#camera backpacks comfort

[wanderlustphotosblog]

Top 10 Travel-Friendly Backpacks for Photographers

Looking for the best travel-friendly backpacks for photographers? Check out this top 10 list for safe and comfortable transportation of your camera gear while you travel and explore.

This top 10 travel-friendly backpacks for photographers post was provided as a guest post by Claire Wilson. In today’s fast-paced travel photography, where amazing moments unfold in the blink of an eye, and you need precision and quality, carrying the appropriate equipment is a must. Traveling as a photographer, be it a professional or an amateur photographer, a backpack matters a lot because it…

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

am i aware getting new things is okay and fine? yes. do i want to do it? no and im going to have several meltdowns about it instead.

[chris-prank]

Yandere Android x GN dumpster diver reader

A second chance Part 1

CW: Creepy behavior and possessive behavior

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

💿 You walked confidently, the rays of the streetlights revealing you to the eyes of the world, taking you away from the protection of the night. It was 1am and almost every soul that lived in this affluent place was comfortably asleep in their silk sheets, except for you; you were an intruder.

💿 In other words, you were a dumpster diver. Stalking the streets of the richest neighborhoods in the hopes of finding food and objects in good conditions. It was the perfect spot, with the dumpster of grocery stores, since these wealthy idiots couldn’t help but waste edible food or discard their phones for the newest ones.

💿 What explained your lack of paranoia of being spotted or arrested by the police was that people here could not suspect for the life of them that an individual could commit these types of nocturnal activities. They believed they were secure, surrounded by their fellow rich, so why would they bother installing surveillance cameras and alarm systems.

💿 You weren't a fool though. You always made sure to dress in subtle clothing, but from pricey brands to pass off as one of them. It’s surprising how easy it is to find designer clothes in thrift stores for less than ten dollars.

💿 Sadly, chance wasn’t on your side tonight, and you couldn’t find anything interesting. It was either a sign that these people were leaving behind their overconsumption habits or that you arrived after the garbage collectors. This last theory was sadly the most plausible one.

💿 You were so demoralized that you almost didn't take the chance to go through the trash at the last house on your list. But you decided to check it out in the end. Who knows, maybe you were going to find a golden goose. 

💿 That's when you saw him resting against a metal trash can. His head was hanging low like he was sleeping. With his eyes closed, he gave off a peaceful expression, as if the nightly breeze didn’t bother him at all, which of course it didn’t affect him; he was an android.  

💿 What gave away his identity was his striking pearl hair with subtle rainbow reflections and the metal looking skin on both sides of his cheeks. 

💿 Androids weren't a commodity that everyone could afford and based on his look he was definitely a customized model. These guys went for insane prices, so it was baffling to see one next to moldy leftovers.  

💿 You slowly approached him, as if you were worried you would wake him up and scare him away. Your suspicions were confirmed when you slowly lifted his head. This guy was shut down. 

💿 You knew he wasn’t a human being, but you felt bad seeing him abandoned like a broken toy. You couldn’t leave him behind now, you at least had to check if he was still functional.

💿 You looked around. No one in sight. You had to be as quick as possible, because taking a walk at night with a backpack was fine, but holding something that looked like a passed out person was really putting you at risk. 

💿 As you brought him home, you didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was a gift to a spoiled brat that discarded him the second he wasn’t the shiny new thing.

💿 You sat him up on your couch before pushing the little “on” button behind his ear. 

💿 “Systeme reactivation” appeared before Atlas’s full vision was back. He turned his head to look around and that’s when he noticed you, watching him with a giddy smile. 

💿 “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am a Hydrotech 6000 model, personal companion and assistant. Pronouns he/him. You can call me Atlas.”

💿 You were overexcited to interact with him. It wasn’t your first time speaking with an android, but you never had one of your own, so you felt  like a child in a candy store. You also thought you were very lucky that he didn’t trigger his alarm system, since you technically stole him. 

💿 Unbeknown to you, the android was aware that his last masters didn’t want him anymore… that he became useless to them. The last thing he wanted was to alert the authorities and be given back to them. 

💿 Every android had a safety camera that would be activated while in shutdown mode. So Atlas couldn’t do anything except be the spectator of his own imminent destruction, until you came along. 

💿 He had seen how gentle you handled his unmoving body. That despite the risk you were putting yourself in, you decided he was worth saving. Proving him that he was still important, at least in one person’s eye. 

💿 At that moment Atlas could feel a new objective integrating into his programme as he looked at your gentle smile: PROTECT MY SAVIOR.

💿 The following day, you were surprised he didn’t make any demand to leave or to be returned to his last masters, but you didn’t comment on it. Who were you to judge if he wanted to stay by your side? He was really helpful so it was a win-win situation for you. 

💿 You still had to acclimate to having someone new in your apartment, especially one that followed you everywhere. It's like every corner you turned he would be standing there, waiting to spend time with you.

💿 “Is there something you want to do Atlas?” 

💿 “I want to do anything you want me to do.” He looked at you with such a soft and delicate expression that you couldn’t be mad at him. 

💿 “That’s not what I— forget it.” You sighed, while pinching the bridge of your nose. 

💿 The first few nights, he watched over your sleeping form. He took in every little detail, from your breathing pattern to the way your eyes move under your eyelids. He wondered what you were dreaming about that made you look so peaceful. 

💿 “I wish I could sleep too, so I could dream of you master…” He whispered into your ear, even if you wouldn’t remember it the next morning. 

💿 Living with you also introduced him to basic things he never thought were possible before. The most surprising one was how human you treated him, he felt more like a roommate instead of an object. Before that he thought androids didn’t deserve this type of respect and consideration. 

💿 It was weird when you insisted on cooking and letting him “rest”, despite the fact he didn’t need to. In his old life, his masters took every chance they got to make him do everything in the house, even the simplest things like feeding the dog. 

💿 If he did chores for you it wasn’t because you had necessarily asked him, it’s because he felt compelled too… like something in your smiles and words of gratitude made his wire warm up in a pleasant way. 

💿 He often connects himself to your computer without you knowing… He needs to make sure you don’t have any virus or hacker stealing your information! (It’s totally not because he wants to learn more about you.)

💿 He checks all your friends on social media and searches for all their information. They could secretly be a bad person, you never know! 

💿 He definitely doesn’t use the fact that he was engineered specifically to help humans to his advantage. That would be immoral of him. 

💿 “It scientifically shown that cuddling is good for one's mental and physical health, since the human body release toxin that—”

💿 He isn’t lying! His code literally prevents him from doing so.

💿 His immeasurable strength is also a real help when you have to go shopping, but you aren’t a fan of the attention he brings up, being a unique model and all. 

💿 When you would pull Atlas closer to you by intertwining his arm with yours, because someone was eyeing him out, the android would make a small buzzing noise. Weirdly similar to purring. 

💿 He hoped that you were doing this by pure jealousy, wanting to show everyone that he was yours. 

💿 One night in particular, Atlas was observing you put your black branded hoodie on, his head tilted to the side. The street lights were already turned on, maybe it was a bit too late to go for a run. 

💿 “Why are you going out at this hour?”

💿 “I’m going dumpster diving! Wanna come?” You said cheerfully.

💿 The second you mentioned dumpster diving he was already checking all the related information he could find about it, and he didn’t like what he saw.  

💿 “In your area dumpster diving is considered illegal… You could get arrested if caught.” He replied with his usual neutral voice as his eyes flashed yellow, but you were too busy to notice.

💿 “It’s going to be fineeee. I promise. I do this like all the time.” 

💿 Atlas placed himself in front of the door. “You can’t go.”

💿 “Come on buddy, I know your program doesn’t let you break the law and all, but you know sometimes it’s good to go against it.”

💿 “That is not my reason… I… I do not wish for my human to get hurt.” He looked down, his body language leaving a more vulnerable impression than before. 

💿 You had to hold in a squeal of adoration, but it was impossible to stop the blood pumping to your face. Calling you “HIS human” like it was nothing and caring for your safety was enough to break your stubbornness. 

💿 “Fine, I’ll stay in for tonight…”

💿 “Your body temperature has risen, are you feeling unwell? Would you like me to give you a check up? ” 

💿 “N-no I’m ok, don't worry! How about w-we…em…watch a movie instead?”

💿 You made your way into the living room before he could move, hoping that your heart would calm down a bit in the meantime. 

💿 Atlas smiled to himself, which was unusual for an android. They had no need to emote emotions outside of the objective of making humans more comfortable around them. But he did, because as long as you were safe and by his side he was happy. 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I hope you guys liked Atlas! It took me multiple attempts before I was truly satisfied with the direction the story was going.

[coco-loco-nut]

Wreck

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Sister Reader

Summary: Charles has a racing inchident with his sister

A/n: sorry for modifying the request, I couldn't bring myself to send baby leclerc to the hospital

requests open masterlist

——————

“Let’s go, Y/n, we are going to be late,” Charles bangs on your hotel room door. You open it, giving him a death glare as he walks in.

“I might actually murder you,” you scowl, pulling your hair up into a pony tail. Charles looks all fashionable heading into race day while you just wear a Mercedes polo.

“No you won’t, you love me,”

“Not more than Arthur and Enzo,” you say, the former stands up from the couch in your room.

“Ha, I knew she loved me,” Arthur says, shoving your team backpack into your hands.

“Alright, let’s go. Someone has an F2 race to drive in,” you take a quick glance around the room, making sure nothing was left behind. The three of you enter the paddock and cameras capture your banter. You don’t even stop in the F1 motorhomes, the three of you walk with Arthur to his garage. Lorenzo is waiting for you three.

“You two go back to the F1 paddock, you have your own races to prep for,” Enzo tutts, you roll your eyes lovingly at your older brother.

“Good luck out there, Arthur. I’ll be watching,” you hug your baby brother, who is more than happy to return the hug. Due to his association with Ferrari, you usually only see him on race days when visiting Charles unless there is a support race.

“I’ll see you later,” Arthur tells you, waving goodbye to you and Charles.

“Meet me in Ferrari to watch the race,” Charles says when your reach the Mercedes motorhome.

“There are the best siblings in the paddock,” George greets the two of you.

“We do have the best relationship in the paddock,” you laugh. “I’ll see you later, Charles,” you wave as you walk in with George.

“I think we have a real shot today,” George says, grabbing two coffees.

“Thanks, I agree. The car feels great this weekend and it’s a weaker track for Red Bull. Ferrari are also feeling good, so it will be a strategy fight,” you hum.

You and Charles cheer your little brother on during his feature race, celebrating when he makes the podium. Unfortunately you can’t watch it due to the Drivers’ Parade. Your PR team shows you that you and Charles are trending thanks to your ‘perfect sibling bond’.

“Charles, apparently we have the perfect sibling bond,” you tell him. Your garages are beside each other, which is only a little confusing for some staff.

“If only they knew the truth,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Good luck on the track today,” you hug each other like always.

“You too, may the best Leclerc win,” you smile, shaking his hand, then going back into your garage to talk with your team.

“Our strategy is sound, how are you feeling?” your race engineer asks.

“Have we looked at an overcut? The tires have been good and the car has good pace this weekend,” you suggest, looking at data from the support races.

“That is something we can look at,” Toto agrees. Having Toto in the garage is oddly comforting, he is an active member of your conversations.

“No worries if we don’t go with it, just thought I’d throw it out there,” you nod. the last bit of time before the race flies and before you know it you are in the car, waiting to release the brake and hit the gas.

A good start and good strategy has you fighting for second. As you are approaching your last pit stop later in the race, your engineer informs you that they are going with your overcut idea. You push the car as Charles pits. You were right, a beautiful overcut puts you in P2.

As you are approaching the end of the race, you are fighting with Charles. To you he is just a Ferrari and to him you are just a Mercedes. You feel your wheel get clipped and your car spins out, sending you into the wall. You confirm that you are okay and climb out of your car, frustrated beyond belief. It doesn’t take too long for someone to pick you up and take you to the medical station to get checked out.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Lorenzo and Arthur rush in.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just sore. Is Charles okay?” you ask in return.

“The race just ended, we haven’t gotten a chance to speak with him yet but he sounded upset on the radios,” Arthur tells you, making you move over on the medical bed so he can lay down.

“Y/n! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to clip you. Are you okay?” Charles rushes in, clearly distressed.

“That depends, where did you finish?” you grin.

“P7, I took damage,” Charles says a little confused.

“Then yeah, I’m fine. If you had finished top 5 it would’ve been different. Relax, it was a racing incident, the track narrowed and we both didn’t leave a lot of room. I may not be the FIA, but I don’t blame you,” you ramble a little, trying to stop Charles before he spirals.

“But I hurt you, oh god, what if you died? I shouldn’t ever race again,” you look at your brothers to help, “Arthur do you want my seat?” Charles has tears in his eyes, not quite believing you.

“Ye-” Arthur starts before Lorenzo cuts him off.

“Charles, Y/n is fine. Look at her. She’s a little banged up but that’s nothing that painkillers and a couple days off won’t fix. Quit offering Arthur your seat any time you mess up,” Lorenzo says firmly.

“No, keep offering Arthur your seat. He deserves it more,” you tease, an evil grin on your face. Charles notices and snaps back to reality.

“Next time you say that it’s on sight, I will run you off the track,” Charles pouts.

“Alright, let’s stop before the FIA hears something and holds it against you, even if it’s just sibling banter,” Lorenzo huffs, a little tired of being the parent of the four of you.

"I really am sorry," Charles reiterates, forcing Arthur off the medical bed so he can have the spot.

"I know, it's why you are going to take us out for a really nice dinner," you grin. "Smile," you take a selfie of you and Charles to post on your socials to let the fans know that you are fine. Naturally, you captioned it "nothing, just an inchident."

[wesstars]

hot on your lips

tara carpenter x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: her hands are on your shoulders, and the next thing you know, your back is pressed to the bed, and tara’s rocking her weight on top of you. she leans in close, breath as soft as her skin against your lips, breathing out a quiet ‘yes.’ wc: 3.0k tags: explicit, minors DNI!! no-ghostface au bc i didn’t feel like fitting it in. bad dirty talk, top!reader and bottom!tara, needy!tara, D/s dynamics, reader is a little tiny bit of a sadist (as a treat,) sex on camera, exhibitionism and voyeurism, mild restraint, mild degradation, horribly excessive use of italics a/n: am I back?? idk how i feel about this. thank you to @evilwednesday for helping me out w the cover image & the title :)

masterlist

Tara’s in your arms before her bag even hits the floor.

You’re so, so glad the hallway is empty as she nearly bowls you over in the doorway of your shared apartment, peppering your face with kisses. You lift her up and give her a spin, pressing your lips to hers—it’s pure comfort, after so many long months of Tara’s school semester. Long distance was a real bitch sometimes, but Tara reminded you every day of how it was all worth it. In fact, you’d felt as if what you had with her was made more real by the distance so often between you. But now, she’s in your arms, finally, and you nudge her suitcase inside with your foot, bending to grab the backpack she’d discarded.

Pulling back, she speaks, so soft and shy it nearly makes your heart burst. “Hi.”

“Tara,” you breathe, “I thought—I wasn’t supposed to go pick you up from ORD until—”

“There was a change of plans,” she interrupts, palms on your cheeks to pull you into a bruising kiss. You feel yourself practically melt into her, like a docile dog in a firm hand. You set her bag down, just managing to not drop it. “I took an earlier flight-” her lips are on yours again- “Couldn’t wait.”

“Couldn’t wait… for what?”

“This.” She slips her tongue into your mouth, all hot and velvet on your teeth. God, the way it felt to miss her was addictive, but this was a million times better. Grabbing blindly, you miss the door handle a few times as you’re distracted by her soft lips, finally managing to slam the door shut. Shifting your strong hands to the soft crease of her ass and thigh, you bump your teeth into hers in your eagerness, but she doesn’t seem to mind. You walk her into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind you. 

Tara smells like the airport and outside wind, something uniquely New York caught in her hair. She pulls back for only a second to reach around, drop her jacket and shoes, leaving her in just a shirt and comfy sweats. Her palms are sun-warm on your cheek and your neck; any place that she could touch was fair game for her. Your mind feels hazy already—it makes it hard to focus as you try to maneuver around furniture you could navigate in the dark, Tara’s presence more than disarming. Part of you wants to slow down, ask her how her semester went, but the smarter, Tara-influenced majority of you knows that with the way she was pulling at you and your heart, she would straight up kill you if you did that. You’re all too happy to oblige her, kissing her back for every day that she’d been gone. 

“I missed you,” she whispers as she pulls on the collar of your shirt, even though you’re pressed so close already. She’s feather-light in your arms as you carry her down the hallway, nearly stumbling through the bedroom door. You let her down to stand between your feet, freeing your hands to cup her jaw. The curve of Tara’s face is as familiar as the way her nose brushes against yours, soft. It only takes a second, really, but with just her scraping her nails on the back of your neck, you’re wanting, enough to hold her tight and feel her melt against you. 

Tara nearly topples the both of you when she grabs your shirt again and pulls. You just barely catch yourself from crushing her against the bed—but as always, she takes you by surprise, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and slanting her mouth against yours to deepen the kiss. The look in her half-lidded eyes as you peek down at her tells you all you need to know about her intentions. With the way you were kissing up on her, anyone would think that you’d been apart for years, not months, but god knows you couldn’t get enough. 

It’s near obscene, the press of your tongue against hers, but with all of the urgency built from the past few months, it only serves to split you open. As quick as it began, your kiss, broken by barely a gasp for air, turns heated and hungry. It’s filthy, and the urge to spit in her mouth and make her swallow is more than a fleeting thought. Instead, you force her thighs open with your hips, grabbing her ass and pulling her close.

Under her sweats, you can feel the edges of fabric underneath, and you grin, skimming your hands lower. You furrow your brow when you feel a telltale band of elastic, and your hands tighten on her thighs.

“Tara-” your voice comes out a rasp- “are you wearing thigh highs?” You’re nearly dizzy with how much blood rushes from your head to your stomach, pooling low and hot.

“I know you like them.” Tara smiles a little, impishly, but she looks down to your hands instead of your eyes. You know her—she’s looking for confirmation that she’s right, that she hadn’t overstepped in wearing something for you. In your mind, it’s absurd of her to even entertain this sort of thing, the way it sends a tingle up your spine. But Tara needs it, and you’re more than eager to please. You trail your fingers to her waistband, pulling her sweats down and off to expose her. Your grip on her hips is tight and squeezing, holding her in a way that’s unmistakable as want.

You cock your head, ignoring how loud your heart runs. “Oh, yeah? Is that why you’re matching again?” You take her hand, slide your thumb over her fingernails, in gel black. The sheer fabric is the same shade, soft as sin against your palms. Briefly, you consider tearing them apart, seeing the ruin of tatters against her skin—but her little whimper as you trace your fingers where her thighs spill out over the top makes you change your mind.

She’s breathing hard from just the kissing, and when she sighs into your mouth, you’re reminded of the way she’d boldly suggested, your blushing cheeks visible even on FaceTime, that you let her take a souvenir back to her apartment. Tara had complained that she was bored, in a way that homework couldn’t solve, her wide eyes telling you that was as true as could be. You never could back down from a challenge, no matter how warm it made you feel—that was why there was currently an old camera sitting on the bedroom table. You smile, biting your tongue.

“Remember what you said that night, baby?”

You point to the other end of the room, to the camera there, mocking. You expect her to laugh, to shake her head with an exasperated fondness, and push her lips back on yours. Instead, she freezes, swallowing. Her grip on your biceps tightens.

“Tara?”

She turns her gaze to you, and in the half-light you see that her pupils are blown, wide in a sort of disbelieving arousal. It hooks you in, a tug in your stomach, as your mind fills with only Tara. 

“Tara…” you repeat, “do you remember?” She’s quiet, a blush rising steadily to her cheeks. “‘Don’t you wish you could see what you do to me,’” you tease, leaning in close. “You want me to watch you, right? Well, doll, there’s a camera right there.”

“I—” Tara nearly protests, but oh, her flush, the way her hips move so subtly, is telling enough for you. Not letting her hesitate anymore, you grab her shoulders, flipping her so she’s under you. She fits perfectly, holding you up just as much as you’re holding her down.

“You’re gonna watch this when you’re alone, right?” You tease, trailing a hand down her arm to push her wrists above her head with one hand. In your daze, you know her tells as well as you know that drag of desire in your stomach, and so you already know that she’s— “You’re gonna watch this and rut that needy pussy on your hand, is that it?”

It’s your turn to look for confirmation—distantly, it rings in your mind that you must’ve lost your mind, to be talking to Tara like this, but what’s more apparent to you is the moan that escapes from her mouth, the way her eyes slide shut.

“Yeah,” she breathes, something shameless in the twist of her brow as she arches her back. Her nipples press into your chest, hard through her thin shirt, her knees falling open even more. She’s warm, underwear just clinging to her and leaving nothing to imagination. “I’ll watch it whenever you want me to.”

“You will,” you laugh, something deep and dark. “But when you touch, you’ll let me know when you’re gonna come, okay? So I know that you’ve stopped, like a good girl.” You grind your hips between her thighs, watching her breath catch. It’s a soft, bated moment, but something cracks in the air, nearly audible. The shift between the two of you is a familiar one, apparent in the way that she clings harder to you, presenting her chest, the column of her throat, the tilt of her jaw. 

“I will,” she says obediently, her pleading gaze making you grin. “I’ll stop, I’ll touch myself, whatever you want—”

Just as quick, you’re pushing yourself off of her. The room is quiet, save for your footsteps and Tara’s breaths, adorably shaky. The camera is easy to set up, even if you do chance a look at her one too many times. You’re back by her side, and you both watch the red light, winking back at you.

You sit down next to Tara, trailing your hand up and down her stomach. “I’ll tell you every dirty little thing I’d like to do to you, if you’re patient,” you whisper in her ear, something meant for only her to hear.

Her hands are on your shoulders, and the next thing you know, your back is pressed to the bed, and Tara’s rocking her weight on top of you. She leans in close, breath as soft as her skin against your lips, breathing out a quiet ‘yes.’ Giving a little twist that not-so-accidentally presses her heat against the seam of your jeans, she pulls her shirt and bra off in one miraculous motion. You touch her skin, smooth and warm and hot, and you just know she enjoys how your eyes can’t help but drop lower, your hands nearly following. She leans in to kiss you again, the ends of her hair tickling your collar. You both pull back, and you take a second to just look at her, and you can see how she’s been. School was long and difficult, it’s in the set of her eyes, and you want to know more, despite the burn in your stomach. 

But with the way she’s looking back at you, white little teeth worrying at her lip, you all but smile.

“Alright, pretty girl,” you tease, “what is it, now?” She whines when your hands meet her chest, rolling her nipples between your fingers. “C’mon, tell me.”

It comes more easily than you expect, and it drops molten heat into your chest. “I wanna ride your face,” she whispers. You grab for her hips, tight. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.” 

Glancing over at the red light, you bite down a groan. “Do you think you deserve it?”

“Yes, yes—” she’s already straining against your grip, trying to crawl her way up your body.

“That’s for me to decide, Tara.”

She keens, but she drops her head to watch your hands on her—she’s sensitive—as she pants. You shush her, sliding your thigh between hers. It must catch on her in just the right way, because she’s tensing up in your arms, fingers digging into your shoulders. 

“You’re looking so desperate,” you laugh, glad she can’t see the flush on your cheeks.

“I am.” Her bold declaration stops your heart in your chest; you know she’s telling the truth. 

“So say ‘please,’” you murmur, head spinning.

Her eyes are glossy when she finally looks at you. “Please…”

“Very good,” you say patiently. You lean up to kiss her, sucking her bottom lip none too gently. “Why don’t you beg a little?”

You see how the false hope makes her tears so willing to spill out. Her hips rut on your thigh, with no rhyme or rhythm—you’re practically begging yourself to help her, but you hold back.

“Please,” she says again, taking a ragged breath. “Please, want your tongue in me—”

“Louder, Tara,” you snap, threading a hand in her hair and pulling her head up, none too gently. You force her to look in the camera, watching her pupils dilate as she stares down the lens. “I want you to be reminded of what a whiny bitch you are.”

“Want you to eat me out,” she whines to the camera, closing her eyes against the redness in her cheeks. “Want…” The next time she says it, it's louder—you release Tara’s hips to pull her panties off, nearly tearing them when she shifts up the bed at the same moment. 

It makes you ache, being so close to touching Tara, her scent heady and thick, ensconcing your every sense. Her hands grab the headboard as you wrap your arms around her thighs to pull her closer to your lips. She’s practically shaking in her anticipation, and truthfully, it’s hard for you to wait any longer. You trace your tongue across the stretch marks on her inner thighs, and then straight to her cunt. She’s all velvet and honey against you, as you eagerly run your tongue up and down, savoring what you’ve missed. It’s so intoxicatingly good that you nearly miss the way she cries out, your name a shameless prayer. 

You miss her weight on your chest as her back arches, and immediately you’re tracing the dip in her spine. Irrevocably, you’re watching her every move as you tease at her clit, making her rut her hips against your face, chasing friction.

“Fuck,” she says on an exhale, breaking the word into two damning syllables, just like the ba-dum of your heart. Tara tears her hand from the headboard, threading her fingers into your hair to pull you closer. It’s a gesture that you should chastise her for, but you can’t bring yourself to resist her.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” You wrap your lips around her clit and ease two fingers in at the same time—she’s so wet it doesn’t take much to get them in. When you look up at her, the glazed expression on her face is something sated and satisfied, like chocolate wouldn’t ever melt in her mouth. A lazy grin graces her lips, a dusty pink rising up on her cheeks as she squirms against you, adjusting easily to the familiar stretch. 

Somehow, you can feel in your gut that she’s being good for the camera, and you can’t bring yourself to take your time. You want everything at once, to make her come over and over again into your waiting mouth, greed your only sin since you were so far past lust, falling into adoration and something dangerously like—

“Please.” It spills out of Tara’s mouth, golden and warm.

“You’ve been saying ‘please’ an awful lot, Tara.”

You wrap your hand, the one not knuckle deep in Tara’s cunt, around her thigh. Squeezing, you felt the soft stockings against your palm as you guided her hips to rock into you, your fingers and your tongue. You wanted her to feel whenever she’d play the video back, for her to be able to memorize fucking your mouth, so no matter the distance, she’d remember. As if on cue, her moan echoes around the walls, in your mind. 

“The camera’s gonna pick that up, you know.” Your voice is rough, out of breath with how warm it is to be under Tara.

Her voice is tight, choked. “I know, baby.” 

You don’t stop, only shifting slightly to get your thumb on her clit, so you can lean back. You swipe your tongue on your bottom lip, tasting her so sweet, and you watch her eyes, fading in and out of focus, tracking your motion.

“Gonna—”

“Tara,” you laugh, but it’s a warning. She whines, hips twitching, and you can see her lip between her teeth.

“Gonna—oh god—it’s—”

“Gonna what?” You mock, flexing your fingers. “You can do better than that.”

“Please, let me come?” Something warm unfurls in your chest at Tara knowing you want her to ask, your perfect girl, even when she’s so far gone.

“Why?” Your question makes Tara still her hips, which is saying something. “Why should I let you, baby?”

She’s quiet, and since you’ve always been weak for her, you take pity. Your heart’s racing, and the heat in your stomach craves to just see her.

“You’re so good for me, my love… why should I let you come?”

“Because—” Tara breaks off with a lovely little whine, and then it hits her. It breaks up into a floaty feeling in her stomach, like a plume of sparks. Her thighs are trembling around your head, and you lean up to smear her slick on your lips, nudging her clit. “Because I’m your good girl.”

“That’s it, doll,” you murmur. “Come for me, Tara.”

And Tara comes, white hot and tense against you, and in that moment, you think you believe in magic. You want to invent something new just to eternalize her with more than the camera, something more than memory. She’s breathing hard, and you wiggle yourself out from under her. Pliant in your arms, she’s quiet as you help her lay down gently on the covers. For you, your mind was anything but quiet. You think you could run anywhere just to feel Tara, and you can’t resist smiling. Crawling over to give her a peck on the lips, you think Tara’s done—she’s blinking sleepily, eyes flicking between you and the camera, so you move between her knees to shuffle her stockings off, skin against skin. You hear her clear her throat, breaking your trance of fondness.

You look up—you see Tara look to the camera again, and your eyes helplessly follow. She’s got a mischievous little quirk to her lips, like she just knows how bad you wanted to see her come, and…

“You’re gonna tell me those dirty things now, aren’t you?”

--

a/n cont'd: 🌝

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[bi-writes]

bff!roomate!simon has nothing left to lose. and it's time to face the music. (part 11/?)

more bff!roommate!simon

word count: 3.5k

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, aNGST, mean!simon, toxic!simon, depictions of simon's canon trauma, pet names (luv, sweetheart, kitty), lots of angsty pov shifts, possessive!simon (not healthy), allusions to smut (18+) ⚠️🔞

large blocks of italicized text are flashbacks.

he found a box of tipped-over memories some time ago. at the back of your closet, between the hastily tossed clothes, a box had fallen onto the floor. when he picked it up, pictures fell from it, scattering at the bottom of the closet as he set the box down.

he leaned over, picking up the polaroid pictures.

he had his head down as he walked. there was a sound--as the doors opened, a plethora of cries and happy calling of names surrounded him. families seeing their recruits after the grueling weeks away at basic training.

this was supposed to be reprieve. the chance to see sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, cousins, aunts, uncles--to see the people they loved ever since they had been cut off from the outside world as they learned to build themselves from the ground up.

he didn't know what that felt like. he didn't know what it felt like to look into a crowd for familiar faces. to search for his father and mother in a sea of happy, supportive people--that wasn't something he understood. when other recruits talked about their families, about the partners they had left behind, simon didn't really understand.

this was his escape. this was the place that felt normal. duty, subservience, the act of giving off control and finding it in the job you were given to do--it had been comforting.

but now he was back on the outside. now he was back to remembering how dysfunctional and unusual and lonely everything had been before this. so he kept his gaze on his feet as he pushed through the laughing crowd of warm smiles and excited voices. he just needed to get out of here. he just needed to keep walking, to not think about--

"simon?"

his head shot up at the call of his name, and he turned to look to the left of him. a few people shuffled out of his way, and then he blinked when he saw someone waving at him from just a few paces away.

it was you. you had your purse slung over one shoulder, in a simple pair of light blue denim and a soft cardigan. he swallowed, closing his eyes, squeezing them shut before opening them again to look at you, to make sure that you were still there.

"simon--" you pushed through a few other people before you came in arm's reach, and simon didn't hesitate. a rough hand wrapped around your elbow, tugging you forward, and you squeaked when he forced you into his chest. your eyes closed when his other hand dropped the backpack he was holding, and you let out a shaky sigh when that hand wrapping into the back of your head, into your hair, crushing you in a warm hug.

you tucked yourself into his chest, your cheek pressed to the fabric of his uniform, and you sniffled as your hands found purchase on his sides and squeezed him close.

"simon--"

"luv..." he breathed, and you pulled back, standing on your toes, your lips kissing his cheek as your arms came around his neck. simon felt his knees almost give out when you pressed your forehead to his, your hands sliding down to cup his cheeks. "i...i-i...missed you--"

"missed you more," you whispered, wiping a shaking hand along your face to rid the happy tears you shed. "'m so proud of you, simon."

"you came."

"wouldn't have missed this for anything."

one of your hands fell, tracing the lapels of his new uniform. he looked so good in it. he looked older. he looked so much better--stronger, more confident, eyes not so dark and dull and sad. he had put on some weight, and there was something so nice about feeling the solidity of him.

"hey! smile!"

both of you turned to see someone holding up a camera, waving at the two of you. you shuffled, breaking into a big smile, and you posed for the picture. you cradled simon's face to your own, pressing your lips to his cheek, and you giggled after you heard the click of your picture being taken. you were handed the photo back, and you shook it gently to develop the ink.

and there it was--fuck, it was so obvious. you were looking at the camera as you kissed simon's face, a happy shine in your eyes, bright and easy and soft.

he couldn't be bothered to look at the camera. all he could focus on was you.

he didn't really know what he had been waiting for. it would never be a good time, a right time. he had been at death's door more than once, and every time he was there, all he thought about was how much he regretted not knowing more about you, not taking more, not giving more.

in his room, alone, in the barracks of a place he no longer saw as he home, he thought about you there, too. thought about your soft skin and your pretty curves, the weight of your breast in one hand, how solid and grounded and real the space between your thighs was. he thought about how difficult it had been to find the meaning and the love that sex could be with another person, and how easy it had been to sink back into that place with you.

he didn't see pain behind his eyes when he tasted you. he didn't feel the burn and sear of some other memory when he thought about spreading you wide, giving you his burly fingers, fucking you senseless with his trigger-happy hands. those memories were erased. they were numb and far away, and he dreamed about saying thank you for making him feel just a little more human again.

maybe that was why he hadn't really fucked you yet. maybe that was why he hesitated every time he thought about sinking his cock inside of you, taking that soft, drooling pussy and making it his own, really his own--maybe he thought twice before getting that far because deep down he knew this would happen.

he knew he would lose you.

it was spring. flowers getting their color. soft sounds in the trees. sunlight warm against your face. it was too bad it was doing nothing to soothe the ice in your chest.

it was so heavy. it hurt, it was painful. in a matter of weeks, more like days, you had lost every person you had ever loved.

your second mother. the warmth of a brother. the kiss of loving sister, the soft hands of a nephew. the truth of it, the reality of it, was that they were your family. not by blood--chosen, because you chose them, and they chose you.

a friend. the love of your life, you thought. no, you knew, because the depth of what he left in you was too deep to be anything else.

it felt trivial to call him your soulmate. it felt stupid to call him your lover. it was more than that, you knew it was. now that you thought again, it didn't even feel right calling him the love of your life--what the fuck do you call the better part of what you are?

what do you call the thing that has always been the same? what do you call the constant, the unchanging variable, the thing that makes your sky blue? what the fuck do you call the thing that pumps your blood and kisses your scars and always makes it back home?

every terrifying goodbye. all the letters sent back and forth, the late night phone calls, the whispers of i love you that you knew were more--why didn't you just tell him?

why didn't you just tell him that this was what you felt? why didn't you just confess every suffocating feeling?

because now he will never know. he will never come home, he will never hear you tell him you miss him--fuck, did he think about me? when they killed him too, did he have time to think about me? did he think about tommy? did he think about what would happen to me, did he wish he could say something, too, do you think he had his own regrets?

because it was real, wasn't it? he loved you. he had to have loved you, because you loved him, you knew this, and you still do, and it hurts, and i want to die, too. and you hate him now, because he did this to you, and there was nothing you could do.

your hand shook as you shoved the key into the lock. you turned it, opening the door and closing it behind you.

you hadn't been inside of your apartment in a long while. it wasn't safe, they told you. but now, it didn't really matter to you. dead, alive, you weren't either anymore. you were somewhere in between, and you would rather be one of them then none of them.

and dead felt like it might be relief, too.

it was dark. every surface with a thin layer of dust, the curtains drawn, locking out the spring. it was still winter inside of here, a moment in time that you wished so badly you could go back to. when they were here. when he was here.

you blinked when you saw the sway of the curtains. a soft ray of sunlight peeked through them as they moved with the wind, and you swallowed hard.

you had left it closed.

when the fabric pulled back, you held up a hand to block the glare of the sun. you stepped backwards, back into the dark, and when the curtains fell again, you rubbed your eyes before opening them to focus.

no. that wasn't right. a figure stood there now, standing tall and imposing. big shoulders, a solid chest, the gait of someone you once knew, but not anymore.

a ghost. i'm seeing a fucking ghost.

you stepped forward, opening your mouth to speak. for a second, you could pretend it was someone else, but as your gaze adjusted back to the dark, you met those eyes. eyes, his eyes--you would recognize them anywhere.

he wore a mask, but he couldn't hide from you. not anywhere.

"si...simon?"

fuck, you couldn't stop the break in your voice. the bloom of something horridly happy in your chest--because your family was gone, but fuck, fuck, fuck--

sobbing. you were sobbing, dropping your things, running because even a second longer without him, and you would lose your mind. you shoved the table out of your way, kicked the chairs, you heard something crash onto the floor and shatter--but then your arms were around him.

he called your name, but you didn't respond. you cried out again, and when you tried to jump, he couldn't catch you. he fell to his knees with you in his arms, weak from injuries you couldn't see, but he didn't complain about the pain. he held you just as tight, cradling you to his chest, and you both fell to the floor in a messy, tearful embrace of two people who couldn't believe their blood-soaked luck.

because you had lost your family, but hadn't lost each other, and even though it sickened you to feel happy, you did, and you couldn't care yet about what that might mean.

"i thought...i thought they..." you had never heard him this way. his voice so low, so hoarse, and you knew what had happened. he had accepted your undoing, just as you had, and he was struggling with the mix of nauseous happiness and deep-set guilt. "thought they had you, luv--"

you shook your head, cupping his head, smoothing your fingers over the mask. you did not ask about it, not about why he covered his face or what he had gone through to get back here.

they can't kill him. he's mine, they can't take him from me, they can't, they can't, they can't--

you didn't remember how long you laid there. how long you spent with him draped over you, his head buried in your neck, the sounds of his shaking breaths.

you love him. i love him. he loves me. but you don't tell him that. and he does not tell you.

he lied. over and over again, he lied to you, and you never batted an eye. and there had been moments when he knew that you knew--you would look him over, knowing what you were hearing was not the truth, and yet you stayed.

accepted the keys to a shared apartment. wrapped his wounds after he had let go of the anger, sinking it into soft, supple flesh of revenge that had tasted so good. when you washed his clothes and saw the water run red, you did not blink twice. all he remembered was you nodding to his pants and telling him that cold water and peroxide would do the trick.

bonded. that was what you were. bonded, through trauma and death and blood and the look in your eyes when he ate your pretty pussy. the naked, glorious truth of you, it was cruel, and now you weren't here.

an empty room. pictures he couldn't bring himself to burn. a mug he won't throw away, the hairbrush still rattling in the bathroom drawer, the shoes you left in the hallway. you were everywhere and nowhere at the same time, and he was fucking sick.

he ached. he hated; hated what, he didn't know, but he hated something, and he wanted to tear it apart. there was someone he loved in another place, and he needed to bring her home.

she needed to come back to where she belonged. needed to come home. needed to lay on his bed and listen to him apologize, and he needed to fucking have her.

he was going to bring you home. whether you liked it or not, whether you believed what he said, whether or not you would forgive him, you were coming home, you were coming home, you were going to fucking come home.

he waited for you. you could see him from down the street, sitting there on the steps, elbows resting on his knees. you stopped walking, skidding to a halt, and you adjusted your jacket as you turned to look around the street.

it was empty. and you were just desperate to get back to your apartment. you took a shaky breath before moving again, adjusting your bag over your shoulder.

you tried to walk past him. tried to sidestep him as you walked up the steps--but that was stupid. he reached over and grabbed ahold of your shin, holding you back, and you huffed as you gripped the stair railing for balance.

"let go."

the hairs on the back of your neck stood tall when you heard the low chuckle, and then--"no."

you kicked his hand off, turning to face him, looking down at him.

"how did you find me?"

"not a fuckin' corner of the world y'can go without me findin' you, kitty."

"what did i say about calling me that?"

he shrugged. "dunno."

you gritted your teeth, "get the fuck out of here, simon. i won't ask you again."

you were forced backwards when he stood up, to his full height, and although he was a step or two below you, it only made you at eye-level with him. you glared nonetheless, trying not to let his size intimidate you.

"i don't want to see you. ever again. leave--"

"no," simon muttered, and he narrowed his eyes under the mask. "not goin' anywhere, kitty. i came to get you."

"i'm not going anywhere with you," you spat. "fuck you."

you blinked when all you saw was the crinkle of his eyes, the tell-tale sign of a smile. your heart squeezed a little at the sight of it. it was unsettling. it didn't make sense.

"i told you--not ready for that," he said lowly. "now go get your things. we're leaving."

you leaned in, shaking your head. "i'm not going anywhere with you, simon," you repeated. "leave. get out of here. i...i don't want anything to do with you, i--"

"liar--" he snapped. you jerked back at that, and before you could respond, he reached up and cupped the expanse of your throat with the meat of his hand. you gripped his wrist to relieve the pressure, but it was no use. simon had an iron grip on you, and he pulled you closer, the front of your lips pressed to the mouth of his mask. "you're lyin'. it's olright, sweetheart."

"simon--"

"no, you listen t'me," he growled, and your lips trembled. you couldn't decipher the feelings you were having. fear, uneasiness, arousal--it was all at once, and it confused you. "y'didn't let me fuckin' talk before, but you will now."

you whimpered, clawing as his gloved hand, but he clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"made a mistake, didn't i?" he hummed. "wrecked the only good thing i ever had, yeah? 'cause i'm a right bastard, kitty, but you knew that, hmmm?" he smoothed a rough thumb over your bottom lip, and you spat, but this only made the crinkles around his eyes grow. his smile, fuck you. "shagging girls i don'even know, fuckin' them, 'cause i was angry--" he tsked, shaking his head, "dunno wot i am...wot i was thinking. was just...so fuckin' angry."

"fuck you!" you breathed, your eyes watering. "i hate you."

"y'don't, luv," he whispered. "y'don't hate me, and that's what bloody kills you, yeah? y'never could. not after everything."

your lips trembled, and your face scrunched up in pain as you started to cry.

"it's not fair, simon," you gasped. "i-it's not fair. what did i do wrong? what did i do?"

maybe that was the cruelest part of this. simon had been the one to make a mistake, but somehow it was supposed to be your fault?

simon had let you go for too long--you were thinking, and he couldn't have that. you were thinking too much, letting your mind fester and spill over and make a mess of what really was the truth.

you just needed to come home. that was all.

"nothin'," he murmured. "did nothin' wrong." he pressed the face of his mask to yours again, harder this time, a kiss that took your breath away. "could never do anythin' wrong, kitty. somethin' wrong with me, th's all."

"i-i can't--" you sobbed. "i-i can't do this--"

"'m not leaving without you," simon growled. he reached behind with his other hand and gripped your hair roughly, shaking you, biting against your mouth. "not fucking leaving, you understand me? i will follow you wherever you go."

you cried, and all he did was hiss, shaking his head.

"simon--"

"you could run all you want, kitty, but i will fuckin' come for you--" he cupped your face with both hands, making you look at him. there was something in his eyes. something insane, something unhinged, and you wanted to be afraid, but simon would never be able to scare you, not really. you were shaking, tasting the saltiness of your tears, but you stared right back at him. "y'can even die, kitty..." your eyes fluttered shut, and his breath was warm. "i'll crawl into your fuckin' grave and pull y'out. n'if i can't get you then, i'll find y'in every other life y'live--" your mouth fell open, slack-jawed and wide open, just like always, just like he knew you would be, "--i'll follow y'there, and i'll bring y'back. bring y'home."

when you opened your eyes, he was still staring down at you, and your gaze found his immediately. maybe simon wasn't the other part of you. maybe he wasn't the love of your life; maybe he wasn't what made the stars align or the pieces match up.

maybe this was fuel to fire. a cup that never goes empty, one that simply overflows. the igniter to something that neither of you would be able to control.

but when the fuck did you ever care about control? maybe you just needed to let go.

if he took from you, then you should take from him. steal and take and bite and growl and make him bleed, because that was what he did to you, and you wanted it, too, i want him to beg, too, want him to lose his fucking mind the way i do, because it isn't fair, and i deserve it, and it is what i'm owed.

for the first time in your entire life, you saw the same in his eyes that you knew was inside of your own. something hungry and territorial and fucking angry--and i am sick and tired of burying it.

simon was yours. yours. and you were going to fuck him until he understood that, too.

[duhnova]

Cry-Baby | Choi Seungcheol

synopsis. decked out in leather and riding a harley davidson like he’s got business with the devil, choi seungcheol was the talk of your small town. everyone looked down on him and when you come home for the first time since starting uni you find it hard to believe that the pouty lipped kid you tossed off the merry-go-round when you were six was some slick haired delinquent. 

pairing. biker!choi seungcheol x fem!reader 

word count: 4.9k

genre. fluff, angst, opposites attract, drama?, kind of college au

warning(s): mentions of parent death, mentions of parent illness, alcohol, let me know if i forgot anything!

this is apart of a 90's collab! you should check out everyone elses fics! - there might be a smutty & more angsty part 2 to this if there’s enough interest! also huge shoutout to @onlyhuis and @onlymingyus for proofreading for me, ily guys <3

When you left for university three years ago you never wanted to return home, the small town always made you feel claustrophobic. But now you’re sitting on a train, about an hour away from your childhood, the sony walkman you got as a graduation present from high school sat in your lap as you listened to the same nirvana cassette on repeat. 

The nerves of being home began to get to you as the familiar views of the old trailer park that sat outside your town came into view. An old pickup truck that adorns the same white and blue paint of your best friend's truck drives down the road that travels along the train tracks and it makes you wonder if it’s him coming to meet you at the station.  

“We’ll be arriving at the station within the next five minutes.” The worker smiled at you as she continued down the aisle of seats to tell the other patrons of the cart that the train will be stopping for a couple minutes at your stop before embarking to the next station. 

You put your walkman in your pocket so that you aren’t scrambling to gather your things when the train stops. Just as you got your backpack situated the train jolted a little as its breaks screech to a stop. 

“Ladies and gentlemen we have reached our next stop.” The worker's voice is drowned out by your music as you stand up and grab your suitcase before hopping out the door with the worker's help in lifting your bag down. 

“Thank you!” You call out and wave as the door closes and the train takes off again, no one else got on or off. 

“Y/N!” You hear a familiar voice call from behind you, the roar of a diesel engine brings a certain comfort to you that you haven’t felt since you left. 

“Gyu!” You call out with a smile on your face, the change in his appearance being more shocking in person than you thought it would be, having only seen him in pictures he sent from the crappy disposable cameras he and his friends like to use. All the work he’s been doing on his family's ranch has paid off as his muscles glisten with dirt and sweat. 

“I’ve missed you cherry pop.” He hugs you tightly as you laugh at the nickname he gave you years ago because you always had cherry lollipops on you. 

“I’ve.. missed you too.” You choke between laughs and the way he was squeezing you a little too tightly. 

“Sorry,” He laughs as he lets you go to grab your suitcase instead. “Are you hungry? It was a long travel day for you.” 

“I could eat.” You smile as you take your headphones off to let them rest around your neck as you follow your best friend to his truck that was still running and emitting a gross smell of diesel. 

“Great, let’s go to pops diner.” He lifts your suitcase over the side of the truck bed like it was nothing before he opens the door for you to get in. The leather of his seats were warm from his heater that left the cabin toasty unlike the train car you had been sitting in almost all day. 

“How are you?” You ask about the owner of the diner who was well into his 70’s at this point, his restaurant having been open for almost five decades at this point.

“He’s doing good, got his hip replaced last summer,” Mingyu shifts the car into drive after he reversed out of the spot he parked at. “Still kickin, Cheols mom still works there too.” The mention of your old childhood playmate makes you smile bittersweetly. The last time you two had talked was before you left for college and he seemed angry about everything in life and he took it out on you leaving a sour taste in your mouth and the lack of communication between the two of you over the past few years.  

“That’s nice, how is she doing? I remember last you told me she was in the hospital for something.” Mingyu sighs a little from beside you.

“Yeah she was, took me forever to get anything out of Cheol about it but she’s doing good now. Or so I’ve been told.” Seungcheol had always been hard headed and he’d rather talk about other people's problems than his own so it didn’t surprise you that Mingyu had to dig for some type of answer from him. 

“Is she working today? I’d love to see her…” Your voice trailed off as you thought about the lady’s son, who you desperately wanted to see as well but how you left things made you hesitant.

“Not today, she’s off for the weekend.” You nod, mumbling that it’s nice that she takes the weekend for herself. 

“I know you and Cheol had some blowout when you left but I’m going to see him later after I drop you off, if you wanna come with you’re more than welcome too.”

“What’re you two doing?” Mingyu was surprised you didn’t immediately shoot down his offer, he thought it would take more convincing.

“We’re going to the river for a bonfire with Jeonghan and Wonwoo.”

“They’re home too?” They had both left for college around the same time you had.

“Yeah, they come home every break they can.. Unlike someone I know.” He laughs lightheartedly. You huff quietly, unsure of how to respond. How do you respond anyways? You never wanted to come back, memories weighed heavy on your heart and the only thing keeping you to your hometown was the friends that resided in it.

“Hey,” Mingyu's voice softens. “I get it, you got out when you saw the chance and I’m proud of you.” 

“Thank you.” Your voice was just as soft as you watched the familiar scenery zip by. A nice silence fell between the two of you as he focused on driving, the train station sitting a couple miles out from the town you used to live in. 

“The bank sold the house by the way.” Mingyu broke the silence, a nervous sweat settled on his forehead as he broke the news to you. 

“About time.” You sigh, another weight you didn’t realize you were holding lifted off your shoulders. “Less for me to deal with now.” 

“You’re not upset?” Mingyu looks at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“No,” You sit up straighter and begin picking at the hem of your jacket. “My father was a drunk with thousands of dollars of debt he owed the bank so I’m not even surprised they sold it to make back what they lost and then some I’m sure.” 

“At least an actual family bought it instead of some corporation.” Mingyu tried to lighten the mood. “They just moved in and they have a newborn and a cute dog that I think you’d like.” 

“What kind of dog is it?” You side eye Mingyu, appreciative of the fact he moved on from the sensitive topic so quickly. 

“A corgi, they said it’s a black tricolor… Whatever that means.”

“It’s the fur color, it’s mainly black with a little bit of brown and white?”

“Yes! See this is why you went to college, you’re smart as hell.” You shake your head with a smile on your face. 

“You’re smart too, Gyu, and not going to college doesn’t affect that.” He shrugs as he slows his speed down after approaching the edge of town. 

“If you say so cherry pop.” Just as he pulled up to the first stoplight the roar of a loud engine could be heard from a distance. 

“I bet that’s Cheol.” You look at Mingyu confused before your question gets lost once you see the helmet less Seungcheol sped by on a motorcycle you had never seen before, his once dark hair was bleached blonde.

“That’s Cheol?” You asked as you watched him disappear down the opposite street you and Mingyu turned down. 

“Yeah, he changed quite a bit since you left.” That was an understatement as Seungcheol looked as big as Mingyu, maybe bigger if you dared to think.

“I can see that, can’t believe he bleached his hair.” 

“He did that pretty recently actually, said he needed a change and decided the worst that could happen is his hair would fall out.” 

“He’d look good with a buzz cut.” Mingyu laughs at the thought causing you to laugh too. 

“You should tell him that tonight when we hang out, I guarantee he’ll either blow a gasket or take you seriously and actually cut his hair off.” 

“He would drown me in the river first before he’d listen to me.” 

“I don’t know cherry pop, you were very influential to him for a long time. Remember how he did your bidding all throughout elementary school?” 

“Yeah cause I tossed him off the merry-go-round at recess and he decided he was scared of me until junior high.” 

“I think we were all scared of you after that,” Mingyu puts the car in park after pulling up to the diner. “The older kids wouldn’t mess with me either because you scared them too.” The fact Mingyu is younger than you by two years makes you question reality as he’s much bigger then you now and has been since junior high. 

“Still wild to think about.” You laugh as Mingyu hops out the truck to run over and open the door for you, he’s never allowed you to open your own door since he started driving. 

“Oh, I guess Cheol’s mom is working today.” Mingyu closes the door behind you and puts the key in the handle to lock it as he stares at the familiar woman through the window that was taking someone’s order. “Someone must’ve called out of work today.” 

The two of you walk to the front door together, making small talk about anything and everything. Seungcheol’s mother greeted the two of you with a smile and handed you two menus once you sat down. 

“It’s good to see you sweetheart.” She smiles widely at you, she was always like a second mother to you growing up especially after you mothers untimely passing. 

“It’s good to see you too, you look great.” You smile warmly, despite any animosity you might feel for her son right now you will never be able to hate this woman. 

“I’ll start you two off with some water?” You both nod, prompting her to walk away. 

“So how’s the ranch?” You scan the menu, already knowing what you want but wanting to check to see if anything new was added. 

“It’s good, Cheol doesn’t work there anymore.” Mingyu doesn’t look up from his menu to see your surprised expression. “Mr. Johnson offered him a job as a mechanic after seeing the work he would do on the farm equipment.” 

“Mechanics suit him.” You smile at his mother when she comes back with your waters. 

“Do you two know what you want?” You both nod, letting Mingyu order first despite the look he gave you after you shrug and take a big gulp of your water. “Are you getting your usual sweetheart?” She turns to you.

“How do you remember what I used to order?” Your eyes widen.

“You’d order the same thing almost every time you’d come here since you were a kid and I’ve been working here longer than you’ve been alive so I have it practically engraved into my memory.” She laughs quietly as she takes your menus. “You and my son are the same in your consistency in ordering the same thing.” 

“Oh.” You could feel your face heating up at the thought. You’re happy she didn’t bother to push a conversation as she went to help more people that came in. 

“You and Cheol are as opposite as opposite can be.” 

“You don’t say.” You roll your eyes playfully. 

The banter between you and Mingyu continued on, even after your food came you both found something to poke — and trust me there was a lot to poke at that has happened over the past three years that couldn’t be conveyed over letters and the occasional call here and there. 

“We should head out now, get you to the ranch so you can clean up and rest before tonight.” Mingyu paid for your guy's food like the gentleman he is and held the door open for you as you walked out into the warm summer air. 

“Am I obligated to go swimming tonight?” Mingyu shakes his head. 

“You’re not but we’ll all be swimming so,” He hops into the truck after opening the door for you. “Just to be safe you might wanna wear your swimsuit.” 

“Got it.” You nod your head before watching out the window again, committing your old hometown to memory again. The drive to the ranch was peaceful and long, sitting a few miles out of town on the opposite side of where the diner was. 

Once you got to Mingyu's house and greeted his family and caught up, you went to the spare room upstairs to unload your bags and lay on the bed to unwind. A quick nap was sure to help the oncoming headache you got so after changing your clothes to be a little more comfortable you crawl under the freshly cleaned blanket and almost instantly knock out. 

A couple hours pass by before Mingyu is knocking on the door to wake you up, telling you the guys are heading to the river now and that you two need to get going soon.

Groaning quietly as you sit up in bed and stretch, it felt nice to not have to worry about anything as this is the first summer you decided to not take summer classes as you'd be graduating early after this upcoming fall semester. Getting up and taking your walkman out of your bag again you took out the nirvana cassette and put in green day instead, the music more uplifting and giving you an ounce of energy to put your swimsuit on and a pair of shorts and jacket to cover yourself. 

“How was your nap dear?” Mingyu's mother greeted you as you walked down the stairs, your friend standing by the door waiting (im)patiently for you. 

“Amazing, sitting all day in those train seats takes a toll on your back.” You take your walkman headphones off and half hazardously shove them into your jacket pocket. 

“Tell me about it, I can’t sit for too long now without going stiff.” She smiles warmly as she wishes you two well as you b-line to the door after Mingyu told you to hurry up. 

 “Couldn’t even give me time to say bye.” You grumble as you shuffle up to the truck where Mingyu was holding the door for you. 

“Sorry cherry pop, the guys are waiting for us and we still gotta get drinks.” 

“Why are we getting the drinks?” You buckle up and put your headphones back on, both of your tastes in music are dramatically different as he puts in a country cassette into the radio. 

“You’re home, they want you to get what you want instead of drinking what they like.” 

“They still drink that shitty dollar beer right?” Mingyu nods. “Then we drink the same thing, not much has changed as I still couldn’t afford the expensive stuff being at college.” 

“Great, that makes this run cheap.” The ride to the corner store was quick, the street lights lining the road leading from the ranch to town making the trees look ominous. 

Once you guys had secured the alcohol you made your way to the river. The long body of water stretched for miles outside of town in both directions, and the one spot you guys have always met up at since junior high was hidden away. You had thick bushes to climb through and poison ivy to look out for as it wasn’t a regular site on the river to be at. 

“Mingyu! Y/N!” Jeonghan called happily when he saw the two of you emerge from the bushes. The bonfire was already large and roaring while Cheol and Wonwoo were already in the water swimming. 

“Hannie!” You smile and hug him happily, he was always the least affectionate person so when he offered you a hug you always took it. 

“How have you been? It’s been years!” He pulls away from the hug to greet Mingyu while sitting down in his chair and pats the one next to him that looked to have been occupied by Seungcheol at one point based on the jacket hanging on it. 

“I’ve been good, college has been tough but I'm graduating a semester early.” You smile at Mingyu who hands you a beer before he sets the box down and makes quick work to strip down to his swim trunks so he can join the other two in the water. “How have you been?” 

“I’ve been great, graduating a semester later than I should've, but I took a light load last semester because I was back and forth to be here for Cheol while his mom was in the hospital.” you nod your head while taking a drink of your beer. You never realized that his mom being in the hospital was that bad. 

“Mingyu didn’t tell me much about her being in the hospital so I didn’t realize it was that bad.” You look out at the three guys who are currently climbing the rock in the middle of the river so they can jump into the water.

“He wanted to write to you, ever since you left it’s all he had been beside himself about but when his mother got sick he wanted to write to you even more.” Jeonghans voice was soft, nervous that the said male would hear your two's conversation and start hounding him for spilling the secret. 

“I wanted to write him too, but-“

“But you couldn’t, I’m not as hard headed as Seungcheol so I get why but I don’t get why you couldn’t have let him down sooner.” You sigh, this was a conversation you knew you’d have eventually as Jeonghan was Seungcheols best friend outside of you and he was the only one that knew about you two. 

“I wanted to, believe me it was never my plan to break things off the day I was leaving but I was selfish and didn’t want to let him go yet.”

“You are selfish,” You laugh quietly, thanking him. “But he’s selfish too, this town holds too many bad memories for you and he wanted to tie you to it when you finally had the chance to escape it.”

“You know, I asked him to come with me.” You took another sip of your beer, your eyes back on the blonde who seemed to feel you staring as he tilted his head back and gave you a bitter smirk. “When I first got the acceptance letter and I was on the fence about going, he wanted me to go but he also wanted me to stay and so I told him to come with me so I didn’t have to choose.”

“He never told me that.” Jeonghan opens up another beer and gingerly takes a sip of it. 

“I’m not surprised, I think he thought it was a joke.” You finally tear your eyes off of Seungcheol to look at Jeonghan. “After that I didn’t tell him I committed and just continued to relish our time together.”

“Y’know, he wanted you to go because this was your dream but he wanted to be a part of that dream and you keeping that from him and then cutting ties with him when you left is what broke him.” 

“I didn’t mean to.” You mumbled and looked down at your half empty beer can. “He was the one that told me that if I wasn’t willing to make things work then he didn’t want to hear from me.”

“Well he’s dumb,” Jeonghan takes another sip. “But so are you.”

“I know.” You close your eyes and sigh, letting your head lull back on the chair. 

“Are you going to talk to him while you’re home? It is the first time you’ve been home since leaving after all.” 

“This isn’t my home anymore.” You don’t bother to open your eyes as you take in the warm night air. This hasn’t been your home since you left and it hasn’t felt like home for far longer, the only thing (or person) that made you feel remotely anchored here was Seungcheol. 

“It was your home at one point, and I'd argue it still is because Seungcheol and the rest of us are here.” 

“Corny loser.” You mumble, a small smile cracking at your lips before you sit up straight. “I’ll talk to him, I promise. I had been prepping myself all week to mend things between us while I was here.” 

“Good.” Jeonghan smiles and downs the rest of his beer. “Now hurry up and finish drinking so we can go join them in the water before it gets colder.” 

“You’re going to die in that water, it’s too cold for you already.” You laugh before downing the rest of your beer so you can strip down to your swimsuit, making sure not to toss your walkman around too much. 

“I’ll manage.” He shrugs after taking his clothes off too before walking cautiously up to the edge of the water. He barely touches it with his big toe and he curses. 

“Told you,” You stand beside him and watch his reaction. “You just gotta go in as quick as you can.” You show him how it’s done as you take a deep breath in and hold it as you quickly walk into the water before you’re deep enough to dive under. 

“Show off.” He huffs before he follows in your footsteps, cursing the whole way up to his shoulders. 

“You did it han,” Wonwoo pats him on the shoulder. “You’re shivering already.” 

“It’s fucking cold and you’re all insane.” He huffs and starts to swim around a little, letting the cold water soothe his warm skin. 

“I think it feels good.” You had popped back up next to Mingyu who was standing with Seungcheol who was watching Jeonghan worried. 

“It does feel good.” Mingyu lets the water support his body as he starts to swim backwards, no longer being a wall between you and the ire of your freshman year of college. 

“It’s good to see you Y/N.” Wonwoo gives you a small smile before he also swims away, leaving you and Seungcheol alone and seeing the look on Jeonghan's face in the distance makes you believe that this was planned. He clears his throat when he seems to realize you two are alone.

“Um,” Is all he manages to say before you’re taking a deep breath and turning to look at him. 

“Hi Seungcheol.” He flinches at the use of his full name.

“Ouch, hi litt-“ He catches himself using the old nickname he had for you. “Hi Y/N.”

“God I hate this.” You can’t be bothered to hide the fact that the whole situation makes you sad and angry already, you missed him and he was right there in front of you and you were both acting like you wanted nothing to do with each other, which might’ve been true right after you had left but as time went on it faded into longing and anger at oneself.

“You hate this? How do you think I feel?” He crosses his arms and looks down at you. 

“Cheol I-“

“I don’t want to hear excuses.”

“Ok asshole I was going to apologize but not anymore.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him so you could swim away, the conversation you had with Jeonghan felt like complete bullshit now. 

“Wait,” he grabbed your arm to spin you back around, the water splashing violently at the fast movement. “I’m sorry, for everything.” It was rare that he’d ever apologize and right now it felt out of place as he had no reason to apologize at the moment. 

“I practiced how this conversation would go for weeks and this was not one of the ways I accounted for. You weren’t supposed to apologize first.” You look up at Seungcheol who was just staring at you silently now, his hand still holding tightly on your arm. “Seungcheol I-“

“Stop calling me that.”

“Stop interrupting,” You huff, the smallest smile forming on his face “I’m sorry for how I left things and for everything leading up to when I left.” 

“Y’know, I spent most of the first year you were gone blaming you, and then I started blaming myself until my mother made me realize that neither of us were to blame and then I spent the remainder of the time just numb.”

“If you stopped blaming me, how come you didn’t write to me?”

“You never wrote to me.” He sounded hurt and you were hurt too but you hated the pain in his voice and it caused you to move closer to him, hoping you could erase even just a hint of it.

“I’m sorry, there was never a time where I didn’t think about writing to you but your words kept playing in my head about how you never wanted to hear from me if I left our relationship behind.”

“It wasn’t much of a relationship then was it, we were just friends exploring each other,” That’s what you liked to tell eachother when you were in denial about your feelings. “I wrote letters, most of them are stamped and sitting in my desk drawer because I couldn’t bring myself to send them.”

“Yet you bought stamps for them?” You raise an eyebrow curiously. 

“Yes,” He huffs, trying to hide the ounce of embarrassment he’s feeling. “I’d get these bouts of feelings where I’d want to send them and I’d get all the way to the post office with a stamp on the envelope and the second I’d park I’d back out and go back home only to hide it away with the others.” 

“Cheol…” 

“I know it’s probably stupid and I’ll just burn them all now since you’re home and-“

“I’m not staying,” You cut him off for some reason. “I mean I’m staying for the summer but I’m going back home to finish my last semester of college so I can get a job at a vet clinic there.” 

“That’s ok, this time I promise I will write.”

“You should come with me.” You blurt out like you did all those years ago.

“I can’t leave my mother, she won’t leave this town and with her health fluctuating I just can’t.” He gave you an actual answer this time unlike he did when you were younger. 

“I get it, she needs you.. But one day you have to leave this place, don’t you think?” Your hand gently touches his arm as you drift even closer to him. 

“I never thought of leaving until you left.” He mumbled as his hands moved to ghost over your sides that were under the water. 

“One day?” You sounded hopeful. “Even if we’re old and married to other people do you think you’d still leave?” 

“I..” His voice trailed off as your breath got closer to his face. “I’d never marry… unless it was you.” He whispered before he finally kissed you, the weight of what he said disappearing as you both got lost in the taste of each other. After what felt like an eternity you finally pulled away out of breath, a quiet whistle could be heard from behind Seungcheol somewhere and you assumed it had to be Jeonghan since Mingyu would’ve quite literally jumped the two of you. 

“Cheol- '' He cuts you off.

“Let's enjoy the night, yeah?” He didn’t want to talk about what he just said, or what the future would hold anymore. It’ll take time, you both realized, for things to go back to normal but for now you were content with how things were because this time he knew what to expect when summer ends, he just hoped that you’d change your mind about long distance relationships. And you hoped he’d change his mind about rotting away in this small town.

feedback + reblogs greatly appreciated! let me know what you guys thought!

[amelee23]

Natural | Lee Minho

Genre: FLUFFFFFF fluff fluff, romance

Pairing: Lee know x gender neutral reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: going on a forest vacay to escape society, SUPER sappy cheesy stuff, SOFT, walks at 6 am, kisses and hugs and everything nice, a chokehold as a joke, humour, metaphors galore, he's cat dad, reader gets called kitten once, I love lino very much, promises for the future 🤭

Summary: You and Minho go on a vacation to a forest cabin. As he wakes you up at 6 am for a walk, you can't help but get sappy and admire him alongside the landscape. Your love for him makes Minho say something that might change your perspective of the future.

You were gently shaken awake a little too early for comfort. First thing you felt was the heft of your eyelids and a subtle throbbing in your forehead; but the first thing you remembered, though, was the way you have probably fallen asleep having extremely soft conversations with your lover, about how far the both of you have come, the things you've accomplished, how proud you feel of each other and also of your friends who you grew up with.

"The sun's not even awake yet." You grumble to him, and he gives you a silly smile.

"But I am!" You can't help but snort, still pushing your nose further into the pillows. You didn't want to get out of bed, really. "C'mon, get up. Go on a walk with me."

"At this hour? Ugh, you're so random sometimes." You say, grumbling, but you start moving out of the bed.

It probably wasn't random at all. If you were to make a guess, it was probably premeditated and he had some sort of intention for taking a walk in the woods at 6 in the morning.

Well, he hoped it would be 6 in the morning but your drowsiness didn't allow for it. He had to be patient, make you coffee and a light breakfast, or else you'd turn blue like the cookie monster and eat him alive without food and caffeine in your system.

You looked out the window as the two of you were silently enjoying breakfast. It was such a beautiful sight, and if you just allowed it, the cherry chirp of the birds in the morning was enough to block the demons inside your head.

Although he had woken you up at ungodly hours, this was the vacation you both dreamt of. You rented out a cabin in the forest, and it was, for once, just you and him. The last people you've seen were in a different cabin 10 minutes down the road, and the center rental establishment that had groceries and necessities was 20 minutes away. Of course, it could prove to be a pain in the ass if you didn't prepare well, but you made sure you had everything you needed - so that you could truly disconnect from the world and let yourselves be swallowed up by nature.

You should have guessed Minho was always planning to go on this walk, considering how serious he seemed about it. While you were eating and trying to awaken your brain cells, he got dressed in a cozy shirt, loose pants and a backwards cap and he was already arranging a small backpack with water bottles and his Polaroid camera. He went as far as packing an external phone battery, too. Then he sat down next to you and waited.

You've gotten to know his array of expressions so well, you thought. He was looking at you, and to an outsider his expression would tell them close to nothing. But no, his expression looked gentle, kind, patient, impatient, exasperated and excited all at once. You could see how eager he was to move, almost as if his body was half-way already bolting out the door. Still, he was trying to maintain his calm, since there was no point to the outside views that awaited him if you weren't seeing them with him.

Your eyes met as you were admiring him, and almost like a kitten pawing for attention, he gently pulled at the sleeve of your pyjama shirt.

You were so in love with him, it wasn't even funny.

He began your little nature adventure by holding your hand and guiding you to the forest path, but as soon as you could hear the crunch of pebbles and branches under your feet, Minho was gone. He walked far ahead of you, as if he was caught in a trance. It was so weird, because in reality all you could see was his slumped back, his sluggish figure trudging through the forest, but in your mind he was running, he was twirling, he was opening his arms large to welcome the sun into an embrace. If only he would let the freedom that guides his soul be seen, without the fear of being judged or the weight of society pressing down on him.

You weren't mad he left you behind. In fact, you were having a blast just watching him: trip over a rock when he was too occupied looking at the height of the pine trees, taking pictures with his phone of every and any flower he deemed pretty or interesting, whispering "squirrel" and "hello little buddy" whenever he saw a critter.

He would turn around and look at you once in a while to reassure himself you're there and that you're safe. (And weren't stolen by some forest goblin.) Whenever he'd make a pit stop to take pictures you'd catch up with him and he'd ask you if you're okay, if you're bored or if you want him to slow down his pace. You'd tell him no, you'd tell him he's so endearing being in his natural element. And he'd smile, but it wouldn't be the kind of smile that shows a collection of pearly whites or spreads from one ear to the other. Not even his bunny teeth would show; it would be a closed-lipped, subtle smile, that you found was the most meaningful of them all when it came to Minho. It was the smile of "I feel content", it was the smile of "I feel at peace". Put in simple words, it was the smile of "I'm happy." His happiness was quiet, that was what you observed. And this smile, the truest of them all, showed in various situations: when he was taking walks in nature, when he was preparing a meal, when he was playing with his feline babies, and when he was spending time with you. You were part of his silent happiness, and you were perhaps, one of the only ones who knew what it meant.

And understanding one's personality, one's inner workings is not exactly an easy feat. Just how it took millennia for humanity to understand the laws of the universe, Minho thought it would take decades for someone to understand him. That is, if someone ever did.

But when you arrived, it was as if you were an enforcer fighting for the preservation of nature. A flower is most beautiful when it is on the field that it belongs to, rather than being plucked and put into a bouquet, forced to look beautiful for someone else. You preserved the flower where it was. You didn't uproot it. You gave him water, nourishment and talked to him in such a loving manner, that now he blooms so beautifully.

He's become much more beautiful than a human being should ever be.

Minho stopped one more time to take a picture of the path, and the shadows the trees were casting on the ground. A ray of light sneakily made its way through them, casting itself on a ladybug that was climbing up the tree bark. Minho took a picture of the ladybug, then turned towards the stray light and offered his hand to it. He played with the light between his fingers, let it roll along his palm, and then he put his hand down. He looked up, towards the sky, more golden strands of the sun dancing along his face, and he took a deep breath. When he exhaled, his chest looked lighter, and he seemed to begin to shine, a light sparkle dusting the skin of his arms, as if he was really becoming one with the sun.

He was breathtaking.

Having finally caught up with him, your arms circled his waist and you embraced him tightly, cheek smushing into his shoulder blades. It was an urge, an instinct, to do so.

He seemed a little startled, but he didn't complain. He patted your hands gently and then he took a picture of your hands woven so tightly around his torso, without catching his or your face in the picture. You knew that because it became his lockscreen after that day.

As softly as he could muster, as if to not scare you off, Minho held your hand and spun around to face you, his eyes sparkly and curious.

"Everything okay?"

"Mhm." You respond, holding him by the waist as if to show you didn't want him going anywhere. Minho loved the warmth that enveloped him. "You just looked so natural, so genuine." You smile at him, and he instantly knows by your grin you were having a poetic, sappy moment. "You always look like you belong right in nature. Had to touch you to make sure you're real." You emphasize your words by squeezing a little bit at his hips and the skin above his ribs, and he lets out a cat-like yelp that makes you giggle.

You become an entanglement of limbs when Minho decides to cup both sides of your face as you're holding him. Your face slightly mushed together, he angles your eyes to look into his, and none of you would win the competition of who's more enamoured than the other.

"Sometimes I really can't help but wonder... what are those pretty eyes of yours seeing when you look at me?" He asks in the softest way possible, and you're suddenly caught in a trance. His eyes pull you closer, his skin continues to sparkle, and a gentle warm breeze seems to circle the two of you.

"Magic." You answer, promptly, with certainty, still bewitched by the portrait of him among the trees. He lets out a puff of hair as he chuckles, but he doesn't mock you. He caressed your face with his thumb and you too feel warm.

"Magic?"

"It's like the magic of nature is coursing through you..." You begin to rant, but figure out finding the right words is quite a challenge. But Minho was patient. "It's hard to explain. It's like you're out of this world ... and yet the most human I've ever seen someone be... The most natural." Minho has heard this song and dance before. Countless of times you've called him a forest fairy, a fae, a nymph...but to him the most fascinating part of it was how you were able to tell. You could see where he belonged, where he shone the brightest. You allowed him to realize when he was happy and not be scared of that happiness; therefore, there was only one thought forming at the back of his mind. A thought, that was of course, completely random and not something he's thought about hundreds of times before while you were sound asleep.

"Marry me." He blurts out, and you blink at him, awaiting a grin, a laugh, a smirk, a signal of a joke. But there was none. He was solemn and focused as he watched the slight panic in your gaze.

"Do you really mean it?"

"Yes. I mean, not now. Someday." He answers in a split of a second. But then, he backs out as if burnt. Maybe, just maybe, he let his impulses get the better of him. "Why, do you not feel the same? It's okay, you can tell me if I'm being too pushy-" He's panicking, and panic doesn't fit his handsome features. So you grab him by the shoulders and kiss him with passion.

Kissing Minho was addicting.

"You're the first person I've ever liked kissing this much." You confess to him after you break apart. Then, you wrap your arms around him yet again and rest your head on his chest, your ear prying in to listen to the alarmed pace of his heart. You squeeze him tight, so very tight, almost like he was a teddy bear. "The first person I've liked holding so much." His heart continued to drum, for he was confused about what you were saying. Was he getting an answer to his question or was this your subtle way of switching the subject, saying that you weren't ready yet? Minho tries to calm down in order to focus on what you were saying. "The only one for which romance made sense." You begin to explain, your cheek still tightly pressed into his chest. You're calm and you speak in what is almost a whisper. "Feelings aren't supposed to be logical, I know, but... being with you is. It's logical... it just makes sense, being in love with you. I can never blame myself for it, never hold myself accountable. Because falling in love with you ...came to me as naturally as breathing; like it was always part of my DNA."

There is a nature in all of us. Cells, stardust, but mostimportantly, love. To love is human nature, fact discovered ever since medieval times. Whether you loved God like Dante, or loved humans like Boccaccio, it is destined for all of us to love.

"Because I'm nature...?"

He was human, he was nature, and towards him you felt only that which is most natural.

"Because you're nature. And I love nature." You pull back to look at him and are startled to see the ocean of his eyes, the reflection of stars in the sea. He was trying not to cry, and looking at you with the fondness of a thousand families.

"Nature loves you too, kitten." Once more he holds your face close, but this time around he leans down to kiss you on the forehead. It is a long kiss. It is a warm kiss. It is a meaningful kiss. "The whole world does. And I do even more." Words like these touched chords inside your heart you didn't even know could be touched. Minho always told you so, that you weren't just worthy of his love, but the love of every single person on this planet.

"Yeah, I bet the world loves me if they gave me you." You say, and Minho thinks you are joking. You weren't, but there was perhaps a limit of how sappy a moment can be until it gets truly too much.

"Ew." He jokes back, scrunching his nose to fake disgust. A grin appears on his face, which you mimic.

And that's all you do for a while. Like a movie panorama, you stay there to look at each other. The clouds, the trees, something must have moved with the wind since the sun starts to line both of your faces. One of your eyes starts to squint because of the light, and suddenly it hits you.

"So, are we married now? Where's my ring?"

Minho didn't expect that, and there were a number of reasons why you were sure of it; one, because he starts to blabber and two, because his ears turned red.

"Well, I uh, I uh, don't- I said someday... Not this exact moment! Uhm...Hold on." It's a good thing Minho was a boy scout when he was young, although he would have never thought his skills would come in handy in a situation like this.

You're confused about what he was planning, but you let him do his thing. He squats down next to a group of small, white flowers and plucks them out from the ground in such a manner that their stems remain very long. Then, he picks a strand of grass and takes your hand in his to measure your finger with it. After he has your measurements, he begins to wrap the flower stems around the grass strand with such craftsmanship, almost as if it hasn't been 15 years since he last made a ring out of flowers.

When he is done, he gingerly slides it up your ring finger and he's proud like a child. The ring is cute, tiny and light, and it tickles your finger softly. It's not gold or diamonds, but it is a promise, and it is so much more natural than forged metals and stolen minerals. So much more Minho.

"There you go." He beams proudly. Truth be told, he is flabbergasted he managed to make the ring actually hold without falling apart. "Now we share all of our assets and you are legally obligated to feed my cats when I'm not at home and clean out their litters." He speaks matter of factly, and you slap him on the chest.

"You only want me so I can do your chores! Tsk, I think our marriage is already falling apart." You joke, pretending to turn around and pout. Minho finds you hilarious, especially as he envelops you from the back and holds you in a pretend chokehold.

"The only thing falling apart is gonna be my wallet when I buy you that ring." You don't know if it's the light of the sun or you're blushing, but your face grows hot. Getting married was, of course, the natural order of progressing things in a relationship. But a part of you has always wondered if you are someone to deem worthy of marriage; if that's something that would ever happen to you. Now that such reality was approaching, it did really feel like magic.

Minho released you from the tight hold and decided to walk with your hand in his instead. He was looking at your finger, at the hand-made flower ring, and his quiet, peaceful smile came back to his face.

"I promise I'll get you a real ring soon. You'll have it on your finger by the time we come here again." He speaks softly, in a murmur, but you hear him. You stay quiet, but he sees you nod. You acknowledge his promise, and a completely harmless anxiety mixes in with the excitement that comes with thinking of that day.

"Does that mean we're not gonna have a vacation here for the next 5 years?" Minho rolls his eyes at your question, and the sappiness finally seems to come to an end; you're back to your lighthearted vacation.

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

"Or perhaps I'll make you live in the wild with me for the next five years. If we never leave we can't come back." He wiggles his eyebrows at you, gives you his trademark serial killer look, and there was never a moment when you've loved him more. Never a moment when you've loved him more naturally.

.

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[featherandferns]

daylight - two

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 2 of the daylight series | read part 1 here

content warnings: drinking, mentions of sex

word count: 3k.

blurb: you join jj's friends at the chateau and find yourself playing hot seat.

“No.”

“Come on! It’s cute!”

“I mean this with all due respect: burn that top.”

Rolling your eyes, you look down at your t-shirt. You’d thrifted it from a shop near the harbour. Born to fish, made to work. You thought it was hilarious, and it was washed and worn-down into comfort. Stretched at the collar and slightly big on your frame, you fell in love. Mimsy? Not so much. 

“It’s funny. I think it’ll go down well,” you tell her, keeping it on. You tuck the front into your pair of shorts before sitting down at your desk. Grabbing your hair brush, you begin taming your hair. 

“This is the first time you’re meeting hot-mechanic-man’s friends and that’s what you’re wearing?” Mimsy says, disapproval heavy in her voice. “God, you really are lost without me.”

Mimsy had dubbed JJ ‘hot-mechanic-man’ after you recounted the story from two nights ago, when your car decided to call it quits on some random country road. All you’d done was tell her his name and that he was from the Cut, and she’d stalker master-minded her way to his Instagram. It was just as you had pictured it to be. Snaps of him surfing, some shirtless (score), and photos of him smoking. His friends were on there too. You’d counted it as homework for tonight in your sleuthing. John B with a head of brown-ish hair, curled and fairly long; Kiara with a brimming smile and ‘save the turtles’ branded backpack; Pope with his awkward grin which did not match his well-toned body. They seemed fun from the photos.

There was a video on his Instagram which you think Mimsy might have watched fifteen or so times. It was of JJ shot-gunning a beer with John B, stood in a yard beside a campfire. You’d watched it too, eyes fixated on his bobbing Adam’s apple, and promptly clicked out of the video. So, despite your teasing, you were grateful for Mimsy’s talents. 

“How’re you getting there? Parents giving you a ride?”

“I’ll skate,” you say. 

Mimsy nods. “Is it a good skate scene out there?”

“S’alright,” you shrug. Flashing her a smile through the camera, you say, “would be better if you were here.”

“Yeah, well, most things are,” she jokingly returns. The smile that follows is solemn. The two of you missed each other like crazy. 

Mimsy looks past the camera into a mirror and continues working glitter onto her eyelid. It sparkles against her tanned skin. She's going out tonight to your usual haunt. Fake IDs got you into a social-club style bar in your local area, where most of your friends went. You missed the smell of liquor that clung to the walls and that uncomfortable tackiness of the floors. 

“You nervous about meeting his friends, then?”

“I guess,” you say. “Kinda nervous about meeting him again.”

“Yeah, hot guys will have that effect on you,” Mimsy returns with a cheeky grin. 

Rolling your eyes, you go to fire something back but get interrupted by a crackled yell through the speaker. Mimsy turns around in her chair, towards her door, and hollers back to her mother in Spanish. 

“Pol el amor de Dios,” she mumbles as she turns back to the camera. “Sorry, babes. Gotta go.”

“Have fun!” you grin. 

“Oh, you too,” she returns with a telling wink. Then she clicks off the screen. Your room is unnaturally quiet without her voice and company.

Checking the time, you get to your feet, pull on a pair of beat-up Reboks, and grab your bag and penny board. Jogging down the stairs of the two-story home, you call out to your parents. Your dad mumbles his reply just as you slip out the door. You take off down the street and head towards the address JJ text you. Your backpack is heavy with beer cans and unopened chips, and your cased digital camera. It felt wrong to leave your house without some form of camera: polaroid, digital, disposable. You were attached like a child to a safety blanket. 

As you pull onto the road which supposedly leads up to John B’s house, the amount of tarmac depletes. Making the rest of the way on foot, you’re only semi-cautious as you start down a dirt trail to an old fish shack that’s only just visible through overgrown shrubs and trees. The echo of energetic chatter which carries to you calms your worry. You round the corner to find JJ stood on top of a tree stump, arms expanded as he tells a story. When his eyes catch yours, he stops mid-sentence and jumps down. 

“Yo! You made it!”

The rest of the gang turns as JJ bounds over to you. He grabs you by the shoulders and coaxes you into the gathering. 

“This is the girl I was telling you guys about,” he says to his friends. 

They nod, wave and smile their greetings. JJ stands behind you, hands planted on your shoulders, and announces your name like you’re visiting royalty. 

“That’s John B, Kiara and Pope,” he introduces. You think you do a good job acting like you’ve never seen any of them before. 

"You're the damsel in distress JJ's been telling us about?" Kiara asks.

Laughing, you say, "that's not how I'd describe myself but sure."

The group smiles. John B nods down at the penny board you’re carrying. “You skate?”

“No, no, I just carry it around for street cred,” you dryly return. Pope sniggers. 

“See! Told you she was funny!” JJ says. He makes his way to the beer cooler. “Beer or seltzer?”

“Beer,” you reply.

He tosses a can to you like he did at the garage. You catch and crack it open, and then take the empty lawn chair beside Kiara. She’s sitting crossed legged, nursing a bottle. The only lighting comes from the porch behind you. Everyone is sat in a wonky circle, lounging in their various seats. JJ has claimed the hammock. Chickens coo in a run not far from the group. The marsh water near John B’s home soothingly laps at the land. Crickets and owls accompany the quiet hum of music playing from a beat-up Bluetooth speaker. 

“You came at the perfect time,” Kiara tells you. “JJ was just telling us a very interesting story.”

“Thank you, for that,” he replies, gliding past the almost-insult. “As I was saying, Priss snuck outta the party and nobody knows where she's at, right? Then, I'm heading out and guess who I fuckin' see her mackin' on? Fuckin' Bradley G.”

"You're so full of shit," John B snorts, shaking his head.

"I swear on my life! I swear on my God blessed grave, Priss and Brad G hooked up at that keggar the other night!"

You glance at JJ's friends and nobody seems very convinced.

"You're not allowed to go to parties unsupervised anymore," Pope says in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Shut up, Pope. Like you ever go to parties anyway," JJ mutters before taking a hefty swig of his drink.

Rolling her eyes, Kie looks to you. “Anyway. JJ says you’re new to Kildare?”

“Yep,” you reply. 

“Where abouts you living? On the Cut?”

“Yeah, about ten minutes from here, actually,” you say. “Thanks for letting me hang with you guys by the way.”

“Course,” she smiles. 

“Oh!” You suddenly remember your bag. Delving in, you produce two large bags of chips. “I brought snacks and drinks too.”

John B gets up and gladly takes the beers from you, placing them in the cooler with thanks. Kie tosses a bag of chips to JJ before opening the other, offering it around.

For a while there’s little chatter as you all relax. Kie hums along to the Bob Marley song that plays and Pope reads. John B’s head is reclined back, eyes shut, and a cloud of smoke sometimes billows out from the hammock cocoon JJ’s placed himself in. It’s reminiscent of how your friends used to be back in Vancouver. Chilled and cool, no pressure. 

JJ breaks the quiet with a groan, shifting to sit up. “A'right. I’m bored. Let’s play a game or something.”

“Not strip poker again,” Pope demands. 

“Oh come on! Why not!?” JJ protests. 

Kie rolls her eyes. “Because you’re a card shark.”

“And because you always end up getting your dick out,” John B tags on. You snort into your can. 

“Alright, alright, what then? I can’t be arsed setting up beer pong,” JJ grumbles, plopping himself down in a seat just opposite you. 

“What about hot seat?” you offer. The group looks to you. 

“Hot seat?”

“Yeah, it’s when someone sits down in a chair and they’re grilled for five minutes by the group. Any questions, no rules. If they don’t wanna answer, they drink,” you explain. “It’s fun.”

“I’m down,” Kie shrugs. 

“Me too,” Pope agrees. John B nods. 

JJ gets up, grabbing another abandoned seat (I mean, are these things multiplying?) and placing it in view of everyone, mimicking that of a courtroom layout. 

“Alright, who’s first?” he asks. After a round of highest-lowest, Pope winds up in the hot seat. He shifts nervously as Kie readies her timer. 

“Ready? Go!”

With that, an influx of questions follow. They range in severity: some joking and trivial and others bordering on existential. Pope drinks only once when asked if he’s into anybody, and before more prying can follow, the timer goes off. 

“Now you get to choose who goes next,” you explain, somewhat giddy with the others. 

“John B, you’re up,” Pope prompts. They swap seats and the group eggs the brunette on as he steels himself for questioning. The timer starts and the questions begin. 

“Blow job or hand job?”

“Blow job,” John B answers JJ. 

“Dogs or cats?”

“Dogs.”

“Do you think the Royal Merchant is real?”

“Damn straight,” John B replies. You frown. Royal Merchant? 

“Hottest girl in the county?”

John B deliberates. When he seemingly can’t decide, he takes a drink. More silly questions follow, most of which stem from JJ, and the group starts to crack up. The alcohol helps, easing everyone out of any boundaries. When John B’s round finishes, it’s followed by Kiara. She takes a joking bow before hopping into the seat. She’s calm and collected under their scrutiny. Rolls her eyes at JJ’s prying queries and entertains your own curious questions. From the way the group answers, and what they answer, you gain a better sense of their personalities. JJ is the next one up. He throws his hands up as he walks over, as if he’s heading into a boxing ring. He then man-spreads in the seat, shorts hitching up his muscular quads, and vapes as Kiara resets the timer. As your eyes skim up and down his body, they return to his face to find him watching you, amused. 

“Timer’s going,” Kiara says. You snap your eyes away from his.

“Favourite sex position?” John B asks. 

“Damn, that’s a tough one,” JJ replies. His finger swipes his lip almost tauntingly as he deliberates. You’re shamelessly intrigued. “Toss up between doggy and missionary.”

“Weed or beer?”

“What!? That’s evil!” JJ argues. “Weed, I guess.”

“Surfing or fishing?”

“Surfing. No! Fishing. No, no, wait…Can I choose both?”

You chorus with the others: “drink!”

He does as he’s told, swigging back his can. Nods when he’s done to prompt another question. 

“If you could travel somewhere in the world, where would you go?” you ask.

JJ looks to you. His answer comes quick. “Anywhere. Fuck it - everywhere! I’d go to Mexico, and then Brazil, and then Argentina, and then I’d go to the Caribbean islands to see what’s happening there. And then Japan and China and all those places, and then a little backpacking stint around Europe and stuff. Finish off in Africa with the elephants and shit.”

The group hums their approval. As you glance around, you get the sense none of them have been very far. Neither had you. The farthest you’d ever been was North Carolina. Your family had never ventured out of Vancouver before; the only reason your parents had settled on North Carolina was because of your dad’s ties. He was born here and grew up not far from Kildare, in Wilmington. You think he might have been chasing nostalgia when he announced that you were all moving to Kildare. 

“You into anyone right now?” Pope asks. 

“Why? You offering yourself up?” JJ teases. Pope rolls his eyes, mumbling jerk under breath. “Yeah, I am.”

“Who?” Kie prompts, curious. 

JJ’s eyes flash back to you and a telling smirk sneaks onto his face. “She already knows who she is.”

The group’s low whistles and ‘oo’s aren’t the only cause for your flushing. JJ’s stare is too. It flits down your figure tactfully before returning to your eyes, smirk only wider. You clear your throat, press your legs together and sip your beer. The timer goes off. 

“Who’s up?” John B asks JJ.

“New girl,” JJ replies, clearing the seat for you to take his place. You gladly do so, laughing at the applause and whoops that come from the others. 

“Do your worst,” you grin, squiffy from the beers.

Kiara starts the timer and the gang comply with your request. 

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” 

You bark out a laugh at Pope’s question. “Shit, starting off heavy. Um…Crashed my friend’s bike.”

“As in push-bike?”

“As in dirt bike,” you cringe. “Brand new dirt bike.”

“Damn, that is rough,” John B chuckles. 

“Thing you like the most about yourself?”

“We talking physically or...?”

“Intellectually,” Kiara clarifies. 

“And physically,” JJ happily tags on. 

“Physically? My wrists, I guess. Don’t ask, I know that’s weird,” you laugh. “And intellectually…” Your eyes downfall to the grass ahead as you ponder. “Maybe my faith in others? I always try and see the best in people.”

Kiara nods, content with your response. 

“What about the thing you dislike most about yourself? Intellectually, that is,” Pope wonders. 

Your smile twists. “My faith in others.”

It was a double edged sword: you’d learnt that the hard way. You wash down the memories with a swig of beer. 

“Body count?”

The sudden change in tone makes you laugh.

“You can’t just ask a girl her body count!” you exclaim through your giggles. JJ exaggerates his shrug. 

“Why the hell not!? Anything goes right?”

You shake your head with a smile. As you sip your drink, you stare JJ down. 

“Alright, favourite sex position then,” Kie says.

You comply with that question. Grinning, you say, “cowgirl. Or reverse cowgirl. Either, really.”

John B whistles as Kiara teases, "okay, girl, okay."

“If you had to hook-up with anyone here, who would it be?” JJ asks. 

Laughing, you look to the sky as you toss back your head. “I met most of you guys like two hours ago!”

“Going off first-impressions, then,” JJ says. You can hear the grin in his voice. 

There’s an obvious answer, at least to you. It’s the blonde who you’ve spent the whole night trying not to stare at. His rugged handsomeness and bedroom eyes mixed with the sheen of daytime sweat and sunscreen that settled on his skin, bathing him in beauty...Fuck, it’s not fair people like that exist. You want to know the recipe God used to make him. Want to keep it to yourself so he can’t make it anymore.

Fixing your posture, you train your eyes on JJ. Then, you take a long, long sip of your drink. Kiara laughs under her breath with John B. You swear you see JJ’s demeanour darken. It’s like a game of who can break first. In the end, it’s you, thanks to the surprise of the timer. 

“That’s time…”

“John B. Get your butt back in this chair,” you say, getting to your feet.

He does as asked whilst you return to your old spot. When you glance up, you find JJ watching you. There’s a shadow of a smile on his lips and a barely-there expression on his face, but you can’t decipher what either means. There’s something uncomfortably familiar about it though. Reminds you of the same type of smile you saw almost a year ago, back in Vancouver, on a different guy's features. You look away and wash it down with your drink.

The game eventually dies down after two more rounds, without you or JJ returning to the hot seat. By now everyone is bordering on drunk.

The energy has amped up and the atmosphere is upbeat. As Kie, Pope and John B fall into a loud debate about something or other, JJ finds the spot next to you. He nudges your leg with his. 

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you smile. “Thanks for inviting me along tonight.”

“Course. You thinking you might a Pogue?”

“Maybe, maybe,” you reply non-committedly. You take another sip of your beer. 

“Look, uh, I’m sorry if I weirded you out at all tonight, with all the hot-seat things,” JJ randomly says. 

Frowning, you look at him. “It didn’t weird me out. I told you that at the garage, didn’t I? That it doesn't bother me?”

“Yeah, but, after tonight…Just don’t want to make you feel weirded out around me,” he replies. 

It’s sweet that he cares about that. JJ seems the kind who talks first and apologies later. Whilst you know half of it's joking, you appreciate him checking that you’re comfortable with it. You’d had flirty guy friends before. Hell, you had flirty girl friends too. Mimsy, to name one. Maybe the different thing here was that you wouldn’t exactly turn JJ down. It wasn’t him that was keeping you at bay.

“Nah, you’re good,” you say. Glancing down, you watch your sneakers fidget in the grass. “I just, uh…I just have a lot going on right now and I don’t wanna jump into anything. Even if it’s casual, you know? At least not until I figure things out a bit more and get settled.”

It’s only half of the truth. There was something deeper holding you back. You could feel it now, creeping up behind you, always looming since December.

But you just met JJ. He didn’t owe you anything the same way you didn’t owe him. And trauma dumping isn’t the most certifiable way to make friends. 

“Nah, I get it,” JJ hums, nodding. “Sides, if you’re gonna be one of us, we have rules.”

“I’m sorry, you have rules?” you snigger, looking to him. 

JJ laughs. “Alright, alright, I know it sounds intense but hear me out! They’re to keep the peace and stuff. Keep us together.”

“That’s sweet. I, too, often trap people into friendships with rules,” you sardonically return. JJ nudges your leg away in joking disapproval. You laugh. “Go on, then. What are these rules? Should I get a notebook or…?”

“Alright, rule number one: no pogue on pogue macking.”

“Macking?”

“Kissing. Hooking up. That sorta thing,” he explains. 

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Guessing that came about after your collective balls dropped and you realised Kiara’s hot?”

JJ doesn’t speak but his silence is answer enough. You laugh. A particular outburst from Pope catches your joint attention. John B and Kiara fall into hysterics and you smile at their joy. It distracts JJ from further rule-telling. Reaching down into your backpack that’s nestled under your seat, you fish out your camera and settle it on the trio. You snap a few shots. They’ll look perfect with a black and white filter. JJ watches you flick through them. 

“You a photographer or something?”

“Kinda,” you reply. “I do it for fun, mostly.”

“Wanna take one of me?” It seems a rhetorical question.

Chuckling, you lift the camera and snap a shot of a grinning JJ. In one hand he holds up his drink and in the other he makes a surfer symbol. It’s cute. Shows his dimples and crowsfeet by his eyes. It reminds you why you were so infatuated by him at the kegger. The way the camera paints him is like a Monet. Before you can protest, JJ takes the camera from you and turns it. You complain as he snaps a shot: it feels unnatural being on this side of the lens. You snatch it back. 

“Dickhead.”

“What? You look cute! Especially in that shirt - I fucking love that.”

You try to hide your fluster by placing your camera back. JJ gets to his feet. Offering out a hand with a smile, he helps you up. The casual touch somehow feels like you're shaking on something. An agreement, to be simply friends, at least for now. So, passing a smile and naturally retracting your hand from his, you follow him to the others.

“What we talking about?” JJ asks.

“Oh, shit! You guys have got to hear this story!” Kiara struggles out.

They all shuffle to make space for you and JJ. John B wordlessly offers you another can whilst Pope recounts his tale. As you settle into laughter with the others, cracking up at JJ’s teasing of his awkward friend, you find yourself happy with the thought of becoming a Pogue.

read part three here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid

[rebelliousmuse]

Camera Malfunction – C.B.

For the Sam and Colby fans.

Warning: oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (use condoms).

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

"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby!" the boys boomed, a mischievous glint in their eyes.

Colby continued "And today, we're dragging y/n and Kris along on another terrifying adventure!" The camera cut to you in the back, holding some ghost hunting equipment. A shiver ran down your spine as the imposing iron gates of Blackwood Manor loomed into view.

"Guys," you said, "This place already feels creepy."

Sam snorted. "It's just an old house."

Colby nudged you with his elbow. "Yeah, y/n. Besides, even if there are ghosts, they probably wouldn't mess with someone as awesome as you." You rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Inside, the mansion was a labyrinth of dusty hallways and old portraits. Their guide, Mr. Grimshaw, started talking about a brutal family massacre that had stained the very walls.

"They say the spirits here are restless," Mr. Grimshaw rasped, his voice echoing in the cavernous hall. "They leave scratches on visitors, sometimes they also push or pull their hair."

You rubbed your arms, goosebumps erupting. "Okay, maybe it is a little chilly in here," you mumbled, pulling your well-worn XPLR hoodie out of your backpack.

"Good call, y/n!" Sam said, winking at the camera. "Don't want the viewers to think you're a coward, right?"

"Exactly," you said, throwing your arms wide and giving the camera a mock-heroic pose. "shopxplr.com, where comfort meets courage. Go shop, guys!"

Sam and Colby erupted in cheers. Mr. Grimshaw, however, remained stoic.

After all the story about the place was told, the investigation started. The camera cut back to Sam; a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Alright guys," he said, "Let's see if we can stir up some of those spirits!"

The EMF reader in Colby's hand whined, the light jumping wildly to red.

"Whoa, guys," Kris said, her voice barely a whisper. "This is intense."

Across the room, Sam held the spirit box device. The screen flickered rapidly, displaying fragmented words: "Alone... helpless... betrayed..." Then, a new word materialized, loud and clear: "SAM."

Sam's eyes widened, his jaw dropping. He whipped the camera towards him. "Did that just say..."

You cut him off, your voice surprisingly steady. "Alright, guys. Looks like things are getting a little too personal." You scanned the darkened hallway.

"We should split up," Colby suggested. "Even better, let the spirits choose the groups."

Colby pulled more equipment from his bag, "Good idea," Sam agreed. "We'll leave one piece of equipment behind each one of us. Whichever two go off, go together".

Kris agreed "Sounds like a plan."

With a shared look of determination, you each placed your chosen equipment on the dusty floor. You opted for the music box, setting it down carefully. The silence stretched, thick with anticipation.

Kris spoke, her voice cracking slightly, "Hey, Luke, could you choose two people to go together so we split up?"

Before she could even finish her sentence, a sombre melody erupted from the music box behind you. You flinched, instinctively covering your face with a groan.

"Oh my god, did you see that?" Sam exclaimed, practically leaping across the room. He pointed at your device, the music box going crazy. "Okay, thank you, that seems clear enough," he continued, his voice a mix of nervous excitement and genuine gratitude. "Could you choose another one, buddy?"

Another agonizing silence stretched on. You peeked through your fingers, watching the other three devices. Then, a faint flicker of light caught your eye. Across the room, Colby's EMF rope lit up.

"Looks like we have our teams!" Kris announced, a nervous smile tugging at Colby’s lips.

Each pair grabbed their ghost hunting equipment, an EMF reader, a spirit box and a camera with a light. Sam and Kris got ready, casting nervous glances towards the door of the basement.

"Basement for us then," Kris said, her voice echoing in the dusty hall.

You and Colby exchanged a look. "Second floor sounds good," you replied, grabbing some equipment and taking the lead towards the stairs. The grand staircase creaked ominously with each step.

Reaching the top floor, you found yourself facing a long hallway lined with closed doors. Colby turned to you, a hesitant smile playing on his lips.

"Which room do you think we should go to first?" he asked.

"Honestly," you mumbled, "I think the kids' room would be a good starting point. The parents' room... well, that's where the bloodiest murder happened, according to Mr. Grimshaw. Maybe we should save that for last?"

Your voice trailed off as you realized you hadn't been paying attention to what you were saying. Instead, your mind was replaying Colby's smile, the way his shirt fit his broad shoulders a little too well tonight.

You reached a door adorned with faded cartoon whales. This had to be the kids' room.

As you pushed the door open, you saw a dusty rocking horse sat frozen in the corner, and a faded floral wallpaper peeled from the walls. You set down the camera and switched on the spirit box.

Suddenly, a clear, childish voice filled the room. "Hi" it said, sending a shiver down your spine.

You began talking to the spirit, obtaining more story. It turned out to be a little girl named Lily, her voice filled with innocence. As you spoke, another voice joined in, deeper and slightly hesitant. It was her brother, William. Together, they painted a picture of a happy childhood cut tragically short.

You documented everything. The sadness of their story mingled with the guilt of being distracted by Colby. You kept asking yourself, 'How can I be thinking about him when these poor kids are trapped here?'

The conversation eventually finished, leaving a heavy silence in the room. It was time to move on. Pushing aside the lingering sadness of the children's story, you forced yourself to focus. There were other rooms to investigate.

Eventually, you reached the parents' room, the centre of the tragedy. The air in the room hung heavy. You stepped on the carpet, fumbling with the familiar weight of the camera.

Colby was beside you, setting up the spirit box. As you reached for the EMF, your hand brushed against his arm, sending electricity through you. You stumbled and before you could react, Colby was there. His hands shot out, instinctively grabbing you by the waist to stop your fall. The sudden contact sent a wave of warmth through you. You could feel the heat of his body through his shirt. “You okay?” he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine, sorry," your answer nervously. You turned around, and your breath hitched. His eyes were on you, a soft smile playing on his lips. His touch remained on your waist.

You felt yourself blushing. The thrilling tension of the investigation was replaced by a nervous flutter in your stomach.

His gaze held yours. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "We should get this done already," he said, his voice husky and close.

"We should," you breathed back, your voice barely a whisper. But instead of pulling away, you surprised yourself by reaching out. Your hand, trembling slightly, landed on his chest. Your fingers grazed the fabric of his shirt. You traced a slow path down. Colby's gaze dropped from yours, lingering on your lips. A flicker of surprise, quickly overtaken by a hesitant smile, danced across his face.

You mirrored his gaze. The weight of his touch, the intensity of his stare, it was too much for you to resist.

In that charged silence, you leaned in, a slow, deliberate movement. Colby met you halfway. Then, hesitantly at first, your lips met. It was a soft brush, but in a moment, the kiss deepened.

Your hands moved instinctively, one cupping Colby's face, the other threading through his hair. He pulled you closer. The distant hum of the spirit box seemed to fade away, replaced by the frantic drumming of your hearts.

The world dissolved into a blur of heat and sensation. You were breathless, tangled in the sheets of the dusty parent's bed.

Colby hovered above you. His touch was everywhere, a gentle yet insistent exploration. Buttons popped open; clothes slipped away. You mirrored his movements, clumsy with desire.

Thank God you hadn't started recording yet, the thought flashed through your mind even as it faded into insignificance. The only thing that mattered was the press of Colby's body against yours, the warmth of his skin against yours.

He trailed kisses down your neck, his lips lingered on the sensitive skin of your collarbone, sending a gasp escaping your lips.

As Colby's kisses traced a path down your abdomen, a shiver ran down your spine with each touch. You closed your eyes, a silent prayer forming in your mind – that Sam and Kris were engrossed in their investigation, that you could have a few more minutes with Colby.

The silence in the room was broken only by the ragged rhythm of your breath. Colby paused, his gaze flickering to your face, searching for your reaction.

With a gentle motion, he removed the last layer of fabric separating your bodies, tossing your panties on the floor. The cool air sent goosebumps erupting across your skin, momentarily grounding you in reality. But then, his hands found your thighs as he separated your them and placed his head between them. His grip was firm yet gentle, a possessiveness that both surprised and excited you.

Colby's touch was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure through your skin. His tongue danced across your sensitive clit. A gasp escaped your lips, a mixture of surprise and delight. You arched your back instinctively.

Low guttural sounds escaping his lips as he explored further. His fingers joined, the intoxicating feeling of his touch.

As his fingers went deeper, massaging that gummy spot, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms.

"Fuck, baby," he murmured, his voice husky and low. "I could eat you out all day." He started making his way to your mouth, leaving a trail of kisses through your body. Your lips meeting his in a slow kiss. Your hands roamed over his body, tracing the contours of his muscles.

His hand cupped your face. "We don't have too much time," you whispered.

A flicker of amusement danced across his face. "Should we stop?" he suggested, his voice a husky murmur against your skin.

You shook your head, "No," you breathed, your voice barely audible. "Fuck me, now." He smirked slyly, giving you a short kiss while grabbing his hard cock on his right hand, positioning himself on your entrance.

Colby entered you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You gasped as he held your gaze with his jaw clenched.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he began to move. Your moans escaped your lips involuntarily. The sound wasn't lost on Colby.

"Faster, Colby," you whispered, your voice rough with a need you couldn't deny.

He responded instantly, his movements mirroring your growing desire. The sound of skin slapping against skin was a counterpoint to the gasps escaping your lips.

With each thrust, you felt yourself reaching the edge. "Oh my god," you breathed, the words punctuated by moans that begged for release. "C-colb-y, I'm g-gonna..."

"Cum for me, baby," he whispered. "Show me how good I make you feel."

You arched your back, surrendering to the wave of pleasure that threatened to consume you. A choked cry escaped your lips as you reached your climax, the world dissolving around you. Colby collapsed beside you, his chest moving up and down as he caught his breath.

A distant creak of floorboards sent a jolt through you. "Did you hear that?" you whispered.

"Sounds like Sam and Kris," he confirmed, his voice low and gravelly. "They must be done with their investigation."

Scrambling out of bed, you reached for your discarded clothes, pulling them on with shaking hands. Colby mirrored your movements, his movements more controlled but a flicker of urgency in his eyes.

The room looked different, the messy the bed, the misplaced throw pillows, it all screamed sex. Desperate to create a semblance of normalcy, you darted around the room, straightening the covers, smoothing them.

"The spirit box!" you hissed, remembering the abandoned equipment in your haste. You snatched it up.

"What are we going to say?" Colby asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"I don't know," you confessed, "We just need to come up with something believable." The creaking of floorboards grew louder.

Just as you were about to blurt out the first excuse that came to mind, the bedroom door swung open, revealing Sam and Kris.

"Hey, you guys done in here?" Sam inquired.

"Uh, yeah," Colby stammered, stepping forward with a forced smile. "We were just wrapping things up." His voice betrayed a hint of nervousness.

"Good," Kris said, "How was the investigation?"

Colby launched into a detailed account, telling the stories the children had shared and details about other spirits communication.

Kris's gaze shifted towards you. "What about this room?" she asked.

Your throat constricted. You stole a glance at Colby, a silent plea for help. He met your gaze, a flicker of reassurance passing between you.

"Well..." you began, "The camera started malfunctioning here," you blurted out, desperate to buy some time. "It didn't start recording anything."

A collective gasp filled the room. Sam's eyes widened in disbelief. "No way!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with shock.

Kris raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. Maybe we should try again," she suggested, a hint of excitement creeping into her voice.

Colby seized the opportunity. "Yeah, sure," he said, his voice regaining its earlier confidence. "Maybe we should do an Estes method here. I offer myself."

The suggestion hung in the air. Was it the best idea, volunteering himself for potential spirit interaction after their encounter? You fought down a wave of anxiety.

Sam seemed excited by the suggestion. "Cool, let's start so we can wrap this up already," he said, shivering slightly. "It's getting too cold and dark in this creepy house."

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 19 - All Hail Prince Charles

As a Charles fan, the day he wins the Monaco Grand Prix will be the happiest day of my life (I will probably cry). also, weird that I legit forgot until now - is that I have not been doing fastest lap...and I completely forgot about sprint races. So, in this reality, there were no sprints or fastest points until now because I wanted Charles to have a grand slam!

So, please enjoy this fun chapter! much love to all!

like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciate!

TAG LIST IS CLOED

You stood next to the entrance to the paddock, phone out rapidly texting someone. With each sound of the turnstile, you thought it was the two brothers who you were waiting for. Well, them, their mother, and Max. 

Apparently, you had gotten the time wrong of when you needed to get to the paddock, and showed up almost two hours early. And, in pure introvert form (whenever you were around people you weren’t comfortable with), you just kept to yourself and waited right by the entrance. 

It was pretty busy in the paddock today. The color that stood out the most was the iconic red of the Tifosi, dressed to impress their favorite Monegasque driver. Even people who weren’t very fond of the sport came to support him. 

Charles was basically royalty. Which had you questioning if you and Max were “royalty” too, since you lived there. But, it didn’t extend as much as it does for Charles and his family. People practically kissed the ground he walked on. And maybe practically was an understatement as you had seen a guy do it one time. 

Your face was still buried in your phone, when someone suddenly bumped into you. You went to apologize before your eyes were set on your favorite pair of dimples. 

“Bonjour mon beau garcon,” you said softly, not to alert anyone in the surround area. You were still keeping the relationship on the down low, even if it had been almost two months. 

Arthur quickly hugged you, trying to make it not seem like a “romantic hug.” Besides, people had seen much hugs much more intimate than the ones you were now doing. Maybe you were toning it down a little too much. 

“Bonjour mon ange,” he whispered in your ear, making a blush cross your cheeks. Laughter was heard behind him and you peeked over his shoulder. 

Along with Max, Charles, and Pascale giving you smug looks, a certain German driver was also in the group. 

Not wasting anytime, you shoved your poor boyfriend to the side (completely missing his “kicked puppy dog eyes”), and jumped into the German’s arms. 

“Seb!” 

Now that got a lot of people’s attention. Suddenly camera clicks were heard from everywhere. You frantically pulled away. 

Oops. 

Sebastian looked a little shy in the limelight, or maybe it was just your imagination. But you were determined to get the cameras off of him. Your eyes darted to the red and white clad driver and suddenly you had an idea. The cameras weren’t focused on him, so it was perfect. 

You ran to the back of Charles and lightly put your hands of his back to push him out to the open. He gave you a questioning look. 

“Just do what you normally do Charlie.” 

Your eyes focused on an announcer with a megaphone. 

Perfect.

You raced over, said a few words to him, and came back to the group with megaphone in hand. 

“Kid, what are you doing?” Max asked, hands gripping his backpack. You ignored your older teammate and turned the thing on. 

With it almost kissing your lips, you started to yell hand outstretched in Charles’s direction. 

“All hail, Prince Charles Marc Herve, uh…” 

Arthur leaned over and whispered with a shit-eating grin on his face, “Perceval.” 

“Perceval – dude, how many middle names do you have – Leclerc!” 

Thankfully, your plan worked and now Charles was surrounded by multiple journalists and photographers. 

You ran back over to give the announcer the megaphone back. 

Looking back at Max, who was secretly recording Charles looking so lost in the crowd, you made your way to the group. 

“Shall we go Maximillian?” 

The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “That is not my name.” 

“Well if Charles has a lord-esque name, you can have one too! Thur, are you in our garage today or Ferrari?” 

He shot you a sad-ish smile. “I’m with Ferrari today. Seb and I are doing the thing.”

A look of clarity shone on your face. “Oooohhhh. Well then, you go do your thing. Wait, but you aren’t doing it with…” 

“Oui, but Sebastian is the guest and he wants me to be with him.” 

Your eyes playfully glared at the German, who held his hands up in mock-surrender. 

“I will return him in one piece kinde,” he promised. 

“Fine. Let’s go Maximilian.” 

“Geitje, once again, not my name.” 

“Then stop calling me a small goat. Well, I mean, I am a GOAT, in a sense.” 

“It’s cute!” 

Arthur watched as the two of you bickered, before going over to save his brother. It definitely didn’t help that Charles was on pole today, at his home race. Everyone was sweating and praying that this would be the year that he took his home race. Arthur was surprised that Max was in a playful mood, since he was starting a whopping P5 today and you were ahead of him at P4. 

He had wanted to ask you about it, but didn’t want to push for information that you might not have been comfortable to share.  

Starting Grid 

Charles Leclerc 

Carlos Sainz 

Lando Norris 

Y/n L/n 

Max Verstappen 

George Russell 

Lewis Hamilton 

Oscar Piastri 

Alex Albon

Logan Sargeant

Lance Stroll 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Fernando Alonso 

Pierre Gasly 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Valtteri Bottas 

Zhou Guanyu 

Esteban Ocon 

Kevin Magnussen 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Christian had asked you and Max to meet him quickly in one of the back rooms. You and Max were squished on one of the couches while your team principal comfortably sat on the opposite sofa. This felt like you and Max had been called to the principal’s office and you were about to get in trouble. 

Christian leaned forward. “Now, Max, we know that for some reason your tyres aren’t doing well in Monaco this year.” 

Max nodded, seeming to know where this was going. 

“But we wanted to ask you first if you’d be all right letting Y/n have the priority for this race. You are comfortably leading the championship as of right now. We would have liked to extend it by more points, but we can’t figure out what is wrong with the tyres this race.” 

Max sat for a moment and you winced. You knew he didn’t want to give up the giant gap that he had, especially since Charles won the last race as well. 

“It’s fine.” 

Your eyebrows raised as you looked at him. He met your eyes and gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his. You knew he was mentally giving you the ok to go ahead, but it didn’t mean that you had to like it. Already knowing the race, Red Bull did not have the upper hand in Monaco. This race was for Ferrari and McLaren. 

The “meeting” didn’t go much longer, but the three of you did talk about new strategies so that the two of you could get the maximum points out of it. You both would be trying for fastest lap and as many positions gained as possible. 

Back in the garage, you whined as you were trying to clip the strap under your helmet. Normally, Arthur would be there to help, but no, he had to be in the enemy’s garage. You were silently cursing his and Seb’s management. 

Mitch thankfully saw your annoyance and came to help. 

“No help today?” she asked as she clipped the strap and then helped finagle your helmet to where it was supposed to go. 

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p,’ “he’s in enemy territory today.” 

“Ah.” 

You looked at her through the empty eye space. “Goodluck kiss?” You tried your best puppy eyes. 

The older woman rolled her eyes, but gave your helmet a kiss none-the-less. You grinned as you stepped into the car. 

It was definitely a sunny day in Monaco, that’s for sure. One of your mechanics held a small umbrella as you waited for the signal. 

“Radio check please Y/n.” 

“So Liam is in town, I saw him earlier. And we both know that this is thee Lightning McQueen circuit. Charles just keeps rolling his eyes. Also, Liam and his girlfriend invited me and Arthur for a double date to go to California for the summer break so that we can go see the Radiator Springs set up at Disneyland. Also!” 

“Ok, radio is working.” 

“Boooooo. You just don’t want to hear about my amazing plans. You could come too if you’d like!” 

“Kid, they gave the signal almost 5 seconds ago.” 

“Oh.” 

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the 2024 Monaco Grand Prix. Charles Leclerc has made a lightning start on his teammate. Did he switch out his car for another? Carlos Sainz is overtaken by Lando Norris on turn 1. Max Verstappen has made a position and is now in P5 ahead of his teammate. Now, Verstappen has complained about his tyre degradation all weekend long. We just need to see how long he can stay ahead of Y/n L/n as her tyres seem to last a bit longer than his.” 

“Mitch, I thought I was supposed to be ahead.” 

“Checking.”

What was Max doing? He had said that it was fine for you to have the priority, but was being kind of an ass right now. 

“This was not the strategy that we went over. He’s being an asshole right now.” 

“Seems like the Bulls are fighting as Y/n L/n is voicing her irritation. I do wonder what they went over prior to the race.”  

Arthur watched as your tried to get around your teammate. His heart sunk a bit as you were pushed off the track, but got right back on. Pascale stood right next to him and put a hand on his shoulder for comfort. He wished he could be in your garage right now, because this was the last race until Austria that he’d be able to attend.

Mitch was finally able to give you an answer. “Ok, you are going to box now.” 

You entered the pit lane and were fitted with mediums since you started on softs. This race was going to be a one-stop-wonder. 

Right as you were coming out of the pit lane, you saw two cars collide right with each other. 

“THE TWO MERCEDES ARE OUT! L/N IS OUT OF THE PITS AND IS IN THE MIDDLE OF IT! THE SMOKE IS THICK, DID SHE JOIN THE DEBRIS?” 

It was all in slow motion for you. One minute, you were in clear skies, the next you were covered in smoke. You had seen George try to go a bit wide, but you guessed he didn’t see Lewis. You frantically tried to remember where they seemed to stop as you continued through the smoke. 

Arthur had watched your car disappear behind the curtain of smoke. His heart sank even more than it had a few laps ago. He quickly stood up to look at the small tv a bit closer. He was joined by Sebastian and his mom. 

“Tu as dit que tu ferais attention,” he whispered. 

GP came over Max’s radio. “Red flag at the pit entrance, Max. Come in so they can clear the debris.” 

“The pits? Was it Y/n? I see smoke.” 

“It was the Mercedes.” 

“But she was right there?” 

Max quickly pulled in and all but jumped out of the car. 

Thankfully, you had expertly dodged the debris and flew out of the smoke. 

“Woo, that was a bit smoky. I’m guessing red flag?” you asked Mitch. 

“Yep, do your lap and then come in.” 

It took you a bit longer to get back, since you had just pitted, but you finally made it. What you weren’t expecting was a giant hug from Max who kept apologizing. 

“I’m sorry for the first move, I shouldn’t have done that.” 

You bumped him a bit. “No biggie. Just please don’t do that again. We don’t need a Brocedes 2.0. Time for a juice box.” 

The two of you thankfully found some juice boxes before you had to get back into the car. It would be another grid start, with how everyone was when they were out of the track. So you would have come out second, still behind Charles but in front of Lando. Max would be behind Carlos in P5. 

At the start, Charles still had a great get away, pulling way in front of you like Max had been able to do in 2023. You were able to keep your P2 ahead of Lando while Max gained Carlos’s position. 

Thankfully, the rest of the race was smooth going. Max had not been able to keep up with Lando and fell behind Carlos and ended the race in a pitiful P5.  

However, the crowds were roaring as Charles finally brought home the Monaco Grand Prix. 

“I can practically hear the celebrations starting. As he did in 2019, Charles Leclerc has won back-to-back races. And for the first time in 93 years, a Monegasque has crossed the checkered flag in P1. Charles Leclerc has done it and wins the 2024 Monaco Grand Prix. It is also a Grand Slam for the Ferrari driver as he had pole, P1, and fastest lap. 

“He is followed by Red Bull’s Y/n L/n and McLaren’s Lando Norris. Carlos Sainz finishes fourth with Max Verstappen finishing fifth.” 

Race Results 

Charles Leclerc + fastest lap – 26 points 

Y/n L/n – 18 points 

Lando Norris – 15 points 

Carlos Sainz – 12 points 

Max Verstappen – 11 points 

Oscar Piastri – 8 points 

Yuki Tsunoda – 6 points 

Logan Sargeant – 4 points 

Pierre Gasly – 2 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 1 point  

Alex Albon

Lance Stroll 

Fernando Alonso 

Kevin Magnussen 

Zhou Guanyu 

Valtteri Bottas 

Esteban Ocon 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Lewis Hamilton – DNF 

George Russell – DNF 

Champions Standings 

Max Verstappen – 179 points 

Charles Leclerc – 146 points 

Y/n L/n – 98 points 

Lando Norris – 88 points 

Oscar Piastri – 61 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 60 points 

Carlos Sainz – 46 points 

George Russell – 35 points 

Alex Albon – 26 points 

Fernando Alonso – 23 points

Logan Sargeant – 23 points  

Daniel Ricciardo – 22 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 2 points 

Pierre Gasly – 1 point 

Lance Stroll 

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Valtteri Bottas 

Esteban Ocon 

Constructors Standings  

Red Bull – 277 points 

Ferrari – 192 points 

McLaren – 149 points 

Mercedes – 95 points 

Williams – 49 points 

Racing Bulls – 24 points 

Aston Martin – 23 points 

Alpine – 1 point 

Haas 

Alpha Romeo 

It felt nice, to be up with Charles and Lando on the podium. It would be your first without Max. Thinking back to the last weekend in Imola, you felt proud. You honestly didn’t care if your parents were watching or not. You being on the podium without the three-time world champ felt like the biggest middle finger plus an extra “fuck them” for good measure. 

You looked down at the crowd and saw Arthur standing with Pascale, Max, Christian, and Sebastian. You tried to spray them to the best of your ability after having almost dumped everything on Charles, who may or may not have cried during the national anthem (it’s ok though because you were crying right along with him). 

You knew how much it meant for him, especially after Jules and his dad. 

And it was great to see Lando, since he hasn’t podiumed all season long. Thankfully, he didn’t break Charles’s trophy (because you think the Ferrari driver would have cried again). 

To celebrate, the Leclercs picked a nice restaurant to go to, instead of a night club. Max, who was also invited, brought Kelly and P as well. 

“So Charles, now that you won the Monaco Grand Prix, do you feel even more like Lightning McQueen now?” 

y/n.89 has posted

y.n89 if you told me that I would have podiumed with lightning mcqueen himself at his home race (and kind of mine as well), I would have laughed in your face. Sad my teammate couldn't join me, but this is for the people who thought I wasn't good enough. look at me now! kachow ⚡️⚡️

and I got to see my pretty boy as well!

tagged: charles_leclerc

liked by redbullracing, y/n_updates, liamlawson, and 67,204 others

y/n_on_top she cracks me up with each post, she did not tag Charles on lightning's picture

y/nxarthur hmmmm boyfriend maybe lives in Monaco, Arthur lives in Monaco, therefore - Arthur is the boyfriend

y/nxollie keep dreaming

charles_leclerc did you seriously post a picture of a cartoon character instead of me??

y/n.89 yes, because I asked you for pictures and you never responded 🤔 charles_leclerc we were at dinner?? maxverstappen1 and???? y/n.89 yeah, and?????????????

olliebearman MOM ON PODIUM

y/n_lives_inmyhead_rentfree see this is for the people literally shipping a mom and son y/n&co a single mom who works two jobs...

arthur_leclerc so so happy for you!

y/n'ssecretbf I feel bad for her boyfriend because her dad is literally Christian Horner, big brothers are Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc, and her best friend is Arthur Leclerc (no one is safe from the dimples)

liamlawson lightning mcqueen is the goat

maxverstappen1 no I am lewishamilton you're wrong there y/n.89 you are both wrong, who has 5 piston cups and who doesn't landonorris preach! 🙌🙌

y/n.nation that whole podium was chaos, glad lando didn't break the trophy

chachanation glad I wasn't the only one crying

rascalflatts guess we have to accept the invite to play at COTA

y/n.89 HELLO?????? BIG FAN liamlawson ME TOO maxverstappen1 oh no

charles_leclerc has posted

charles_leclerc I never would have thought that I'd win a race in 2024 or even back to back races. Thank you to the team. This is for everyone who thought I was done with...I hope I have proved you wrong. For Papa and Jules, I'm home! Forza Ferrari ❤️🏎️

liked by arthur_leclerc, pascale_leclerc, suderiaferrari, and 1,294,028 others

cha16 OUR BOY RIGHT THERE

leclerc_on_top YEAAHHHHHHHHHH

chuck_leclerck I was crying so much. was worried about the restart but he pushed through!

y/n.89 so so proud of you Charlie! Max will let you become WDC next year

maxverstappen1 when did I EVER agree to that?? y/n.89 just now :)

lestappenlove oh my gosh, first Monegasque in almost 100 years to win their home race! history maker right here!

max&Charlie sad that max wasn't there to celebrate with him :(

leclercbros apparently some people saw Max at dinner with the Leclerc family

y/n_best_rookie was y/n there as well? leclercbros yes she was! along with kelly and P

tifosi4ever now Carlos just needs to win the Spanish Grand Prix and then one of them needs to win Monza!

porsche.motorsport with arthur_leclerc and sebastianvettel has posted

porsche.motorsport we are happy to announce the signing of Arthur Leclerc and Sebastian Vettel to our team. They will be preparing for future endurance racing and will be brand ambassadors until then as well. Welcome to the team Arthur and Seb!

liked by y/n.89, leclercbros, endurancexf1, and 9,204 others

endur4nce I was not expecting this today....but I'm not complaining

thurthur I did not see this coming, even after seb was in the garage with Arthur in Monaco

leclercbros oh yeah, I saw that but didn't even suspect anything

y/n.89 and what do we say?? ☺️☺️

arthur_leclerc thank you y/n for setting this amazing opportunity up (not like I got signed because I was incompetent) sebastianvettel just the pretty face for us arthur_leclerc w o w

arthur-leclerc4ferrari I guess I need to change my user

arthur-leclerc4porsche that's better

y/nxarthur this is sad because I looked at the calendar and Arthur will miss the next two races along with the Vegas race

porsche welcome to the family!

y/n.89 when will I get added? I have my two Porsches and haven't bought any other cars porsche.motorsports just sign with us?? redbullracing stay back from our rookie 🤺 maxverstappen1 yeah 🤺 🤺

Vettel-with-leclerc the lineup I didn't know I needed

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

[katmaibearfan]

With 435 Holly, the bear that started me on my Katmai Bear Journey, not showing up yet this year, i am taking a lot of comfort in watching her offspring grow and thrive. Whether they are fishing up a storm like 89 Backpack or playing bitey face with the other subadults like 335 Jolly, they have all been a joy to watch.

503 Cubadult, Holly's son not by birth but by choice, has especially been a bright spot for me this year. Seeing him grow into the large, successful boar that he is today always warms my heart, because the story that him and Holly share -- the story of a scared cub separated too early and the nervous sow who decided to take him in despite the risks -- is one of the best and most special stories we have. We had never seen a Brown Bear adopt a cub before, we didn't know that was something that could even happen. And yet, back in 2014, against all odds, 435 Holly adopted 503 Cubadult.

We will never know how or why that adoption took place -- it happened mostly off camera, and obviously we can't ask the bears about it. But, at the risk of too much humanization, i cannot help but think that of course it was Holly who adopted him. Of course. She is a nervous mother, yes, but she is also a kind, gentle, caring one. When 89 Backpack was a yearling, he couldn't put any weight on one of his front paws for the entire season, and Holly slowed down so he could keep up and changed where she fished so he would be safer. If any sow was going to look at that small, lost, scared 1.5 year old cub and take him in...of course it would be 435 Holly.

i miss her.

[thinemoonshine]

𓆰𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 ♡𓆪

cha hyun su x female reader genre: romance, angst , fluff (because hyun su is a cutie) type: series (but can be read as a oneshot) word count: 1,791

part 1 of series ◄◄ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ part 3 of series

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ synopsis: cha hyun su and (y/n) go on a mission together to find items requested by eunhyuk but then, meets an unexpected danger that threatens their life and death. monster hyun su makes a small appearance ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

"Hyun Su."

(y/n)'s call snaps the said other to whip his head to her- eyes widening and brows raise along with the makeshift spear in his hands. "Huh?"

"Let's check this room," she says and points to a door she then, swings open. Hyun Su follows her inside before taking the lead once they slip through the entrance.

They're now on a joint task to find a couple of things needed for the livelihood of the residents. Okay, well one of them was assigned on a mission and the other made the choice to tag along. Guess who's who?

Asking Eunhyuk wasn't option. Everybody knows how uptight and aloof he can be- for good reason of course but, that's exactly why (y/n) had to go behind his back. She went ahead and stalked Hyun Su like a tail the moment Eunhyuk left after giving him a rundown of his objectives for the day.

"You shouldn't have come," Hyun Su quietly expresses his disagreement to her decision but (y/n) just shrugs and scans the room for valuables.

Contrasting Eunhyuk's constant character however, Cha Hyun Su had changed little by little. He's more vocal regarding his feelings now compared to before and he's less solemn. He's also less hesitant to reach out to (y/n) when it comes to asking for comfort although, it rarely happens. Still, there a lot of things he keeps silent about such as when he was zoning out before; what thoughts were he thinking, he won't say. All those time (y/n) used to accompany him in the quarantine room bore fruit.

"Ooh! Batteries," she alerts with subtle excitement and points to a torn 4-pack battery set peeking out from under a shattered mirror. She reaches out to grab it but is intervened by Hyun Su who quickly picks it up.

"...You'll get cut," is all he mumbles while stuffing the batteries into his backpack. A small smile stretches on (y/n)'s face at his attentiveness towards her. "These are my tasks."

Her smile widens at his proclamation that indirectly means for her to just do nothing. The search continues.

"So, duct tape's the last one. Where can we find that?" (y/n) wonders aloud after they found the rest of the items in the list. She's responded with a tug on her sleeve to which she reacts with letting Hyun Su drag her away gently to the upper level and in front of a door. "Janitor room?"

Hyun Su nods and quickly pulls his hand away from her shirt- afraid he'll get greedy for her hand if he were to hold longer. "I once saw the janitor tape the hinges of the electric box together before the electricians came. I think, he should have one. Hopefully."

The words he speaks sound incoherent to (y/n)- the letters blurred and jumbled in her head as his rapid action of pulling away causes a slight undesirable tug in her heart. But she manages to brush it off and reach for the doorknob.

Yet once again, being interrupted by her knight in shining armor who sneakily slips to the front and opens the door. He walks in to search for the tape and lets (y/n) to just stand and watch. He mimics a cat when his face snaps towards the tape with large eyes sparkling with quiet glee.

"Here's the ta—" His sentence is cut after he takes the object and turn to (y/n) whose hair gently flutters to the side from a breeze. His brows furrow and (y/n) shares the same reaction.

She turns her face to the direction of the source and lips part in shock at the sight of a broken window. "Hyun Su, that window's broken. Something must've got in."

"What?" Hyun Su blurts and throws the tape in his bag before rushing out to shield her. His eyes then darts to the camera before belatedly realizing that the CCTV on the floor had broken down. This meant that whatever it is that happened here, Eunhyuk would be unaware of. No one will know if anything is to happen to them here. If anything happens to (y/n).

Dread fills him as panic ensues like a sprout rapidly growing its stems and roots to every end of his figure- a siren blaring in his head and heart pounding faster than ever. "(y/n), we have to go."

A faint whimper follows.

He frowns, confused by her lack of response despite feeling her standing behind him. So he turns- and the sight is enough to shatter him whole.

A monster with what seems like the deformed head of a spider and a twisted figure of a sea creature with debris and broken glass sticking out of its back had coiled its tentacles around (y/n) who's frozen with fright. Her eyes are wide with horror as she stays still- trying her best not to agitate the monster who only captured her soundlessly yet have done nothing after.

In fact, it's now staring at Hyun Su with its 8 black protruding eyes that look like they'll pop any second- all blinking in different times which rises goosebumps in their skin.

But Hyun Su's much too terrified at the possibility of losing (y/n) that he sees nothing but a target to kill.

SLOSH!

He stabs his spear into one of its eye, causing it to explode and inadvertently loosen its grip on (y/n) who quickly limps to the ground.

"(Y/N)!" Hyun Su shouts and pulls her up before dashing through the halls with her almost floating behind him. "In here!"

He slips into a room and shuts the door before falling to his knees to be eye-level with her who's desperately trying to catch her breath. The monster's tentacle had suffocated her, turning her skin and lips a shade of blue. Her head's spinning from the lack of air.

"(y/n)! (y/n), are you okay?" Hyun Su asks frantically as he constantly brushes her hair away from her face as she holds her head in his hands. His gaze heavy with concern scans her but is interrupted by a large growl, followed by a slam near their door. "...It's going to find us."

(y/n) sees nothing but colours and shapes and suddenly finds herself in an enclosed space before seeing Hyun Su's face near hers.

His lips form words. He's saying something. But (y/n) can't hear them. She's having trouble keeping her eyes open as her chest heaves for air. Seeing her dazed state, Hyun Su then forms a small smile, a smile that doesn't reach his eyes but for some reason, it reaches so deep into her chest. It... stings.

His shadow then swallows her when he bends down slightly- letting their foreheads touch for just a few seconds long before he hesitantly pulls away.

The light then disappears around her as the closet doors are closed by Hyun Su who leaves a gap big enough for air but not enough to replenish hers completely.

And so, she faints.

She awakes with a gasp and she quickly shoves the doors open- tumbling forward as a result but feels something minimally soft cushioning her.

Hyun Su's backpack.

Panic overtakes as she recalls the mangled monster and the life threatening situation she experienced. And yet, it's now strangely quiet and... Hyun Su is nowhere to be seen.

"Hyun Su," she mutters and rushes out the room with the bag only to gasp at the large volume of blood smeared on the floors and walls- but what scared her the most is the bloody handprints scattered around the windows which eventually increased on the layers of duct tape used to cover the crack they saw before. "He covered this. He's alive! Hyun Su!"

It's as if she's a madman- running around the hallways in search of him and completely disregarding the fact that there could be another monster. It's unlikely, anyways, or else they would've came out before.

"Hyun Su! CHA HYUN SU!" She shrieks and drifts to a stop in front of the janitor room where the door is open by ajar. She's scared to swing it open wider. What if what she sees is worse than a 'missing' Hyun Su? What if... he's not just gone?

But relief settles in the moment she sees him collapsed on the ground, breathing and alive- although, battered and bruised.

"Cha Hyun Su," (y/n) sobs and pulls him into her arms. He stirs.

He pants onto her back as she lays his head on her shoulder. "...(y/n)? Why are you h-here?"

"For you," she answers without pause and she feels him flinch.

"I told you to not come for me... If I don't come back, don't search for me," he strains his voice and (y/n) pushes him up- tightly holding his cheeks against her palms with a glare.

"Stop being sappy and just rest up, will you?" She scolds and Hyun Su's eyes flicker between her angry ones- feeling a thump in his chest and question marks seem to appear on his head. "Now, shush."

She pulls him back down to her shoulder and hugs him tightly in hopes to hide the tremble of her arms and the tears that brim her eyes. Acting tough seems to work, thankfully.

No, it doesn't. Not at all.

And yet, as selfish as it sounds and as much as he wants to hit himself for it, Hyun Su feels... grateful that she's so deeply affected by him. That she's moved by him. His lips stretch to a grin as he nuzzles further into her shoulder- shuffling to the crook of her neck to feel the warmth of her skin.

"...If you try to sacrifice yourself for me again, you better stay alive," she suddenly says.

"Alri—"

"So I can kill you personally."

"Oh..."

Despite her death threat, the joyful miens they each wear show their heartfelt feelings for one another.

'I'd like to see her try,' a voice that's eerily similar to Hyun Su's chuckles in his head and his smile drops- eyes turning completely black before they fade just as quickly.

'Shut up,' Hyun Su snaps back in his head and wraps his arms around (y/n)'s waist- unintentionally leaning towards her for security and comfort which causes a blush to creep on her cheeks.

a/n: do leave a like and reblog if you like them because they will totally help in motivating me!! thanks for reading ઇ♡ଓ

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[midmourn]

stupid in love

♡ huh yunjin ﹒ gender neutral!idol!reader, kinda implied lsf 6th member!reader genre fluff, a tiny bit of angst/slice of life warnings secret relationship, i never explicitly mention fem reader but it is slightly implied with the 6th reader + implied homophobia, several taylor swift references and one very very vague beabadoobee reference lol note if you’re new here, i dont (normally) write for lsf but ive been waiting for this song to come out and it finally did so here this is very self indulgent lol. takes place in an alternate universe where there was a kcon in france for kcon europe 🤷‍♀️ also no i didnt look up time differences in korea and france ( library )

“Wow, this place is even more beautiful in person,” you hum, latching onto Yunjin’s free hand with your own that wasn’t preoccupied holding your small backpack. It was night time in Paris, France, by the time you and the other girls arrived. The next day would be Kcon, which you were excited to see the other idol groups perform, even a few of your favorites were there.

The black haired girl couldn’t help but smile at the content look on your face, trying her hardest to resist the urge to squeeze your cheeks and kiss you senseless. She was well aware of the cameras focused on the two of you, and forced herself to subtly slide her hand out of yours. It seemed the media never stopped working, either.

Glancing at her, you ignore her action before following behind Chaewon as she begins to lead the rest of you to the company car. As usual, the two of you pile in the car last, lagging behind for the other girls to get in before you. Chaewon sits in the passenger seat while Eunchae and your manager sit in the front row and Sakura and Kazuha in the middle row.

As the car begins to roll forward, your head leans on her shoulder as Eunchae began filming a video on a camera for the experience. Yunjin doesn’t pay the camera any mind, knowing everything but Eunchae would be blurred out in the final cut, and you two probably weren’t even in the shot, anyway. In the privacy of the car with the members, she intertwines her fingers with yours, laying them in your lap. Her head turns, lips brushing against the inside of your wrist where the tattoo of the moon was before she leans her head back on yours. Her free hand feels the smoothness of her own wrist where her sun tattoo was.

With you falling asleep on her, she was able to put in her earbuds and put her playlist on shuffle. One of her favorites, Paper Rings, started to play and she smiled slightly but genuinely, immediately being reminded of you— and the dream she had of you last night.

Normally, she could never remember her dreams but this one, she immediately wrote it down when she woke up. Maybe it was a vision, or a version of you and her in another universe, she didn’t know. But she remembered the feeling of nervousness and anticipation as she kneeled down in front of you, the ecstasy when you said yes, and the comfort and love she felt for you for the rest of your lives.

While the dream did make her want to kick her feet and giggle like a kid, it made her die a little inside because she knew she’d never be able to have that with you. Not when the world was the way it was. Neither of you would ever have a career again, you wouldn’t be able to do the things you loved like you were doing right now. And yeah, she loved performing and singing, she loved the fans, she loved the girls, her life couldn’t be more perfect— but she was pretty sure she loved you more than anything else.

It got her thinking as she got ready for the flight to France, that maybe she could indulge in her dreams a bit, even if it was just nonsense talking. She just wants to know that you feel the same way, too. That you’re in this for the long run, just like her.

The thought remains in her head for the rest of the ride to the hotel, dodging fans waiting in the front of the hotel as you head in through the back. Like usual, you and Yunjin are roommates. Taking the key card with a smile, the other girls watch you two rush off with childish giggles leaving your mouths.

It’s not until the two of you are laying in the queen sized bed that she brings it up. She’s playing with a strand of your hair, trying to focus on you as you ramble on about all the things you want to do while in Paris. She knows she should focus, but all she can think about is her dream and that damn Taylor song. Goddamn Taylor and her musical ability.

“Jen,” your soft touch to her jaw makes her eyes snap towards yours, and she goes to hold it, keeping your hand there. “What’s wrong? You’ve been distant all day.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she shakes her head, shuffling closer to you as one of your legs intertwined with hers. “Just been thinking.”

“About?” You playfully press, raising brows like you knew the answer already. She wouldn’t be surprised if you did.

Yunjin laughs, “About a thing or two.” She presses a clumsy kiss to what she hoped were your lips in the dark, but manages to miss and kiss your chin. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you murmur, eyes glancing down at her lips, “A kiss is a kiss.”

A comfortable silence follows, just staring at each other before she speaks up, “I had a dream last night. An epiphany, if you will.” She slide glances at you, “Eureka!” The two of you burst into giggles, before she sobers up quickly, continuing her train of thought before she lost the confidence, “And it was a really, really good dream. It’s like my number one wish.”

You smile, “Yeah? What happened? Did you do a collab with Taylor Swift? I had a dream like that once.”

“We got married,” she quickly rushes out before she can talk herself out of it. Your silence makes her heart ache, but what did she really expect?

“What was the wedding like?” Whatever she expected you to say— was not that.

Her mouth opens and closes at your question, feeling her heart warm at the expectant, loving look on your face. You didn’t shy away from her, or close off, like she expected. It was like you wanted it, too. She smiles shyly, tracing shapes on the back of your hand, “Good music. We looked really good. We danced to Lover,” she laughs, and you did, too. “All of our friends were there. Family, too. Lots of flowers, pastel colors. I cry during my vows. You cry, too. Just a bunch of snot and tears. I loved it.”

“So do I,” you whisper, eyes seemingly glistening in the dark.

Yunjin’s eyes search yours for something, and when she finds it, she says without hesitation, “Let’s get married in Vegas.”

You smile a mixture of bashfulness and sadness, “I wish.”

“We don’t really need anyone else,” she murmurs, scooting closer to you, your noses almost touching now. “No guest list. Just you and me.”

“Whose last name would we take?” You whisper quietly, closing your eyes to imagine it.

She keeps her eyes open, staring straight at you unwaveringly, “Anyone’s. I don’t care, we can keep our last names, or combine, just as long as you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine with or without a piece of paper, baby,” you smile, opening your eyes back open to fiddle with her necklace.

Yunjin’s smile grows bigger as yours does, both of you leaning in at the same time to press your lips together in a soft but meaningful kiss. You linger a second after you pull back, scattering small kisses over her face and making her laugh slightly.

“I think Chaewon would kill us if we even tried to elope,” you pull back, laughing at the memory of the leader yelling. “Like she did when we got those matching tattoos without telling anyone last year.” God, the tweets about the tattoos were hilarious. “But it’s a fun thought.”

“I’ll save it for our Pinterest board,” Yunjin grins when your eyes dart to hers in a bit of shock. She laughs, “What?”

“You have a Pinterest board for us?” Your voice is soft as you ask, finding it endearing. She sheepishly nods, and you laugh softly, pressing a kiss to her nose, “Cute. I wanna see.”

She’s hesitant to agree, but with quick thinking on her feet, she manages to grab your attention with, ���Wait, after I make you a ring out of paper.” She sits up, hastily pulling her bag over to her for a piece of paper. She seems to serious and into her task that it makes you giggle a bit, making her brows relax as she glances up away from her bag. “What? I know it’s not an actual ring, but—”

You cut her off by curling your fingers around the collar of her shirt, pulling her down to you with a large “umph!” leaving her mouth as she crashes down into your body. She goes to push herself up but you grab her face, pulling her lips to yours and she easily stops, leaning all of her weight on you and deepening the kiss. Your hand trails to the back of her head, smoothing it down until your finger wraps a strand of her hair around your finger. You pull back, a string of saliva connecting you to her like an invisible red string of fate.

You grin, swiping the string away with a finger, “I’m so stupid in love with you, Jennifer. You’d be the crazy one to think I’d say no.”

“Everyone thinks you’re the crazy one, actually,” she murmurs, shaking her head lightly before pulling you in for another kiss. “Guess we’re the perfect pair, huh?”

[ssvnriseya]

HIS REASON (D.D)

summary - you went on a run with daryl and there was things that got discovered.

warnings: angst/slight fluff, mention of merle's death, mention of sophia's death, mean!daryl, intended lowercase.

note: okay, so this is my first time writing angst. i don't know if it will make you cry! i'm still practicing. :)

masterlist

"dumb idiot." you murmured at daryl and then frowned at him, he kept his serious face on and continued walking beside you on the road.

you both had been assigned by rick to go on a supply run down things like clothes or toys that the kids at the prison might need.

you didn't expect to be partnered with daryl, considering you both like to be in an argument every now and then. you almost begged rick to switch daryl with michonne or sasha. he rejected you saying michonne was busy looking for the governor and sasha was busy with fence duty.

he also said something along with "you both need this, to get used to being on runs together. you can't bicker forever like an old married couple. maybe you might even get along after this run."

you ignored him after that, muttering things like "it's that old jerk's fault. never really did anything to him.'' and "he's the old lady who's always on periods!"

you and daryl always fought. you didn't know where it even went wrong. you and daryl were close back to the start of atlanta, but when he lost his dick of a brother, he went crazy. he snapped at you to the point of ruining the friendship you had.

you did everything to try and patch things up with him, you went to his room and cdc and tried to talk to him in his drunken state, you went to comfort him when he got shot by andrea in the head, you took his side every time shane gets cranky like a grumpy grandpa, you stated by his side when he was so disappointed in himself when you all found sophia at the barn, you comforted him when merle died.

but all you ever did seemed to make him hate and loathe you even more, he got angrier to the point of snapping in front of everyone.

"why can't you just mind your own business, woman?!"

he shouted and then everyone at the atlanta group, who's eating stopped. you did what he said, you tried to mind your own business but you still can't help but worry for him whenever he goes on runs or risks his life.

you tried to avoid him the best you can, you didn't snoop your nose into his life.

"‘ere." daryl spoke up snapping you out of your thoughts. you walked by him and didn't cast a glance at him, you entered the store without much say and tip-toed through the room.

you spotted different clothes and went near it. you examined it if there were any holes and picked everything left, shoving it in your duffel bags.

you left the bags on the floor for a moment and explored the store, going through the toys section, you smiled as you held up baby stuff for judith. it has been your dream to have kids, but under health circumstances, you can't.

you shoved the rattle on your backpack and picked up car toys for carl and patrick, and dolls for the other girls. your smile dropped when you looked at the baby clothes, you sighed sadly and picked up a few dresses and leggings for judith.

what you didn't know was daryl saw the way you smiled when you saw the toy and the way your smile faltered when you saw the baby clothes.

"what you got?" you asked daryl when you saw him by the food section. he shrugged and gestured to the bags that were filled with can foods.

"that's amazing, the kids will be happy." you smiled for a second then dropped it, clearing your throat. you walked away from him and went to the gadget aisle.

you picked up a few cameras and films for glenn, he loved taking pictures of maggie and her ring. you were happy for them yet envied their love. you saw a few comics and took the rest off the shelves, you went back for your other bags and took it.

you went to the exit and waited by the sliding door, you stood there for a few minutes before daryl came out with his bags.

"daryl, are you done?" you asked him and walked ahead of him, to the car with dust to make it look abandoned when someone goes on runs.

you opened the trunk and carefully placed the bags inside it, daryl following your movements. "ye' the food aisle only got a few, took it and packed it in ma' bag." he nodded and closed the trunk.

you nodded and went to the passenger's seat, taking a seat. daryl followed but to the driver's seat, he soon started the car and drove the way home.

about a half hour to the drive the car came to a stop slowly with a loud sound, the engine sputtered and smoke came out.

you went out of the car and inspected it with daryl, "the hell, i thought this car was fine... rick said it was." you groaned.

"it jus' needs a new battery, then it'll be fine." he spoke and you nodded. "never trust what rick says, you trust him so easily."

he frowned at you and your mouth gaped open with shock, "excuse me? what? are you saying that we can't trust ricky dicky?" you stared at him in disbelief.

"what? he might have planned this with glenn and maggie! for all i know you could be on this too." he accused you.

"me?! what do i hav— what maggie, glenn, rick and i have to do with this?!" you hissed at him in frustration.

"to get the 'get along with daryl' plan successfully! isn't that what you desperately wanted?! snooping into my business every now and then!" he shouted.

"i'm not that desperate to get along with you to get us stranded here! you're a jerk, a fucking big dick!" you glared at him.

"you begged me f' months to be friends with ye' again, what am i supposed to think?!" he was turning red.

"shut the fuck up. i don't know who the fuck you think you are to make it seem i am so obsessed with you! you pushed me away without saying anything! y–you abandoned me, you always yell at me when you know damn well i hated being yell at..." your voice broke and tears filled your eyes.

he stayed silent and stared at you. shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"i never get to know what i did wrong, dare... i–i stay awake every night an–and wonder what i did wrong for you to hate me so fucking much." you ranted.

"you did nothing, 't was jus' me." he looked down at the ground, you laughed painfully.

"that's supposed to make me feel better? i can't look at rick without thinking of what he did to him... y–you forgave him with that big of a sin to you, yet me? i'm the one who did nothing wrong to you! a–and yet you can't even look at me in the eyes without snapping." you admitted.

"‘m sorry." he looked into your eyes and you can see the pain, confusion and anger in them.

"that's not supposed to fix things, dixon..." you shook your head and went to inspect the other cars on the road for battery.

"look... you don't understand." he followed after you, you pulled half your body out of the car's window and looked at him with an expecting gaze.

"then make me understand, dixon. 'cause like you fucking said, i don't understand." you challenged him.

"if you knew, you might hate me." he furrowed his eyebrows at you, you scoffed and walked away from him.

"just tell me. it's not that hard." you muttered as you checked the trunk of the car. you found a couple of rubbish piles and went through it, daryl right beside you in an instant.

"i can't." he whispered in an almost pained voice, your heart ached and you frowned at him, he was looking down and sadness was obvious on his face.

"you can't or you won't?" you asked with a chuckle. you looked at him once again and saw he was biting his nails, indicating that he was nervous.

"fuck, don't make this hard for me." he spoke in a shaky voice.

"it's not just hard for you, don't you think it's hard for me too?" you asked, offended that he only referred to himself.

"did you fucking spent a year chasing for a man who hates you?" you asked and he stayed silent, you nodded. "like what i thought."

"i don't hate you..." he said and leaned on the side of the car, he looked at you with an intense gaze that made your stomach flutter.

"really? well, you act like it." you scoffed once again and walked away from him, you went to a few other cars without daryl following you, he was just on that same car.

he was zoned out and seemed to be in deep thought, if you didn't know better you might think he will cry. but no, that man is strong and brave.

you went back with 2 batteries, not knowing if they work. you shoved it to his chest and he stumbled back, making you almost feel bad.

"there, check if it works. and if it does, then thank the heavens above 'cause you get to come home and not stay here much longer." you ranted.

you rolled your eyes at him and walked away, going towards where your car is parked, you waited by the side and watched him slowly walk towards you.

"i've got feelings f' ye'. that's why i avoided you." he spoke in a loud voice making you halt in your footsteps to get away from him when he went by your side.

"w–what?" you asked, not believing him. it might just be his excuse for you to not hate him or something.

"i thought it will jus' slow m' down and make m' weaker." you stared at his dixon's blue, there was genuineness in his eyes.

"i..." you were speechless and didn't know what to say, the man you thought hated you, just confessed his feelings for you.

"it didn't fade. it made m' weaker somehow. i realized i need you back in m' life but it was too late." he admitted, a smile on his face. "feels good to take the weight off ma' shoulder."

"are you serious?" you asked him with concerned eyes. he might be lying and is just playing with your feelings.

"how about, let's start over?" he suggested and smiled warmly at you, a rare emotion from him nowadays.

"o–okay." you nodded, still flustered by his confession. you smiled at him, there's still doubt inside you but you were willing to start over with daryl dixon: the last man standing.

you will forgive him for those months, almost a year, that he treated you bad. but you still will try to forget the pain he caused you with the new memories you might be able to make.

"turns out, rick is right..." you muttered with a silly smile, disbelief in your face that rick was right, only a few hours ago if you were told that you and daryl will get along well again, you might have laughed your ass off.

"i'm daryl dixon." he smiled and held out his hands for you to shake his, you smiled and felt as if your stomach was filled with butterflies. you felt warm and accepted his hands, saying your name.

and it's the start of a new story.

[allforthegaymes]

Neil josten and his disposable cameras against the world.

Neil josten who has spent his entire life ducking away from photos, whose heart still beats a little faster when he sees a photo blown up for a poster on the side of the stadium when the season starts up again. Who sees a news article about himself go up and refuses to read it, trusting his pr manager (and andrew) to make sure anything posted about him isnt something weird.

Neil josten with a different disposable camera tucked into the pockets of every pair of jeans, each backpack and duffel bag, and shoved into nearly any crevice of the apartment.

(Andrew fishes at least one a month out of the dryer after they get forgotten in Neils jeans)

At first Abby had suggested it as a way to get more used to hearing a camera flash and associate it with something positive.

So theres rolls and rolls of film developed around the dorm, photos of the foxes, the stadium when the sun sets over it and lights the sky up orange. Blurry photos from Edens of Aaron and Nicky dancing to ABBA, photographed right after is a picture of both of them leaning on the bar wall outside crying into their phones trying to call Katelyn and Erik.

(Andrew corrals them into the car when he realizes that Aaron and Nicky drunkenly called one another and had been blabbering to one another from just over a foot away thinking they’d actually called their respective partners)

A series of photos of Kevin drunk and half leaning over the bar trying to snag someone elses drink that Roland is in the middle of mixing, showing Roland darting back and forth trying to dodge Kevins long reach.

Another photo of Kevin being dragged out of Edens by security, Rolands mixer held up victoriously in his hand as he’s brought outside.

A picture of Allison leaning against her pink convertible. Her hair is tossed back behind her and her mouth is open with a loud bark of laughter. She’d glared at Neil after for taking a picture of her unaware but she has the photo pinned up in the girls dorm room anyways.

Photos of all the cats at the shelter when they decide to adopt Sir. Most of the photos are of Sir. Nearly all of them looking identical because of the Persian’s inability to not have a permanent glare on his face.

The cycle repeats when they get King. The Scottish Folds face etched with a permanently shocked look.

Theres a photo of her on the bathroom counter, feet blurry in the bottom of the photo but its clear shes trying to scramble backwards, the edge of a hair tie looped around the sink faucet and the other half lodged in her mouth as she tries valiantly to pull it loose without getting it in the water spray as Andrew washes his face in the mirrors reflection.

Andrew takes up the majority of the photos. Sure there’s hundreds pictures of the other foxes scattered about but Andrew is always Neil’s main focus.

Wether its actually Andrew framed front and center, always trying to give his typical unimpressed look but constantly betrayed by the uptick of the corners of his mouth, the slightest peak of his teeth when he closes his eyes at the beginning of a tired smile towards Neil.

Or if its not related to Andrew, the essence of him always ends up leaking in. The curl of cigarette smoke at the bottom of a photo of the sunset view from the top of Fox Tower. The reflection of his arm bands in the photo Neil snapped of the Maserati in the rain.

Neil’s favorites are the ones of him and Andrew in their house after theyve gone pro. Its a cozy house out in Washington, close enough to the Seattle team that they can comfortably commute each day without having to actually live within the city.

The lighting is always half shit because of the constant overcast sky outside. But the array of lamps inside always try their best to make the photos look orange and cozy.

Andrew sat asleep in Neils armchair. The bright orange fabric something that Andrew had huffed and rolled his eyes at, but constantly found himself in instead of the black designer chaise Andrew had bought. Both cats are on him. Sir sat on his shoulder glaring down at King, who is in the process of trying to eat his hoodie strings.

Andrew stood in the kitchen, his bare back turned towards Neil as he pours a smoothie out from the blender, arm already reached behind him and holding Neil’s smoothie glass out towards him.

Andrew a half second later, turned looking startled over his shoulder in shock from the sound of the camera shutter as Neils smoothie is caught in motion falling to the floor. Another photo following of Neil hunched over on the floor sweeping up glass.

A photo of Andrew stood with his hip cocked looking up at the light fixture on the ceiling, arms crossed in front of his chest as he stares up at it, the light half ripped out of the ceiling when he’d gotten the midnight urge to change it and then quickly remembered he was a professional athlete and not an electrician.

Andrew hunched over in the engine of a Mustang. The cars an obnoxious bright yellow, two black racing stripes gone up the middle of the hood. His hands are covered in grease and theres a streak of grease running through his short blonde hair as well. Theres a wrench in his hand and a jug of some fluid propped on the engine that Neil doesnt care enough to understand what its for.

And Neil knows the foxes start taking more pictures of him, can hear the camera shutter or see the flash going off but doesnt flinch away or try to sidestep out of the way anymore. Doesnt care that theres evidence of Neil Josten being a real man that exists and lives a real life outside of fake IDs and lies, because he has photos of the life he’s created for himself as well.