after a long day is to cuddle against you on the sofa, burying his face in your pillowy, soft chest as you giggle and run a comforting hand through his blonde locks. He complains about drama with his team and car this season, husky voice muffled against your clothed breasts. The low vibrations would make you involuntarily shiver and he’d always know when you were wearing a bra, because he wouldn’t be able to see your tempting nipples through your top. Schatje, he’d say sternly with a disapproving glare, yanking your pastel cardigan up and revealing a cute, lacy bralette. We talked about this, it restricts your circulation, it’s not healthy to wear a bra at home too, hmm? You apologise sweetly, pouting and telling him that you were sorry, it was just you’d had to wear one for your university tutorial earlier and sometimes your back really starts hurting if your bra isn’t supporting the weight of your chest…

Hmm, let’s see how we can fix that, okay bunny? He lifts you to sit in his lap, your back to his toned abs, and your underwear coming into direct contact with his jeans underneath your miniskirt. Sliding his large, strong hands over your smaller waist, he makes you gasp as he unclasps your bra and starts gently squeezing your bare breasts. The soft flesh fills his palms, and you shyly ask him what he was doing, he didn't have to trouble himself helping you. When he shushes you, reassuring you that he was just massaging the tension and pain out of your tits, see, doesn’t that feel good schat? You find yourself nodding, leaning back against his broad chest because and biting your lip because it did feel amazing. You didn’t know that being touched there would make you feel dirty things someplace else, like in the place between your legs that begins to feel warm and tingly. Especially when Max would roll your nipples in between his large fingers, or when he’d press his tongue in between your bare tits and lick at your caramel skin. You couldn’t resist arching your back into his talented mouth when he latched onto your areolas, unable to control the breathless moans that escaped. You were seriously so lucky to have a friend who took your comfort and health so seriously!

Of course, you were clueless that Max had taken the boundaries well beyond what would be considered acceptable for any other friendship. You still barely had any friends outside of Max - especially since your friendship with him kept you so busy, flying around the world with him constantly. But everything you two did felt so natural, like a progression of how you’d looked after each other other as kids, that you never felt weird or uncomfortable. You only ever felt good with Maxie. That was also why you’d always call him first when you were on a night out and had gotten a bit too tipsy - you didn’t trust anyone else to look after you. Max had warned you, just like your father had, about all the bad men who were out and would hurt you. He very rarely let you go out without him for this very reason.

But when you would, for a girlfriend’s birthday dinner or the other, he’d be the one to drive you home and carry you up to the apartment. He’d smirk at your drunk antics, where you’d whine it was too damn hot and start sloppily tearing off your cute, sweetheart minidresses. He loved when you got like this, obediently crawling into bed with him in scraps of lace, when normally sober you put up a fuss that only a couple slept like that, it was wrong, his girlfriend wouldn’t like this! Pulling your pliant form into his warm chest, he’s pressing kisses to your forehead before sliding his tongue into your open, pink mouth. You kiss him back passionately, breathlessly chanting his name, contently lost in how nice his lips feel. You loved the familiar feeling of Max’s arms around you, always making you feel safe and protected. And when his large, strong palms run up and down your sensitive body, sending electric shivers running when his bare skin touches yours, you can’t help but moan sweetly into his mouth. Mmmhh, feels good, Maxie you slur, eyes fluttering shut and thick ass grinding back against his clothed bulge, before you fall asleep from his slow, rhythmic movements as he explores your tired body.

Secretly, not that you’d ever admit it, you knew there was something a little naughty with the way he touched you. You’d watched enviously through cracked doors when he’d touched his girlfriends in the same way, hating when his attention was on some other girl and not on you. But you could never ask him sober to take care of you like that, not when you were sure he thought of you like a friend. So you frequently started to get a bit too tipsy out on a night out, knowing it was much easier to cross the line of friendship into something more when you could blame it all on the tequila. And your Maxie would never turn down a chance to reciprocate your touchiness - his love language was physical touch, after all!

You had no idea that after you'd fall asleep, your precious Maxie’s fun really began, every night that he managed to bring you into his Californian King. If you hadn’t been so naive you would know it was far from normal for a guy friend to climb into bed with his drunk girl friend, who was wearing nothing but some white lacy lingerie underneath her clubbing dress that's abandoned on the floor. Lingerie which he now pulls to the side as he squeezes your juicy tits and lightly fingers the entrance of your pussy. His dark, hungry gaze rake over your tempting form, taking in your curves that have now filled out. He lazily jerks himself off to the pretty little thing passed out in his bed, peppering kisses to your chubby cheeks, your delicate neck, and to your plush breasts which bounce with each sleepy breath you take.

And once your breaths turn heavy and slow when deep sleep claims you, there’s nothing stopping him from slipping his angry, leaking cockhead out and sliding it along your puffy folds. You unknowingly drip your wetness all over his shaft as he groans into your ear, his breath warm as he pants desperately above your peacefully sleeping face. Sometimes he can’t resist and slips just the tip into your tight little hole, the one you still thought was untouched by anyone.

You’d probably die if you knew the truth - that your cunt had in fact been abused many times by your best friend. Max regularly enjoyed teasing your puffy slit with his fingers, his tongue and of course his cockhead- all while you lay blissfully sleeping next to him. He’d take any chance he could, no matter how risky. One time you’d passed out on Max’s lap aboard his private jet, exhausted from the day at a boiling hot Qatar race. He’d stroked your curls lovingly, murmuring sweet nothings to you until you were in a deep sleep on his thick muscular thighs, even drooling a little onto his jeans. All he’d had to do was dim the cabin lights and half cover your face with a blanket under the guise of not disturbing you if anyone walked past.

Nobody would have been able to guess that underneath the privacy of the blanket, Max Verstappen was slowly sliding his aching, fat cock into your wet mouth. You’d instinctively started suckling on it like a lollipop, making him chuckle at what a natural slut you were for him. Grabbing a hold of your curls, he’d easily manoeuvred your soft, pliant lips up and down his shaft, enjoying the drool you left all over his warm length. Breathing heavier, his movements quickened and his thrusts became shallower until he finally goes still, tensing in your mouth and spurting ribbons of his cream down your throat. You’d slept straight through the dinner service, after all. Afterwards, you’d woken up with sticky lips and an unfamiliar taste on your tongue, dazedly blinking up at Max who was playing on his phone above your sleeping figure on his lap. Good nap, schatje? he croons adoringly at you, brushing your hair lovingly when he sees you’d awakened. You’d nodded happily, feeling content and secure in his hold.

Lately, sneaking around while you were asleep hadn’t been enough for the world champion. He wanted you all to himself, all the time. His new tactic involved making sure you knew that his latest girlfriend - or his model "pump and dump of the month" as his guy friends joked - had broken up with him. All because she’d heard you had climbed into bed with him naked, tipsy after a night out, Max would declare to your with a dramatic sigh. Or she’d found your lacy underwear mixed in with Max’s laundry, and had accused him of cheating before storming out. He wondered what his exes would have done if they found out the lacy things he’d had lying around were actually due to his dirty habit as a teen of stealing your underwear to sniff and guiltily keep in his stash. It was a twisted desire he hadn’t grown out of as an adult, instead just finding your new panties sexier and enjoying ruining them with his cum now. Some nights, when he was feeling particularly possessive of you, he’d pull one lacy side up to slide his length underneath, now rubbing his drooling cockhead against the juicy swell of your ass. One night he’d even just slipped your panties all the way off, jerked off slowly to them as his other hand explored your pliant body greedily, making you gasp breathlessly when he buried his face in between your jiggling tits and gently bit your cute nipples. After cumming a thick load into the pink lacey fabric, he then slid the ruined panties back over your curvy ass. You’d remained completely clueless to your best friend’s filthy nighttime acts in your bed, blissfully dreaming.

So after telling you that you must have left your panties in his bed the last time you passed out there drunk, and made his girlfriend angry, Max would sigh, rubbing his head and making sure to out on a grand show of looking tired and weary as he fed you some new lie about how you were the reason his girlfriends had called it quits.

You’d anxiously comfort him, your doe eyes worried as you studied his tense figure. Just like he’d hoped, you couldn’t resist offering to help him in any way he needed - including taking over any bedroom activities his girlfriends had been performing for him, if he wanted. You weren’t very good, because you still had never had a boyfriend…but you promised to try your best to do it just how Max liked it. After all, that’s what good friends were for, right?

So that’s why you obediently wake him up every morning with your lips on his heavy morning wood. All of his girlfriends woke him up like this, Max insisted, otherwise his balls would be too full for him to go to driving practise comfortably. And since he loved to sleep in late ever day, you had no choice but to miss your morning lectures. Instead of getting the college education you’d promised your parents, you’re worshipping your best friend’s large cock with eager strokes of your hand and wet licks of your tongue, following his instructions. You hadn’t liked going near the base, to his heavy balls at the start, finding them uncomfortable to fit in your small mouth. Max had noticed your dislike for then very quickly and soon kept a strong grip on your curls, pressing your thick lips into his morning wood to make sure you blew him just how he wanted it.

After your daily breakfast of Max’s thick cream down your throat, you two would shower together, just like he liked doing with all his ex girlfriends. This part you did know about, having come home early one day and overhearing Max fucking his latest up against the shower wall. You’d never imagine that one day you’d be getting to replace her, gasping out ah ah ahs! as Max rubbed his drooling, angry cockhead against your slick folds. You bite your lip as you dirtily fantasise about your tall, muscular best friend behind you forcing his way into your cunny. Just a little bit, of course, maybe just the tip, you dreamily thought.

Max had always been good at knowing what you wanted without you asking, given how long he'd known you. So he gives you exactly what you'd been naughtily thinking about, "accidentally" sliding his impossibly hard head into your dripping folds when he reached forward to adjust the already perfect water temperature. You squeal in shock, quickly trying to turn around and see what he was doing, but you're no match for his strength. Max's strong hands pin your thick hips in place as his much taller frame presses into you from behind, his lips brushing your ear to whisper dirty things and making your brain go foggy. Hearing your beloved Maxie huskily groan that your ass felt amazing, like it was built to take my cock, bunny made your heart beat rapidly in excitement. You didn't even notice that he'd bullied a good third of his massive erection into your clenching pussy, or when he came with a desperate groan, his face buried in your neck from behind. The warm shower water mixed with his creamy release and leaving you none the wiser about what he'd just pumped inside your virgin hole.

And little, naive you had no idea just how many times your possessive best friend had exposed your defenceless body to his thick cream. The twisted idea of training your holes to always welcome his, and only his cum, filled Max’s head with dark pleasure. He wanted to leave you begging and desperate for his release, even though you would have no idea just how or why you’d ended up developing such a craving for it. That was why he always made sure to touch and play with your over sensitive body, especially your cute, swollen clit and pretty nipples. Both because he loved feeling you up like you belonged to him, and because when he’d inevitably spurt his cum through your drooling, open mouth as you softly snore against his pillows. Your sleepy brain began to subconsciously associate the unfamiliar taste with delicious, tingly pleasure.

And if you’d make him mad when you spent too long talking to one of the other guys in his garage, instead of diligently at his side, he took his training of you to the next level. That meant cumming all over a batch of freshly baked and frosted white chocolate and rasberry cupcakes - your favourite! You always clapped your manicured hands in excitement when Max would pick up a box for you. They taste so good, you moaned as you eagerly dug into a second one, licking the white sticky frosting messily off your fingers. Even better than I remember!

The blonde Dutchman who’s eyeing you with a pleased smirk couldn’t stop the growing desire in his belly at the sight of you taking so much pleasure at eating his cum. So once he started this dirty habit of feeding you his release, he didn’t stop there - he was never one for half measures. He’d only have to close his eyes and picture your sleeping body, thin camisole mentally pulled up by his wandering hands to reveal your large tits. It’s a sight he’s been getting to enjoy almost nightly now, but it hasn’t stopped getting any less tempting. He easily spurts a generous load in a container of your favourite flavours of creamy vanilla ice cream. Slipping the box back into the freezer, he smirks to himself at the thought of getting to enjoy the sight of you licking it up off a spoon after dinner.

You've always had a major sweet tooth, and now that Max has started mixing his cum into your beloved desserts and sugary treats, you begin to associate his heady taste even more with raw desire. You start getting the same pleasurable high from deepthroating him as you do sucking on a strawberry lollipop. And your best friend just can't get enough of how addicted you've become to having his intoxicating, thick cum flood your mouth. So much so that you’re eager to fall to your knees to greet Max when you come home from class, obediently sucking his impressive cock as you show off your topless figure. And when you can tell he’s close, from how his handsome face is all flushed and he’s biting his pretty lips and murmuring fuck, schatje, it’s so fucking good, just like that-

You open your glossy lips wide, pink tongue poking out and brown doe eyes batting up at the huge cock in front of you adoringly. The sight of you so innocent yet desperate for him never fails to make Max cum, and with a few rapid pumps he finishes with a groan. His drooling, swollen cockhead is aimed right at your eagerly awaiting mouth, and soon his excessive load covers your tongue and drools past the corner of your lips as you struggle to contain it all in your small mouth. Splatters of white semen land on your chubby cheeks and drip down to your plush, caramel tits as well.

Just the taste of it has your eyes rolling and breath hitching, the months of subconscious training having done the job of making you addicted to Max’s cock very well. You swallow it all like the good girl you are, not letting any of his cum go to waste. And when you drop your mouth open again invitingly, shyly saying look Maxie, I drank it all as you display your now clean tongue - well, how is he meant to resist stuffing your tight little cunt next?

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A/N: CANNOT BELIEVE OUR MANS WON BRAZIL WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT FOR THE LATINA FANS ya’ll manifested the FUCK out of this. I have heard you all with your celebration sex requests and I am HERE for it stay tuned!!! 🧙‍♀️🧙‍♀️

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #18+ mdni #dark max verstappen #dark smut

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inbabylontheywept · 3 months ago

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we need to get you on Man Vs. Food. (The show)

Massive piles of food have nothing on the one who can eat massive piles of raw ingredients

Back when I was in scouts, our group participated in a mini-triathalon every year. I think it was a half mile swim, then 10 miles on bike, then 5 miles running. So waaaaaaay less intense than a normal triathlon, but still a pretty brutal experience. If I tried to do that today, I would have an extremely bad time.

Traditionally, the night before the triathlon we'd all go to a Golden Corral in the city and eat a few steaks before hand. For funsies. But we arrived late at night that year, and the Golden Corral was closed, so we tried to find a 24 hour buffet, and the only one we could fine was for Chinese food. It had a name like "Jiangs All You Can Eat Spicy Chinese Food."

We went. It was some of the most incredible Chinese food I've ever eaten. I'd only ever had Panda express Americanized Chinese food before, and this was, like, genuine Sichuan stuff in apocalyptic quantities.

So we ate, and we ate, and we ate, and we ate, right until our our entire faces went numb from the spicy, and then at the end, just to polish things off, me and another scout that we'll call Scrapper went and got a plate full of crab rangoons. I think we could fit 5 of them on the plate, by placing them kind of like the dots on a dice.

We were talking on the walk back, when Scrapper said you know, it would be kind of a bad idea to have a full on crab rangoon eating contest like, 4 hours before the race.

(At that point, it was midnight, and the race was at 4 am.)

And I said: Yeah.

Then we walked a little further. And he said: You wanna do it anyway?

My fatal flaw is that I have never met a bad idea I didn't like. Of course I went in. I wouldn't be me if I didn't. I'd say before the contest even started, he ate around 8 plates, and I ate around 6, but when it came to the Crab Rangoon battle, I downed 6 plates (approximatel 30), and he gave up after 5 (approximately 25). So he won on total plateage, but I won on pure rangoon volume. Total amount of rangoons eaten was like, 55 rangoons. Two more and I think I would've been a viable candidate for narcan.

We joked that we'd added a fourth event to the Triathalon: The Crab Rangoon-a-thon.

We later (approximately 4 hours and 15 minutes later) learned that we'd actually added two events to the triathalon. The Crab Rangoon-a-thon, and the who-can-poop-the-fastest chase. There were porta potties set up between every event change, so as soon as we finished, me and Scrapper would bolt to the potties, and if there were sounds of Great Suffering happening in one stall, we'd occupy the one next to it to that one and assume it held the other person. Then we could try and match pace. If we arrived and it was silent, we'd assume that we beat the other out prepare for single combat, knowing we only had a minute or two to set up camp before Terrible Noises would begin next to us.

There were more than two porta-potties between stations, but I think everyone else kind of avoided using them because we sounded so insane. We'd make noises of Godly Anguish, then, you know. Fart. Then we'd laugh. Then we'd scream like wounded animals again as the next convolusion hit us. I've never had poops like that before or since. They folded me in half like a frightened lobster. I'd feel a surge, and then I'd feel this terrible pressure againt my chest, and it would take me thirty seconds to realize it was my own knees. I pooped so hard I pulled my back. I feel lucky to be alive.

Scrapper did wind up beating me by like. 20 seconds though. He skipped the bathroom for the last run and just kind of pain-waddled those five miles, and I just couldn't catch up. It was 13 years ago and I am still devastated. He did soil himself though, right after the race. So. At least I made him pay dearly for the win.

Anyway, yeah, I bet could dominate in a show like that. Sign me up.

#babylon-lore #again #i guess #yip yop #scouting #yeah this is what scouts is like #when it goes right

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astars-things · 2 months ago

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It'll be fun they said?

Lando Norris x reader

summary- where Lando and you film 'I Ate and Trained Like Lando Norris for 24 Hours' and it turned into a mess

1.5k words

Part two here

Lando and a few of the other Quadrant members had been quietly planning this for weeks. With the chaos of Lando's F1 schedule, races, media obligations, and simulator sessions, they had to coordinate dates, group chats filled with calendars, and more than one reschedule. But somehow, everything had finally aligned. Today was the day.

You and Lando had gotten up early to make sure the apartment was clean and camera-ready, everything that was not meant for the public was hidden anything remotely embarrassing was swiftly shoved into closets or under the bed. Lando double-checked that the interview area was up to his standards, and every helmet was precisely aligned on the shelf behind the chair

Once the apartment was up to standard, you retreated back to bed. You were never up this early, you loved your sleep too much. You flopped onto the duvet, thumb scrolling through TikTok, ignoring the growing murmur of voices drifting in from the living room. You really didn't want to be in the video because you knew how many comments would be about you and people hating on you for the smallest things

Lando had poked his head into the bedroom "You okay in here?" Lando said from the doorway of your room, "Yeah", you muttered back, putting on a hoodie over the top of your sports bra and leggings. You added some socks, not particularly keen on your bare feet making an appearance on camera. Lando held out his hand for you, interlocking your fingers and making your way to the kitchen

You said hello to everyone, giving both Ethan and Morgan a quick side hug before naturally drifting back to Lando’s side. He was already in host mode, grinning as he reached into the fridge. "So on today’s menu is apple cinnamon with pecan overnight oats," Lando said, reaching into the fridge and getting out three containers. Ethan eyed the mush with genuine concern. "Mate, that looks like you ate breakfast and then threw it up." The group fell into conversation while you cut up some fruit and added it to a bowl of yogurt

Once everyone had eaten breakfast or at least tried to, the video cut to the boys in the workout room. Cameras were repositioned, mics were adjusted, and the guys got ready to sweat. You stood off to the side, out of frame but close enough to help if needed, arms crossed and a faint smile tugging at your lips. "Normally, there are a few bands in here, they might be in our bedroom", Lando muttered. The last bit, both Ethan and Morgan looked at you as your face went slightly red

"You dirty bastards", Morgan said as he looked over at you. You shook your head. Soon, Lando returned with the band hanging loosely around his shoulders. he showed the boys how to do a pushup and then judged both of their forms.

"Okay, now we are going to hop into neck training", Lando said with way too much excitement. Both boys looked at him like he was insane. Lando first showed them how to sit on the bench and where to hold. Ethan was up first, and he was scared "You guys wanted to do this video", you said as you saw Ethan shaking as Lando pulled on his neck

After about 10 minutes, it was Morgan's turn. "This better not pop my head off," Morgan muttered, settling into position. "You’ll be fine," Lando assured him, grinning as he fastened the strap around Morgan’s forehead. "You’ve got a thick skull anyway." Morgan groaned dramatically. "If I wake up tomorrow and can’t move my neck, I’m suing all of you",

"Your turn now, Lando ", Ethan said while sitting on the floor rolling his neck. You had helped land multiple times with his neck training, so once Lando was set up and ready, you held the handle and slightly pulled to create some tension, and then you pulled

"Bro you neck is so vainy almost looks like my dick" Ethan commented which made all of you burst out into the laughter, Lando let out a sharp, surprised bark of laughter, the strap snapping off his head as he broke form completely. Even Morgan, who’d just been dreading his turn, was wheezing in the corner.

While everyone was in the living room waiting for Lando to be ready for the cryotherapy bit of the video, you and Lando were in the hallway near your shared room, Lando had tried talking you into going to cryotherapy, but you kindly declined that offer real quick, something about standing in a freezing cold room, with just a bikini on, and people watching you made you feel anxious.

"But you said you would film with us", Lando pouted, but you just shook your head. "I already told you no, that I would join in for breakfast and the workout, but nothing more. I have work I need to do, plus it's not something I feel comfortable doing" You said in a low tone, making sure nobody could hear you guys having a disagreement

"No one’s gonna be filming you like that," he said under his breath. "It’s part of the video. It’s fun." He added while trying to bring you into a hug

You glanced around to make sure the crew wasn’t in earshot before you answered, your tone low but firm. "Maybe it’s fun for you. For me, it’s anxiety. I don’t like the idea of being in that kind of vulnerable position, especially not on camera. I’m not asking you to understand it, just respect it." For a second, it looked like he might push again. But then his lips pressed into a thin line, and he looked away.

"Yeah, fine, whatever", Lando snapped and walked away, rejoining the group. You heard him grab his keys, and everyone followed. You could hear Ethan asking about you and Lando replying with Don't worry. The door shut behind them, and the apartment fell into a silence so complete it made your ears ring.

You felt off, like you were letting Lando down. With a deep breath, you made your way into the home office you had set up in Landos' streaming room. You sank down onto your chair, opening your laptop and replying to emails. You were so focused on your emails, you didn't realize the time, and suddenly the front door opened and the apartment was filled with chaos again.

You tried to drown out the noise and focused on your work, but soon you heard footsteps approaching. Then a knock, quick, but not really waiting for permission. "Hey," Lando said, already halfway through the door. "I need the room. We’re setting up the simulator bit now."

You paused, blinking at him. "Can I just finish this?" you said, pointing at your screen where you had multiple tabs open. "I told you we were using the room today," he said, his tone clipped and impatient. "Just for a bit. I need it."

You stared at him, the words hitting harder than they should have. You’d built that little corner for yourself, made space in his world without asking for much. And now, you felt like a guest in your own home. "Fine," you murmured, too tired to argue. You shut your laptop, gathered your charger, and made your way to your bedroom, silent, but not unnoticed.

You sat on the edge of the bed and reopened your laptop, trying to settle back into work, but the energy was gone. You saved all your work before opening up Netflix and putting on one of your comfort shows and lying down. About 20 minutes into the show, your bedroom door opened "The boys are leaving for their surprise, if you want to say goodbye to them", Lando said in a harsh tone

You sat up and quickly walked out of the room to find Morgan, Ethan and the camera crew standing by the front door "Hope you boys had fun," you said quickly, now in a more anxious bubble where you now felt closer to an anxiety attack. You stood next to Lando, waving goodbye as they walked out of the apartment,

As soon as the front door closed you hurried back to the comfort of your room, Lando followed and tried pulling you into a hug "fuck off" You snap now your hands were shaking and you knew in less than 5 seconds you were about to go into anxiety attack "gladly" Lando said walking away to his streaming room, all you could do was sit on the floor of your room and cry while Lando was gaming with Max...

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#lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #quadrant #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris imagine #mclaren #imagines

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ghstyles · 29 days ago

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Birthday Girl | H.S

Friendrry | Fluff | One shot | Fine line Harry | Masterlist

a/n: It's my birthday, therefore, it's also Y/N's birthday. Hopefully I'm not stood up like her

· · ─────────── ·H.S· ────────── · ·

The restaurant is upscale without being pretentious, exactly the type of place where a group of twenty-somethings might gather for a special occasion without completely emptying their bank accounts. Soft lighting casts a warm glow over polished wood tables and leather booths, while ambient music plays at a volume that allows for easy conversation.

Y/N sits alone at a large table set for twelve, feeling increasingly conspicuous as the minutes tick by. The birthday headband she'd bought on a whim, silver with "Birthday Girl" spelled out in glittering letters, is stuffed into her bag, her initial enthusiasm for wearing it having evaporated around the fifteen-minute mark of sitting alone.

She checks her phone again, scrolling through the mounting collection of last-minute cancellations and excuses. Work emergencies, sudden illnesses, family obligations, all perfectly reasonable individually, but collectively forming a pattern that's impossible to ignore. A few haven't even bothered to text, their silence speaking volumes.

The waitress approaches for the third time, her sympathetic smile barely masking her pity.

"Are you still waiting for the rest of your party?" she asks gently.

Y/N forces a smile, though it feels brittle on her face. "Just a few more minutes, if that's okay. I'm sure they're just running late."

The waitress nods, clearly not believing it any more than Y/N does, but kindly playing along. "No problem. Can I get you another drink while you wait?"

"Please," Y/N agrees, sliding her half-empty cocktail glass toward the edge of the table. "A stronger one this time, if you don't mind."

As the waitress retreats, Y/N slumps slightly in her chair, the carefully applied makeup and styled hair suddenly feeling like wasted effort. She'd been so excited about tonight, her twenty-fifth birthday, surrounded by friends in a nice restaurant, maybe even making a better impression on Harry Styles if he actually showed up (which he clearly wasn't going to).

It had been impulsive, adding him to the invite list. They weren't really friends, more like friendly acquaintances who shared a social circle. They'd met a handful of times at parties and gatherings, exchanged pleasant conversation, laughed at the same jokes. Nothing special, except for the way her heart seemed to beat a little faster whenever he walked into a room, or how she found herself paying more attention when he spoke.

But that was normal, wasn't it? He was Harry Styles, after all. Harry Styles. Everyone reacted that way to him.

Still, she'd sent the text invitation, trying to sound casual: Having a birthday dinner on Friday. Nothing fancy, just food and friends. You're welcome to join if you're around.

He hadn't responded, which wasn't surprising. He was probably on tour, or in a studio, or on a yacht somewhere with a supermodel. The invitation had been a shot in the dark, nothing more.

The waitress returns with a significantly stronger cocktail, setting it down with another sympathetic smile. Y/N thanks her and takes a long sip, the alcohol burning pleasantly down her throat.

Thirty-five minutes now. This is officially pathetic.

She reaches for her bag, ready to settle the bill for her drinks and slink home to salvage what remains of her dignity, when the restaurant's front door bursts open with enough force to draw every eye in the place.

Harry Styles stands in the doorway, slightly out of breath, his hair wild as if he's been running his hands through it repeatedly. He's wearing black jeans and a partially unbuttoned silky shirt in a shade of blue that makes his eyes look even more vibrant than usual. Most strikingly, his face is covered in what appears to be remnants of glitter and stage makeup, as if he's come straight from some kind of photoshoot or performance without taking time to clean up.

For a moment, Y/N thinks she must be hallucinating, perhaps the second, stronger drink was a mistake on an empty stomach. But then Harry's eyes lock with hers across the restaurant, and his face breaks into a relieved smile that sends her heart into an irregular rhythm.

"Y/N!" he calls out, loud enough to draw more stares as he weaves through tables toward her. "Thank god you're still here. I'm so, so sorry I'm late."

He reaches her table, slightly breathless, and Y/N can only stare up at him in shock, her planned departure forgotten.

"Harry?" she manages, her voice embarrassingly small. "You...came?"

"Of course I came," he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He pulls out the chair next to hers and sits down, leaning toward her with an earnest expression. "I'm really sorry I didn't respond to your text. I wasn’t sure what time the photoshoot was and didn’t want to say yes and then bail the day of."

Y/N is still trying to process the fact that Harry Styles is sitting at her birthday dinner, apologizing to her as if his presence was expected, even guaranteed.

"But...how did you know where to come? And when?" she asks, confusion evident in her voice.

Harry's expression softens, a slight blush coloring his cheeks beneath the remnants of makeup. "I, uh, asked Mia for the details when I saw her last week. After I got your text." He runs a hand through his already disheveled hair, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "I meant to reply, I really did. But then I got busy with work, and...well, I'm here now."

He glances around the table, his brow furrowing as he takes in the empty chairs and untouched place settings.

"Where is everyone else? Mia, Zack, the others?"

Y/N feels a fresh wave of humiliation wash over her. It's one thing to be stood up by all her friends; it's another to have Harry Styles witness it.

"They, um, couldn't make it," she says, aiming for casual but landing somewhere closer to mortified. "Last-minute things came up."

Harry's expression shifts, confusion giving way to understanding and then, surprisingly, anger. His jaw tightens, a muscle working in his cheek as he glances around the empty table again.

"All of them?" he asks, his voice low and controlled. "Every single person had something 'come up' on the same night?"

Y/N shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant despite the lump forming in her throat. "It happens. People are busy."

"No," Harry says firmly, a hardness in his tone that Y/N has never heard from him before. "No, that's not okay. It's your birthday, Y/N. They RSVP'd, yeah? They committed to being here?"

Y/N nods reluctantly, not meeting his eyes. "Most of them, yeah. But honestly, it's fine. I was just about to head home anyway."

"Absolutely not," Harry declares, his tone brooking no argument as he settles more firmly into his chair. "It's your birthday dinner, and we're going to have a proper celebration."

Before Y/N can protest, Harry flags down the waitress who's been hovering nearby, clearly curious about the unexpected arrival of a pop star at her station.

"Hi there," Harry greets her with his signature charm, his earlier anger carefully masked behind a warm smile. "We're ready to order now. Just the two of us."

The waitress, whose nametag reads 'Sophie', blinks rapidly, visibly star-struck but maintaining her professionalism. "Of course, sir. Would you like to hear the specials?"

As Sophie recites the day's offerings, Harry turns to Y/N with a conspiratorial smile. "What are you hungry for, birthday girl? Order anything you want. It's on me tonight."

Y/N shakes her head, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "Harry, you don't have to do this. Really, I understand if you want to leave."

Harry's expression softens, his green eyes holding hers steadily. "I don't want to leave, Y/N. I want to celebrate your birthday with you. If you'll let me."

There's something in his gaze, a sincerity, a warmth, that makes Y/N's protests die on her lips. She nods slowly, a small, genuine smile finally finding its way to her face.

"Okay," she agrees softly. "Thank you."

Harry's answering smile is brilliant, lighting up his entire face. "Brilliant. Now, what shall we order? I'm starving."

They place their orders, Y/N choosing her favorite pasta dish, Harry opting for the steak, and settle into conversation that starts slightly awkward but quickly becomes surprisingly easy. Harry asks about her job , her family, her plans for the future, listening with genuine interest to her answers. In turn, he shares stories from his recent tour and the photoshoot he just came from.

"That explains the..." Y/N gestures vaguely at his face, where flecks of glitter still catch the light when he moves.

Harry laughs, rubbing at his cheek and examining the sparkly residue on his fingers. "Yeah, sorry about that. They had me in full makeup and glitter for this avant-garde fashion spread. I tried to clean up before leaving, but they were taking forever, and I was already so late..."

He trails off, looking suddenly shy. "I didn't want to miss your birthday entirely."

The simple admission sends a flutter through Y/N's chest that she tries desperately to ignore.

"Well, you look good with glitter," she offers, then immediately feels her cheeks heat at the compliment. "I mean, it suits you. The whole rock star aesthetic."

Harry's dimple appears as he grins at her, clearly pleased by her flustered state. "Thanks. Though I'm more partial to a classic suit these days."

Their food arrives, momentarily pausing the conversation as they arrange plates and napkins. As Y/N reaches for her water glass, Harry suddenly snaps his fingers, as if remembering something.

"Oh! I almost forgot." He reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket, which he'd draped over the back of his chair, and pulls out a small, neatly wrapped package. "Happy birthday, Y/N."

Y/N stares at the gift, surprised and touched that he'd thought to bring something. "Harry, you didn't have to get me anything."

"I wanted to," he says simply, pushing the package toward her. "It's nothing fancy, just something small I thought you might like."

With slightly trembling fingers, Y/N unwraps the package to reveal a delicate silver bookmark. The top of it is shaped like a crescent moon, with tiny stars dangling from fine chains attached to it. It's beautiful in its simplicity, clearly chosen with thought rather than expense in mind.

"I remembered you mentioning how much you love reading," Harry explains, watching her face carefully for her reaction. "And how you hate dog-earing pages. Thought this might be useful."

Y/N runs her finger over the smooth silver, deeply touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift. It shows that he's actually paid attention to things she's said in their brief interactions, that he's remembered details about her that most people wouldn't.

"It's perfect," she says softly, looking up to meet his eyes with a genuine smile. "Thank you, Harry. I love it."

His answering smile is warm, relief evident in his expression. "I'm glad. Now, " he glances toward her bag, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "I’m pretty sure that is supposed to go on your head. What’s it doing in your bag?"

Y/N groans, covering her face with her hands. "No way. I'm not wearing that thing. It was silly enough when I thought I'd be with a group of friends, but in public, with just us? Absolutely not."

"Come on," Harry coaxes, his voice taking on a playful wheedling quality. "It's your birthday! You should wear the headband. I bet it's sparkly and fabulous."

"It's ridiculous," Y/N counters, though she can feel her resolve weakening under his charming insistence.

Harry leans forward, his expression suddenly serious. "Y/N, as someone who has worn some truly outrageous things on stage, feather boas, sequined jumpsuits, that one unfortunate experiment with leather chaps, I can assure you that a birthday headband is extremely tame by comparison."

A laugh escapes her despite her best efforts. "Leather chaps?"

"We don't talk about the chaps," Harry says gravely, though his eyes are dancing with humor. "The point is, you should embrace the birthday spirit. Wear the headband."

With an exaggerated sigh of surrender, Y/N reaches into her bag and pulls out the sparkly "Birthday Girl" headband. Before she can change her mind, Harry gently takes it from her fingers and stands up, moving behind her chair. With surprising tenderness, he carefully places the headband on her head, adjusting it so that the glittering letters are centered.

"Perfect," he declares as he returns to his seat, his voice softer than before, his eyes lingering on her face in a way that makes her stomach flip. "Beautiful birthday girl."

The compliment, delivered with such quiet sincerity, sends a wave of heat to Y/N's cheeks. She drops her gaze to her plate, suddenly finding it difficult to meet his eyes.

"Thank you," she murmurs, not just for the compliment but for everything, for showing up, for staying, for making what could have been a humiliating disaster into something unexpectedly special.

Harry seems to understand the multiple layers of her gratitude, his expression softening as he raises his glass in a toast.

"To Y/N," he says, his voice warm with genuine affection. "Happy 25th birthday. May it be the beginning of your best year yet."

Y/N raises her own glass, clinking it gently against his. "Thank you for salvaging it."

"The night's still young," Harry points out with a grin. "We haven't even had dessert yet. I heard the waitress mention something about a chocolate lava cake that sounds absolutely sinful."

As they continue their meal, Y/N finds herself relaxing more and more in Harry's company. There's something about him that puts her at ease, the way he listens intently when she speaks, the genuine interest in his questions, the complete lack of pretense despite his fame. By the time they're sharing the aforementioned chocolate lava cake (which is indeed sinful), Y/N has almost forgotten the initial heartache of being stood up by her friends.

Harry, however, has not forgotten. As they near the end of their meal, he brings the subject up again, his tone careful but firm.

"I still can't believe none of them showed up," he says, stirring his drink thoughtfully. "That's really not okay, Y/N. Friends don't do that to each other."

Y/N sighs, the hurt she'd been successfully ignoring for the past couple of hours resurfacing. "I know. It's just...I don't think I'm a priority for any of them. Not really."

Harry frowns, clearly troubled by her words. "Then they're idiots. All of them."

The vehemence in his voice surprises Y/N. "You don't even know them all that well."

"I know enough," Harry counters. "I know that anyone who would bail on your birthday dinner without a genuinely emergency-level reason is not someone who deserves your friendship."

He hesitates, then adds more gently, "You deserve better friends, Y/N. People who show up for you the way you'd show up for them."

Y/N nods, a lump forming in her throat at his kindness. "Maybe you're right."

"I know I'm right," Harry says with a confidence that would sound arrogant from anyone else but somehow just sounds caring coming from him. "And for what it's worth, I'm really glad I got to be here tonight. Even if the circumstances aren't what either of us expected."

There's something in his tone, a hint of something more than friendly concern, that makes Y/N look up sharply, catching an expression on his face that she can't quite decipher before it's replaced by his usual easy smile.

"Me too," she admits quietly. "It's been...nice. Really nice."

Harry's smile widens, his dimple deepening in that way that makes her heart skip. "Good. That was the goal."

When the check comes, Harry smoothly intercepts it before Y/N can even reach for it.

"Harry, no," she protests. "You've already done so much. Let me at least pay for my part."

"Not a chance," Harry says firmly, already sliding his credit card into the leather folder. "It's your birthday dinner. Besides, I didn’t even RSVP, remember? Technically, I'm crashing your party."

"Some crash," Y/N retorts with a small laugh. "You're literally the only guest who showed up."

Something flickers in Harry's eyes, a brief shadow that's gone almost as quickly as it appeared. "Their loss," he says softly. "Truly."

As they prepare to leave, Y/N carefully placing her new bookmark in her bag and reluctantly removing the birthday headband (at Harry's insistence, she'd worn it through the entire meal, even when the waitstaff brought out a complimentary slice of cake with a candle and sang to her), she finds herself not wanting the evening to end.

"So," Harry says as they step out into the cool evening air, standing awkwardly on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. "Can I call you a car? Or are you close enough to walk home?"

Y/N hesitates, torn between not wanting to impose further and not wanting to say goodbye just yet. "I'm not far. Just a few blocks."

Harry nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Right. Well, I could walk you? If you want. Just to make sure you get home safe."

There's an uncharacteristic uncertainty in his voice, as if he's genuinely unsure whether she'll want to prolong their time together. It's this hint of vulnerability that gives Y/N the courage to be honest.

"I'd like that," she says with a small smile. "If you don't mind."

Relief crosses Harry's face, followed by a warm smile. "I don't mind at all."

They fall into step beside each other, walking in comfortable silence for a few moments before Harry speaks again, his voice casual, almost too casual.

"So, this might be a bit forward, but...would you maybe want to do this again sometime? Without the birthday headband, I mean. Just...dinner. Or coffee. Or whatever you like, really."

He's rambling slightly, which Y/N finds endearing coming from someone usually so composed and confident. It takes her a moment to process what he's actually asking.

"Are you...asking me out?" she clarifies, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. "Like, on a date?"

Harry stops walking, turning to face her directly. In the soft glow of the streetlights, with flecks of glitter still catching the light on his cheekbones, he looks almost otherworldly, a fairy tale prince somehow transported to a London sidewalk.

"Yes," he says simply, his green eyes steady on hers. "I am."

"But..." Y/N struggles to make sense of this unexpected turn. "Why? I mean, you're you, and I'm...just me."

Harry's brow furrows slightly, a flash of frustration crossing his features. "Do you really not know?"

When Y/N just stares at him blankly, he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even further.

"Y/N, I've wanted to ask you out since the first time we met, at Tom's birthday thing last year. You were wearing that green dress, and you were arguing with someone about books, and you were so passionate and smart and beautiful that I couldn't take my eyes off you."

Y/N's mouth falls open slightly in shock. She remembers that night, remembers being introduced to Harry Styles and trying desperately to act normal while her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. She remembers getting into a heated debate with Tom's pretentious cousin about the literary merits of contemporary fiction, completely forgetting about Harry's presence until she looked up to find him watching her with an amused smile.

"But you never said anything," she manages finally.

Harry shrugs, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "I tried. Several times, actually. But something always got in the way, you'd leave early, or someone would interrupt, or I'd lose my nerve." He laughs softly, shaking his head at himself. "Not very rock star of me, I know."

"So when I texted you about tonight..." Y/N begins, pieces starting to fall into place.

"I nearly dropped my phone in excitement," Harry admits with a self-deprecating grin. "Asked Mia immediately for all the details, made sure I'd be in London, even rescheduled some studio time."

He reaches up, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that seems almost shy. "I was planning to play it cool, you know? Just show up with the group, maybe sit next to you if I could manage it, see if we hit it off properly."

His expression darkens slightly as he continues, "Then I show up and find that all of our so-called friends have bailed on your birthday. Which, by the way, made me want to call each of them personally and give them a piece of my mind. But it also gave me the chance to spend time with just you, which was...well, it was perfect, actually."

Y/N stares at him, trying to process everything he's saying. Harry Styles has had a crush on her for a year. Harry Styles rearranged his schedule to attend her birthday dinner. Harry Styles wants to date her.

It's too much to take in all at once.

"You don't have to answer now," Harry says quickly, misinterpreting her silence. "I know it's a lot, and you've had a weird night, and I'm probably not making it any less weird by dumping all this on you. We can just–"

"Yes," Y/N interrupts, surprising herself with the firmness of her answer. "Yes, I'd like to go on a date with you."

Harry's face lights up with a smile so bright it could rival the streetlamps illuminating the sidewalk around them. "Yeah? You're sure?"

Y/N nods, a matching smile spreading across her own face. "I'm sure. Although I have to warn you, it'll be hard to top tonight. Not many first dates involve a birthday headband and abandoned dinner reservations."

Harry laughs, the sound warm and genuine in the quiet of the evening. "I'll do my best to make it memorable in other ways."

They stand there for a moment, smiling at each other like idiots beneath the streetlight, before Harry offers his arm in an old-fashioned gesture that somehow doesn't feel out of place coming from him.

"Shall we continue, birthday girl? I believe I promised to see you safely home."

Y/N slips her arm through his, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the mild evening air and everything to do with the man beside her.

"Lead on, Styles," she says with a teasing smile. "And for the record, I'm glad you were the only one who showed up tonight."

Harry's answering smile is soft and intimate, just for her. "Me too, Y/N. More than you know."

As they continue down the sidewalk, arms linked and conversation flowing easily between them, Y/N thinks that perhaps being stood up on her birthday wasn't such a disaster after all. In fact, it might just be the best thing that's ever happened to her.

Taglist: @triski73 @angeldavis777 @ivegotthecinemaa @bethiegurl19 @sstylezzz @spargelhund @myfavefanficsever @spinnic @catmomstyles3 @mads3502

#ghstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles wattpad

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petertingle-yipyip · 1 year ago

Text

DONT BE A FOOL - MATT MURDOCK

Pairing: matt x wife!reader

Word Count: 2, 156

Summary: After a very tense argument about a misused name, your apologetic husband ends up getting looped in by your students.

//follow-up to three empty words but can probably be read on its own. i realize i lost the original plot so if it’s too bothersome, i’ll rewrite it// rewrite/part three?

The next morning, you refused to dilly dally your morning routine. Your shower was quick, your hair and makeup remained simple. Even your outfit was more or less the first thing you grabbed from your closet. You gathered all of your papers - which you hadn’t gotten around to grading the night before - and your laptop before Matt’s alarm had even gone off.

You skipped making breakfast, deciding to stop at a coffee shop on the way to work instead, and hustled out the door. You ignored the still sleeping figure of Elektra on your couch even though your brain wanted to soak her with cold water and kick her out. You did slam the door on your way out but that was just to satisfy your own anger.

You walked into your classroom and let out a loud sigh as you dropped into your deskchair. You were thankful to be out of the house, in your own space for the time being. As you began grading the papers and piling them according to the hours, your mind wandered back to the night before. You wondered if Elektra would be out of your apartment when you got back. You wondered if Matt would tell Foggy and Karen that you two got into a fight last night. You then found yourself wondering if Matt was actually going to go to work that morning.

You realized you were staring blankly at the student’s worksheet in front of you so you shook the thoughts and focused on the daunting stacks before you.

Most of the hours were business as usual. Your normal rowdy students were a bit extra, but that might’ve been due to your already grated nerves more than their own behaviors. It wasn’t until the hour before lunch that you found some of your students more huddled and secretive than usual.

“What are you doing in the corner?” You called, peaking over your computer at the small group. “There’s, what, five minutes till the bell?”

“Mrs. Murdock, what’s your husband’s name?” One of the girls, Liv, asked with an innocent expression. The same one she gave you when she explained her lacking assignments.

“Matthew.” You titled down your screen to see them better. “Why?”

“What does he do again?”

“Lawyer. Why?”

“Is he handsome?” Another girl, Nicole, asked with wiggling eyebrows.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes at your middle schoolers.

“Yes, very.” You smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t have married him if he wasn’t.”

“And if he’s a lawyer, he’s gotta be smart, right?”

“Again, very. He went to Columbia.”

“So like… Is he why you’re so sad today?” Blake, the only boy in the group, chimed in with a nonchalant shrug.

“Guys.” You frowned slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I’m not sad. Me and Mr. Murdock are fine. We’re happily married. And you should be worried about your own relationship drama, not mine.”

“So you admit there’s drama?” Nicole countered quickly.

“Between Blake and Emmy? Yes.” You nodded and Emmy’s jaw dropped while her friends poked her teasingly. “Between me and Mr. Murdock, no.”

“Mhmm.. So why is the photo face down?”

“What?”

“The photo by your computer.” She came across the room and lifted the frame near your laptop that was in fact, face down. “You told us on the first day that this was one your favorite photos and you have it on it’s face… There’s drama, Mrs. Murdock.”

“You’re very observant, Nicole. Thank you.” You said flatly as you took the frame from her hands and set it in it’s rightful position. “I must’ve knocked it over when I was trying to find you and Liv’s missing portfolio project.” “You can’t deflect, Mrs. M.” Liv added from across the room. “It’s all over your face.”

“Y’know what.” You announced, standing from your desk. “The bell rings in less than two minutes. You guys can all go to lunch early.”

A chorus of questions arose while you heard the door being pushed open.

“They can’t write you all up.” You shrugged and dropped back in your chair while the meddling group made their way into the hall.

The girls continued to whisper to themselves and glanced back at you, to which you shooed them away. When you were finally alone in your classroom, you let out a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand over your eyes.

Usually, you adored having open communication with your students because that meant they trusted you. But at the same time, that meant they felt entitled to know your life story whether you like it or not. The bell echoed in your ears so you spun your chair to the small fridge under your desk that held your lunch.

You clicked play on a playlist from your laptop and began eating your lunch, typing away to enter in grades. You knew you should just do nothing, scroll mindlessly on your social medias instead or maybe even call Foggy to ensure Matt made it to work, but the busy work for your eyes, head, and hands felt better. Plus, you weren’t exactly sure what you would’ve said that could’ve gotten your question answered without being a dead giveaway. So you kept working instead.

“MRS. MURDOCK!” Liv nearly yelled as she burst through your door, maybe halfway through the lunch hour. “OHMYGODYOULLNEVERBELIEVE-”

“Liv!” You said in shock, nearly dropping your water bottle. “What is going on? Is everything okay?”

“Look at this!” She hurried across and showed you her phone screen. Oddly enough, it was a photo of the back of a man exiting a taxi. What stood out to you was the white cane in his hand.

“It’s a guy getting out a cab.” You tried to reason, gently pushing her phone away. “That’s what you ran in here to tell me?”

“But he’s blind!”

“So it seems.”

“Don’t you know what this means?” She insisted with a small stomp.

You simply shrugged and raised your brows.

“It’s Mr. Murdock! He came to apologize!”

“Liv, I appreciate your concern for my marriage but we’re fine, okay? It’s not like he and I are heading towards a divorce. We’re just in a bit of an argument. It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? Because I’ve never seen you so…” She gestured vaguely to you.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now go back to your lunch, please. I have to finish these.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Mrs. M, just-”

“Liv, boundaries, please.”

“Just listen!”

“No.” You said firmly. “Go back to your lunch.”

She huffed slightly but retreated to the door. As she was heading out, she nearly ran into one of the monitors.

“Sorry to intrude, Y/N.” The monitor said as she popped her head in. “I have a visitor for you.”

“Another one of my kids being a problem?” You sighed and wheeled yourself a bit further from your desk. “Send ‘em in. They can sit in the corner till next class.”

“Actually, I think you’ll be glad to see this one.” She smiled knowingly and reached for something outside the doorframe.

Before you could voice another question, she ushered Matt through the door. He said his usual thanks for being guided and the monitor gave you an approving nod and thumbs up. She mouthed a very not subtle ‘He’s very handsome’. You smiled awkwardly in agreement but once the door closed, you rolled your eyes and went back to your gradebook.

“Could’ve called.” You said simply.

“I didn’t think you would answer.” Matt replied honestly.

“Probably wouldn’t have… Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I couldn’t focus.”

You heard the clicks of him folding his cane as he wandered around your classroom. You peaked up to watch him manueaver the desks with such ease that for a split second, you forgot he was blind. You watched him run his fingers along the bulletin board you had on one wall, leading into the standards and other required signage you had up.

“Did she leave?” You asked and returned to your prior task. You knew if you watched him for too long, he’d know and he’d show you that stupid lopsided smirk that he did.

“She was still pretty weak when I left.” He said and there was a slight sadness in his voice. Though if someone asked if it was for Elektra or your argument, you wouldn’t have been able to say. “But I did ask Stick to find somewhere else to take her to recover if she can’t leave on her own by the time someone gets home.”

“Chivalrous.” You made a face behind your computer screen. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that.”

He sighed slightly and you mumbled a short complaint to yourself before scooting away from your desk and spinning in your chair to face him, just as he appeared at your side. You folded your hands over your stomach and leaned back in your chair, giving an exaggerated sigh and nod for him to talk.

“Y/N, last night, I said something I shouldn’t have.” He began carefully, as if he was following a carefully rehearsed speech. For all you knew, he had rehearsed it with Foggy that morning before he showed up. “I let Stick push me and I just said the first thing that came to mind.”

“But she shouldn’t be the first thing, right?” You said softly with a small shrug. “Stick shouldn’t be able to push you into saying that, whether you meant it or not.”

“You’re right.” He admitted and your brows went up slightly. “I shouldn’t have said that. You are the only woman that I want to be with. I married you, without any hesitation. I never had second thoughts or second thoughts or anything. You, Y/N Murdock, have my heart.”

You nodded slowly but said nothing as you stood. You crossed your arms and looked up at him, him offering a hopeful expression in return. You broke into a small smile and nudged him with your shoulder before moving past him. He followed you almost instantly and you took him to the wall on the other side of your desk near the window.

“The kids started calling this the Sweetheart’s Spotlight.” You said quietly with a small smile. “They keep a polaroid camera in one of the cubbies and every Friday, they rearrange the couples in order of their favorites… They made me put a photo of us on here, too.”

“Where do we rank?” He smiled slightly.

“We’ve been number one since it started.” You laughed. “They tell me that you’re the best by default since I’m their favorite teacher.”

“Lucky me.”

“You know I’m still upset, right?” You said carefully when the air was too light between you two.

“I know.” He nodded. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“But I also don’t want to hold onto this fight. So here’s an idea. Elektra’s out of the apartment today. You two finish whatever crusade you’re on. You make sure you don’t get yourself killed. She leaves New York and it’s all put to bed.”

“Consider it done.” He nodded. “And I know better than to get myself killed. I’ve got it too good to die.”

“Yeah because then I’m a widow and there’s not much life insurance to cash in on.” You joked as the lunch bell rang.

“I should get going.” He nodded before gently taking your hand. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too.” You said softly as your students started filing in.

“OHMYGOD.” One of your students yelled and you closed your eyes tightly, quietly groaning in embarrassment. “IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?”

“Yes, Luna.” You said, feeling the blush across your cheeks. “This is Mr. Murdock and he’s leaving.”

You pulled Matt towards the door as he laughed. Your kids yelled questions that you tried to ignore until Matt stopped, pulling you to stop with him.

“It’s career week!” One of the boys yelled. More so a demand.

“I’m aware, Jack.” You nodded. “What does that have to do with this?”

“He’s not here to talk to us about lawyers?” The boy’s head cocked as he asked his question.

“That’s exactly why I’m here.” Matt grinned and you groaned again. “Let’s give Mrs. Murdock a break, right?”

“You’re so dead.” You threatened quietly with a laugh before heading back to your chair.

“Okay, kids.” You announced. “He’s blind and can’t write. I’m not getting up. Take your own notes and keep your questions relevant to his career, okay?”

“Yes, Mrs. Murdock.” They all answered.

“All yours, Mr. Murdock.” You gestured before returning to grading and the personal questions started flying.

“How did you guys meet?!”

“What’s her favorite color?!”

“Did you see the wall?!” “He can’t see!”

“Are they always this rowdy?” He asked you with a slight laugh.

“You’re new and exciting.” You shrugged. “Take it as a compliment.”

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bookshelftreasures · 3 months ago

Text

The Worst Kept Secret

Pairing: Xaden Riorson x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Xaden and the reader try to keep their relationship a secret, but their friends at Basgiath aren’t fooled. From stolen shirts to public displays of affection, everyone knows—except them. When the teasing becomes too much, Xaden slyly reminds the reader that their "secret" is hardly a secret at all.

Word Count: 562

Warnings: None

Notes: For all of you who voted for Fourth Wing in my poll 🥰

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆⋆☾✩⁺₊✩ ✩⁺₊✩☽⋆⋆☾✩⁺₊✩ ✩⁺₊✩☽⋆⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

You were good at keeping secrets.

Or at least, you thought you were.

Which is why it was particularly annoying to overhear Garrick mutter, "How long are they gonna pretend we don’t know?" as you walked into the mess hall.

Your steps faltered for only a second before you continued toward the table where your usual group sat, trying to act normal. You met Xaden’s eyes across the table, and he barely lifted a brow, as if daring you to react.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Sitting down beside him—definitely not too close—you picked up your fork and started eating, pretending you hadn’t heard a damn thing.

"Seriously, it’s getting embarrassing," Bodhi added, not even bothering to lower his voice.

Xaden exhaled sharply, the closest thing to a sigh he ever allowed in public. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Oh, you so do," Sloane chimed in, smirking over the rim of her cup. "You two aren’t subtle."

You scoffed, setting your fork down. "Excuse me? We are very subtle."

Garrick let out an actual bark of laughter. "You sat in his lap during war games."

"It was tactical!" you argued.

"You stole his shirt," Bodhi added.

You crossed your arms. "It was cold—"

"And you were wearing it before the temperature dropped," Sloane pointed out.

Damn it.

You turned to Xaden for backup, but he just smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

Traitor.

"Are you seriously telling me," Garrick continued, voice dripping with disbelief, "that you two haven’t realized that every single person in this quadrant knows you’re together?"

You hesitated, trying to find the right words. "We’re just… friends."

Xaden chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Sure. Friends."

"And friends," you pressed on, ignoring the way his voice sent a shiver down your spine, "sometimes… help each other out. Keep each other warm. Steal each other’s clothes."

"Right," Sloane drawled. "And when Xaden called you ‘sweetheart’ in the middle of training, that was…?"

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Looked at Xaden, who was not looking at you, but the smirk pulling at his lips was very much there.

Traitor again.

Bodhi leaned forward, clearly enjoying this too much. "And when you got thrown in the infirmary after that sparring match, and Xaden refused to leave your side—"

"He was just making sure I was okay!"

"You were unconscious for an hour," Garrick said, voice exasperated. "Not in a coma. He sat there all night like a brooding, overprotective shadow."

"Sounds like something a friend would do," Xaden murmured, finally joining in, his tone full of amusement.

You turned to glare at him, and he met your gaze, utterly unbothered. And maybe a little smug.

"You know what?" you said, standing abruptly. "I don’t have to sit here and listen to this."

As you turned to leave, Xaden followed. Not just followed. He reached out, caught your wrist, and tugged you into his side.

The group let out a collective groan.

"You’re proving our point!" Bodhi called after you.

You barely heard them, too focused on the warmth of Xaden’s hand against your skin. He leaned down slightly, voice low enough that only you could hear.

"We are very subtle, sweetheart."

You shot him a glare, but the warmth in his dark eyes made your heart stutter.

Maybe you weren’t as good at keeping secrets as you thought.

#fourth wing x reader #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson fanfic #xaden riorson fic #oneshot #fanfiction #fluff

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chingyu1023vick · 11 months ago

Text

Patch 1.108

🧡 I finished checking my mods for the patch and the new Lovestruck pack. Today comes with many mod updates so please check my Google spreadsheet to ensure you get all necessary updates.

🧡In case you missed it, a new mod has already been available to the public this month! 😊

NEW: Activity Lot Challenges

July 28, 2024:

📌First Round of Mod Updates for patch 1.108:

Balanced Life {Merged Edition} V20

Updated for patch 1.108

Blue Fear V5

Updated to add Fears from EP16 Lovestruck Pack

Bye Bye Eye Ring (Better CAS Randomization) V3

Updated for patch 1.108

Custom Traits in Club Filter V25

Updated to include traits and turn on/ offs from EP16 Lovestruck Pack

Updated to include more traits from llazyneiph's Royalty mod

Higher CAS Story Skills V3

Updated to include Romance Skill from EP16 Lovestruck Pack

Introduction Hider / No Autonomy V6

Updated all introductions for patch 1.108

Added Romantic Introduction from EP16 Lovestruck Pack

Lot Traits Turned Challenges V2

Updated to include Singles Hangout from EP16 Lovestruck Pack

Massage Socials Fix V3

Updated for patch 1.108

More / Less Skill Boost from Moods V4

Updated for patch 1.108

Occult Fanatic Trait V4

Updated OccultInteractionsForFanaticOnly packages for patch 1.108

Walk Normally V5

Updated !chingyu_SleepyWalk and !chingyu_SleepyWalk_Dazed for patch 1.108

🔨All my Custom Preferences Sets now require Zerbu's The Custom Preferences Mod to work!!! 🚨Get this required mod by @zerbu or else you will stuck with the loading screen and can't see my custom preferences in the game!!!🚨

FYI: Preferences with custom categories after patch 1.108 must be added to a common list shared with modders just like the venue list. Therefore, chingyu_ExtraCharacteristics from Sim Characteristics Overhaul and chingyu_addon_HolidayPreferences from Holiday Tradition Override are unaffected by the patch because they are not in a custom category.

🔽 List of my Custom Preferences with this new mod requirement:

Age Group Custom Preferences

Character Value Custom Preferences

Instant CAS Story Preferences

Lunar Custom Preferences

Mood Custom Preferences

Motive Custom Preferences

Sims Qualities

Strength and Weakness Preferences

❌Broken Mods Not Yet Updated for Patch 1.108:

Less Obsession

Smarter Self-Care

I'm going to update them as soon as possible. 💪 So many of the tunings in these two mods were edited so I have to re-do the mods.

I tagged some mods as required updates for adding compatibilities to traits/ skills/ minor features of the new pack on my spreadsheet but they are safe to be used in the game. My other mods and traits are compatible with the current patch.

After fixing the rest of the broken mods, I will playtest with the pack more to see what extra features I can add to my mods with the new attraction system.

You may view the full changelog and patch note on my Mod Status on Google spreadsheet.

🔆 Changelog in July 2024 HERE

🔹 Links to ALL My Traits, Game Mods, and CCs

🔹List of IDs for creators who want to refer my traits to their own mods

🔹 List of Chingyu’s CC Traits Name and Descriptions for mod users

🔹 Check Mod Status after a patch & Compatibilities

👁‍🗨 Learn how to install a mod & FAQs

👁‍🗨 Terms of Use

👁‍🗨 Ask Questions/ Suggestions/ Bug Reports on Discord

▶ I need to see a screenshot or LE report to help you figure out what’s wrong!

👁‍🗨 Download on my Patreon

👁‍🗨 Follow me on Twitter

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sydwritess · 13 days ago

Text

Group Chats With Y/n

F1 grid x fem!reader

Summary: texts in the F1 group chat with y/n

Notes: requests are open!

01 02 03 04 05 06 07

Y/n Y/l/n has made a group chat

Oscar Piastri changed to Pastry 🥐

Max Verstappen changed to Maxine✨️

Lando Norris changed to Lanlikesfish

George Russell changed to Georgie

Kimi Antonelli changed to Pasta boi

Charles Leclerc changed to Charlie

Lewis Hamilton changed to Roscoe's dad

Yuki Tsunoda changed to Red bull #1

Carlos Sainz changed to Carlos 🌶

Ollie bearman changed to Bear minimum

Alex Albon changed to Alexandria

Daniel Ricciardo changed to Riccardio

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

Lanlikesfish

Alright, who made this?

Y/n

The one and only ✨️✨️

Maxine✨️

Well I can see you have favorites.

Y/n

It's okay. If your nice to me I'll change your name 😊

Max

I will change it myself. 😒

Y/n

And I set the setting so you can't. Hehe

Bear minimum

Am I a favorite?

Y/n

Of course, cause your nice 😊😊

Y/n changed 'Bear minimum' to Bearman #1

Bearman #1

Awe thx

Y/n

Ofcc

Pasta boi

I like this name. It's suits me well.

Lanlikesfish

Ugh I hate fish!

Y/n

Haters gonna hate.

Pasta boi

For realll

Georgie

Hater's gonna hate hate hate hate and the players gonna play play play play

Y/n

HAHA WHAT THE FUCK YOU SWIFTIE 😭

Georgie

What can I say?

Pastry🥐

I am no pastry

Y/n

Yes you are. white as a ghost dude

Red bull #1

I like being a favorite. Honeslty guys it's not hard being nice to her. She's nice to 🙂

Y/n

Awe thnx yuki. That's why your my fav. Unlike... others

Lanlikesfish

HOW CAN I BE FAVORITE TIPS AND TRICKS

Roscoe's dad

you guys... i can't believe i ran over a ground hog.... 😪

Charlie

he lived a good life mate

Carlos 🌶

oooo I like my name!! Chile pepper just means i'm spicyy

Y/n

How the fuck did y'all get into F1 y'all are so unserious lmfao

Maxine✨️

I take my job very serious.

Y/n

Oh yeah, because crashing into George on purpose is very very ethical.

Maxine✨️

Yeah because.. I had reasons.

Y/n

Boy can't even think of a straight answer.

Alexandria

Alexandria? Really?

Y/n

Yes. it fits. A vibe

Pasta boi

Might go get some pasta after this premier

Georgie

Funny kimi kardashian

Y/n

OMG THAT IS A BETTER NAME!

Y/n changed Pasta boi to Kimi Kardashian

Kimi Kardashian

Ugh. Not cool

Georgie

I'm quite excited for it actually

Y/n

of course you are.

Georgie

Are you not going?

Y/n. I can't be in the same room as brad.

Maxine✨️

why?

Y/n

He just ruins the movie.. entirely. For me at least

Lanlikesfish

*cough* I agree *cough*

Y/n

FINALLY someone agrees.

Georgie

Really Lando?

Lanlikesfish

look all I'm saying is I don't like that I was only in there for like what, 30 seconds? That's a of a stab to the heart mate.

Roscoe's dad

Yes but the main character is also Brad Pitt for a reason

Landlikesfish

It should have been me. I'm way better looking

Y/n

Okay you narcissist

Landlikesfish

It's all about personality and confidence

Hey loves! Different from what I normally write but I thought it was a unique idea! Comment to be added to the tag list! Requests are open!

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wafflefries13 · 1 year ago

Text

Dream a Little Dream of Me (Twisted Wonderland Cast X Reader)

Summary: A look into the future with the Twisted Wonderland cast, guest staring our favorite magicless prefect.

AN: Can you tell which of these were really hard for me to come up with? Overall I'm pretty happy with them. A few of these I feel like I could come up with full-length fics later. But, man, did I not realize exactly how big the cast was until I started writing it all. I thought I would keep them all to around 500 words but I quickly abandoned that.

Warnings: None that I can think of. AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

“You can see the future?”

(Y/N) stood with Ace and Deuce, Grim clinging on to the side of the cauldron, watching the swirling purples, blues, and greens of their latest alchemy assignment come together.

“Sort of?” Deuce said, looking into his own cauldron, one he hadn’t summoned out of thin air this time. “It’s more like what might happen in the future. Like, if you continue doing what you’re doing you’re more likely to get this result sort of thing.”

“It's not really specific either,” Ace added. “This is kind of a standard potion for midterms. I think every year is doing it.”

“The oracleum mycoculous mushroom,” Professor Crewel said, giving a stern eye to the chatting group. “Is said to give premonitions, depending on how it is treated. The method we are using today should give vivid dreams on future outcomes. I recommend when you go to bed tonight, focus on a certain aspect of the future you want more information about. Health, career, wealth, marriage. Something nebulous will work better with this specific concoction. It’s important to note that you will be aware that you’re dreaming, but unable to have any agency or action. Remember you’re not controlling the vision, just let it happen and see what information you can gather.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this magic stuff,” (Y/N) said, ladling their potion into a thick mug. She screwed her face up. “Or the smell.”

“More for me then!” Grim cheered, snatching the mug out of her hands and downing the entire thing before (Y/N) could protest. As soon as he had drained the last drop, he turned a strange shade of green, despite his gray fur.

(Y/N) pet his head sympathetically as Grim made gagging noises. “That’s what you get for being impatient.”

As soon as the rest of the class had drunk their potion, with similar reactions to Grim, they were dismissed. The rest of the day went on as normal, or as normal as it could be at Night Raven College.

As the sun set and students settled into their beds, some eagerly awaited the possible visions that they hoped would come to them as they slept. Others dreaded the uncertain future. Still others ignored the possibilities all together, not putting stock into an uncertain chance of a glimpse of the future, determined to make their fortune themselves.

And so, NRC slept and dreamed.

Ace

Ace vaulted over the overturned trash can, dashing after the culprit. His feet pounded the pavement, heart thundering in his ears with every step. The culprit looked over his shoulder to see Ace still in hot pursuit and he dashing out into the street. Cars swerved and braked hard, trying to avoid hitting him, one overcorrecting and swiping into another car. Ace ignored the angry shouts, sliding across the hood of a crashed car with single determination.

“Ace!” Deuce’s voice crackled from the walky-talky fixed to his tactical vest. “Where are you?”

Ace quickly flicked his eyes up to check the street signs. “Heading south down Dodgson street!” South? Was that right? It sounded like the right thing to say, and it’s not like he had time to check the position of the sun.

“On it!” Deuce called back.

Ace’s muscles burned, but he refused to break stride. The culprit cut through an open air market, shoving and throwing people behind him to try and slow Ace down. Ace tried to catch them while still keeping the culprit in his line of sight. Just when he felt like his lungs were about to give out, an arm shot out from the corner, clotheslining the culprit. The culprit fell back hard, his own momentum bringing him down. Deuce stepped out from the corner, cracking his knuckles. Ace slid to a stop next to them, quickly kneeling down to flip the culprit on his stomach, handcuffing his hands behind him. Stolen mage stones spilled from the culprit’s pockets.

Later, back at the Arcane Special Defense Unit headquarters in the Queendom of Roses, everyone was celebrating. Senior officers gave hearty congratulations to the two rookies for their final take down of a mage stone thief ring that had been a thorn in their side for almost a decade. Deuce took the praise with a little more grace, demurely waving off attention, while Ace preened and basked in it.

“Hey, Trappola!” One of the senior officers called over the din. “You got a visitor!”

(Y/N) poked her head out from behind the officer, giving a little wave. Several of the other officers whistled and whooped, Deuce elbowing him with a smile. Ace flipped them off and jogged over to (Y/N) pulling her out of the main room to a slightly quieter hallway.

“Hey, hero,” (Y/N) said, kissing his cheek.

“Hero, huh?” Ace said with a crooked smile. “I like the sound of that.”

“Don’t get a big head, now.”

“Hey, you’re talking to a soon to be detective. That deserves some respect, right?”

“Sure, sure.” (Y/N) flicked his chest. “You’ve always had a big head anyway.”

“Alright, that’s it!” Smirking, Ace leaned down, slinging his arms around (Y/N)’s midsection and sweeping her up to toss over his shoulder. (Y/N) shrieked in delight as he spun around. Getting dizzy, Ace tripped over his feet, causing them both to tumble down. Ace pivoted at the last second so he landed first, softening the blow, (Y/N) landing on top of him. They both looked at each other for a moment before bursting out in a fit of giggles.

Catching her breath, (Y/N) rested her chin on Ace’s chest, gazing up at him. He held her close, brushing a hand through her hair.

“Marry me,” He mumbled. They both seemed shocked that he had said it, Ace immediately blushing with wide eyes. “I - I mean,” He stuttered. “I didn’t mean - I mean, I did, but I didn’t mean to say it now - Not that I wouldn’t want to or anything but -”

(Y/N) silenced him with a kiss. “It’s okay,” She said when she pulled away, leaving Ace dazed. “I’ll wait for you.”

Ace pulled her close, burying his face in her shoulder, purposefully ignoring the cheers from the officers who had stuck their heads out the door. He started thinking about jewelry stores nearby.

Deuce

Deuce fiddled with the clasp on his cape. He looked in the full-length mirror in his room. His private room - some of the perks of being Heartslabyul’s House Warden. He’d been fitted for the uniform at the end of last school year, when Riddle had announced Deuce as his successor. And now, here he was, finally wearing it. It felt awkward. He looked awkward. Not for the first time, he couldn’t believe he was here, wearing it. It didn’t look right. Or, rather, he didn’t look right in it.

There was a soft knock at his door. Deuce flinched away from fiddling with the uniform like it had burned him. “Come in!” He called. Why did his voice sound so weird? Was that what a House Warden should sound like?

(Y/N) popped her head in, wearing the formal entrance ceremony robes. “Just me. Whoa.” She stepped inside, staring at Deuce. She looked at him in awe, a smile spreading across her face. She clasped her hands together. “Deuce! You look amazing!”

He spread his arms wide, trying to find whatever (Y/N) saw in him. “You think so? I don’t look, I don’t know, out of place or anything?”

She hummed, walking forward and straightening Deuce’s cape. “I think you look like a fine and respectable House Warden, one that all the new first-years are going to love. Although,” She winked at him and Deuce felt himself blush vigorously. “You’re a pretty easy guy to love.”

“Yeah?” He said, hoping she would ignore the way his voice cracked.

“Yeah.” She gripped his lapels and pulled him down for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her. Couldn’t they just stay like this? Did he really have what it took to go out there and give a welcome speech to all those new students? Not to mention all the returning students who already knew him, all his mess ups and faults and imperfections.

“Hey.” (Y/N)’s voice snapped him out of it. “You’re getting in your own head again. Everyone’s going to be able to see you just like I do.” She brushed a lock of hair away from his face. “Strong, kind, brave, the world’s best boyfriend. That part is just for me, though.”

He sighed, dropping his head so their foreheads touched. “I’m glad you’re with me.”

“I always will be.”

“Maybe I can get one more kiss?” Deuce said shyly, feeling himself blush again. “For good luck.”

She smiled up at him. “Sure, for luck.”

Just as their lips were about to brush, the door slammed open. “What’s the hold up, Juice?” Ace said, storming in. “The first-years are getting antsy out there and - oh, I see.” He grinned wickedly and cocked an eyebrow. “Nevermind, this is much more important.”

Deuce grabbed the scepter that came with the House Warden uniform. He pointed it at Ace, shouting, “Off with your head!”

Ace cringed back, arms coming up to shield himself. When nothing happened, he looked up, annoyed.“Hey, that’s not your spell!”

“No,” Deuce said, grinning. “But I can still whack you with this thing!”

Deuce chased Ace out of the room, waving the scepter. As Ace dashed down the hall, Deuce felt (Y/N) slip her hand into his. She kissed his cheek. “Come on, House Warden,” She said. “There’s a whole school year waiting for us.”

Cater

“We on in three, Cater,” The producer said. Cater gave a thumbs up, occupied by the makeup team readjusting his cover so his face didn’t shine under the lights on camera. Behind them, the Shaftland’s Glass Slipper Gala was starting up, celebrities of all ilk stepping out of limos to walk the red carpet and show off the cutting edge of fashion.

Cater took one more swig of water, brushing invisible dust from his blazer jacket, and fixed his most dazzling smile. “Alright, ready when you are!”

“Okay, get ready everyone!” The producer said, readjusting her earpiece. “We’re a go in 5, 4, 3…” She mouthed the last two numbers, pointing to Cater as a blinking red light turned on on the camera.

“Welcome, Shaftlands!” Cater said into his handheld microphone, winking to the camera. “It’s your favorite pop culture and social media consultant, Cater! We’re here at the Glass Slipper Gala, the annual exhibition for all things gorgeous, over the top, and innovative! Let’s see who we can find on the red carpet.”

Cater waved over a few celebrities, getting quotes that, the next day, would be plastered on the front cover of numerous magazines and social websites. People found it hard not to match his energy, smiling and laughing along.

Cater had just waved off a rising movie star when he saw someone familiar from the corner of his eye. Weaving their way through the throngs of media, cameras, and various fans hoping to get a glimpse of their bias, (Y/N) gave Cater a little wave. She held up a tray with three cardboard to-go cups, the symbol of his favorite coffee shop emblazoned on the front. Cater cried with delight and beelined it for her. The producer started waving frantically as the cameraman followed his movement with a questioning look.

“We have a super special treat for you, viewers!” Cater said. (Y/N) blinked in surprise as Cater slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling into a sideways hug. “My wonderful, adorable girlfriend is here! Say hi, sweetie!”

“Umm, hi?” She held up the tray. “I thought you guys might need a break so I brought you a pick-me-up. A blond roast with three shots of vanilla and milk, green tea with half-and-half, and,” She picked up the last cup and handed it to Cater. “An iced chai latte, size medium but put into a large size so there’s room to mix in extra cinnamon, using oat milk instead of dairy, two pumps brown sugar syrup, one pump mocha syrup, two pumps cinnamon dolce syrup, three shots espresso, cinnamon dusting, and vanilla sweet cream foam.”

“She even knows my order!” Cater swooned, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. “Viewers, have you ever seen a more perfect person in the whole wide world?”

“Uh, Cater?”

“Pretty, smart, and super sweet. What more could you ask for? Well, you all know I like things a little more spicy than sweet, but my girl has that in spades, too, just between us.”

“Should you really be saying this on air?”

Cater shrugged. “They can edit it all out in post.” “Cater,” The producer said, deadpan. “We’re live right now.”

(Y/N) gasped as Cater blinked, staring into the single black eye of the camera. The cameraman smiled and shrugged.

“Oh, well then,” Cater said. In a second, his sparkling smile returned. “Then we should give them a show, right?”

“Cater, wha-”

Before she could say anything else, Cater plucked the coffee from (Y/N)’s hands, setting it gently on the ground with his microphone. He jumped back up, taking her into his arms in a low dip, kissing her amid a flurry of flashing lights.

Trey

The bell above the door had been ringing constantly all day. The small storefront was full to bursting, children pressing their faces against the glass display case to point at every confection they wanted their parents to buy. Shop assistants in crisp mint green and white uniforms handed white boxes over the counter to eager hands. Two others maneuvered extra seating outside under an awning to help combat the surplus customers.

A teen with emerald green hair escaped into the attached kitchen, taking a deep breath of relief. “Well, big brother,” He said. “I think it’s safe to say the grand re-opening is a success.”

Trey chuckled from the counter, squeezing buttercream to swirl atop enough cupcakes to feed an army. After a fire halfway destroyed this family’s bakery several months ago, there had been talks of shutting down the business entirely and joining up with some of the bigger corporate shops in town. Trey had scrimped and saved and planned to recreate the shop to his own specifics, making sure to blend years upon years of Clover secret family recipes with his new creations. They were still constructing a new upper level for a specialty dining experience. Patrons would pay a flat sum for a pre-arranged dessert tasting menu set up like a full 6-course dinner, using cutting edge technology, foams and gelatin beads and liquid nitrogen ice cream and all the works. There was already a waiting list for reservations.

“Uh, Chef?” Another worker poked their head through the door. “You have some people out here asking for you.”

Trey smiled, whipping his hands on his apron. He quickly directed the other pastry chefs in the kitchen then headed out. The group of Heartslabyul graduates, plus Chenya, Grim, and (Y/N), had taken over one of the outside tables. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were competing to see who could fit more cupcakes into their mouth at once while Riddle chided them. Cater was rearranging his plate of mini-tarts, eclairs, and macarons to take the best pictures. Chenya was sneaking treats off everyone’s plate while they were preoccupied. (Y/N) noticed Trey first, smiling wide and standing to meet him.

“There’s the man of the hour,” She said, meeting him in a hug.

“So, Trey,” Ace asked with a sly look. “How many free samples are we getting today?”

“Didn’t you get enough when Trey was practicing his new recipes?” Riddle scoffed.

“You can never get enough of Trey’s baking!” Grim cheered, taking a large bite of another cream puff as creme anglaise bursted all over his furry face.

Riddle huffed at the display of bad manners before turning to Trey with a smile. “Congratulations are definitely in order. Everything is looking even better than you described.”

“It was a lot of hard work,” Trey said. “I didn’t think we were going to make it a few times.”

(Y/N) shoved him. “Oh, stop. You had perfect control the whole time. No one ever doubted you. Especially me.” She pulled him down for a kiss.

“Bleh!” Grim stuck out his tongue. “Not when I’m eating!”

(Y/N) smiled wickedly and pulled Trey down to pepper kisses all over his face. Grim, Ace, and Deuce made mocking sounds of disgust before bursting into laughter.

As everyone refocused on their pastries, (Y/N) leaned over to whisper to Trey. “Should we tell them?” (Y/N) asked.

“Not yet,” Trey said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “I want to keep you to myself for a little while longer.”

Behind their backs, the held hands, matching rings glinting in the light.

Riddle

Riddle jerked awake at the feeling of hands on his shoulders. He heard an “Oh!” of surprise. A blanket slipped off his shoulders, pooling on the floor. He was sitting at a desk illuminated by a single lamp, the rest of the lights in the small bedroom turned off. Through the window blinds, he could see it was dark outside. He turned to the person behind him who had tried to drape the blanket over him.

“Sorry,” (Y/N) said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Riddle rubbed at his tired eyes, peeling off a loose leaf of notebook paper that was stuck to his cheek. He looked down at the mess of notes and textbooks littering his desk. “No, it’s a good thing,” He said. “I don’t have time for sleep right now. I need to study.”

(Y/N) frowned at him. “You need sleep, Riddle. You won’t do yourself any good if you fall asleep in the middle of the bar exam.”

Riddle turned back to his desk, rearranging various documents on magical law and court cases. “A good lawyer needs to be prepared for whatever is thrown at him.” “A good lawyer needs to be able to balance work and rest.”

“I-” Riddle sighed.

“At least let me make you some tea and take a break,” (Y/N) said, picking up the blanket and folding it over her arm.

Riddle yawned, blushing at how loud it was. “That’s… a good idea. Thank you.”

(Y/N) smiled at him, leaning down to kiss his forehead before walking over to the tiny kitchen.

Riddle looked around. They were in a small studio apartment. Riddle’s desk was shoved to one side of the room, a bed on the opposite side, blankets thrown open as if someone had just gotten out. He saw his shoes next to the doorway, neatly arranged, next to (Y/N)’s. A slightly ajar closet door showed it was split between his formal attire and (Y/N)’s clothes. They had been living together for a while, it seemed.

The bar exam was only a few days away. Five years of grueling school was all leading up to this moment. He’d heard too many stories about how it usually took two or three tries for most people to pass. He was determined to pass on the first try, to prove to himself, and maybe his mother, that he had made the right choice. In his career, in his life, in his partner…

Riddle looked back at (Y/N) in the small connected kitchen, making sure she was busy with the tea. He opened the top drawer of his desk, just enough to peak inside. The box was still there, small black velvet, holding the ring inside. It was plain, just a simple silver band, polished to a shine by his own hand, but it was all he could afford. Originally, he had wanted to use his mother’s ring, the ring that had been passed down his family for generations, supposedly back to the time of the Queen of Hearts herself. But Riddle’s mother hardly approved of his chosen profession over going into the medical field, much less his partner. He remembered the screaming match they had had, how she was absolutely appalled Riddle would want to be associated with someone with no magic, no future as she put it, not to mention no family lineage to speak of. Riddle hadn’t spoken to her in quite some time.

Riddle sighed, closing the drawer. (Y/N) had worked hard these past few years, supporting the two of them while Riddle focused on school. She’d always said it was no problem, that she was happy to work whatever odd job she could so Riddle could focus all his energy on his studies. The least he could do was make a name for himself as a lawyer, provide her with the life she deserved.

She set a tea cup down in front of him. “Here,” She said. “With honey, not sugar.” Taking her own cup, she sat on the bed facing him. “And you’re not going to look at those notes again until you finish drinking it and talk to me.”

Riddle picked up the cup, letting the warmth of the tea soak into his hands. He cast a glance at the drawer with its loaded secret within.

“Actually,” He said. “There is something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

Leona

Leona ducked, sliding across the field as a Spelldrive disk hurdled over his head. Immediately, he was back on his feet, throwing up a magical shield as the disk crashed back towards him.

The crowded stadium roared around him, stands packed to bursting. Fans wore team colors, red and gold for his Sunset Savannah team, the Lion Guard, and icy blue and white for the Shaftland’s team they were playing against, the Draugrs.

“Captain!” A voice called behind him. Leona turned to see one of his teammates fly next to him on a broom. “You okay?”

Leona brushed off the grass stain on his uniform. “I’m fine. We’re starting the new play, the one we practiced yesterday.”

His teammate balked. “Are we ready for that? We’ve only practiced it a few times, and never in a game. There’s only a minute left on the clock!”

“Then we’re running out of time!” Leona snarled. “We’re tied. This is our chance to take the game.”

The flying teammate saluted. “Sir, yes, sir!” He flew up, whistling a code to let the other players know to get in position. A few of them cast worried glances Leona’s way, but their trust in their team captain was obvious as they quickly fell into position.

Leona fell back as the ground members of his team made an arrow shape ahead of the opposing player who currently held the disk. Suddenly, as the flier crossed the 20-yard line, they inverted. The two flanking the point of the arrow knelt in front of the player at the tip. He jumped to their waiting hands, being launched into the air. The player with the disk reared his broom back, not expecting a ground assault. The player who had been thrown in the air took the opportunistic distraction to claim the disk, hurdling it to a flier on the Sunset Savanna team. The flier took the disk, hovering it a foot from him with magic, and shot back to the opposing team’s goal. As the Draugr broom flying players closed in on him, he dropped the disk without warning, to the waiting hands of a ground player. The ground player dashed forward, dodging tackles from the opposing team. As they closed in on him, he tossed the disk back to a flier. This repeated twice more until the opposing team got used to the play. When another ground player got the disk, sprinting to the goal, all Shaftlands players were focused on the flier hovering above him. The ground player faked throwing the disk up and the opposing team jerked their focus upward. Instead, the ground player flung the disk to Leona’s waiting hands. In the seconds it took for the other team to recognize the play, Leona was already steps away from the goal. He flung the disk, boosted with his own magical energy, and it sailed cleanly through the opposing team’s hoop.

The crowd thundered around him as the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game. Leona took a deep breath, throwing his head back in a victorious roar. The rest of his team joined in, supporting their captain, whooping and cheering to their heart's content.

The team gathered together, slapping each other on the back and jumping in congratulatory victory. A few of them cast sly looks Leona’s way, and before he could question it, he was soaked with an overturned cooler of bright green sports drink. They all laughed as he flung excess droplets at them.

As the championship cup was brought out, Leona’s ears twitched as a sound. He turned and heard them repeat themselves. “Leona!” (Y/N) ran onto the field, smiling wide. She was wearing an old jersey of his, the one he had when he first joined the pro Spelldrive leagues. She waved her hand high over her head, the light catching on a topaz and diamond ring on her finger.

He surged forward to meet her, wrapping her in a tight embrace and lifting her up. Without either of them noticing, a camera focused on their reunion, projecting their image on the jumbotron as they embraced and shared a victory kiss.

Jack

Jack held up a hand, stopping the rest of the search and rescue team following behind him. They were trekking up the North Mountain, a popular peak in the backlands in a Shaftlands national park. The snow was more than seven feet deep, and even with their specialized snow shoes they were starting to sink down. They were on the far side of the mountain, bright sunlight blazing across the snow that had been churned up from a recent avalanche.

“What’s up, chief?” One of the rescue workers asked, readjusting his EMT pack on his shoulders.

Jack’s ears twitched, trying to pick up the sound he was sure he had just heard. He turned back to his team. “This is the last place the skiers were seen. Everybody fan out to your lanes and start searching.”

The group spread out, each taking a 40 meter lane as they walked downhill. Each member of the search and rescue team held a thermal meter reader, strong enough to pierce through the snow cover up to 15 meters down. They also inspected the snow for any other sign of disturbance, trying to see if anyone was moving underneath.

Jack’s ears twitched again, picking up on the minute noise underneath him. He checked his reader, seeing an orange mass that was quickly turning blue.

“Spotted, 35 meters!” He called out. He unfurled a long thin pole from his pack, carefully jabbing down into the snow. When he met resistance, he slung his pack off and put together his collapsible shovel. He started scooping snow away, flakes swirling up to stick against his eyelashes. Finally about three feet down, he saw a splash of a red coat. He widened his digging circle. “Victim found!”

The most important thing at the moment was getting the buried person an airway. Jack heaved snow away, using his hands now so he wouldn’t accidentally injure the victim. He heard another one of the rescuers repeat his cry further down, “Victim found!”

Jack could see the victim breathing, their breath melting a small indent around their nose and mouth. Jack ripped off his glove with his teeth, feeling for a pulse on their neck. It was faint, but it was there. He couldn’t see any visible wounds. The next most important part was getting them out of the snow while moving them as little as possible in case there were any internal or spine related injuries.

Another rescuer came over to him. “My lane’s clear, sir. Can I help?”

Jack nodded. “Go get the sled and stabilizing bands.” He saluted, making his way back up. Their team worked with dogsleds for evacuation in these parts, since it was generally less heavy than a snowmobile, and much quieter to avoid any other disruptions.

Soon, the three missing skiers were loaded up in the sleds. Jack ran through his paramedic training in his head, making sure he and his team weren’t missing anything before they would head back to their base at the foot of the mountain.

Arriving down, the team moved the victims, two of whom were coming back to consciousness, into a more comfortable and much warmer infirmary. The hospital in the nearby town had already been notified and was sending an ambulance to bring them back for further care.

After making sure everyone was stable and the victims were being treated for any signs of hypothermia, Jack stepped into the mudroom attached to their rescue station, shaking his head and stomping his boots free from snow.

“The ambulance will be here in about half an hour,” He heard behind him. He turned, seeing (Y/N) in the doorway, holding a steaming mug of pear tea. She wore a uniform similar to his, indicating they were part park ranger, part emergency rescue team. She smiled softly and handed it to him. “They said they had to take a different route around due to the avalanche. I guess it went farther than we thought.”

Jack sipped the tea, letting the warmth infuse into his muscles. “Once we get these guys taken care of we’ll have to head back out, then. Try to take stock of any damage.”

“The other teams have reported back already. Everyone’s been accounted for. Looks like your lot was in the worst shape. It’s a good thing they have you looking out for them, huh?”

Jack looked away, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, we have a big team. Everyone’s doing their part.”

“And you're the one who trained them. You’re the one who set up this whole search and rescue station. All those people there,” she waved in the direction of the treatment beds, the people pulled out of the snow, slowly warming themselves by the fireplace and with warm drinks. “Owe it all to you. You’re allowed to brag about it sometimes, you know.”

Jack felt his face growing hot, tail starting to wag despite himself under her praise. “Well, maybe I just have a really good team.”

(Y/N) hummed, standing on her tiptoes and reaching a hand up, threading through his short hair to pull his face down to her level. “And I wouldn’t want to be on any one else’s,” She murmured against his lips as they kissed.

Ruggie

Politics were messy. Ruggie always knew that, but being here in the middle of it all showed him the full web of underhandedness, plotting, and secrets. But, as the Sunset Savannah’s royal family’s, or more directly Leona’s, personal spy master, that’s exactly what he was there for.

Now, during his days at NRC, when Ruggie first started working as Leona’s unofficial personal assistant, lurking around, being a little more than underhanded in his dealings, did he ever expect he would one day be sneaking around an embassy in the middle of a grand party, planning on swiping some important documents that could reveal plots against the crown? No, of course not. But, man, was it still fun.

As he slunk along the corridors, Ruggie eyed the attendance, each dripping with enough jewelry and finery to feed a family of four for a year. He inwardly sneered, hand shooting out to discreetly pocket a diamond bracelet some ambassador's wife, or more likely his mistress, was wearing. But ill gotten treasure wasn’t what he was here for, at least, not today.

Ruggie cut through a servant’s entrance, turning his coat inside out, turning it from red velvet of party goers to the matte black of the help. He thought it was too easy sometimes. People always saw what they wanted to see. Heading up to the upper floors of the embassy, he spied some hired goons waltzing around the room he needed to enter. Ruggie stayed as far back in the shadows as he could while tracking the one guard who stood a little too close to the stairs.

“Laugh with me,” Ruggie murmured, casting his signature spell. He jerked his body to the side, causing the goon to stumble and crash down the stairs. To anyone else, it would have looked like he had too much to drink on the job, or had simply slipped. As the other guards were busy checking with their companion, Ruggie darted behind them, slipping into the room unseen. He made quick work, sniffing out the hidden safe, and picked the lock so easily he was almost afraid he was being set up. Securing the documents in the hidden pocket inside his jacket, Ruggie effortlessly slipped out the window, down the drive, and off into the night.

Later that night, Ruggie shook off the rain as he stepped inside the lobby of Granny Bucchi’s Memorial Home for Lost Children. It was dark, everyone fast asleep upstairs. In the morning, all the children the Home housed would wake up, eat a hearty breakfast, one Ruggie could have only ever dreamed about at their age, and go to school in the attached building. Ruggie didn’t know exactly what strings Leona pulled to get such high class teachers for the Home, but he had learned long ago not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As Ruggie was about to head up the stairs to the caretaker's quarters, he noticed the lamp light coming from the side sitting room. Ruggie carefully stalked over to the other room, careful to avoid the floor boards that squeaked. He peered in, the warm light of a floor lamp illuminating (Y/N) on a rocking chair, a toddler hyena beastman fast asleep on her chest. Ruggie leaned against the doorframe, smiling gently at the domestic scene.

(Y/N) stirred, af if sensing being watched. She blinked sleepily, smiling up at him. “Welcome home,” She whispered. “Everything go well?”

(Y/N) knew just enough about Ruggie’s work, but never pried. They both knew well enough that Ruggie would immediately spill any secrets if she fluttered her eyelashes and gave him one of those sweet smiles. “Flawless, as usual.” He stepped forward, taking the small boy from her arms. His ears twitched as he was passed between them but stayed asleep.

“He’s finally been sleeping through the night,” (Y/N) said. “But he had a nightmare earlier. He wanted to wait for you to get home.”

“Aww, A for effort.”

They walked upstairs to the children’s dormitory rooms, settling the small boy in his bed and tucking the blankets over him.

“They’re having their field day tomorrow,” (Y/N) said as they entered their shared room. She sat on the bed as Ruggie kicked off his shoes. “Will you be here? The kids always love to see you.”

He flopped down on the bed next to her with a sigh, arms behind his head. “Wouldn’t miss it! It’s amazing how much energy those kiddos have. You think we were ever like that?”

“Me? No, probably not. I can see you zipping around everywhere, though.”

“Oh, yeah, I was fleet footed. You gotta be quick to pick pockets, you know.” She halfheartedly punched him as he snickered.

“Do you ever think-?” She stared before cutting herself off.

“Only sometimes,” He joked. “I hear it’s a dangerous habit.” He waited for a moment then asked, “Think about what?”

(Y/N) looked back in the direction of the children’s dormitory, each level for a set of age groups from the babies all the way to the teenagers. “You know, about having our own.”

Azul

Azul flitted around the room, jumping from conversation to conversion, getting just enough of a word in to be memorable, to make a good impression. So far, this, the grand opening of the Mostro Lounge, was a success. More than a success, it had drawn all ilk of upper crust society. Politicians, celebrities, heirs and heiresses with nothing better to do but try and get their picture in the next tabloid. Horderves were being passed, champagne was being popped, and, subtly, between it all, waiters were gathering secrets and snips of conversations from their patrons.

The Monstro Lounge worked on two fronts, both carefully cultivated and maintained. The first was the face, the elegant restaurant and tea room that welcomed guests to treat them with all the luxury of the world. The second was more nefarious, the dagger hidden behind the back. Important clientele meant important discussions, important secrets, and important dealings. Whether or not these things were entirely legal didn’t much matter to Azul, just so long as he was in on them.

It was important that at least most of their patrons didn’t notice the dagger. It was better for them to let their guard down, enjoy their night of revelry and relaxation. And Azul, with his charming smile, silver tongue, and perfectly business-like attitude, acted as the perfect cover.

Azul was mingling with a group of bankers when he felt a gentle hand clasp his arm. “Excuse me,” (Y/N) said. “I’m afraid I need to steal my fiance for a moment.” The bankers held up their glasses in a cheers as she led him away. She glittered in a black sequin dress, pearls at her throat. On her hand was a delicate pearl and pink coral ring, the coral arranged like flower petals around the pearl.

“Is anything wrong, angelfish?” Azul asked as they strolled through the lobby.

(Y/N) hummed. “Maybe I just wanted some time with you. I’m allowed to be selfish like that every once and a while, aren't I?”

“Of course. I think I like when you’re selfish.”

An ignorant observer might have commented that (Y/N) made quite the trophy on Azul’s arm, but those in the know were quick to correct any misconceptions. (Y/N) was just in touch with both sides of the Monstro Lounge as Azul, just as involved. If any of Azul’s more unscrupulous dealings or shady past came up, it was easy for one to dismiss pressing concerns. After all, look at his soon-to-be wife! (Y/N) was more than capable of smoothing over any worries or uneasy feelings. And, possibly more importantly, keeping some of Azul’s more underhanded ambitions in check.

“Zuzu!” Azul nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard his mother’s voice. (Y/N) took a skilled step back to allow room for Mrs. Ashengrotto to envelope Azul in the kind of hug only a proud mother could give. Of course, the hug was missing a few limbs since Mrs. Ashengrotto was currently in human form, but it was still just as tight. She kissed both his cheeks and, while Azul was always happy to see his mother and show off his accomplishments, he couldn’t help but cringe at how the act tainted the elegant and stern reputation he was building for himself. Releasing him, she turned to her soon-to-be daughter-in-law. (Y/N) accepted her hug with a little more grace, the benefit of seeing an affectionate attack coming.

Azul readjusted his glasses, greeting his mother and step-father. “I’m glad you both were able to make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” His step-father said, giving him a firm handshake and warm pat on the back.

His mother had started to tear up, (Y/N) patting her hand sympathetically. “Oh, my. My little Azul, all grown up. I remember when you were just a little fry, darting in your octopot at anything. Look how big my boy has gotten! Have you been eating well, Zuzu? You look so thin!”

“Why don’t we grab a table?” (Y/N) neatly interjected. Azul cast her a grateful look and quickly waved a waiter over who brought the small group to a VIP section. An aquarium that took up the entire back wall cast elegant blue light over the private section.

After the waiter took their drink order, Mrs. Ashengrotto laid her hands flat on the table, looking seriously at Azul and (Y/N). “Now,” She said. “When can I expect grandchildren?”

Jade

“Anglerfish,” (Y/N) said.

Jade grinned, turning back to her as he held his lantern high. “What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

Jade smiled, looked down at (Y/N) as she zipped their tent closed. The cool spring night air swirled around them, moon bright and sky clear.

While Jade mostly lived in the Coral Sea, studying with his parents to prepare to take over the family business, part of his heart would always remain up in the mountains. He’d published a book last year, Roots of the Earth: Flora, Fauna, and Folklore of the Bald Mountains, which had become a bestseller almost overnight. In depth discussions and depictions of dry land environments were apparently pretty popular underwater. His publisher had been eager for a follow up. Which led him here, camping in the Mount Moln mountain range, ready to set off on an overnight exploration.

He didn’t, however, expect certain company. Not that he minded (Y/N)’s presence. Quite the opposite in fact.

While she hadn’t been an official member of the Mountain Lovers club back at NRC, she had participated in a few hiking trips, whenever her schedule, or Crowley, would allow. They hadn’t seen much of each other in person since Jade graduated, but they did exchange correspondence regularly. Jade knew that (Y/N) kept up with everyone from NRC in a similar fashion, but couldn’t help hoping that his particular letters were a little special. At least, the ones he sent back to her were.

When Jade had arrived in Harveston the day before his expedition, he was surprised to see her with the lilac haired Felmier family. (Y/N) had cried in delight and thrown her arms around him, making his heart speed up in a not unpleasant way. Over tea, (Y/N) had told him that she had mostly been jumping around Twisted Wonderland, still trying to find a more permanent place in a land she wasn't native to. With the apple planting season coming up, Epel’s family had offered a position, one she had eagerly accepted. And, when he slyly implied that he would need assistance traversing the mountain and keeping track of his gear and research, she had enthusiastically agreed. They both decided to ignore the knowing glances from Grandma Felmier.

They had risen before the sun that next morning, beginning their trek up Mount Moln. While the weather was defiantly warming, small clumps of snow still stubbornly clung on the higher they climbed. They’d made camp early, with the sun still up, digging into warm soup the Felmier’s had prepared for them, before turning in. They knew they would be getting up in the middle of the night, so they tried to get as much sleep as possible beforehand.

Which brought them back to the present, Jade sweeping his lantern across the trail with (Y/N) staying close behind.

“So,” (Y/N) said. “Remind me what we’re looking for?”

“Panellus pusillus,” Jade said. “Otherwise known as the little ping-pong bat mushroom.”

(Y/N) snorted a laugh. “That’s pretty cute.”

“They are bioluminescent. During the day they look like normal white fan-like mushrooms. But at night they glow beautifully. They wrap around tree branches so they often look like string lights. I’ve been wanting to take back a few samples for my project back in the Coral Sea.”

“For your next book?”

“That, and something else. I’ve been working on an underwater biome meant to replicate various ecosystems from the mountains I’ve traversed here on land. It would allow sea-dwellers a chance to experience environments they normally wouldn’t be exposed to. I’m still gathering funds, but I think it will be a fascinating experiment when completed.”

“Sounds like a big undertaking.”

“Definitely.” Jade cast a glance over his shoulder, meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. He quickly looked away again, holding the lantern out a little farther so (Y/N) wouldn’t notice the red tint to his cheeks. He only ever had to worry about that in human form. “I’ve actually been gathering a team to help me set everything up. Having someone native to land would provide a unique perspective. If you would be interested, after your work in the orchards here. I wouldn’t want to impose on any previous commitments.”

“I don’t think you could impose on me even if you wanted to.” Jade stopped, turning around to fully face her. He watched (Y/N) gulp, readying herself, before she took a step forward. They were just a breath apart from each other now. Her hand reached out, stopping between them. “I - I’ve really missed you. I didn’t expect to this much, but then you showed back up and it kind of punched me in the gut all at once. Sorry, I feel like I’m not saying this the right way. But… I really missed you.”

Jade let the silence sink in as his thoughts turned in his head. Crickets, owls, and other night creatures filled the air with their songs. (Y/N) looked down, shuffling her feet. Jade transferred his lantern to his other hand, reaching forward and taking hers.

“My,” He said with a teasing grin. “This is certainly unexpected. Not unwelcome, of course. What would you do if I said I harbored similar feelings?”

Underneath the soft glow of mushrooms overhead, (Y/N) stood on her toes and kissed him.

Floyd

Suffice to say, most people were pretty surprised when Floyd decided to take an engineering course for the first leg of his NRC 4th year internship. With his happy-go-lucky and action-first personality, it was easy to forget that he was surprisingly good with technical skills. Even still, most people assumed he would get bored soon, skipping off to a more physically exciting internship for the next quarter. However, he stayed for the entire year. It definitely helped that the particular engineers he had partnered with specialized in roller coasters.

And now, here he was, standing in the middle of a brand new theme park just a few weeks away from opening. When he had first approached Kalim for funding for his dream project he hadn’t expected much resistance. After all, both boys could appreciate a good time, whether from an over-the-top party or an exhilarating thrill ride.

Floyd’s specific idea was for a theme park both land dwellers and merpeople could enjoy simultaneously. This led to the unique structure of Marine Canyon. The theme park was nestled perfectly in a natural canyon carved out thousands of years ago by glaciers. A slim river still ran through the canyon. Half the park was located in the canyon while the second half descended underneath the water of the sea the river emptied in. Guests would be able to easily traverse either side, either by assistance of underwater breathing potions, temporary form transformation potions, or a clever half-scuba half-submersible vehicle Floyd had designed when (Y/N) first met his parents.

He stood with his hands on his hips, watching the cars roll along the track of one of the premier coasters in a test run. Everything was going perfectly. In a few days, Kalim would be coming out for the last run-through of testing and they would launch for a media day before officially opening the park.

“Papa!”

Floyd turned, wide smile getting even bigger. He crouched down, opening his arms, as one of his sons rushed to meet him. He swept Argonaut up in his arms, spinning him around as the boy cackled. He threw his arms around Floyd’s neck, waving at the two others approaching. (Y/N) waved back, walking over with their other son, Caspian.

“Do we get to ride it now, Papa? Can we, can we?” Argo asked giddy, bouncing up and down.

Cas cast a wary look up at the empty car plunging down the coaster track. “Can we go in the dark ride first? The pirate one?”

Floyd ruffled his hair as (Y/N) answered, “We still have to wait for the safety checks to make sure everything is working properly.”

“But,” Floyd told the twins. “The water park part is ready! And we need testers to make sure it’s fun for humans and mers. Do you know anyone who could help me with that?”

“Me, me, me!”

“We can do that! We’re human and mer!”

The boys wiggled their ways out of their parents arms and dashed off, already kicking off their shoes in anticipation for changing from their dry land form to their eel-mer hybrid form.

“Be careful running!” (Y/N) called after them. She sighed as Floyd came over, wrapping her in a backwards hug and resting his chin on the top of her head. “They really do like going between the land and sea. Do you think they have a favorite form?”

Floyd hummed. “Don’t know. I like both of them. It’s just all different, you know? But they can use both their forms here. They can be with all their family and friends at the same time.”

“Is that why you wanted to build it like this? You’re really kind, aren’t you?”

Floyd grinned. “Only for Shrimpy and the guppies. Don’t let anyone else know, okay? I still have a reputation, you know.”

(Y/N) poked his side. “Ooh, scary Floyd Leech, big bad family man. Don’t think I don’t remember you crying on the boys’ first day of school.”

Floyd sniffed. “My guppies aren’t going to be guppies any more! What am I going to do when they get too big to carry, or when they go to NRC and we can’t see them everyday?”

(Y/N) took his hand and started pulling him in the direction the boys had darted off in. “Then I guess we just need to make the most of the time we have with them now, right?”

Floyd tightened his grip on her hand, smiling wickedly. “Or we could just make more guppies.”

Kalim

“Mr. Al–Asim, I need your signature here, please.”

“Mr. Al-Asim, when would you like to schedule our shareholder meeting?”

“Mr. Al-Asim, I have those reports and next quarter’s budget for you to review.”

Kalim was drained. While he was more than proud that he had managed to expand his family’s business to not only the sea but also the Briar Valley, he didn’t quite anticipate all the paperwork that would come with it. Now that Jamil was off leading his own life outside of the Asim influence, Kalim had taken on more responsibilities. Not that he wasn’t happy for Jamil, of course. He was thrilled when his friend told him of his plans after graduating NRC, even if those plans didn’t directly involve Kalim. Kalim was mostly just happy that Jamil seemed happy. But he did still miss Jamil’s presence, his guidance, how he always knew what to say.

Kalim groaned, falling face first on his bed, not bothering to change clothes. Warm evening sun streamed in from the balcony windows, casting golden rays across the room. (Y/N) blinked at him from her side of the bed, sliding a bookmark in her book. She leaned over to him, gently petting his hair.

“Rough day?” She asked.

Kalim groaned again, twisting to catch (Y/N) in his arms so they crashed down together in a tangled hug. “There’s so much paperwork!” He lamented. “Why do we still even have so much paper? Isn’t it better for the environment if we use digital or something?” He sniffed, eyes watery. “Just think of all those birds whose trees we cut down.”

“With great accomplishment comes great busy work,” (Y/N) nodded sagely. “It just shows how much so many people are relying on you.”

“I guess,” Kamil muttered into her hair. He suddenly perked up. “Oh! I own the company, so maybe I can just tell everyone they have the day off tomorrow!”

“Maybe, but then you and everyone else would just have a backlog of work when they come back.”

Kalim face planted back onto the bed. (Y/N) regarded him for a moment before sliding out of bed. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Kalim gave a half-hearted thumbs up.

As (Y/N) padded out of the room, Kalim kicked his shoes off, curling up on the bed. He grabbed her plush pillow, holding it to his chest. Hints of her fragrant shampoo still clung to it.

Kalim didn’t think he could ever really express how grateful he was to have (Y/N) with him. Not only had she worked hard to repair his and Jamil’s relationship at NRC, but she gave him the in that helped him bring the Asim name to the Briar Valley in the first place. The land of night fairies was notoriously difficult to expand foreign trade to. But (Y/N) with her easy way of making friends and stubborn determination had given him the connections he needed to do something no other Asim had. He signed again, happily this time. It was just another reason he was so glad that she was going to marry him.

(Y/N) nudged the door open with her hip. She carried a large silver tray holding a pot of spiced hot chocolate and several small plates with cake slices. “We still need to choose a wedding cake flavor,” She said. “Your mom has been asking me about finalizing details. We’re going to look at takchitas this weekend.”

Kalim popped back up, a wave of fresh energy zipping through him. A party! This he could do. Not just any party, but possibly the most important party of his life! He and (Y/N) spent the next hour discussing wedding plans, colors and flowers and music. In between, they would eat bites of cake, chocolate, champagne strawberry, vanilla with raspberry filling, orange olive oil. At one point, Kalim smeared some frosting on his nose. At her laughing, Kalim took a forkful of fluffy buttercream and painted it across her nose. They collapsed together in a giggling fit.

“How about I come with you tomorrow?” (Y/N) asked. “I should start learning everything anyway. I want to be helpful to you.”

“You’re always helpful! Look, I'm feeling way better already!”

“I think that might be the sugar rush.”

As the sun set, the two of them lay together, crumbs of cake and the empty chocolate pot soon forgotten. As (Y/N) fell asleep in Kalim’s arms, he quietly said, “I can’t wait to be married to you, azizati.”

Jamil

The air conditioning in the dance studio had gone out a few days ago and it quickly became sweltering with the aerobic activity. (Y/N) had drug in a large swiveling electric fan at some point that was working overtime to try and cool the room. Jamil whipped sweat off his forehead, watching the soon to debut idol group run through their routine again. Jamil had been working as the lead choreographer for Corona Talent for about a year now. While the agency was still relatively small, they were picking up preeminence, especially with their stylized music videos.

“Figaro,” Jamil said to a cat beastman with black and white hair. “You need to work on controlling your tail. Having it flick around like that makes you look nervous. Sebastian, I know you’re still getting used to your land legs but remember to not lock up your knees, it makes you jerk and you’re more likely to fall. Let’s go back to just before the switch line and take it again.”

While Jamil’s teaching style could easily be described as strict, no one could deny his results and the quick time in which he produced them.

A little while later, and combating fears of overheating, Jamil called a water break. The group of boys formed a semicircle around the fan waiting for it to oscillate over their faces. Jamil watched them chat in benign amusement. They were about as old as he had been during the Song and Dance Championship at NRC. Jamil would never admit it, but he had recycled some of Vil’s methods during their training in the Ramshackle dorm.

And speaking of NRC, his phone pinged. Jamil knew who it was before he even looked at the screen.

Kalim: Jamil! I had an idea for the wedding! What if we have a grand entrance with you riding an elephant?

Jamil: You know (Y/N) and I aren’t even engaged yet.

Kalim: I’m planning ahead! It’s good to be ready.

Jamil: No elephants.

Kalim: What about peacocks? Or birds that warble on key? Or a tiger!

Jamil: Do I even want to know where you’re getting these animals?

Kalim: ~Secret~

Jamil laughed under his breath. Ever since he and (Y/N) had started dating during her last year at NRC, Kalim had basically been planning their wedding. When he had given Jamil two tickets on a week-long river cruise for his birthday last year he had called it a pre-honeymoon.

And speaking of…

Jamil’s phone pinged again with a video attachment from (Y/N). The video showed (Y/N) next to a perch with a red and green macaw parrot. “Come on, Alfie,” (Y/N) prompted. “Show Dad your new trick.”

The parrot tilted his head to think for a moment before tilting to the side and raising a claw in a wave. “Love Dad!” It croaked. He then started vocalizing to the tune of one of the first songs Jamil choreographed for, bobbing his head and side stepping. (Y/N) hummed along, nodding encouragingly. The macaw stretched his wings wide and gave a victorious cry.

“Good job, Alfie!” (Y/N) praised, giving him a treat. Alfie shuffled onto her shoulder, nibbling the treat. “See you soon, Jamil. Love you.” (Y/N) blew a kiss to the screen, Alfie mimicking the sound. The video ended on a still frame of (Y/N)’s smiling face. Jamile smiled, content. Warmth, having nothing to do with the heat of the studio, filling his chest.

“Ooh,” One of the idol’s said, wiggling his eyebrows in Jamil’s direction. “Was that your girlfriend, Coach?” The other boys cooed and whooping in good natured teasing.

“Alright, Sven,” Jamil said, standing back up. “You just earned everyone another round of drills. Come on, on your marks.”

The boys groaned, taking their places. As they began stretching and doing calf raises, Jamil texted Kalim.

Jamil: Do you still have that jeweler’s number?

Kalim: :D

Vil

Vil double checked his lipstick in a compact mirror from the backseat of the limo. His eyes cut across the back cab to (Y/N) fiddling with the hem of her dress. “Stop fidgeting,” He said. “You’ll wrinkle your dress.”

(Y/N) jumped, smoothing her dress. “Sorry, just nervous, I guess.”

“Nerves cause wrinkles, too. Besides, there’s nothing to fret over. Star Crossed is destined to be a hit.”

Star Crossed was to be Vil’s first directorial debut, with (Y/N) taking a lead writing role for the script. The idea had come when the two had been discussing media back from (Y/N)’s world during one of Vil’s photoshoots. (Y/N) had been acting as somewhat of an unofficial assistant then. Although, and Vil would never admit this, he more just wanted an excuse to have her around. As they talked, (Y/N) made references to classic story ideas shared between both worlds, focusing on ideas of forbidden love. She gave a lyrical and poetic soliloquy, one that Vil immediately latched on to. She explained it was from a play called Romeo and Juliet, one of the most famous plays in her world and a story that had been retold countless times. She said it was standard school curriculum in her world and had memorized several passages for homework. Canceling the very hard to get dinner reservations the two had, they instead worked deep into the night, reworking the romantic tragedy between their two world’s cultural differences, writing the first draft of what would end up becoming Star Crossed.

“What if they don’t like the ending?” (Y/N) worried.

“Then they’re fools with no sense of depth.”

“But won’t that look bad for you? I don’t want a box office bomb to affect your career.”

“I assure you, nothing I’m associated with could bomb.” Although Vil wasn’t in the starring role for this film, instead preferring to focus on directing, he did keep a cameo as the rewritten Prince of Veronia, now the Prince of Fleur City.

“We kept a lot of the traditional language,” (Y/N) continued as if she hadn’t heard Vil. She looked out the window, the tall buildings and bustling crowds as they got closer to the theater. “Not word for word of the monologue, but still. You don’t think it was too old-fashioned or metaphorical?”

“Sweet potato, we’re going to the premier, you know. It’s a little late to be thinking about rewrites.”

(Y/N) sighed again, flattening her hands against her lap. “Yeah, you're right. The costumes were amazing, though.”

“That’s thanks to you as well, you know. Professor Crewel wouldn’t be willing to design for just anyone.”

(Y/N) smiled weakly. She fidgeted in her seat. She switched sides to sit next to Vil instead of across from him. He raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“Vil,” She said, choosing her words carefully. “I really liked working with you on this.”

“Well, you’re not the worst person to collaborate with either, (Y/N).”

“Would you want to, I mean, maybe later if you don’t have other projects already lined up, do you want to work together again? I mean, there’s a ton of Shakespeare plays. I don’t know all of them by heart or anything, but I know a good couple. Hamlet is dramatic with political intrigue, Much Ado About Nothing is a romantic comedy, A Midsummer Night’s Dream is another romantic comedy with magic and everyone falling in love with the wrong person, well, that one has fairies so I don’t want to offend anyone or anything, oh, and Macbeth is all dark about going mad with power - people said it was cursed back in my world even if we didn’t have real curses, it was just something people said, you know, but I was also thinking maybe we could do others like Pride and Prejudice or if you want to do something completely different there’s this series called Star Wars that-”

Vil abruptly cut off (Y/N)’s ramblings with a kiss. There, in the back of the limo, it was just the two of them, alone in the world. No fans, no expectations, no competitions. Just them, and a warm growing feeling between them.

Vil pulled back, taking a moment to appreciate (Y/N)’s dazed face and bewildered smile. “I would love to work with you again, (Y/N). I’m not sure I would ever want to work with anyone else. Come, we’re here.”

An attendant opened the door of their limo, the roar of fans and flashing lights breaking the stillness on the cab. Vil stepped out in one graceful movement, lifting a hand in greeting. A red carpet stretched out before them, littered with other actors from the movie or celebrities there to give support. Vil leaned back, offering (Y/N) his hand. She stepped out of the cab, blinking at the sudden lights.

Vil tucked her arm through his, whispering, “Stick with me. I’m certain we can get through anything together.”

Rook

Rook flicked on his flashlight, illuminating the cavernous chamber. His team of archaeologists and researchers followed behind him, sliding down a rope through a ventilation shaft into the long buried and forgotten temple underneath an old gnarled tree.

“Is it what you thought it was, Hunt?” A fellow archaeologist asked him, shining her own light around the foreboding space.

“I’m not sure yet,” He replied. “But I think… Ah ha!” Rook cheered, bounding over to the far wall. He took out his magical pen, casting a fire spell into a trough of dark liquid that ran the perimeter of the chamber. It caught alight, flooding the room to showcase the detailed carvings and relief work decorated on the walls. The team gasped, immediately taking detailed notes of the pictographs and images. Carvings of mermaids in a grotto, a pirate ship looming off the coast of a tropical island, and what appeared to be a flying boy with his arms outstretched were just a few of the designs that had been painted and carved on the walls millennium ago.

“Magnifique!” Rook breathed in awe. “The Temple of the Second Star! Just as we thought!”

“Just as you thought, sir,” A stoat beast-man researched said. “Your instincts were spot on again.”

Rook preened but brushed off the comment. “Non, non, we’ve all put so much work into this discovery. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished, n’est-ce pas? But, we’ve only begun our exploration. There’s something very important here I need to find.”

“Is that safe, sir?” The archaeologist asked him. “We haven’t mapped anything out yet, who knows what it’s like down there?” She nodded her head to a dark doorway leading further into the temple.

“Ah, but what is our profession without the allure of danger? Allons-y!” Leaving the others to their detail oriented inspection, Rook bound down the adjoining hall into the depths of the temple.

Rook traveled down the halls, stopping only briefly to poke his head in adjoining rooms, none of which held what he was looking for. He paused every so often, checking a trap or pitfall that had been left how many hundreds of years ago. Finally, he came to a split in the corridors.

“Hmm,” He muttered to himself. “I believe it was… Second star to the right.” He chose the right passage.

The passage led him to a large stone door, once more inlaid with gem studded pictographs. “Ah,” he said. “A clever lock. Let’s see if I’m more clever.” He looked closely at the depictions. A group of four children flying over a cityscape, a towering clock with a large round face, a sun and moon arranged on either side, and, of course, the signature stars. He noticed several of the gem motifs could be moved. He suspected the right one would unlock the door, while the others might lead to disaster. And, as thrilled as he was to see what kind of disaster it could be, he was on a mission. “Second star to the right,” He said to himself again. “And straight on till morning!” He adjusted the hour hand on the clock face, changing it from pointing at the moon to the sun. A mechanism groaned and the door slowly fell open.

He swished his flashlights around the chamber. It was littered with jars upon jars on a sparkling yellow dust. He tapped the glass on one of the jars, feeling lighter, his hair floating around him. And, while this was a fascinating discovery, and he would definitely have to report back to the Roi de Dragons that their study of ancient fairy lore had been a success, there was something more valuable than pixie dust he was after. There, in the center of the room, was exactly what he was looking for. An acorn and thimble dangling off a delicate chain - the ancient symbols of a pure kiss.

As Rook turned to confront the mechanical crocodile that had emerged from its hiding place, a clock ticking in its chest, he tucked the treasure into his pocket. He shrugged his bow from his shoulder, knocking an arrow, thinking about how beautiful the necklace would look on (Y/N) when he proposed to her.

Epel

Epel undid his tie for the third time. Nothing was looking right. Should he keep his hair up like this, in a high ponytail that cascaded down his back? Was his suit not fitting right, stretching over muscles he had worked so hard for so long for?

That was one thing directors loved about him, how he could flip from appearing sweet and docile to ablaze with righteous fury in a second. It helped boost his popularity at the box office, his latest action movie breaking records. But that limelight also came with its drawbacks. Like how today, possibly one of the most important days of his entire life, Epel had been distracted with checking with security at every odd occurrence. They had already kicked out a couple of unscrupulous paparazzi the other day. Epel was glad he was back in Harveston for something so monumental, surrounded by his family, but he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the strain he was putting them all through. But they would always wave him off with smiles, saying that it was the least they could do for all the publicity he had brought to their farms. And besides, what was family for, if not to lend a hand on your wedding day?

There was a knock and the door opened before Epel could reply. Vil stepped in, checking a clipboard with a meticulously maintained schedule. “The cake finally got here, thank the Seven,” he said. “Everyone’s taking their seat. I knew people would be late - that’s why you put the ceremony time on the invitation a half hour before you actually want it to start. Now we just need to-” He stopped, looking up, and glared at the cloth around Epel’s neck like he had glared at Epel himself so many times during their NRC days. Vil sighed, setting the clipboard down and pulling at Epel’s tie. “Honestly, have none of my lessons stuck with you?”

Epel felt a momentary sense of pride against the scolding as Vil had to look up to speak with him. “Nothing looked right,” He said. “I wanted it to, you know, look right.”

Vil hummed. “Are you sure that’s what this is about?” Epel didn’t reply. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you? I’ve never known you to be one who runs away from problems.”

“No, never!”

Vil gave a final tug on the eldredge knot. “Well, that’s the only thing that matters, isn’t it?” He gave one of his rare sincere smiles. “And she chose you, Epel. Remember that.”

Epel shrugged. “It’s a lot to live up to.”

“And you’ll rush to meet those expectations with flying colors. Now hurry up, we have a schedule to keep.”

They had set the ceremony space in the middle of the apple orchard. Soft pink apple blossom petals swirled around the air, beautiful organic confetti cascading over each guest as they took their seat in the circular audience. Epel looked around, smiling back at friends and family beaming at him. His mother hadn’t stopped crying happy tears since before breakfast that morning. His grandmother reached out and squeezed his hand as he walked past.

A group of local boys had been recruited to play music for the wedding. As Epel took his spot under the flowery arch up front, they began playing. Epel felt his heart thundering in his chest, jumping like a jackrabbit. He felt more nervous now than he did at his first premier.

Everyone stood, looking towards the back of the aisle as the bride started to walk down, billowing white dress, cascading flower bouquet, lace veil covering her face. It felt like forever, Epel transfixed. She stepped up to the alter and Epel gently lifted the veil away from her face. (Y/N) smiled up at him.

“Dearly beloved,” The officiant started. Before he could get another word in, Epel surged forward, kissing his bride. (Y/N) started laughing, wrapping her arms around him to return the kiss.

“Hey!” Vil called jovially from the crowd. “You’re ahead of schedule!”

Idia

Idia was curled up on the couch, the room dark, light from the three computer screens in front of him illuminating the space and searing his eyes. He chewed on his bottom lip, writing code only to immediately delete it.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. Blinking away dark spots in his vision, he glanced over at the left computer screen where he had taped a photo of Ortho and their parents. Ortho was wearing a director’s coat, showing off for the camera. Idia smiled, straightening the photo. At the time, when Ortho had volunteered for the position of S.T.Y.X. junior director in Idia’s place, Idia didn’t expect the rush of relief that swept through him. It had been about a year so far and the two brothers talked almost every night, Ortho regaling him with stories of new advancements and studies they had made, his enthusiasm peaked in every word.

But what Idia hadn’t expected was the sudden sense of helplessness, like he’d been cut free of some invisible tether. He’d just hang around for a while, working in this tech company, that cyber security industry, before he got bored. He was able to improve every company by leaps and bounds before deciding to drop it and head somewhere else whenever the mood took him. A few military weapons companies had tried to recruit him, but he’d swiftly rejected their offers.

Eventually, a small group of eager indie video game developers had reached out in an email he had almost deleted without reading. He knew a few of the names from discussion boards on Star Rogue fan sites. They asked if he had wanted to join them for a new project and, having nothing else pressingly important going on, he’d agreed. Soon, however, he’d found himself absolutely engrossed with the game, bringing in more money and resources than any of the other teams members had ever seen for a similar project.

And now, here he was. Stuck. The team couldn’t figure out their next steps, couldn’t solve problems with the set up and coding. They had hit a wall. Idia had hit a wall.

He heard movement from the bed behind him, a sigh of someone waking up. “Idia?” A sleep addled voice called. He didn’t move, fingers clacking on the keyboard. He heard movement behind him, getting out of bed and dragging the blankets with them.

(Y/N) tumbled onto the couch next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You said you were going to come to bed like,” She squinted at the clock. “Four hours ago. Idia! You need sleep!”

“Want to get this done,” He mumbled back.

“It’ll still be there in the morning.”

“I have to work on it now or I’ll lose momentum.”

“You’ll lose your eyes if you keep working in the dark like this. And I like your eyes. And your hair. And your smile. And your-”

“This code is a total mess. It’s full of redundancies. There’s an explote here that would basically make you able to walk through any wall no problem. And they’re focused too much on feature creep, it’s like they want to add a cool new gimmick every day. Like, yeah, connecting to the microphone during the stealth section so if the player is loud the enemies can find them easier is cool, but it’s only in that one part of the game and it’s making a whole bunch of unnecessary complications. Or there’s this part with the poisoning spell basically breaks the game if you unlock it too early. Or this part with the character modeling where-”

“Idia!” Idia startled, blinking at (Y/N). “Your girlfriend is asking you to come to bed with her.”

Idia’s hair immediately burned bright pink. “Oh, yeah, okay.”

Silver

Silver rolled his shoulders, adjusting the weight of his heavy armor. He was in a tent, getting ready for his bout of jousting for an annual tournament in the Briar Valley. This wasn’t the first tournament he’d participated in, of course, but there was always a nervousness that built up in his stomach, an eagerness to prove himself as worthy of being Malleus’s retainer, Lillia’s son, a loyal knight of the fae kingdom.

“Knock, knock.” He turned to the front flaps of the tent. (Y/N) pulled aside one of the flaps, sticking her head inside. “Sorry, there’s not really a place to actually knock or ring a bell or anything…” She cleared her throat, stepping inside. She wore a traditional Briar Valley dress. “Wow,” She breathed, taking in Silver in his armor. “You look like a real knight! Not that you aren’t, usually, I mean. It’s just really formal now I guess. I’ve been able to see everything from up in the royal viewing box with Hornton and Lillia. It’s great watching you and Sebek, competing and everything. It’s like a whole Renaissance fair out there.”

Silver set down his helmet. “Is that something from your world?”

She nodded. “I’ll have to tell you about it some time. They were always fun.” She looked away nervously, trying to find the right words to say. “There was this kind of tradition, at the Renaissance fairs, for knights. I think it went back to medieval history in my world. I was hoping you could help me with it.”

“Of course,” Silver said. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them, gently reaching out to take her elbow and turn her back to him. They were so close their bodies nearly brushed each other. “Whatever you need.”

She hesitated for another second before reaching up and pulling a ribbon out of her hair. He noticed it was (favorite color) instead of a matching shade to her outfit. “When knights would go for tournaments, they would wear a token or flag from their partner. It’s for good luck or something.” She twisted the ribbon around her fingers, not meeting his eyes. “I was hoping…”

Silver untangled the ribbon from her hands, tying it around his forearm. He felt a swell of pride at how it stood out from his armor, gently waving in the breeze. “I’d be honored,” He said. “To wear your token.”

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up, a smile blossoming on her face. “Okay, yeah, sure, of course! I’m glad you like it.” She pressed her lips together, considering something, before adding. “Would it be okay if I gave you another token? For good luck. Not that you need it or anything, you’re going to be great.”

Silver smiled at her nervous deflection. “I’d love anything from you.”

(Y/N) looked around nervously again, fiddling with her fingers. Just as Silver was about to speak, she reached up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him down for a kiss.

Lilia

Lilia leaned against the railing of the barge, watching the glowing red lanterns float gently above the river, their reflections casting ruby ghosts against the dark water below. The Floating Lantern Festival in the Land of Red Dragons never failed to excite, but this year was especially memorable.

“It’s even more beautiful that you describe it,” (Y/N) breathed in awe next to him, stretching out over the barge railing to take in every sight and sound around them. Her eyes trailed the parade along the banks of the river, party goers dressed in red hanfu carrying more lanterns and a long red paper dragon on tall sticks.

“The best stories are the ones you experience in person,” He said.

They’d been traveling together for a while now, by boat, by train, on foot, exploring the whole world. (Y/N) had always been bothered that she had no frame of reference for the world of Twisted Wonderland, no practical understanding of its cultures and countries. Lilia tried to alleviate some of her frustrations with stories about his numerous travels before finally deciding a more hands-on presentation would be a better fit.

Lilia snuck up behind her as she marveled at the lanterns drifting into the night sky. He suddenly grabbed her shoulders, as if to push her off. She gasped and turned to give him a halfhearted glare as he laughed.

“Well?” Lilia asked. “Do you feel more prepared to conquer the world now?”

(Y/N) frowned. The Land of Red Dragons was meant to be the last stop on their tour. (Y/N) had said she had no real plan for after the journey. While the multitude of friends she had made during her years in school were more than happy to lend her a place to stay during their travels, (Y/N) had confided in Lilia that she felt like she was taking advantage of their good nature if she lingered to long, without finding work or direction in this strange world. Maybe she would return to NRC to see if Crowley had any work for her? (He always did.)

“I mean, I suppose?” She said. “Everything has been so wonderful. It’s almost a shame to be stuck in one place after all this.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “I can see why you like moving around so much.”

Lilia hummed, leaning back against the railing. He turned, considering (Y/N)’s profile, lit against the red glow of the lanterns. He felt himself pause, lost in the marvel of her eyes, full of delight and wonder at everything around them. There was a strange stirring in his chest, one he had experienced multiple times over their journey together, a feeling he hadn’t had in almost 500 years.

Lilia shook his head, trying to reign his focus back in. “You know,” He said, casually. “I’ll be heading back out again soon. Malleus came up with the idea of sending out ambassadors from the Briar Valley, trying to strengthen relationships between fairies and the rest of the world.”

(Y/N) nodded. “That seems like something he would do. You’re going to be the first one, then? It seems like a good job for you.”

“Not necessarily the first.” (Y/N) turned to look at him and Lilia felt himself squirm under her direct gaze. Goodness, he would have thought he was a lovestruck teen of 200 years by the way he was acting. “I proposed that you should join me as an ambassador. I thought it might make things easier, having a fellow human to represent dual interests. And, I must admit,” He purposely looked away. “I’ve grown fond of our time together.”

When (Y/N) didn’t reply he looked back at her. She was smiling up at him and he felt his heart stutter. “I’d like that a lot,” She finally said. Which part she didn’t specify. He didn’t need her to.

As they watched the lantern festival continue around them, their hands slid together on the railing, fingers entwining.

Sebek

Sebek’s heart was beating a mile a minute. He knelt in front of Malleus, in the grand throne room, crowds of nobles eagerly watching his knighting ceremony.

Malleus, regal sword in hand, stood over him. “Sebek Zigvolt,” He said, voice echoing around the chamber. “Do you so solemnly swear to uphold the code of knightly honor, to defend the Briar Valley with all your might, your will, and your faithfulness?” “I do,” Sebek replied, trying to keep his voice to a reasonable volume, not letting his giddiness shine through.

“Do you so solemnly swear to serve your king and country and never waver from your duty?”

“I do.”

“And do you so solemnly swear to be truthful to yourself, loyal to your loved ones, and show bravery in the face of doubt and fear?”

“I do!”

Malleus smiled down at his friend, pride for his retainer crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Then, as rightful king and ruler of the land of night fae and the Briar Valley, I hereby dub thee, Sebek Zigvolt, high knight and warrior to the crown.” Malleus lowered his sword against Sebek’s shoulders and the crown of his head. “Stand and receive your blessing.”

Sebek stood, fist thumbing against his chest. Cheers started up from the assembly. Happy tears pricked the corners of Sebek’s eyes, his smile wide as he tried to keep a serious face for the occasion.

After the ceremony, everyone congregated in one of the grand ballrooms of the palace. Sebek stood with his mother, father, and grandfather. His mother was flitting over him, brushing away an invisible speck of dust every other second.

“My darling boy!” She cried. “Look how big you’ve gotten! Oh, you’re so official now! Dear, what happened to our little Sebek?”

“You’ve done a lot of hard work, Sebek,” He father said, nodding proudly. “You should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

“Of course he’s proud,” His grandfather scoffed. “He’s a Zigvolt! Greatness and duty is embedded in our history!”

His mother rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, Papa, so you’ve said many times.” Her eyes cut behind Sebek, smiling and taking hold of either of the two men’s arms. “Well, we wouldn’t want to monopolize your time, Sebek. There are many people who want to congratulate you, after all. Come along, dear, Papa!” Ignoring their protests, his mother dragged them away.

As Sebek waved in a confused good-bye, he felt a thump on his back. “Look at you!” He heard a familiar voice say. “So do I have to call you Sir Zigvolt now or something?” Sebek turned to see (Y/N) beaming up at him. It was surprising enough to see her here, but Sebek’s breath caught in his throat as he saw her dress. Zigvolt colors. She was wearing Zigvolt house colors.

“H-hum- Er, (Y/N)? What are you doing here?”

“Horton invited me! Or, I guess I should say King Malleus here, shouldn’t I? Well, either way, he told me you were having your official knighting ceremony. And I got a letter from your mom, too! She thought it would be a fun surprise to have your friends from school show up to support you.” She indicated one of the banquet tables across the room. Sebek saw Grim, Ace, Deuce, Jack, Ortho, and Epel milling around, all dressed in their own formal wear, catching questioning glances from the various fae knights and nobles.

But they weren’t wearing his house colors. So why was she? And why did it make his heart thrum like that?

A band started up, couples taking their places along the dance floor. “Ah, would you…?” Sebek felt like he could’t find the right words. He couldn’t understand why he was suddenly falling all over himself like this.

(Y/N) clasped his hands in hers. “I’d love to dance! I might not know all the steps, since this seems pretty fancy and formal, but you’ll just have to show me, okay?” Sebek nodded stiffly as she pulled him to the dance floor.

Sebek took one of her hands in his, his other settling on her waist. He felt it burn with the contact. As he swept her along the floor, he finally said, “Your dress…” But couldn’t manage to finish, his thoughts tumbling around. Had it really been so long since graduation? Since he had last seen her? Sure, they had written multiple times, he kept up correspondence with many NRC alumni, but how had she changed this much since then? Had her eyes always shined that way? Was her hair that beautiful? Was her smile that dazzling?

“Oh, your mom lent it to me,” She said. “I didn’t have anything that would fit, so she lent me one of her old ones. Although with all the adjustments I think it might just be mine now. Do you like it?”

“You look like a Zigvolt,” He said.

“Oh.” She seemed surprised at that, heat rising to her face. They turned around the floor a few more times. “You know, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me soon.”

Sebek felt his heart flip. “I’ll have to put up with you more, you mean.”

(Y/N) stifled a laugh and gently hit his chest. “Rude. I mean Horton offered me a position here. Ambassador for human and fairy relations. I’m not totally sure what it will be like next, but he’s given me a townhouse just next door. It’s near your parents, I think. So, you know, I’ll be around. If you ever want to see me or anything. Or I guess if I want to see you, I’ll know where to come to bug you.” She laughed awkwardly.

Sebek unconsciously tightened his grip on her hand. “I think I wouldn’t mind that. It’s a knight’s duty to look after those he cares about, after all.”

Malleus

Malleus turned over in his bed, hands crumpling the sheets next to him. He was in his chambers back in the palace in the Briar Valley. The bed next to him was cold. Cool dawn light was just beginning to spill through his window behind the heavy velvet curtains.

The dreaming Malleus, the one all too aware this was a premonition of a possible future, sighed. He had completed this potion many times, both at NRC and in his private education in the Briar Valley. And, no matter how many times he drunk the noctious concoction, his future always remained the same. A lonely bedchamber, government work, fawning lords and ladies vying for his favor. If he was lucky, he would get to interact with Lilia, Silver, or Sebek. Although he dreaded the times when he could clearly see age lining their faces while he remained the same.

The door to his chamber creaked ever so slightly. Someone was entering. The dream Malleus, the one projected in this future vision, tensed in his bed. The dreaming Malleus, forced to watch everything unfurl, was confused. Was this some sort of half-baked assassination attempt? Had relations between the country of fae and the rest of the world degraded to such an extent under his reign? Was he destanted to watch his own death?

The dream Malleus closed his eyes. There was a sound of soft padding feet, a giggle, then a sharp hush. The intruders were right next to him now.

“Ready?” A voice whispered, familiar but changed with time. “One, two, three…”

“Happy birthday, Papa!”

The dream Malleus opened his eyes, a slow and easy smile crossing his face. The curtains were thrown open, revealing the three young boys standing at his bedside, rosy cheeked, green eyed, and horns curling up from their ebony locks. One of them held a plate stacked high with pancakes, dripping with strawberry syrup. Another held a party popper, which he pulled releasing a torrent of confetti and ribbons. The third held a paper card tightly in his hands, his grip causing it to crumple at the edges.

“Did we wake you up, Papa?” The boy with the card asked in a concerned voice, pouting.

Malleus smiled, sitting up in bed as the young boys climbed up to sit around him. “Not at all, Grimwald. What’s that you have there?”

Grimwald shyly held the card out. Malleus gently pried it from his fingers. It was obviously homemade, colored pencil drawings of a family of five holding hands across the cover, four with Darconia horns crowning their heads. He opened the card. There was a large birthday cake drawing inside, with the words ‘Happy Birthday!’ in large blocky lettering above it. Around the cake, the artists had scribbled their names: Grimwald, Lilianos, and Malachite.

“They wanted to surprise you,” A soft voice said. Malleus, both in and out of the dream, felt his heart skip a beat as (Y/N) came around the bed. She sat down at the edge, catching the plate of pancakes from Malachite so they wouldn’t splatter on the floor. She turned to him, carding her fingers through his hair, and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “Good morning, Horton. Happy birthday.”

“We made them ourselves!” Malachite proudly proclaimed. “Grandpa Lilia showed me how!”

“Don’t worry,” (Y/N) whispered to him. “I supervised.”

“Do you have to work today, Papa?” Lilianos asked. “You can’t ‘cause it’s your birthday, right? You have to stay and play with us today.”

Malleus gathered his boys together so they all fit on the bed. “Birthdays are family days. I’d love nothing more than to spend the entire day hearing about how you’ve been terrorizing the palace.”

“Oh, oh!” Malachite called, hand shooting up. “I breathed fire and it burned up the curtains in the grand dining room!”

(Y/N) looked at him sideways. “On accident, right?”

Malachite blushed. “Yes, Mama.”

“Can we go watch the knights train?” Lilianos asked. “Uncle Sebek and Uncle Silver said they would teach us to ride a horse!”

“Why would you want to ride a horse when you can fly?” Malachite said, spreading his arms wide.

“I want to go to the menagerie,” Grimwald added. They began to talk over each other, making plans for their father’s birthday without his input.

Malleus smiled, watching his family. He turned back to (Y/N). She smiled at him, as glorious and warm as the sun after a year of frozen nights. He reached up, cupping her face, and brought her close.

“I always knew my future would bring me to you.”

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bettys-redwinesupernova · 5 months ago

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WAITING AIN’T EASY

drew starkey x fem!reader

SUMMARY: after 6 gruelling months of long distance with drew, y/n decides to surprise him on set. listen to ‘waiting ain’t easy’ — Evan Honer!!

based on this ask !! i really hope you enjoy my lovely :) amazing ask as always !! i made a little twist on it though, and added some angsty goodness to make it more emotional <3

WARNINGS: angst to fluff, fighting, crying, mentions of breaking up, long distance relationship, like one (?) curse word, brief mention of cheating rumours (made by the media) and i think that’s it? (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

THIRD PERSON +

Y/N stared out at the crashing waves outside her beachfront rental in Australia, the sun dipping low in a painted sky of reds and golds. Normally, she would've snapped a picture to send Drew, knowing how much he loved sunsets. But tonight, her phone sat abandoned on the kitchen counter, vibrating occasionally with notifications she couldn't bring herself to check.

It had been nearly six months since she'd left for Australia to film her new movie, a dream opportunity that she'd accepted with boundless enthusiasm. Drew had been so supportive at first, kissing her forehead and promising her they'd figure it out. "Eight months will fly by," he'd said. "We'll make it work." And for a while, they had.

The first few months had been manageable—late-night FaceTime calls, text messages scattered throughout the day, photos exchanged to make each other smile. But as the weeks turned into months, the strain started to show. The time difference, their conflicting schedules, and the exhaustion from their respective work had turned their once-effortless connection into something fragmented and brittle.

And then there were the rumors.

The first article had popped up about a month ago, with pictures of Y/N and her co-star, Paul Mescal, leaving a restaurant. They'd been with a group of castmates, but the tabloids didn't care about context. The angle made it look intimate, as if the two of them had been alone. Headlines screamed: "New Flame on Set?" and "Trouble in Paradise for Drew Starkey and Y/N?"

Drew hadn't believed the rumors—not really. He knew how tabloids worked. But the seed of doubt had been planted. Their conversations became laced with tension. "Why didn't you tell me you were going out?" Drew had asked one night, his voice tight.

"I didn't think I had to give you a play-by-play of my day," she'd snapped, the exhaustion from a grueling shoot making her sharper than she intended.

"I'm not asking for a play-by-play, Y/N. I just want to know what's going on in your life. Is that too much to ask?"

The fight spiraled from there, unresolved, and left a bitter taste that lingered.

Tonight, their most recent argument had pushed them to a breaking point.

She answered the phone after his third call, her voice strained. "Hey."

"Hey," Drew replied, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the silence that followed.

"I'm sorry I didn't call earlier," she began, trying to preempt his frustration. "I got caught up on set, and—"

"Y/N, you always get caught up on set," Drew interrupted, his tone clipped. "I'm starting to feel like I'm not a priority anymore."

Her heart sank. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it? Because it feels like I'm the only one trying here."

"Trying?" she repeated, her voice rising. "Drew, do you know how hard this has been for me too? I miss you every single day, but I can't just drop everything to cater to your insecurities."

"Insecurities?" he echoed, incredulous. "You're calling me insecure because I want to spend more than five minutes talking to my girlfriend? Because I'm tired of feeling like I'm the last thing on your mind?"

"Don't do this," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Don't twist this into something it's not."

"Then tell me what it is, Y/N," he shot back. "Because right now, it feels like we're falling apart."

Her throat tightened. "Maybe we are," she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Drew exhaled shakily on the other end of the line. "Do you really believe that?"

"I don't know what I believe anymore," she admitted, tears streaming down her face. "This... this isn't what I thought it would be. I didn't think it would hurt this much."

"You think I don't hurt too?" His voice cracked, raw with emotion. "You think I don't lie awake every night wishing you were here? That I don't feel like I'm losing my mind wondering if this is worth it anymore?"

Her chest tightened painfully, but she couldn't find the words to soothe him. To soothe herself. The weight of their love—their pain—pressed down on her like a crushing wave.

"I can't do this right now," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Drew said bitterly, "of course you can't."

And then the line went dead.

Y/N stared at the screen, her hand trembling as the call ended. She wanted to call him back, to take it all back, but the words hung in the air between them, too heavy to ignore.

Halfway across the world in Charleston, Drew sat in his apartment, his phone clutched in his hand. He stared at the empty screen, the echo of their fight replaying in his mind. The silence in the room was deafening, the loneliness suffocating.

They were both alone, yet they'd never felt further apart.

—

Drew sat on set, legs stretched out as he leaned back in his chair, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. The day had been slow, and while he loved working on Outer Banks, his mind wasn't fully there. It hadn't been for weeks. The weight of his argument with Y/N lingered, the harsh words and silence that followed gnawing at him.

He sighed, locking his phone and tossing it onto the nearby table. The OBX cast was scattered around the set, some chatting, others grabbing snacks. Madelyn, Madison and Carlacia were huddled together near the craft services table, giggling about something. Their sudden burst of laughter caught Drew's attention.

"What's so funny?" he called out, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing!" Madison replied quickly, a little too quickly. She nudged Carlacia, who bit her lip to stifle another laugh.

Suspicious, Drew tilted his head but didn't press further. He wasn't in the mood for their antics today. As much as he loved his friends, all he really wanted was Y/N. Six months apart felt like an eternity, and knowing they still had two more months to go made the ache in his chest worse.

What he didn't know was that Y/N was only minutes away.

Y/N stepped off the plane, her heart pounding as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. She had managed to keep the wrap of her film a secret from Drew, wanting to surprise him in the best way possible. It hadn't been easy; she'd had to bite her tongue during their rare phone calls and carefully avoid social media posts that might tip him off.

Madelyn, Madison and Carlacia had been the first people she told about her plan, and they had been more than happy to help. When she landed, they were waiting for her, practically vibrating with excitement.

"You ready to blow his mind?" Madelyn asked, grinning as she pulled Y/N into a hug.

"I've never been more ready," Y/N said, her nerves and excitement warring within her.

Carlacia held up her phone, ready to document everything. "Okay, we've got this all planned. He's sitting in the main lounge area. You just walk in, and we'll follow behind you."

Y/N nodded, exhaling shakily. "Let's do this."

Back on set, Drew was oblivious. The girls had disappeared somewhere, but he didn't think much of it. They were always running off to do their own thing. He leaned forward, rubbing his hands over his face as exhaustion crept in.

The sound of footsteps approaching barely registered until he heard a familiar voice, soft and hesitant.

"Hey, Starkey."

Drew's head whipped around so fast that his chair tipped backward, clattering to the floor. He stumbled to his feet, his heart racing as his eyes locked on her.

"Y/N?" His voice cracked, disbelief written all over his face.

Before she could say another word, Drew launched himself toward her, nearly tripping over his fallen chair in his haste. He reached her in seconds, his arms wrapping tightly around her as he lifted her off the ground.

"Y/N," he choked out, his voice breaking as he buried his face in her shoulder.

She clung to him just as tightly, her arms wrapped around his neck as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Hi, baby," she whispered, her voice shaking.

Drew pulled back just enough to look at her, his face streaked with tears. "You're here? How are you here? I thought—"

"My shoot wrapped early," she interrupted, laughing through her tears. "I wanted to surprise you."

Drew didn't hesitate. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss so full of love and longing that it made Y/N's knees weak. Around them, the cast erupted in exaggerated groans and laughter.

"Get a room!" Rudy teased, shielding his eyes dramatically.

"Y'all are gonna make me cry," Carlacia joked, still filming the entire moment.

When Drew finally pulled away, his forehead rested against Y/N's, his tears falling freely now. "God, I missed you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I missed you so fucking much."

"I missed you too," Y/N said, her hands cupping his face as she brushed away his tears. "I'm so sorry, Drew. For everything. For the fight, for the silence. I hated it. I hated being apart from you."

"Me too," Drew admitted, his voice cracking again. "I was so scared, Y/N. Scared I was losing you."

"Never," she said firmly. "I was scared too, but I never stopped loving you. Not for a second."

Drew let out a shaky laugh, his arms tightening around her as if he were afraid she might disappear. "Waiting ain't easy," he said softly, his eyes searching hers, "but it's worth it for you. Always."

Y/N felt fresh tears well up as she kissed him again, pouring every ounce of love and reassurance she had into it. When they finally broke apart, the cast was clapping and cheering, much to Drew's embarrassment.

"Alright, alright, show's over," Drew said, his cheeks flushed as he waved them off. But he couldn't stop smiling, and his hand never left Y/N's.

Carlacia walked up, showing them the video she had taken. "You two are gonna want this later. It's a tearjerker."

Drew chuckled, pulling Y/N closer. "Thanks, Laci."

As the cast gave them some space, Drew turned to Y/N, his eyes still glistening. "You're really here," he said again, as if he couldn't quite believe it.

"I'm here," she confirmed, her smile soft. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Drew's expression softened, his love for her radiating in his gaze. "Good. Because I don't ever want to do this without you again."

They spent the rest of the day glued to each other, catching up, apologising, and soaking in every second of finally being together again.

For the first time in six months, everything felt right.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such an adorable one to write :’) i love writing hurt/comfort, it’s just my absolute fave genre of ff !! i really hope you enjoy this @xoxosblogsblog <3

#bettys asks !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#drew starkey #outer banks #bettys work !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey obx #drew starkey outer banks #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey angst

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prkhaven · 5 months ago

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(TEASER) MONEY POWER GLORY -l.hs, p.sh-

pairing— athlete!heeseung x journalist fem!reader x athlete!sunghoon

RELEASED READ HERE

status: completed

genre: smut minors do not interact, angst, slight fluff, athlete au, hockey player!sunghoon, basketball player!heeseung, athlete rivalry, p with plot, p with feelings

wc: estimated 20k

taglist: open — send in ask or comment to be added

— full warnings and smut warnings within actual release —

“Our star players”

Staring at the large group picture hanging dead center in front of you, you zeroed in on the two distinct males standing side by side. Both showcasing not even a crack of a smile as they looked straight ahead.

Your soul withered as you took in their gaze.

Shifting over to the male on the left, you could see he was sleek, clothing neatly arranged—draping over his body that accented his proportions perfectly. Slender legs that popped out by the strikes of muscles lining up from his calf all the way up to his knee where a peek of his quads showed hiding beneath the rolled up sweatpants.

The long navy blue sleeved shirt pushed back by his arms resting behind his back, his chest pumping out through the fabric. His face relaxed but stoic but his blaring eyes stared right into yours while the few spec of moles scattered around his face that you were thankful the camera managed to pick up on.

“That’s Park Sunghoon, pretty good looking right?” You felt a jab at your side knocking you out of your daze before looking over to your side at your boss smiling at the picture with a sparkle in her eyes, “Doesn’t really talk much but his career is set to only rise up from here on out”

Looking away from here and back to the picture, you observe to the male on right this time. Arms stiff at his side, a clear steer away from the male at his side but he held a sharper yet softer look with his big and round eyes that were filled with a wonder in them that stirred something in you.

His hair messily disheveled, poking out in different directions but still effortless on camera. The captured sweat sliding down from his chin down his neck to trickle down to his flimsy tank top that outlined his body, all while he wore baggy basketball shorts that reached to his knees.

Your finger crumbled against your palm when you noticed the outlining of muscles on his arms tracing from the front of his biceps to the back on his tricep.

“And that’s Lee Heeseung” Your boss’ tone shifted into a heavy sigh with a hint of restriction in it, “More outspoken but keeps to himself most of the time but his career…” She sucked a breath as she stared at the male

“It’s promising. So damn promising” She muttered in a whisper before clearing her throat and patting your back with a firm manner that woke you up from the cold daydream you were in

“Can’t wait to see what you create with those two” Her voice squeakier than normal as she teared her gaze away from the picture and back to you

Seeing her toothy grin settled an unease feeling into the rest of your stomach but you pushed that aside and gave a quick smile.

She retracted her hand away after giving one last pat on your shoulder, “It’s a good thing what you’re doing. Choosing to step up when you know this is out of your paygrade” She hushed just for you to hear before walking away without another glance

Your jaw clenched uncomfortably moving your mouth side to side as a shiver ran up your spine causing a shudder of disbelief.

Holding back a roll of your eyes, your hands balled into a fist to shake yourself out of it. You looked back to the large picture of Lee Heeseung and Park Sunghoon, your publications soon to be biggest achievement and success story come to life that hung for all the office to see it in all it’s pride and glory.

Two proud aspiring rising stars in the making that you now have the luxury and privilege of getting first hand knowledge on them.

——

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen fic

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bernardsbendystraws · 1 year ago

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Pink Petals

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

See pinned post for (series) masterlist and (oneshots) masterlist and more.

Summary: Chris had a past with a few girls who had left him burned. Y/n had succumbed to the utter tragedy of giving up on her high school sweetheart a while ago. Chris walks into Y/n’s flower shop, searching for a bouquet of flowers for a girl. A blind date takes the lovelorn pair into fate’s hands. Chris isn’t holding back his true colors anymore. He’s a true romantic. Handwritten letters, cheesy compliments…and maybe some flowers.

Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.

A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post. I'm far more likely to see requests sent to my inbox.

With love and big tits, Rose.

PART ONE: Fucking Madison Beer & Man-Tits

The old bitch in front of me was less than happy. Fragrance of blooming florals did little to calm my teeth from clenching into the side of my cheek. I didn’t mind working. I had my dream job, my own flower shop just as I had imagined as a kid. Except, in my daydreams, this rude ass lady didn’t exist.

“Ma’am, we are closing early. I do not have the specific flower you are searching for either. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but there is nothing I can do to help you with only fifteen minutes.” I say.

The lady scoffs, shaking her head as she whips around and walks out the door. As the bell rings from the door movement, I let out a sigh of relief.

It wasn’t often that rude customers came in, but it did happen occasionally. For the most part, it was the neighborhood crowd surrounding that stopped in. The majority of houses were owned by an older group of people.

This part of LA didn’t look like the rest. My shop fit into the tiny array of buildings that aligned the edge of the neighborhood. It was perfect. The glass windows of my shop outlooked the border between the houses and the sand.

I had made a habit of walking along the shoreline of the beach before work. It was peaceful. It wasn’t a beach for a lot of swimming, the public didn’t swarm in the dozens to crowd the area. Elderly couples or photographers typically visited. Occasionally, public personas also roamed into the peaceful space.

Including Madison Beer.

Social media wasn’t relevant to me other than the occasional post to boost my business. However, it’s Madison fucking Beer.

A random Tuesday a couple months ago, the woman walks in. My brain stutters as I urge myself to act normal. I go over and greet her. As soon as a simple ‘can I help you find anything’ question spilled from my mouth, I nearly fainted at her reaction.

Tears.

I made Madison Beer cry.

Not cry–sob.

It was funny now. We laughed about it to this day. After a brief awkward encounter, she had confessed she was trying to get over a really messy breakup. All her friendships had dissipated, taking the side of her ex. She was trying to buy herself flowers, hoping it’d cheer her up.

Although, her attitude shifted when realizing the horror written on my face.

Guilt erupted from her aura as she ramabled words my frozen mind couldn’t process. Thankfully, I had closed the shop, helping her make her own custom bouquet. During the process, the oversharing didn’t stop, but neither of us cared. A friendship only written in movies was formed that day.

Fortunately, Madison was able to heal from her previous relationship. In fact, I had set her up with a guy that came in every couple of months, Austin. His mother, Rebecca, lived in the neighborhood. She was sweet and her kindness definitely was apparent in her son. Austin had been nice to me, occasionally making conversation. I instantly connected the two people together as I got to know Madison more. I was right so far–they were a perfect match.

It was a blind date.

I mean–how the fuck do you tell someone you’re setting them up with Madison Beer?

Happily together for nearly three months, the couple made me promise to let them set me up on at least one blind date. Stupidly, I agreed.

I didn’t think it’d actually happen. Madison knew I didn’t really date. I had grown out of my phase of making out with a different guy at every party though. That was a rough one. My mind didn’t let me date. Some boy had to screw that up for me in high school.

I was over him. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that I had his words engraved in my head. My mind came up with explanations for his behavior, everything inducing beliefs that made it hard to even attempt to open up to another person romantically.

But, the time had come.

Madison had apparently found my match. She nearly slapped me when I tried to make an excuse. She made it very clear that there was no bailing.

Deciding to deter her from violence, I was closing the shop early. Only ten minutes left until I could flip the sign on the door. The date was at five, but I was closing at 4 to freshen up beforehand. The condo I rented was only a five minute walk down the street, giving me enough time to get ready, but hopefully not enough to overthink too much.

Well, probably not.

I was overthinking all day already.

There really was no avoiding that aspect.

I start piling up the receipts from today’s transactions on the front desk. The bell rings, signaling my attention as I look up to see an unfamiliar man.

A really attractive unfamiliar man.

I swallow thickly, jumbling the receipts into a piled mess and shoving them beneath the counter. I wipe my hands off on my jeans, taking a deep breath as preparation.

“Hi, just a heads up we’re closing at four today, but what can I help you with?” I voice.

I mentally praise myself for the steadiness in my tone. My nerves die down, watching him anxiously scratch the back of his neck.

“I–uh, I just need to get flowers?” he says.

I bite the flesh on the inside of my cheek with endearment, fighting back a smile as he shifts his feet with uncertainty.

“Well, what kind of flowers? Are they a gift?” I say.

He nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, they–um, for a girl?”

Why couldn’t he say they were for his mom or something?

God, the more I tried retracting my gaze anywhere but his face, the more my eyes stayed entranced by his stature.

He was very attractive–hot. But, somehow, the man was also adorably cute. The type of man you imagined reading books, soft yet breathtaking enough to make someone drool.

He has to be a model.

God, I need to chill. I urge myself to roll my lips together. He has a girl, I remind myself.

Although I had gone through an unhinged phase, I was very against cheating. Any sort. Didn’t matter who I played, cheater or the other girl. I wasn’t gonna participate.

My lips curl into the smile as I watch his cheeks blush into a rosy hue. “Okay, you’re looking for flowers for your girlfriend, what does she like?” I ask.

I start walking past him toward the open window lined with premade bouquets. Walking past him, the musky scent of his cologne reaches my nose.

He smells good too?

Damn, his girlfriend is lucky.

I gesture down to the flowers lining the window in the displays, noticing his eyes widening. “I don’t really know what she likes…” he trails off. The hesitancy in his voice makes my mind wander with clueless direction as I glance around the premade bouquets.

“Well,” I fiddle with the velvet petals as I glance over the premade bouquets. “--flowers and colors have all different sorts of meanings. What are you trying to tell your girlfriend with these flowers?” I ask, as my eyes move back to his face, I see him shyly scratching the back of his neck as he shoves his other hand into the pocket of his baggy jeans.

“Um…” his eyes glance around the shop. With a defeated sigh, his shoulders shrug down. “I honestly don’t know. I…what’s your favorite?” he asks.

I chuckle lightly at his question. I brush past him, moving to the center display of the store. I point down to the pink-petaled bouquet, simple and pretty. “I personally love pink, it’s simple, innocent…it doesn’t come off too strong like red roses either, but it’s up to you.” I point out.

The alarm on my phone starts going off in my back pocket. I pull it out, silencing the alarm before shoving it back into the back of my jeans, sliding the device into the denim pocket.

The guy lets out a light laugh, “I think the pink ones you pointed out are pretty….but what if she doesn’t like them…” he says, mumbling out the last part barely above a whisper.

I grab the bouquet, shoving it into his chest gently as he cages the brown paper around the stems with his hands. “There’s not many ways to mess up flowers. If anything–she’ll appreciate the effort more than the actual flowers.” I say.

He nods his head and looks down at the flowers with a relieved look. “Okay, yeah, you’re right. Could I get these? Or are you closed? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

I cut him off, holding up my hands before starting to walk towards the front desk. “No, not at all. I’ll get you checked out. Cash or card?” I ask.

Shuffling through the options of the store computer, I pulled up his total. He holds up a credit card as I push the card reader further towards him. “Thank you. I would’ve been overthinking this all day, you have no idea.” he states.

As I reach back over to pull the card reader back, our hands brush slightly. I nearly jumped at the heat radiating off of his hands. Our eyes meet, his eyes wide with shock as I fight back a burning flush. “I–” I stutter, flinching at the wavering tone of my voice and squinting my eyes closed.

“Uh–sorry, I,” he pulls his hand back, cradling the bouquet in his hands as he slides his wallet back into his front pocket. “I, I’ll let you close up. Sorry for keeping you. Thank you for helping me out!” he exclaims cheerfully.

My heart clenches in my chest as he turns around. I hold myself back, admiring his bright smile as his arms swing by his sides, one of his hands adorned with the wrapped bouquet.

He slightly turns his body, waving as he settles a hand on the door. I give him a gentle wave, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as he exists. The ring of the door signals as I slowly step around the front counter. I follow his path toward the door, flipping the ‘open’ sign to say ‘closed’ with a heavy sigh.

I walk past the displays, fiddling my fingers onto the light switch embedded in the white walls. I flicker off the lights with the switch, hearing a car door shut. Before I can stop myself, I look out the window. My eyes immediately met his through his car window. His lips curl into a smile, his hand waving towards me as I look towards the ground sheepishly.

Why do the cute ones always have a girlfriend?

Nerves flooded my system as I anticipated the knock at my door any moment. I smoothed down my hands on my baggy jeans.

How bad could this possibly go?

Sure, Madison assured me that this man was nice. I trusted Madison. I really did. My anxiety didn’t. My anxious mind was screaming at me, telling me she only thinks he’s nice because he doesn’t want anything from her. Old beliefs resurfacing, ruining the present moment with the past.

I had been preparing for the worst.

It’s one date.

It’s only one date.

I had been on a handful of first dates. However, I had never really been on a second one. My high school sweetheart, Zach, just didn’t do those types of things. But, I would never settle for that again. I wouldn’t settle for anything, that’s why the first date was typically where things came to a stop before they could really begin.

It was why a second date was so foreign to me. The handful of first dates I had been on…weren’t great.

Some had been awful. Some had just been boring enough to nearly kill me.

However, I had never gone on a blind date. Madison knew my type, sure. She knew I didn’t find many people attractive. Looks were a factor, but it was mostly attitude. I couldn’t be with a guy too cocky or too shy.

The guy who had walked into the shop was a near perfect example. Excluding the fact that he has a girlfriend. Bitterness coated my tongue as I purse my lips and smoothed over some tinted lip gloss with the compact mirror in my hand.

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. I quickly close the tube of lip product, snapping the compact mirror shut and shoving both items in my small bag. My heart hammers in my chest as I hesitantly walk over to the door.

I take a deep breath as I feel the cold metal on my palm. I shake out some of the rushing anxiety in my shoulders, turning the knob. My eyes fall at level with the doorknob, a hint of pink petals catching my attention.

As I swing open the door completely, I let out a surprised huff followed by a soft laugh. My stomach knots with excitement seeing familiar pink florals clasped in brown paper. The smile clouds over my face as I look up to meet his eyes. “Oh fuck.” he mutters laughing. He holds out the flowers for me to grab. “--I hope the thought still counts.” he adds.

The familiar wording recollects the distant memory of our conversation in my mind. He didn’t say he had a girlfriend, he said he was getting them for a girl.

I nod, licking over my teeth as my smile widens. “Awww. You got my favorite! I’m Y/n, by the way. I’m assuming you’re Chris?” He nods at my question. “Hold on, let me put these away. Lucky for you, I have millions of vases already available and ready for use.” I acknowledge.

Our laughs echo in a chorus as I leave the door open. I shift my feet sideways, sliding over to the table lined up against the wall. I quickly unsnap the rubber holder around the stems and place them in a vase. The vase is nearly empty, only remnants of baby's breath from my last bouquet I had brought home for myself. I lay the brown paper next to the vase, making a mental note to take care of it later as I shift the individual florals in the vase, giving them appropriate placement to support the heavier flowers.

I dust off the grime from my hands, grabbing my keys from the bowl on the table next to the vase. My eyes wander to the velvety petals, smiling at the beauty and effort he had gifted me.

I let my feet wander back to the door, seeing his hands shoved into the pockets of his baggy jeans. “Hey, at least it was a good ice breaker,” he mentions. His fluffy hair is perfectly messy, accommodating a perfect contrast to his pale skin and sky-blue eyes.

Sucking in a harsh breath, I avert my eyes from his features in fear of lingering too long. My eyes nearly defy me, urging me to take in more of his face. I resist, letting my eyes fall to the keychain in my hand as I step through the threshold of the door, tugging the knob along behind me.

I shake my head with disbelief, letting out a soft laugh. “It really was. I…I’ve never gotten flowers on a first date, thank you.” I say. I hear the click of the door shutting behind me as I feel the knob hit my back gently. I turn around, my eyes going wide as I remind myself this is reality. I twist the key in the hole, locking the door and shoving the keychain into my small purse.

Madison, I really owe you one.

“Really? That’s all Madison told me about you. Your name, your age, and that you love flowers. She refused to tell me anything else. I’m, uh, really hoping you like mini golf though.” he mentions with a light chuckle.

I walk behind him as he guides us to a black car. He opens the passenger door, swinging it open and gesturing for me to sit. I smile gratefully, placing my purse in my lap as the door softly closes.

My eyes follow his figure as he walks around the front of the car. He got me flowers. He opened my door. He’s hot, he’s cute…so what’s wrong with him?

I shake off the anxiety protruding into my thoughts, willing the past beliefs to linger further in the back of my mind as I bring myself back to the present moment. The car door thuds shut, the closeness as he sits down allowing me to feel the heat radiating off of him as I let my elbow rest on the edge of the center console.

I wonder what it would feel like to touch him.

“Too hot? Too cold?” he asks, hovering his fingers over the air conditioning controls.

I shake my head lightly, holding back a smile at the thoughtfulness of his actions. “Nope,” I start, fiddling my hands as he starts driving down the street. I recognize the houses we begin passing by as soft music starts to play in the background.

“You know,” I start, glancing over to see his blue eyes trained on the road. “--I’ve actually never been mini golfing.” I admit.

His eyes dart to me, nearly bulging out of his head as he holds a shocked expression. “What? You’re kidding me, right?” he asks.

I shake my head, watching as he starts shaking his head with disbelief and turning his attention back to the road. “Well, I hope it won’t disappoint you.” he says.

My elbow nudges further onto the center console. I shift my weight, allowing my shoulder to nudge into his briefly. “I don’t think you’ll disappoint me. I mean, you’re already doing great so far.” I remark.

I sink back comfortably in my seat. I watch as his eyes shift toward me in my peripheral visions, whipping my head to the window. I see a brief reflection of his grinning eyes matching his curled lips as we pass under a bridge.

“Oh yeah?” he teases.

The subtle taunt in his words marks a movement of adrenaline in my veins, burning through my body with pure excitement as I bring my attention back out the front window. I struggle to keep my cheeks relaxed as I feel his eyes glancing over at me every so often.

I hear him shift in his seat. My arm resting on the center console is greeted by the warmth of his arm bushing against mine as my breath catches in my throat.

Fuck.

I had anticipated every possible bad scenario.

Not a thought had been spared to this going well.

“I’m just teasing, sorry.” he mutters.

I bite my tongue, letting out a laugh as I turn my attention to him. “It’s okay. I’ll just tease you about buying me flowers from my own shop.” I remark.

My shoulders tremble with giggles as I hear him groan dramatically. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” I let out.

The car comes to a gentle stop as I look up at him from my seat. His eyes are already trained on me, a grin spread across his face that makes my eyes widen before falling to my lap as heat travels up my neck.

I’ve never had someone look at me like that.

His gaze felt like drowning in an ocean of rose petals.

The drum in my chest calms as I hear him clear his throat, cutting the tension that seemed to have clouded the air thickly.

“So, um,” the soft look on his face drags my eyes towards his gentle words. “How do you know Madison?” he asks.

He turns the blinker on, pulling into a parking lot. “I, uh, she came into my shop. I greeted her, she started balling her eyes out, and the rest is history. We’ve been friends for a little over a year now. What about you?” I say.

“Well, I don’t know how much Madison told you about me, but I do YouTube. Apparently, she had been watching our videos and wanted to come on our channel. We kinda just clicked–it’s only been a couple of months though.” he explains.

My mind wraps around the spill of information, extracting the details of his statement. I had met a lot of famous people. Mostly those who came down to the beach near my shop for photoshoots. Most were fine, some were not. I didn’t judge them. Their career was theirs. Mine was mine.

“Our?” I ponder out loud.

Chris nods in my peripheral vision. As he puts the car into park, he looks over at me, leaning further into the center console. My skin grows warm at the lack of distance. His irises catch my glance, trapping me trained on his eyes. “Yeah, I’m a triplet. I have a channel with my brothers. Well, two of them.” he adds.

I nod my head in acknowledgement, peering up towards his perfectly messy hair as he runs a hand through the brown array.

His hair looks soft.

My hands claw at the denim material covering my thighs, holding back from reaching out. It was no secret that physical touch was my second nature. Madison thought it was funny. People had thought we were a lesbian couple because we had been holding hands in a grocery story for a late night snack run.

It was fucking funny.

Austin thought it was hysterical. He loved to joke about it, especially saying, ‘you think she could get Madison Beer? Yeah, right.’

He was never serious. He was never actually intimidated. Madison loved him for it, so much. Austin was a secure man who loved her whole-heartedly. What more could she ask for?

A pair of tits is the answer I had provided when we had bickered about the question.

Then, Austin flexed his man-tits.

Then, I almost threw up.

Even though they were a couple, they had quickly become my best friends with no awkward tension between it being the three of us at times. I never felt left out, I felt appreciated.

“How many other siblings do you have?” I ask curiously.

Chris shrugs, pulling his keys into his palm with a smooth swing. “Just an older brother. Well–and a dog according to my mom. What about you though? Any siblings?” he asks.

I nod. My hand gravitates towards the seat belt attachment as I hear his click undone. Pulling my own off, I smooth down my hands over my jeans. The bitter coldness ripped at my fingers, a typical occurrence that I always had to endure on a daily basis. Despite the warm breeze and beaming sun, LA still had no strength compared to my poor circulation. My hands and feet were almost always cold.

“Yeah, I have a sister, Taylor. She’s a bit older though, and she lives in Colorado with her wife so I don’t see her very often.” I announce.

I look over, seeing Chris nodding in acknowledgment to my statement. “Ready to go in?” he suggests.

With a nod, I guide my hand towards the car door handle. “Wait,” I hear. I look back in Chris’s direction, seeing him already out of the car and jogging around the front to my side. I giggle, biting the inside of my cheek as I realize what he’s doing.

As the passenger door opens, Chris holds out a hand for me. I slide mine in his, hearing a gasp leave his mouth. “Holy fuck, how are you so cold?” he remarks.

I nearly crumble while embracing the warmth of his hand against mine. Standing up next to him, I shrug. “My hands are always cold, sorry.” I remark, embarrassment caught in my throat as I strain the words through pursed lips.

“No, no,” Chris quickly says. “--it’s fine, I don’t mind. I just thought I had made the car too cold or something.” he mentions.

I shake my head from left to right bluntly. “No, I promise. I mean, here,” I guide his hand to my slightly exposed stomach. His skin delicately brush against mine makes my heart stammer with a drum in my chest. The slight knead of his finger catches me off guard. My eyes flicker upward, meeting his intense stare as I feel myself holding my breath.

The large huff of air stuck in my stomach makes my chest burn, urging for relief.

I can’t just sigh out and say I forgot to fucking breathe?

His plundering irises follow my face as I look to the side. I bring my hand upward, dropping his as I gesture to the building.

“Is this it?” I question.

I silently whisper a token of gratitude in my head for the avoided awkward situation. Swinging my arms back down by my sides, my fingers fiddle with the belt loops of my jeans. My eyes look back at his hand by his own side, missing the feeling of his skin against mine.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Yeah, follow me.” he directs.

I follow his footsteps, side by side as our hands brush against each other swiftly.

Fuck. Fucking. Fuck. Fuck.

It not only was going good–it was going to uncharted territory.

Intimidating uncharted fields in foreign land.

I didn’t just want him in bed, making me feel good. I longed for his touch in a more intimate way than just sex. I wanted to know more about him, more about his personal life.

And that…that was scarier than any horror movie I had ever witnessed.

“I hadn’t gotten the chance to tell you yet, but I think you’re incredibly pretty.” Chris voices.

My lips purse happily as a flush crosses my face. “Thank you,” I mutter. “--I, um, to be honest…I was only asking who the flowers were early to see if you had a girlfriend. I thought you were really attractive.” I admit.

Chris cranes his neck, his eyes peering into mine for a split second before he reaches out and holds open the door to the building. “Really? I was too nervous to correct you, honestly.” he confesses.

I brush my hand along his chest whilst walking into the structure. My eyes train over his reaction, watching his eyes squint with a grin. As I avert my gaze forward, a front desk comes into view.

Time had passed too quickly. The beautiful day was starting to fade into a sunset. Mini golfing had been easier than I expected, well, pretty easy to practice based on watching other people around us too.

The conversation had yet to stop. It started with talking about our siblings. Chris was even more attached to his siblings than I was with Taylor, which I had yet to find a person who valued their sibling nearly as much as me. But, it was clear how much he relied on his brothers, especially Matt and Nick.

It was endearing.

Listening to him talk about the people he cared about brought a smile to my face. It made it easier to open up about my own circle of loved ones. Well, not the brutal details. He knew about my grandma who raised me like a mother, Donna. He listened with intent as I explained growing up and nurturing her backyard garden for her as her energy depleted with age.

One sentence in particular had warmed something untouched inside of me.

‘I hope I get to meet her someday.’

A glimpse of an illusion had drifted into my thoughts.

Maybe, he could someday.

“You covered his room in Liam Neson?” I screech.

My hand covering my mouth does little to mute the noise. I almost expect him to shush me as I shrink into my body with embarrassment. The stares of surrounding people makes my stomach curl with anxiety

“YES! YES WE DID!” Chris exclaims.

The volume of his voice exceeds mine. The stares quickly turn into people turning back to mind their own business, a relieving sigh escaping my lips.

Chris leans his weight sideways and downwards, his hair tickling against the side of my forehead. I glance up at him, his blue eyes barely visible through the smiling squint. “Don’t worry, you never gotta be embarrassed with me. Plus,” our foreheads brush together briefly as he stands up tall again. “--I get excited and too loud all the time. We’re a perfect match.” he points out.

A perfect match.

I make a mental note to never doubt Madison again.

She’s gonna love to hear about this.

Not as much as I'd love to tell her about it though.

The thought makes my ears flush red with excitement. “Madison was right, I owe her one.” I mention.

Chris nods his head as he walks in front of me, guiding us to the last course of the mini golf building. My heart sinks with disappointment as he hits the ball.

I don’t want this to end.

The golf ball lands centimeters away from the hole. I walk up, taking my turn. The ball darts out, following a similar path to Chris’s before landing nearly an inch next to it.

Chris walks up to his ball, aligning his club before glancing back up at me. “We should make a bet since we lost track of the score,” he suggests.

I laugh, nodding along to his offer. “I’m okay with that. How do you think we should do that? What are we betting on?” I pester.

Chris leans on the golf club, his body slanted as he shifts his weight. His free hand rubs at his chin, a sly grin replacing his expression. “Well,” he drops his hand back down to his side, “--if I win, I want to take you somewhere else after this.” he says.

I nod, licking over my teeth with excited eyes analyzing him. He wants more time–with me. “Deal. You first.” Chris nods affirmatively, swinging the club back and positioning it in front of the golf ball. The clink of the club hitting the ball echoes as I watch the small object tumble towards the end hole, stopping just short by a couple of inches.

Chris scoffs, turning around and holding his hands up in defense. My eyes wander to his arms, the veins apparent as he stretches his limbs cockily. “Good luck beating that, sweetheart.” he says.

My cheeks clench with a heat at the subtle name. The joking tone in his voice not playing much weight to the warm flutter of nerves bundling in my gut. My feet moved swiftly through the air that drifted down with tension. I line up my club, swinging the ball and watching it dart through the obstacle with more precision than intended.

As the ball starts to slow down, it stops nearly just a centimeter before Chris’s. “You know,” Chris starts, walking forward and lining up to hit his ball. “--you never said what you wanted if you won.” he points out.

I shrug, tilting my head to the side and flashing him a taunting smile. “Just hit the ball and if I win, you’ll find out, pretty boy.” I tease.

His eyebrows sway upwards on his face, a look of astonishment giving me a sense of pride. He adjusts his position, swinging his club and making contact with the golf ball. The soft nudge sends the ball directly to the rim of the hole, swirling around before sinking into it.

“I’m happy I won, but I’m still curious what you wanted if you won.” he says.

I stay planted in place as Chris walks over. He grabs my golf club in one hand, clutching it next to his own. His free arm slings over my shoulders, tugging me against his side as I let myself sway into his steps. My skin burns, urging me to pull him closer.

“Maybe if things continue going like this, you might find out.” I express.

I reach up, intertwinning my hand in his that rests on my shoulder. My cold hands embrace his warmth greedily. I feel his thumb start to caress over the back of my palm, a sudden movement that makes my eyes soften with curiosity.

I look over, seeing his eyes trained on me already. My teeth clench into the side of my cheek as I will myself to maintain eye contact.

"Yeah?" he says breathlessly.

The subtle word catches me off guard, dissipating any faux confidence I had to keep my eyes on his. Heat rushes up in tingles from my spine, crawling all the way towards my ears as I avert my gaze to the path in front of us.

"Shut up." I whisper out. His chuckle lightly vibrates against my ear as he rests his lips inches away from my head.

"Anything for you, sweetheart." he replies.

The glint of fake sympathy sends waves of excitement through my bones, my pulse nearly echoing in my ears as my heart pummels in my chest.

My eyes quickly glance towards his, darting back in front of us as his blue irises deter my attention back to the pulsating clamber in my chest.

His arm squeezes tighter around me as he places the clubs in the bin as we pass by the front desk. I nearly forget to breath as his fingers dance hesitantly along my exposed collarbone delicately.

"Ready?"

The question leaving his lips leads my mind into a fumble of anticipation as I nod my head eagerly.

I don't want this to end.

A/N: Hello! I hope you have enjoyed the first chapter of my new series! A couple things I need to mention though. One, I've never played mini golf and IDK how it works. Don't roast me if I didn't explain it right lmao. Secondly, this series will be HEAVILY different from Comfort Zone, so please don't expect the same thing from me over and over. Lastly, I'm debating creating a a whole mood board from pinterest and adding it to my profile so you guys can more clearly imagine what I picture for this series universe. This would include outfits, Y/n's flowers shop, and more. Let me know if this is something that you guys would be interested in!! Anyhow, thank you for reading!! Let me know your thoughts in the comments or in my inbox!! LOVE YA!

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