#going into winter break wondering if this is the end of the road if the mclaren fucked him up so bad that he can't come back from it

[danthropologie]

Daniels whole demeanour and confidence at the gp though. He was absolutely walking and was feeling himself which makes me soso hopeful esp from his comments about next year and the stuff about the sim too. And him wanting himself to race, the belief in himself to go out and do what he loves!! I think the whole things with the fans and support is just a bonus tbh, like I do believe he would’ve decided he wants to come back either way with or without the huge reaction he was getting at the weekend but I like to think it shows him how supported and loved he is.

right and it was also such a nice (and interesting) progression from the launch as well, where even then he was SO excited and it felt like he probably kinda already knew that he wanted to get back on the grid, even if he wasn't quite ready to say it yet 🤧

[eilidh-eternal]

You have a secret

Part of the Metanoia series | Part 1 | Masterlist |

| SingleDad!Johnny x f!reader | 18+ MDNI | CW death of a loved one, grief, attempted SA, Johnny and reader are going through it |

Glasgow is cold in January.

Hogmanay came and went with the typical rambunctious celebrations, every bar and pub in the city overflowing with patrons that spill out onto the pavement and the streets, properly drunk and stumbling over one another as they make their way to the next bar. Some of your coworkers invited you out for a bar crawl, just as they did last year, but you’d decided going out in the freezing weather and nursing a hangover at work in the morning isn’t worth the trouble. So home you stay, curled up with cheap Tesco sparkling wine and the last book on your reading list for the year, the tv playing a montage of celebrations across the city quietly in the background, and you slink off to bed just as the fireworks settle and the night falls quiet.

The days that follow are quiet too, the first week of the new year creeping along in the hazy in between, that little reset that comes between the holiday season and the yawning winter that looms before you, corporate deadlines and end of fiscal year reports that will start to pile up soon. You enjoy the quiet calm of that in between, try to remember what it feels like to be able to step away from your desk and take a lap around the office to stretch your legs before you’re inundated with so many reports you hardly have time to break away to use the restroom. 

Johnny frequents your thoughts more than you'd like to admit as you stroll around the office floor, wondering if he's operating in the same lull as you are, biding his time until his next assignment with dull busywork and monotonous routine. Wondering if he and Isobel had celebrated Hogmanay at home like you had or if maybe he’d taken her to a friends flat with him, one of his team members. Wondered if he let her stay up late with him and counted down the fireworks display together, or if he tucked her into a spare bedroom some hours before, waking her up just in time to see them and take her home to her own bed for the night. 

The growing tinge of disappointment hung like storm clouds over your mood when you hadn’t seen much of them in the days leading up to the new year, and you began to think maybe all the smiles, all the double entendres, were just a friendly personality and polite kindness on his part; just a neighbor being neighborly. There was an exchange of phone numbers with the offer to call or text one another if the other ever needed anything after dinner several weeks ago. Hardly an invitation for conversation. Another polite exchange and thanks for your mutual goodwill. 

Pretending not to care, to resist the urge to check your phone whenever it vibrates on your desk or in your back pocket, takes more effort than you had expected. It’s not him. Why would it be him? It’s not like he said he would call.

But Johnny has a habit of surprising you.

Snow and lights and festive wreaths don’t hold the same wonderment they used to. They all remind him of her. Remind him how she always insisted on a big family dinner. How she was always the one who invited everyone to their home and always had his favorite scotch on hand to toast with at midnight. The lights remind him of flashing red and blue, screaming sirens that cut through the air like the mournful wail of a banshee. The snow covered roads look too much like the roads did that day, tires slipping and sliding, the tail end of his car nearly spinning him out on the highway in his desperation to get to her. 

And the quiet.

The quiet of the world when snow falls and blankets the earth in layers of glittering sorrow makes the silence deafening. Her laughter doesn’t echo Isobels, there are no footsteps mirrored in the snow beside hers, and the tiny angel in the front yard stares up at the clouds where its missing guardian watches over them. It’s hard, for both of them. Isobel doesn't remember the accident, doesn’t remember riding in the ambulance with her mother or the way the security guard and several nurses had to hold Johnny back when she coded. She doesn't remember the tears, the anger, the denial of everything unfolding in front of him, crumbling around him and knocking the air from his lungs, leaving him crumpled on the floor outside her room. 

Isobel didn’t see how he sat slumped against the wall with his head between his knees, arms folded over his legs and fingers digging into his skin until the blunt edges of his nails drew blood. She never saw the procession of doctors and nurses that slowly filed out of the room, the only sound in the somber silence the soft tapping of rubber soles on tile. No beeping from monitors, no clicks and whooshes of the ventilator. Heavy, suffocating silence.

The social worker sat with him, let him fall apart right there on the hospital floor, a sympathetic hand resting on his trembling shoulder as he poured his heart out onto the cold, sterile white tile beneath him. When the silence became unbearable, when it started clawing at his skull and slicing into his skin like razor wire, he let her fill it. He listened to her tell him that Isobel is okay–scared, in shock–but alive and breathing. Lets her lead him through more sterile hallways to an office where another social worker does their best to occupy the tiny girl, but the minute Johnny walks through that door she’s all trembling hands and watery eyes, wobbly chin and confused tears.

He does his best not to let her see it, not when the snow is still full of magic and the lights still make her eyes bright with joy, pure and unbridled. But it's hard to hide the grief that dulls his own, the wintery haze that hardens them into icy pools that long for the warmth of summer skies. It’s hard to step outside and breathe the crisp winter air and not feel his throat constrict, feel the warmth seep from his body, replaced with the empty cold of a world without her in it.

Sometimes he can hear little bits of her in the way Isobel laughs, can see the same stubborn crease of her brow when she can’t quite figure something out and refuses to ask for his help. He sees the same light and spark in her eyes, the same mischief that they once shared through the years, and he can't bear to dim that light, to extinguish the joy and happiness that lives there.

It was a quiet holiday for the two of them. No big parties, no dinner and drinks, despite John's invitation. Just Johnny and Isobel, cuddled up together on the couch watching movies and sharing bites of whatever snack or dessert the other brought with them. He thought about texting you, asking if you had plans to go out, or maybe stay in. Isobel came trotting back from the kitchen, one of the cookies the two of you had made together in-hand, and clambered onto his lap, peering at the unsent message to you on his phone screen.

“What’s it say?” She squints her little eyes at the letters, still not quite able to put the words together.

“Nothin’, leannan.” The words disappear from the text field and he tosses his phone aside to settle his arms around her. “Did ye bring one for me?” She shakes her head no but breaks off a chunk and offers it up to him. “Thank ye.” He leans forward to take it from her, takes the bite straight from her hand, and her delighted giggles fill the gaping hole in his chest with comforting warmth.

Cinnamon and pine still lingers in the air, mingled with the scent of paper and ink, with the warm coffee several customers clutch between cold fingers. With boxing day and the holidays behind them, the shops are much less overwhelming at this time of year, most of the aisles in the book store blessedly empty and the silence only occasionally interrupted by the fluttering of pages or soft footsteps on carpeted floors. The perfect atmosphere for strolling between shelves and taking the time to read more than the blurb on the inside cover of a book before adding it to the small collection already cradled in your arms. It’s the perfect, quiet afternoon until it’s not. Until the silence is broken and every hair on the back of your neck is standing at attention.

“Well, lookit you. Pretty little thing, aren’t ya?” The words are clumsily spoken, slurred and hot against your cheek where his breath fans across clammy skin, sour and putrid, reeking of alcohol and god knows what else. He plucks the book from your hands, works hard to focus his eyes as he surveys the cover art and skims through a passage from the middle of the book. You stumble back a step, heels catching on the shelf behind you and nearly sending a few of the more precariously shelved titles tumbling to the ground. He follows, the only space between him and you created by the book in his hands, and you clutch your little stack tighter to your chest, willing hardbacks and delicate pages to become armor. “This isn’t the kinda stuff a little lady should be readin’.” He waves the book in your face, braces a hand on the shelf beside your head when he teeters off balance, and leans far too close, crowds you back against the shelf until the wood digs into your shoulder blades.

A glance at either end of the aisle reveals nothing but empty rows of shelves and not a soul in sight, no one to come to your rescue.

“I-I can read what I want. Please leave me alone, sir.”

“This is pure filth,” he sneers, shoving the book back at you. It lands on the floor at your feet with a fluttering ‘thump’ and the shelving behind you creaks as you try to maintain some distance from him. You wish that the novels at your back would open their covers and draw you in, hide you between the inked words within their pages. “Worse than porn, this is. ‘S not even any good. Why read this shite when you can have the real thing?” His hand dips down to fumble with something beneath his coat and you hear the metal teeth of a zipper unfurling.

You know what’s happening, know what you’ll see if you look down. You know that you should push and shove and yell and scream, but you can’t. Fear and realization settle heavy against your body, fog your mind with a haze so thick your vision turns blurry at the edges, and when you open your mouth to speak the only thing that comes out is a strangled, muted gasp as he presses his full body weight against you, searing heat pressed firm against your stomach and pinning you in place. 

Everything feels slow and blurry. Like you're underwater, trying to run across the bottom of the ocean, salt water stinging your eyes. The dread that weighs so heavily on your chest keeps you there, refusing to let you surface, refusing to let you draw more than shallow breaths that feel like lungfuls of water instead.

Something cuts through the depths. A noise. Someone's shouting. Angry. And then that weight on your chest, the weight that pins your body to the shelf, is gone. You still can’t breathe, salt water still blurs your vision, distorts the movement in front of you and leaves you disoriented, unsteady on your own feet. There’s more noise, softer this time.

An employee. She’s asking you something. Asking if you’re ok. You let her guide you, away from the aisle to a back room to sit in a chair and drink water from a paper cup while she calls the police. She stays with you until they get there and while they ask you questions, sits in silent support beside you and refills your water when you need it. The police leave, tell you that if they see the man he’ll be picked up, and the younger woman asks if you want to call someone to get you, to drive you home.

The thought of anyone else seeing you, talking to you, trying to touch you, makes your stomach twist with nausea. So you drive yourself home, empty book bag tossed in the seat beside you, no music to fill the silence. You don’t quite know how you got there, sitting in your car outside your house. Can’t remember making the turn down your street or how long ago you killed the engine.

Long enough for Johnny to take notice, it seems. He’s knocking on the window, calling your name, and it startles you. Drags you up from the quiet depths of your mind and sets your heart racing. Too fast. Too much. The car is too small, the seat belt too tight across your chest, and you need out. He nearly gets hit with the door, dodges heavy metal as it swings open suddenly, and his brows slope together in concern when he sees your shaking hands, sees the way you won’t look at his face.

“Wa’s wrong, bonnie? Wha’ hap-” You shove the door closed behind you, brush him off and skitter around him, won’t come within more than a few meters of him, and he calls after you as you climb the stairs to your door, hurriedly fitting the key in the lock. “Have I done-” 

You don't hear the rest of his sentence, and Johnny is left dumbstruck at the bottom of the steps, the slam of your front door and the sound of the deadbolt clicking into place ringing in his ears like he’s stood too close to a grenade.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

[sfehvn]

new religion

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Description: AU- Astarion is enamored by you, and while he fights it at first, he may have just found his new religion. A/N: Just a tad bit of sweet smut to be honest. This was my listen while I wrote if you were curious. Enjoy! xx Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 2,069 Characters: soft!ascended!Astarion x fem!au!Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

  From the moment Astarion had seen you, he knew he had to have you. Walking through the animated city of Baldur’s Gate, your radiant smile was the first thing that had caught his eye. Flowing hair kissed your shoulders adorned with freshly plucked daisies. Your aroma was the most intoxicating scent that had graced his nose in all of his years. Your rose-tinted cheeks teased with the blood flowing beneath your flawless skin. Your eyes sparkled with wonder, reflecting the rays of the sun above. He had never been a believer in the love at first sight nonsense, yet there you were. If his undead heart could beat, he was sure it would be skipping against his ribcage. It was the only time the vampire had found himself utterly speechless. 

  For months, he watched from afar, finding excuses to go into town. Not that he had to excuse anything to anyone, but the newfound feelings were frightening, to say the least. Alas, day after day Astarion went out, whether for a drink or an unnecessary shop trip, and he would wait to get even the slightest glimpse at you. He was aware that this obsession was snowballing out of his hands as he fell harder and deeper. Hells, he had never even spoken to you. Yet he knew nearly everything there was to know. 

  He knew every other day you made your way to the apothecary to pick up medicines for your sick father, whom you cared for. He knew once every fifth day, you picnicked in the graveyard next to your mother’s grave. He knew your favorite color was yellow because it reminded you of the summers you spent with your mother before her untimely passing. You had six siblings: an older brother and five young sisters. 

  Astarion had also realized that you had a death wish, apparently. You were constantly staying out past sundown, running errands or helping neighbors. Did you even comprehend the dangers? He would often think to himself. Of course he had to follow you home to ensure you made it inside safely. You were becoming a liability to him, and quite frankly, he was terrified of how you made him feel. Just when he had decided to end this one-sided arrangement, there you were. Sat on the side of the road with tears pooling rivers down your cheeks, his body felt out of his control as he approached you.

  He stood in front of you, his words caught in his throat. You stared at him with those big doe-eyes, and his knees felt like jelly. “Are you alright?” He finally managed out. Gods, what am I doing? I should just sink my fangs into her and be done with it. It’s just bloodlust. This was something he had tried to convince himself of many times already- a lie.

  “Oh, yes.” Voice sweet and smooth, like the finest honey gold could buy. “Just this silly book.” You giggled, holding up the novel you had previously been engrossed in before Astarion had found you.

  “Right. Good.” He clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure and still his spinning mind. “I’ll just be on my way then.” You nod, gifting that sweet smile to him. Astarion felt his legs would give out beneath him if he stayed longer, but he didn’t move an inch.

  The man intrigued you, ruby red eyes and skin pale as the snow that fell during winter. He was gorgeous. An aura of mystery surrounded him, and you were keen to discover those mysteries. “Say, you live in that big fancy manor?” You question, breaking the awkward silence that had befallen you two.

  “I do. Why?” Skepticism was palpable in his tone. 

  You disregarded his tone, and he believed it to be your naive nature. “You have the most exquisite daffodils blooming alongside your walls. I didn’t want to pick them without asking.” Your smile is sheepish, innocent. Astarion doesn’t speak, his face unreadable. “I-I enjoy putting bouquets together. I don’t mean to-” He already knew this, obviously.

  “They are yours.” Astarion can’t contain the smile that tugs the sides of his lips.

  As you two stroll to the location of said flowers, Astarion finds himself loosening up in your presence. He watches you intently, the way you move your hair from your face as you carefully pluck a few from the group. He urges you to take more.

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother. These are plenty.” You assure. In response, he crouches down next to you to help pluck the remaining flowers.

   After walking you home, Astarion ordered flowers to be planted around the grounds. With the help of just a little magic, within weeks, roses, peonies, sunflowers, and carnations bloomed healthily. You would come with a fresh serving of food, a bouquet as thanks, and collect the flowers. As naive as you were, you could recognize what Astarion was doing. The daffodils were a one-off in that area, but now flowers surrounded the entirety of his property. The rate at which they grew, too; you were aware some effort went into getting them to blossom so hastily. At every mention of a new flower, the next time you came, they were miraculously in bloom.

  This compromise had been in full swing for months when you finally questioned him about it. Astarion was on his knees as he snipped red roses from the bush, insistent on doing it himself so you didn’t prick yourself on a thorn. “Why are you doing this?” You question, a wicker basket that was already overflowing held firmly in your hands. 

  “I told you, you’ve nabbed yourself on these blasted thorns one too many times.” His reply came without a look in your direction as he continued to snip the stems.

  “That’s not what I meant.” A soft chuckle emanates from behind closed lips. He looks up at you in realization, his hands coming to a halt. Your breath catches in your throat as he stares at you wordlessly, longingly. Standing slowly, he takes a step closer to you. He drops the roses into your basket before cupping your cheeks, closing the distance between your faces. The kiss is electric. You drop the basket to your feet, arms snaking around his neck while he presses your body tightly to his, clinging to you like a prayer. His lips were a colder temperature than you expected, but they were soft and hungry. 

  That’s how Astarion ended up with you in his bed. As he eagerly ripped the pale blue dress from your body, you took note of the bouquets around his bed chamber. Every single one you had gifted to him was on display and in perfect condition. Your heart flits in your chest, eyes closing in ecstasy as wet kisses trail up the inside of your thighs. A soft moan is elicited from you as his mouth reaches your warmth, his tongue flicking teasingly along your slit. Your fingers thread into his stark white hair, instinctually tugging with every contact against your clit. Colors explode behind your eyelids from the euphoric excitement.

  He pulled away briefly, with his starving mouth against your thigh, he spoke muffled words, “I don’t think you realize how long I’ve been waiting to hear that, darling.” Your breathing quickens as you look down at him between your thighs with hooded, lustful eyes. His mouth returns to your clit and he suckles lightly, two fingers dipping into your dripping center. The sensation brings your back into an arch, aching to feel him deeper inside of you.

  The swirling motion of his tongue brings you close to the edge, your legs shaking mercilessly. Astarion’s free hand moves between his torso and your legs, holding them steady as he continues his work on your body. Just as you are about to cum, he places a final kiss on your mound before his eyes meet yours. “You’re much naughtier than I thought.” He tsked, crooning his neck at you before moving up your body.

  Your lips meet passionately, his tongue slipping effortlessly into your mouth to meet your own. He creates a gap between you as one hand holds him up, quickly removing his trousers and undergarments with his other hand. He pressed his bulge down onto your warmth, hitting your sweet spot as he grinds against you. “Do you taste how lovely you are?” He murmurs, plunging his tongue further into your mouth. You can only let out a delighted moan in response.

  Once he breaks the kiss, you press your slippery core harder against his erection. “Please fuck me.” You whimper lustfully, “Please-” Your words are cut short by the sensation of him rubbing the head of his cock against your clit, causing a delicate moan to leave your throat.

  “Fuck. You’re soaked, my darling.” He coos. As much as Astarion wanted to continue to play with your body, he needed to be buried in you as quickly as he possibly could. He slides the head of his member from your clit, pushing slowly into your welcoming embrace. He savors every sensation as he enters you. There is a momentary flicker of pain on your face as you adjust to his size, and he falters for a moment.

  “Have you done this before?” He asks quietly, pressing his forehead to yours, avoiding your throat to save himself from temptation. He cursed himself inwardly for even asking; he shouldn’t care. This woman brought a side out of him he had never met before- a softer side. The scariest part is he actually, well, liked it.

  You wavered for a second before shaking your head, confirming that he was indeed the first man to have ever been in such a position with you. The thought makes him feel feral. Such a sweet flower trusting someone like him to take your virtue; he would never admit it to anyone, but honor and pride swelled in his chest. He nodded in acknowledgment, “We’ll go slow, pet.” He reassures, hips rocking delicately into yours as he fills you with as much of him as he can manage without causing you discomfort. He lays a gentle kiss on your forehead as your pain turns into pleasure, still-shaking legs wrapping to engulf his hips.

  “A-Astarion.” His name sounded like a hymn gracing his ears from your mouth, and he wanted to devour you right there and then. It took everything in him not to plow you into the bed. His hand rests on the bedframe as he finds a comfortable rhythm, eyes never leaving your face. He wanted to soak up every reaction to his touch.

  “You drive me crazy, pet.” He grunts as his pace quickens, gripping the mahogany wood tighter at the magnetic pleasure buzzing through his body. He uses his free hand to effortlessly move you further up into a slightly seated position as his thumb once again finds your clit to draw purposeful eights over it. 

  “I-I’m- Oh my gods-” The moan is loud, music to his ears as your walls tighten around his cock.

  “That’s right. Be a good girl and cum for me.” It’s a stern demand, all to mask just how close Astarion was himself. His words push you over the edge, your body clinging to his for support as the euphoria rushes over you. Every hair on your body standing on end, you throw your head back and scream Astarion’s name thrillfully. 

  With you coming undone, he allows himself to reach fruition, his seed filling you to the brim. His hand on the frame loosens, and his head hangs, face full of gratification. He looks down at you, pulling his now-soft member from you, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you stretch contently, much like a cat. Your eyes were droopy, a giddy smirk on your face as you fought to keep them open. Astarion chuckles, pressing another kiss to your lips. “You can sleep, my darling. I’ll wake you in a little.”

  Astarion swore he felt the tiniest tinge of warmth in his heart at the sight of you so comfortable cuddled into his side as you dozed off. This could be a welcome change. Maybe his undead life just needed his very own light, his own sun. All he knew was that he was done fighting it. One weakness couldn’t hurt.

[ridox]

Seasons

Summary: Welcome to Love & Deepspace Cafe! Today's menu is our favorite specialty drinks throughout the seasons—this is a one time limited offer, get them while they last! Pairing: None, just headcanons for all the L&DS boys! (Yes, including Caleb) Author's Note: Decided to make Love & Deepspace Cafe a little series on my random headcanons/blurbs for the boys! Also there's a Rafayel smut brewing in my drafts but that's a thing for another day ‿❀°

Xavier is Autumn, he’s warm clothes and cozy drinks. He’s the comfort film you put on whilst lounging all day in nothing but matching pajama sets, all tightly tucked under thick fleece blankets. Xavier is the shift of seasons from Summer to Winter, not quite hot but also not quite cold yet. He’s the hot tea you drink when you start to feel the chill in your bones, he’s the book you snuggle in during a slow Autumn afternoon. Xavier is Autumn because he reminds you of home.

Zayne is Winter, cool as ice and buried in a flurry of snow. He’s the first snowfall of the year, taking you by hand as you laugh in childish wonder. He's running outside to play in makeshift sleds, he's making silly little snow sculptures that you know will be gone by the end of the day. Zayne is a cup of hot cocoa that embraces you with warmth, he’s the thick cotton gloves that envelopes your hand as you rub them against one another, creating friction to fight off the cold Winter air. Zayne is Winter because he reminds you of innocence and childhood.

Rafayel is Summer, he’s the oddly comforting scent of coconuts and sunscreens. He’s the road trips you go on with friends, your hands dancing outside your car's window, screaming lyrics of some old song that came on the radio. Rafayel is the popsicle you buy in a hot summer’s day, hurriedly eating it before it melts, but laughing nonetheless when you’re left in a sticky mess. Rafayel is the sound of crashing waves and the view of a setting sun. Rafayel is Summer because he’s nostalgia personified, something that never fails to remind you that growing up isn't as bad as they made it out to be.

Bonus!

Caleb is Spring, he’s the weekend after school break, spent on late night phone calls with your friends, planning for the next time you can hang out. He’s mall dates with your best friends, he’s park walks with your pet, he’s sleeping in all day and going out till night just because you finally can. Caleb is the smell of freshly cut grass and morning dews. He’s the dandelions you make wishes on and the garden weeds you play with. Caleb is Spring because he reminds you of freedom.

‿❀°

[unclewaynemunson]

It was winter '86 when Nancy found out what it felt like to return to your hometown after having moved away. She had managed to skip Thanksgiving, giving her mother some vague excuse about needing to study for her midterms, but there was no way she could get out of Christmas. So here she was, wrapped in a thick coat and matching scarf, finding herself back on the very streets she had wanted so desperately to leave behind.

Moving to Boston had been a liberation for her. It had been the only way to break free from everything that happened over the past three years. Life had become normal again: she had made friends, gone to parties, taken interesting classes... She had finally been able to breathe fresh air again.

It wasn't like everything was magically alright all of a sudden, of course. She still slept with a gun beside her bed – praying that her roommate Jess would never find out about that – and she wondered if the pain of not having Barb to share all these new experiences with would ever fade away. But she was doing better. The pain wasn't as sharp anymore, far away from the streets that did nothing but remind her.

Now, it was the day before Christmas Eve and she was walking around town, with no aim but to flee from her mother's stress about needing everything about the upcoming days to be perfect.

It felt weird, walking these familiar streets again after having been away. She felt like an intruder in what once used to be her town, a place she had left behind for a reason. She still knew every road, every building, she still had memories waiting for her at every corner... But those streets weren't hers anymore.

All of these memories were about Barb. Barb, who would never get out of Hawkins. Barb, whose skeleton was decaying in the dark and twisted version of her town, right underneath the pavement Nancy was walking on. Barb, who had a gravestone with her name on it while another girl was now growing up in the room in the house that had once been hers. These streets would always stay Barb's. It was a narrative that was finished, a book that had reached its ending, and Nancy was forcing it to stay open by merely walking here.

The streets were quiet: as cold and dark as they were supposed to be on the night before Christmas Eve. Lights were twinkling in the houses Nancy passed, and on the few occasions she did cross paths with someone else, she'd always think – just for a second – that it was Barb, still sixteen and risen from her early grave to haunt her.

Wherever she went, she found shadows that only she could see, darker than they were supposed to be. She saw the shadow of their lemonade stand on the corner of Barb's street. She saw the silhouettes of two little girls with pigtails in their hair cycling hand-in-hand towards the middle school building. She saw them giggling on their way to the swimming pool, looking at store windows on Main Street after they got their first pocket money, walking out of the library with big piles of books in their arms; she saw Barb waiting for her at the community center after Nancy's ballet practice, and she saw herself on the way to Barb's to walk Bobby the dog with her. She saw two shadows on the playground, gossiping on top of the jungle gym that was shaped like a pirate ship; two shadows on their way to the pumpkin patch on the edge of town; two shadows playing tag in the woods... Two shadows leading her exactly to the last place they'd been together, where the walls of a big house were stained with Nancy's mistakes on that fateful warm November night in '83. The place where the two shadows had stopped being interlinked; where one of them had wanted other things than the other and they each went their own separate way. Where they got ripped apart from each other for good.

Nancy just stood there, unmoving and hidden away by the shadows of the evening, staring at the stones of Steve Harrington's house with no intention of going in and saying hi. She had no idea how much time passed until the door opened and a girl stepped outside.

For a moment, Nancy genuinely believed that her mere gaze had managed to summon Barb out of the swimming pool that was her grave, to finally become something far more horrifying than a shadow. It was a moment long enough to make her lose her guard and stumble forward over the pavement.

“Nance?”

It was Robin. The girl who stepped out of the house was Robin Buckley. Tall, freckled face, blue eyes... But that was all the resemblance she had to Barb

“What are you doing here?”

Nancy took a big breath and shrugged, trying to shake off the uncanny feeling.

“I was just taking a walk,” she said, trying to seem normal - or at least as normal as this situation would allow her.

Robin stared at her for a few seconds, a strange look in her eyes, as if she was trying to decipher some secret code written on Nancy's face.

Then, she nodded. “Okay,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. “Wanna walk home with me? I was gonna bike, but I can call Steve when I get home and ask him to bring me my bike tomorrow.”

Nancy could easily admit that aimlessly roaming the empty streets of Hawkins with Robin by her side sounded much more appealing than all by herself, so she agreed and allowed Robin to distract her with easy conversation while they left the big houses of Loch Nora behind them.

The two of them had kept in touch, with Robin in college in Indianapolis and Nancy at Emerson. They wrote each other letters and called almost every week. And when Nancy had arrived in Hawkins a few days ago, being around Robin again had no doubt been one of the good things about being back.

The presence of Robin beside her reminded Nancy of all kinds of other memories laid out on those streets; ones that didn't include Barb. They passed the corner where she and Steve had once made out in his car, not long after they got back together at the end of '83. They passed the playground with the trampoline where she and Mike had spent countless afternoons launching a laughing baby Holly into the air. They passed the lunchroom where she and Fred would hang out together every time they had a newspaper deadline coming up. They passed the dirt road leading up to the Byers' house, where Jonathan had run after her that day they broke up to give her a hug and make sure they'd part as friends and not just as exes. And finally, they passed the edge of the woods where she and Robin had walked side-by-side and Robin had smiled at the ground, almost shy, when Nancy asked her if they were friends, officially. Nancy remembered that as clear as if it had happened yesterday: amidst all the horrors, the fear, and the looming threats on their lives, had been this genuine smile. It had given her yet another reason to keep trying to win that fight no matter how badly the odds were stacked against them. It had warmed something deep inside of her and made her realize that her problems with Jonathan were beyond trying to save.

Now, more than nine months later and with the feeling that she'd known Robin for much longer than that, Nancy looked to her right to find that same smile playing around Robin's lips, as if she was lost in the exact same memory as Nancy.

Barb would probably keep haunting the streets of Hawkins forever, never letting that uncanny feeling in Nancy's gut fade away whenever she'd visit her old hometown. Her ghost would make the fading pain flare up, sharp and fresh all over again. But this street right here, following the edge of the woods and leading into Robin's neighborhood, was untainted by memories of Barb. The two of them had no business ever going here – contrary to Robin.

Nancy breathed out and asked herself what Barb would want her to do right now.

She'd want you to heal, Nance, Robin once told her, months ago, when Nancy had finally found the courage to talk out loud about everything that happened.

So on this cold winter night, she stretched out her hand and grabbed Robin's. She could feel warmth through their gloves, sparking all the way through her arm and chest, right into her cheeks. Robin's smile deepened and she squeezed Nancy's fingers, not letting go until they reached her front door.

Maybe being back in Hawkins wasn't as bad as Nancy thought it would be.

Ronancetober day 8: uncanny. Inspired by the song These Streets by Bastille

[thecruellestmonth]

Bruce & Jason fic recs: sweet and bittersweet

Some of the best sweet and sweet-and-sad fan fiction featuring the bond between a Good Batdad and his scrappy birdson.

>Sweet - light and fluffy, minimum hurt with maximum comfort

"Call Me Hopeless" by incogneat_oh - Bruce says good night to Jason and Dick.

"Alternative Means of Acquisition" by Imbecamiel - In which Bruce Wayne arm-wrestles Lex Luthor.

"home is such a lovely place" by evanescent - Jason's first time sneaking out to patrol doesn't go as planned. (He didn't mean to get sick, alright?)

"White Christmas" by LemonadeGarden - Jason's been in the manor for a few months now. Bruce is a pretty cool guy, sure, but he's not exactly sure what to expect from him. And then they go to Siberia in the winter on a case. It goes horribly wrong, and then pretty well.

"Not Guilty, Sir" by incogneat_oh - Robin smoked.

"Safe Space" by Cerusee - Turns out, Bruce and Jason aren’t quite on the same page about who’s parenting whom. Bruce is going to need to clear some things up.

"Sold to Wonder Woman (by my evil adoptive father Batman)" by JeanjacketCarf - Jason writes some fan fiction. It's totally not a self-insert.

"Mint Chocolate Chip" by LemonadeGarden - Summer vacations have been going on just long enough for Jason to start getting bored, when he gets an unexpected visitor. From the future.

"Cookies And The End of The World" by AnActualCrow - Jason has a bad day at school. Alfred and Bruce make him feel better.

"I Love You" by DetectivePrettyBoy - Jason wants to tell Bruce that he loves him.

"don't take your guns to town" by kreestar - batman comes home from a night patrolling to find a 10 year old jason todd waiting for him in his kitchen. across gotham, at the same time, red hood is stopped by a 25 year old bruce wayne.

"The legends and the myths" by orphan_account - Jason Todd is the best liar Bruce's ever met. Jason Todd is the worst liar Bruce's ever met.

"Growing Like A Breeze" by whaleofatime - April 27th isn't anyone's favourite date, but it's somehow worse than usual today when Bruce gets his car stolen. It's nice of Red Hood to come to his rescue. Nicer even that Jason keeps him company afterwards.

"Rise Up With The Sun" by blacklettered - His son came home on a Wednesday evening and Bruce did not call for the slaughter of the fattened calf but it was a close thing. Jason quietly decides to come home, and Bruce is quietly delighted. (Also there's a bunch of freaky Edgar Allan Poe shit happening in the background because lowkey Jason Todd is a revenant who walks the earth as if living and yet remains irrevocably connected to the forces of death and decay—but that's not as important.)

"Bet on it" by Lysical - Damian asks Jason for a favor.

"homerun" by someplacewarm - Bruce backs out from a baseball game with Jason last minute. They handle it just about as well as they handle anything else: bad, then better.

"the reflex" by TheResurrectionist - Jason takes a smoke break.

"Boof" by strikeyourcolors - When Bruce finds Jason turned into a dog in an alley, he tries to take care of him. He didn't plan on getting along so well with this canine form…or getting so emotional.

"Late Night Langoustining" by whaleofatime - Jason steals a live lobster from a supermarket.

"bred in decency and order" by OkayAristotle - Bruce cuddles his giant son. (Contains brief vomiting.)

"Sealing the deal" by orphan_account - In which Bruce Wayne is kidnapped and it’s somehow not the most difficult part of anyone’s day.Or, in which Jason Todd is a selkie.

"Plus-One" by Goldmonger - All the kids were permitted to bring a guest to the gala. Dick brought Barbara, Tim brought Bernard, Duke brought Ana, Cass brought Steph, Damian brought Jon, and Jason brought a forty-year-old 6’6” man with no sense of personal boundaries. Bruce is getting too old for this nonsense.

"the road home" by drakefeathers - Set during Lost Days. An injured and exhausted Jason succumbs to homesickness.

"the clay steals the clay" by zipadeea - Bruce discovers that Jason is alive in the sweetest, funniest way possible.

>Bittersweet - sweet mixed with melancholy, lots of hurt with some comfort; may contain mentions and depictions of child death

"Beneficiary" by sirsparklepants - The beneficiaries of the estate of Jason Todd.

"bird of winter" by knowsphere - Damian meets a ghost. Based on the short story "The Delusions of Alfred Pennyworth" at the end of Batman: Gotham Knights #34.

"A Proper Goodbye" by ceemobster - The emergence of the Red Hood throws Bruce into disarray, and then Jason pays him a visit. The epilogue of the "Under the Red Hood" story... set after Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice.

"this gun needs no bullets" by sacrr - A true Knight is made, not born. Or: the story of Jason Todd. [Batman: Arkham Knight]

"when you were young you used to dream about fires" by someplacewarm - Bruce travels back in time and finds himself in Jason's childhood home. Things aren't easy, but they were never this hard.

"through the valley of the shadow" by Goldmonger - Jason gets kidnapped and tortured. He rescues himself, partly.

"a little bit louder now" by mx_chrx99 - A mission gone awry, too many memories, too much blood, and not enough time. Bruce races to save a son he couldn't save before.

"Haunting" by the_authors_exploits - A child dies of neglect on the streets of Crime Alley; even then, the Batman won't give up on him.

"rip up the floorboards" by orphan_account - Content warning for non-graphic discussions of past CSA. When Jason was young and starved, he hid something like a corpse in his own body. Hurt/comfort.

"Wayward Birds" by LanternWisp - Featuring hilariously crunchy overbearing parent Bruce, who forbids his kid from consuming coffee or dairy.

"Moderation" by orphan_account - In which the Riddler accidentally saves the city a few years early by helping rescue Robin II from Joker’s clutches. Out of pure and vicious spite. [Arkhamverse]

"You're Just A Baby, You Can Not Fly" by BabblingBookends - Batman visits Jason's grave to say goodbye to his partner.

"To See the Stars" by lurkinglurkerwholurks - Jason and Bruce go for a hike.

"Younger Bruce, Older Jason - Shorter Fic" by whatomen

"Knock On Death's Door" by CastleGachi - Red Hood rescues a wounded Batman.

"here in our house, reminders of you" by jesamnelovelace - A Christmas present from Jason becomes Bruce's closest connection to his son after his death.

"a broken piece of what we used to be" by Cerusee - Bruce and Jason messily yet lovingly deal with the ramifications of Damian's resurrection and Nightwing's supposed death.

"Mask Of Blood" by Kieron_ODuibhir - When Jason is trapped in the past, Bruce turns to Jason Blood for help.

"By Any Other Name" by ManURonaldo - Jason thinks of Bruce and Batman as separate people.

"Someone That Hates To See Me Go" by AutumnHobbit - Or, how Jason realizes his family wants him to live, and how he realizes he does, too. (Oprah voice) Your fave gets hurt/comfort! And your fave gets hurt/comfort! They all get hurt/comfort!

"through death and time" by sparkycap - After a mission that takes Batman and Nightwing back twenty years in the past, they end up with time to kill. Bruce does what he does best: he finds a kid. Luckily this one is already his.

"Mighty" by Sparkypants - Five things Bruce taught Jason when he took him in, and one thing Jason taught Bruce.

"it's always sunny in coast city" and "the alignment of the planets, and of you and i" by atlasky - In which Uncle Hal Jordan loves Jason, but Bruce absolutely adores him with every fiber of his being.

"Trapped" by lurkinglurkerwholurks - Bruce and Jason end up trapped in a collapsed building. Jason really dislikes being buried alive.

[i-am-church-the-cat]

prompt: carva! 🐛🚗

Logan’s second time in the incubator had been harder than the first. That first season, Alex had calmly walked him through it, making jokes to lighten the mood. The hot, damp space was surprisingly comfortable - it reminded him of childhood camping trips where he and Kyle would sweat through their shared sleeping bag. He shuddered at the thought of doing this with Kyle. They’ve swapped sweat, swapped spit, but this was something else. Something cloying and metallic that was defined by tan skin and skilled fingers.

The second time Logan steps into the cocoon, he’s far past nervous. He’s desperate in a way he hasn’t been since he was trapped in F3 and running out of money, watching his too-young cars falter and die on him. Logan knows that if this years car isn’t a fit, if he can’t push it into the points, than he’ll never be back in this slick, dimly lit chamber again.

Alex, sensing his anxiety, doesn’t joke. Their actions are stilted and robotic, no chemistry at all. Logan has to bite his tongue to keep from begging Alex to fuck him, to take his pleasure from Logan’s body and wring every drop of talent into the car, into the team.

Alex avoids him the entire winter break after they leave the factory. The car spent that time gestating, waiting for its unholy creators to come crawling back.

When Logan steps into the artificial nursery, the problem is apparent.

“They’re small,” Alex says, cutting a glance to James. Their team principal’s face was predictably placid but Logan didn’t have to look at him to know what he was feeling.

It was the end of January. The cars should be on the precipice of breaking out of its cellulose layer. Instead, behind the translucent, veiny film, the three larva was still only the size of a typical V8.

“What do we do if they don’t hatch before Bahrain?” Logan asks, unable to tear his eyes away from the cocoon. He knows that this is his fault.

James explains that the longest they can leave two of the cars in there was the second week of February. They would have to be cut out by then, given their nutrients externally. There were some things the team could do to help them grow before the season started, but there was a possibility they would end up with underdeveloped cars. They’d start the season on the back foot.

Alex had asked more questions but Logan wasn’t listening. He watched the steady throbbing of the casing and worried it matched his heartbeat too well.

—

Two of the cars hatched the first week of February. They were still smaller than normal, and slower than the team would have liked, but they were out and moving.

The third hadn’t hatched. Since it wasn’t necessary for the season, they’d leave it to grow a little longer. They would just have to be careful with the other two.

That’s what Logan tried to be. Careful. Gentle. Not only because his job was riding on his consistency, but because his car was still so small. Barely two weeks old, still trembling and hesitant to push itself to its limits.

Alex’s car, on the other hand, was hard and unruly. The tighter Alex tried to hold on, the more it bucked from him. When it worked, Alex could get his car close to the points. When it didn’t- you had Australia.

Alex’s car hadn’t woken up after the crash in practice. The team asked for Logan’s car- Logan’s young, quivering car. It clung to him even as Logan agreed to sit out the rest of the weekend.

Logan didn’t ask Alex to be gentle with it. When his car came back a little stronger, a little more confident, Logan wonders if he’s been too gentle with it.

—

The third car doesn’t hatch until April. It’s more middle of the road than Alex’s or Logan’s. More controllable, but more durable. It wasn’t ambitious but it wasn’t hesitant either.

Logan wondered if they were going to sub that car for one of theirs. He wondered which one would have to sit out- the desperate, angry car, or the weak, anxious one.

Logan is going okay in Miami. Being back home is building his confidence and it’s reflected on his car as well. Tenth in the sprint was a highlight, even if there were no points associated with it.

Maybe he got too confident. Maybe he got too desperate, had too much tunnel vision. Because suddenly his adolescent car is flying backwards into the barriers, making a screeching, unholy sound. Logan’s heart is racing and his head is spinning and every part of him is throbbing.

“Did I do something wrong?” Is the first thing out of his mouth. He’s not sure if it’s from him or the car. He can’t tell the difference anymore.

But no, he didn’t do anything wrong. That doesn’t keep his car from curling up to lick its wounds over the break, newfound confidence leaving quicker than it came. Logan, as likeminded with the beast as ever, stays in Miami and soaks up the sun, hoping he’ll go back to the too-cold English summer a little stronger than he left it.

—

They’re desperate and hungry. The team is scared they’ll break too easily.

Logan sits in his car, whining even without the engine, and thinks they already have.

[melancholy-of-nadia]

love u lately (m) #7 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately​ chapter title: #7 - People (Pt. 2)​ pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: a camping trip in the middle of January does not prove to be ideal at all. for many reasons. and you'll blame taehyung for suggesting this! with high tensions and emotions simmering beneath the surface as you, the beta tau sigma boys, and your girly besties go on a weekend getaway, someone unexpected decides to confess to you, leaving you to wonder what your heart even wants? warnings:  camping, reader being obviously jealous, AND STRESSED, smut, deep talks, shower sex, consensual groping, v in p penetration, unprotected sex (well she's on BC), swearing, kissing...A LOT, fingering, yoongi smoking cigarettes, hwasa the drama pot stirrer, ANGST, INJURY, eventual CONFESSION, yoonminjoon on high tension, jungkook carrying reader = jealousy, ft. Hwasa, IU, Adora, and Soyoon note: as always thank you to @daegudrama for editing this chapter and giving me smut ideas!!! total word count: 12.6k drop date: February 9th, 2024 3:00PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #6 | Series Masterlist | #8 →

January 19 [Saturday]

The rhythmic hum of the engine and the soft purr of the tires on the pavement accompany your focus as you sit shotgun in Yoongi's car, en route to the campgrounds. Winter break ended earlier that month, and reality is setting in as you find yourself juggling the remnants of relaxation with the impending demands of university life.

Yoongi decided to bring his car to campus this semester, knowing that he would need it for the camping trip to be able to fit everyone. Each car housed a portion of your close-knit group:

Jin's car: Hoseok, Hwasa, Soohyun Jimin's car: Namjoon, Soyoon, Jungkook Yoongi's car: You, Taehyung, Jieun

Seated beside Yoongi, you diligently work on a writing assignment, your laptop open on your lap. Yoongi cast a sidelong glance, noting your dedication despite his concern for your motion sickness.

"Are you seriously working on your homework in the car? You get bad motion sickness, Honey." He sighs, worry lacing his words as he continues looking at the road.

You finally lift your gaze, meeting his eyes after a focused 25 minutes. "I took a dramamine before this, so it’s not too bad. I just need to get this assignment done before Tuesday. I know I’m going to fuck around and not work on it much this whole trip, so I’m doing all I can to get it done within the next 3 hours."

Yoongi hums, understanding the struggle. "Damn, that business comm class has you hustling hard this semester, huh?"

You groan in agreement, "Yes! I was so close to dropping it because the professor is so stingy, but I need to take it now so I can graduate on time." This spring semester is going to be a lot harder so you have to stay focused. Though, this camping trip offers a temporary escape with your friends before you start calling the library your new home for the rest of the school year.

As the car rolls along the highway, your mind wanders back to a few weeks before the semester started. The course load is much more formidable than Fall, now taking some upper division courses like psychology, business communication, international economics, and market analysis. That business comm class is going to kill you though. You sigh at yet another twist of fate of Jaebeom's presence in a class, which somehow leaves you feeling uneasy.

He struck up a conversation after the first class, asking for your phone number to discuss homework and projects. While you agreed, sensing something off, Yoongi appeared behind you as if summoned from thin air. His dark expression and the firm grip on your wrist conveyed a silent warning to Jaebeom.

Before leaving, Jaebeom couldn't resist a sudden sarcastic remark, "Wasting time? You better finish that mixtape if you want to get signed before me, Agust."

At the time, you didn't fully grasp the implications. However, his words linger, and you wonder if Yoongi has recently been struggling with his music and if that somehow was connected to you. The mixtape project, once a seamless process for him, now seemed to be hitting roadblocks.

You decide to try to pry into Yoongi’s mind and see if your suspicions are correct by continuing the conversation. "What about you, Yoongi? I know you’re taking that Recording Production Process class this semester to release a mixtape by the end of it."

"Yeah, yeah, it's going well,” Yoongi nods shyly, offering a few affirmations.

"Right, hyung is working on an album!" Taehyung chimes in from the back seat where he sits with Jieun, your upperclassman friend you'd invited on the trip.

"Oh really? That’s really cool, Yoongi!" Jieun compliments, her eyes sparkling at the mention of Yoongi producing music.

"And if you need a vocalist feature, you should ask Jieun. She’s in the university’s acapella group." you suggest, thinking it could add a unique dynamic to Yoongi's music. Yoongi has asked you to sing a couple parts in the past for his songs, though you always try to gently refuse. You don’t think you’re much of a singer and don’t want to ruin his works. However, Yoongi always thinks differently.

"Really? Jieun, if you don’t mind helping me out with some of my projects, I would greatly appreciate it." Yoongi proposed.

"Sure! I sing as a hobby, so I don’t know how great I would be, but I’ll do my best." Jieun responds, her willingness evident in her tone.

You met Jieun last year when she was a 2nd year TA in your Psych Statistics Analysis class. After several office hour sessions of trying to understand how Tukey’s Honestly Significant Difference worked (which you don’t want to explain how it works), you ended up befriending her and becoming good friends. You found out she’s an amazing singer outside of her pursuing a psychology degree and even a theater major. You think Yoongi would get along really well with her (cue Yoongi’s obscure interest in broadway musicals).

The car continues its journey through picturesque landscapes, and after two hours, you finally arrive at the campsite. Nestled in the embrace of nature, the site sprawls out with a serene lake nearby, and scattered cabin lodgings surround the area. You note the promise of a hot spring spa somewhere around here, creating a mental checklist for exploration later on.

As you step out of the car, the crisp January air hit you, carrying remnants of moisture from the previous days' rain. It is undeniably cold, and you question the wisdom of camping in the middle of winter. Everyone starts unloading the supplies from the cars for the next 2-3 days. Jin, Yoongi, Soyoon, and Jungkook take charge of building the tents, their collective efforts combating the chilly breeze.

After everyone settles down, you all decide to have a group meeting to discuss what you guys are going to eat for lunch.

Taehyung, who is always down for something random, proposes a cooking challenge that divides everyone into two teams: Team Red and Team Blue. The plan involves creatively preparing lunch and dinner using the BBQ grills and sinks at the picnic area, as well as utilizing the supplies Jin and Namjoon bought the night before. Everyone will decide on the best meal after dinner.

Team Red, consisting of Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon, Soyoon, Soohyun, and Jimin, strategize their approach.

Jin, surveying the available ingredients, rubs his hands together, ready for the challenge. "Alright, team! We have premade dough, broth, veggies, meat, fruit, side dishes, bread…ideas, anyone?"

Hoseok, ever the enthusiast, suggests, "I’m tempted to say we should make the barbecue feast for lunch. I’m craving BBQ so bad. Please, Jin."

“No! We’re doing that tomorrow night!” Jin lightly argues, earning a groan from Hoseok which makes everyone else laugh.

Namjoon, exchanging glances with Soyoon, feels a spark of inspiration. "What if we do something a bit different? Pizza. We can make pizza outdoors. It's a bit unconventional, but we do have the premade dough. I think the result will be worth it."

Soyoon giggles and nods in agreement, adding, "Yeah, I actually brought the dough because I thought we could use it to make something cool out here. Pizza would actually be fucking cool." Namjoon smile widdens knowing she understands him so well.

"I'm down for pizza!" Jimin, excited by the idea, chimes in.

"Let's make a giant combo pizza. That way, we can feed everyone." Soohyun, examining the ingredients, suggests.

Jin, impressed with his team brainstorming thoughts, declares, "Fantastic! Let's get to work. Hoseok, start the fire. Namjoon, you and Soyoon work on rolling the dough. Soohyun, you and Jimin can handle cutting the ingredients for the toppings. We've got this!"

The team disperses to their designated tasks, banter and laughter fills the air as they toss around more ideas. Amidst the cheerful chaos, your attention involuntarily drifts to Soyoon and Namjoon.

You steal glances at them, observing how they playfully engage with each other while improvising rolling pins from random cylindrical objects. The rhythmic motion of rolling dough becomes a backdrop to their shared laughter, and you can't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable.

It's different. In the past, Namjoon would get close with girls you didn’t even know, like Jihyo. This time, it hits a bit closer to home—Soyoon is your friend, and Namjoon is your childhood best friend. You remember the first time they met is when Namjoon came by to pick you up after a late night library shift during finals season last year. But you’re not even sure when they started talking to each other more without you knowing. Could it have been through one of their art history classes?

Lost in your thoughts, you're snapped back to reality when Yoongi playfully flicks your forehead, jolting you back to reality.

“Get your head in the game, Y/N.” He grumbles and you wince slightly in pain. Jerk.

“I am!” You retort as you go back to facing him and looking at the ingredients in front of you. “I was just trying to see what they were plotting for lunch.”

Yoongi can’t help but shoot you a questioning expression. You wonder if he knows that you were looking at them. It wouldn’t be the first time he catches you staring at Namjoon being with another girl. Whether he knows or not, he doesn’t decide to pry and instead looks back at the ingredients on your table.

“You can do that later, we need to start making something so we can have more time to not do shit later.”

“Just make some of your good old kimchi jjigae and have some rice on the side. It’ll keep us feeling warmed up for the night.” You see some packaged pork belly and hand it to Yoongi, “Add a little protein too.”

You’ve helped Yoongi cook in the past, so you have a sense of his cooking process when he decides to make stuff, specifically stew. This won’t take too long to prepare.

“I hate that this is such a good idea.” He groans, grabbing the meat as you smirk right back at him cheekily. “Everyone else on board? I just need the onion and green onions cut, then the pork belly stir fried before I put it all in the big pot for the stew.”

Everyone nods, followed by a “Yes Chef!” from Taehyung. As you get straight to chopping onions, you notice Yoongi looking at you with admiration. You want to know the thoughts that blossom behind his cat-like eyes, but you decide not to ponder it right now.

Taehyung takes a suspicious glance at you two, seemingly wondering about something. Though he remains silent, and instead goes to assist Jungkook and Jieun in preparing ingredients.

++++++++++++

The sky paints hues of orange and pink as the sun begins its descent, casting a warm glow over the campsite. You, Jimin, and Hoseok venture towards a pile of firewood behind the shower houses to build a cozy campfire for the night.

Jimin, ever perceptive, notices the contemplative look on your face. "Hey, Y/N, everything okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face.

You hesitate for a moment before replying. Did he notice you looking at Namjoon and Soyoon earlier? Shit, this is embarrassing. He must be thinking about how ridiculous I’m being.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just stuff on my mind, you know?"

Jimin shoots you a curious glance, silently questioning if you were ready to share what was bothering you.

Before he could delve deeper into your thoughts, Hoseok, his eyes darting around nervously, chimes in, "Guys, let's pick up the pace. It's getting dark, and I'm not really a fan of the dark in the woods. Gives me the creeps!"

You take this interruption as a chance to avoid answering him and focus on the task on hand. Jimin doesn’t push you to continue and you all walk back to the campsite.

+++++

The campfire casts dancing shadows on the faces of your friends as laughter and chatter fills the night. The aroma of the delicious kimchi jjigae lingers in the air. Yoongi and Jungkook busied themselves with slicing fruits and getting out the ingredients to make some s'mores.

Jimin goes to his trunk to take out several boxes of soju bottles, sparking a cheer among the group. The soft strains of music emanate from Hoseok's compact speaker, adding a melodic backdrop to the festivities. Crackling fire, music and the clinking of soju bottles set the perfect ambiance for the end of the B.T.S. member trip day one.

"Alright, why don’t we share some confessions around the campfire to bond with one another. Jin, you wanna kick it off?" Hwasa settles down on the picnic blanket around the fire and grins.

Jin nods, a mischievous glint in his eye, "Huh?! Me? Why don’t you start it off since you want to do this.”

“Give me like three minutes to think of something. So please go for it, Seokjin?”

“Agh, fine. Just don't judge me too hard,” Jin looks around and clears his throat before he continues. “Back in middle school, I tried to impress my crush with a card trick. It didn't go as planned, and I ended up looking like a dumbass magician. Needless to say, she wasn't impressed."

“That was kinda a lame confession.” Hwasa tells him and you try to stifle your laughter next to her.

“I said don’t judge me!” A bit of laughter ripples through the group. “You also didn’t add any rules!”

"If Hwasa wants to hear about embarrassing shit, let me share.” Hoseok eagerly volunteers, “I accidentally liked my crush's old Instagram photo while stalking their profile. It was from two years ago, and there was no way to undo it. I hoped they wouldn't notice, but they did."

“Oh see! That’s what I want to hear!” Your girl bestie yells in excitement.

Soyoon follows after, "Something to confess…I have this quirky habit of talking in my sleep. One time, my roommate caught me in the act and recorded. I talked about kissing girls for a good five minutes."

Namjoon chuckles a little too hard at that. "Funny you mention sleep-talking. I've been told I do the same thing. Apparently, I give motivational speeches about pursuing dreams in my sleep."

“No, you just ramble about shit that sounds like it makes sense when it doesn’t!” Jimin opposes. Namjoon tsks, narrowing his eyes at the younger man.

The round table of confessions continues with Jieun, "Alright, brace yourselves. I had a massive crush on my neighbor when I was in high school. Turns out, he's now a famous actor in every Netflix show imaginable. I had no idea back then."

“Wait who?!” Everyone exclaims.

“I can’t kiss and tell.” She pretends to seal her lips, leaving everyone sighing and groaning.

The stories lighten the mood, but as Hwasa shifts the rules to be only dating confessions, a tension hangs in the air. You decide to tread carefully as your turn, "Well, I had this experience just once… you know, with someone. It was interesting, but things didn't exactly pan out."

“Come on, give us more juicy details! I haven’t heard you talk about this much.” Hwasa presses.

The gazes of Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon linger a bit longer, as you navigate through your words, leaving certain details in the shadows.

“Me and that guy were basically academic rivals. Always trying to one-up each other. I beat him and got the Salutatorian honor when I graduated. Jimin was Valedictorian. We never thought we’d date until I asked him to be my fake date to a wedding–”

A collective gasp and “oohs” escapes the group, and Hwasa clasps her hands together, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“It was my brother’s wedding.” Jin adds matter of factly.

“Yes, your brother’s wedding. Then one thing led to another and we dated for about 3 months until we broke up right when I moved for college.”

And now there was suddenly a bit of silence. Did I make the mood awkward? Oh god, maybe I should’ve made something up. You look around and see a bit of disappointment after a short rom-com summary of your first dating experience.

“Why did you need a fake date?” Namjoon was the first of your three best friends to speak up and ask. This catches you off guard.

“I…Er…”

Your hesitant response left an air of curiosity hanging around them. Namjoon's question touches on a chapter of your life you haven’t shared with anyone at all, and now, with the flickering firelight revealing the subtle expressions on everyone's faces, you feel a mix of vulnerability and uncertainty.

Why were you insistent to get a fake date back then? Even thinking about it now, it seems so silly of an idea. What were you trying to prove by having arms linked with a man, who you didn’t originally like, in front of your male best friends?

"It was to spite us. She didn't want to show up alone and have us think she couldn't find a date." Jimin interjects. He must’ve sensed you struggling to answer.

"Spiting us at a wedding? We could’ve just all gone as friends like we did for prom." Namjoon teases, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Was it really spite? Aimed at Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi for taking other girls instead just going with you? What does that really say about you? Why do you feel unhappy when they don’t have you at the center of their attention? This isn’t a good time to spiral into this.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't the best idea." you chuckle nervously, glancing quickly at Yoongi and Jimin. Their expressions are unreadable, and the silence that follows your story lingers a bit too long.

Hwasa, not one to let awkward moments fester, leans in with a playful smile, "Okay, spill. Was he a good kisser?"

"I…uh, I think this is getting a bit too personal, isn't it?"

The group erupts into laughter, dispersing the tension that momentarily settled. As the night continues, the stories shift to lighter topics, the crackling fire providing a comforting backdrop.

+++++++

The campfire's warmth lingers on your skin as you gather your things from your shared tent, preparing to head to the shower building. The night is settling in, and the laughter of your friends still echoes in the cold air. As you pass by the dwindling group still gathered around the fire, you catch Jimin's eyes for what feels like a minute. There is a depth in his gaze that leaves you wondering if he, too, is navigating through a maze of emotions from earlier today.

It’s been two months, when will you finally make up your mind instead of leaving them hanging?

Your attention is momentarily diverted by a scene that tugs at your heart. Namjoon and Soyoon are sat close, giggling animatedly about an unknown topic in the glow of the firelight. The sight of Namjoon's deepened dimples and the warmth in his smile captivates you, the flames casting shadows on them.

And there it is again. A twinge of an unknown, yet familiar feeling sparks within you. It is a feeling you couldn't entirely shake off, even though you tried to bury it beneath layers of rationality. A mix of emotions swirls as you continue on your way to the shower building.

The path to the shower building is dimly lit along the way, and the sound of laughter at the campsite slowly fades behind you.

Upon reaching the shower building, you notice Yoongi sitting by a picnic table, a dim glow from his cigarette and phone lighting up the darkness around him. It is a sight you haven’t seen in a long time, and concern creeps into your mind. You thought he stopped smoking a while back. Without hesitation, you call out to him and take a seat.

"Hey Yoongs," you begin, studying his expression, "Are you good?"

Yoongi looks up at you, caught off guard by the sudden question. He hesitates to speak, opting instead to take a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls into the night air, carrying with it a sweet yet bitter scent, reminiscent of cherries.

“Why do you say that?” He finally responds, with a question, however.

“I haven’t seen you smoke since that time.” You refer to the month right before college when Yoongi got word that his father had fallen ill and was admitted to the hospital. Yoongi doesn’t smoke unless he feels like he needs something to keep him afloat while his mind is conflicted in chaos.

“Just felt like I needed it right now.” He explains shortly.

You sense his reluctance to provide context. While you normally don’t like to pry too much when it comes to him, you feel like you should right now. Aside from whatever transparency or honesty rules you have as fuck buddies, you are his best friend at the end of the day.

You sigh softly, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Yoongi. But, you know, I'm here to listen to any of your worries. Anything. That's what best friends are for."

Yoongi's eyes widen a little from your reassuring words. It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts, the ember of his cigarette glowing in the darkness as he begins to speak. "You truly are an angel that comforts me when the world has gone to shit."

You feel your cheeks heating up a bit before following it up with another question, “What’s been troubling you this bad?”

Yoongi scratches his temple anxiously before putting his phone down. “It's just…the mixtape project is weighing on me more than I thought.”

"But you always come up with something amazing when it comes to music. We literally call you the hands of Midas."

He exhales a sigh, the smoke dispersing in the air. "Yeah, but this time it's different. Professor Kang is pushing us hard, and he's been emphasizing how crucial this project is if we want him to recommend us to work for Mr. Bang."

The gravity of his words sinks in. "The Mr. Bang from that one major record label in LA you told me about?"

Yoongi nods, and you can see the anxiety in his eyes. "Exactly. But he’s only recommending two mixtapes out of our 10-person class.” He takes a minute to assemble his next thoughts, finding it hard to speak out the potential outcomes. “This could be a game-changer for my career, but it feels like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff. One wrong move, and everything could just crumble."

You remain silent, absorbing the weight of his concerns. Yoongi told you awhile back that Professor Kang is actually another big producer named Pdogg. The man is incredibly close with Mr. Shihyuk Bang, who is a part of a major record label that Yoongi has been dreaming of joining since high school. You know Yoongi doesn’t want to disappoint anyone, and that carries even more magnitude and pressure to his creative process.

"I've been working day and night, trying to create something that stands out. But with every passing day, doubt creeps in. What if it's not good enough? What if I disappoint everyone who believes in me?" Yoongi admits, his vulnerability laid bare. “Jaebeom really hit a nerve when I saw him a few weeks ago. He’s been working on good stuff too, especially with the help of some upperclassmen. I have Yijeong and Sammy giving me some feedback from time to time, but this is all done by me.”

He extinguishes the cigarette with a firm stomp, the embers scattering in the night air. Discarding the remains into the trashcan next to the table, he releases a heavy sigh, the weight of his thoughts etched on his features.

You recognize the heavy burden he carries. The expectations, the fear of failure, and the desire to prove himself in an industry that can be unforgiving – it's a lot for anyone to handle.

"I get it, Yoongi," you begin, your voice adopting a soothing cadence that seems to meld with the ambient night sounds of the forest around you. "It's a big opportunity, and it's okay to feel overwhelmed. The music industry can be relentless, and there is a lot on the line for your future.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes at you, “Thanks for confirming my fears.” He chuckles.

“Wait! But here's the thing—you're not alone in this. We're all here for you, supporting you every step of the way."

You pause, letting the words linger in the crisp night air. Yoongi looks at you, his gaze a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

"You've got an incredible talent, Yoongi," you continue, your expression earnest. "I've seen you pour your heart and soul into your music since we were in high school. Your dedication is inspiring, and it's about time the world recognizes it. The journey you’ll take will be tough, but remember, you're not just carrying your dreams. You're carrying the dreams of everyone who believes in you, and that's a powerful force."

Yoongi takes in your words, a subtle nod acknowledging the truth in them. The flickering light from the light post dances in his eyes, reflecting a renewed sense of determination.

"And, hey," you add with a soft smile, "even in the face of challenges, don't forget to savor the process. This journey is as much about the growth and experiences along the way as it is about the destination. Embrace it, and you'll find strength even in the toughest moments." You hold Yoongi’s large hand against your face, comforting him. He always likes his hands being held.

He exhales slowly, as if releasing a burden he didn't realize he was carrying. "Thanks, Y/N," he says, his voice genuine. "I needed to hear that."

Yoongi looks at you, gratitude and a touch of relief in his eyes.

As the heaviness of Yoongi's concerns lifts with your words of support, a more casual conversation takes its place. Yoongi turns to you, his gaze softening, and asks, "What have you been dreaming of lately, Y/N?

You ponder the question. As a second year in college, you haven’t spent much time thinking about it. "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure yet. Maybe a corporate job somewhere nice, stable. I don’t really have much of a dream.” Yoongi looks at you, wanting to dive deeper on that, but you chose to divert the question. “But, no matter what, I hope to be close to you and everyone else until the end of time!"

His eyes widen, filled with admiration and awe at your sincerity. It's a sentiment that seems to touch him, and you feel a sense of warmth between you two. Emotions linger in the air, as if inching closer to understanding something profound.

Suddenly, as if propelled by an internal decision, Yoongi gets up. He extends his hand towards you, his touch gentle as he grabs your wrist. He looks at you with a hint of anticipation and eagerness in his eyes.

You don’t know what he has in mind, but if you’re with Yoongi, you have nothing to fear.

Intrigued, you follow him to the shower building which was empty at this hour in the night. Without a word, he pulls you into one of the shower stalls, closing the curtain behind you both. He starts kissing you, making you gasp into his mouth. As you close your eyes, you feel yourself slipping away, and in the process, accidentally turning on the shower. The water begins to flow, causing your clothes to get wet. In response, Yoongi starts undressing you, peeling off your clothes and tossing them to the side to keep them from getting too soaked. You didn’t mind though. You were going to shower anyway.

The soft sound of running water creates a soothing ambiance. The air fills with a mix of steam and electricity as your lips keep meeting each other again and again, while the world outside the shower stall fades away.

The sounds of water droplets hitting the tiled floor mixes with the soft hum of your shared breaths. There's a delicate dance between you and Yoongi, a silent exchange of emotions that words can never capture.

As the kiss deepens, you find a certain comfort in the connection, a reassurance that goes beyond the worries and pressures of daily life. Yoongi's hands, tender and deliberate, trace a soothing path across the expanse of your back.

He pulls back slightly, his dark eyes fixed on yours. "Y/N," he breathes, his voice a soft murmur that's almost lost in the sound of running water. "Do you want me to keep going?"

All thoughts in your brain are clouded by the horny brain rot brought about by Min Yoongi. This man is probably the most dangerous out of your three best friends.

“Please.”

This is the cue Yoongi needs to suddenly unchain his desires. His hands continue to explore, tracing patterns on your skin, and the heightened awareness of where you are adds a layer of excitement. The sound of the shower and the muffled noises from outside create a cloak of privacy, but at any moment, an impending intrusion could get you both caught. You don’t want to know what consequences await that.

The pure thrill of the situation and the delicate touch of Yoongi’s hands gets you wet with little effort. He breaks away from the kiss, leaning down to swirl his tongue around one of your nipples before turning you around. He kneads your ass in his hands then slips one hand between your thighs. Without warning he pushes one finger inside you with ease.

“So wet for me already?” He whispers into your ear sending a shiver down your spine. He uses his other hand to cup your soft breast.

The sound you choke out is not intelligible which brings a low chuckle to Yoongi’s throat. He slides the finger in and out of you slowly like he’s trying to drive you insane.

When he adds another finger you can’t help the sound that espaces your lips. He moves more quickly building the pleasure inside of you. Yoongi rests his head against your shoulder putting his hands on your waist.

“I don’t have a condom with me.” He groans, mentally beating himself. You turn around to see a pout gracing his lips.

“It’s okay, I’m on birth control now.” You pause looking into his eyes.

“Really?” He says excitement lighting up his face before you can continue.

"Yup," you confirm with a playful wink. "I had been thinking about going on it when we made the deal to include Jimin, and I finally did it over winter break."

Yoongi chuckles, reaching to hold your chin gently with his fingertips, ensuring your eyes stay locked on his. "Such a little minx. You planning to do something scandalous with that?"

You eye him mischievously. "Maybe… but no risks tonight. Let's take it steady for now."

He turns you back around and gently guides your shoulder until you are bent over. He unzips his pants, revealing his hardened cock and holds it in his hand. With no resistance, he glides inside you and groans at the feeling.

You’ve never done this before. Not with Wonwoo. Not with Yeonjun. Yoongi is the first to go raw in you, and it feels so damn good. Every vein and curve of his dick is felt in your pussy, molding itself as the perfect fit. You don’t know if you could ever go back to the feeling of a condom-covered dick, but you’d have to. Though you’d hope that you’d get to be safely creampied at least once before going back to double coverage of condom and BC protection. That’s one of your ultimate goals, though you won’t let them know.

Yoongi traces his fingers up your side as he thrusts into you with long slow strokes. He is enjoying the thrill of being this close to you in such a risky environment and savoring every moment.

You find yourself lost in the intense pleasure he brings, each thrust a wave of delicious sensation that floods your entire body. You arch your back, allowing him deeper access. The slight pain from his movements intertwines with the pleasure, making this experience all the more unforgettable.

Yoongi's gaze never leaves your face, his eyes locked on you as he pushes deeper into your warmth. Your own eyes are wide with passion, the fear of getting caught replaced by the thrill of the moment. His fingers dig into your hip, his expression a mix of raw lust and pure adoration.

"Look at you," he growls, "You're so wet, and so tight just milking me.” He whispers against your ear, driving you slow to become viscerally animalistic. You’re so close.

Suddenly, as if the world wanted to manifest your worst fears, the door swings open. The voices of Hwasa and Soohyun echo through the shower building. Panic sets in, and you tense, trying to stifle any telltale sounds of your current sexcapade. Yoongi, ever the master of composure, holds back a laugh at your panic without halting his movements. How is he not worried?!

"Steam? Oh, someone’s already in here? Is it you, Honey?" Hwasa's voice calls out.

You struggle to respond, caught between pleasure and the risk of exposure. Yoongi's movements pause briefly, awaiting your cue. "Y-Yes," you manage to stutter out despite feeling how good his dick feels stuck inside of you.

Hwasa, seemingly oblivious, starts a conversation with you about the night as the two girls do their nightly skincare at the sinks behind your showers. She begins touching on the earlier confessions and how it was a fun activity. You struggle to act like you're paying attention, but all you can muster in response are muffled "Mhms." Each of them start to sound like moans, which scares you even more. Yoongi looks like he wants to laugh so bad. This won’t end well. Can the girls tell something is off?

The proximity to getting caught adds a thrilling layer to the encounter. Yoongi decides to continue several strokes mid conversation, “A-Ah..”

Hwasa's concern grows. "Are you okay, Honey?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," you manage through gritted teeth, looking back at Yoongi looking smug. You desperately hope they won't linger. Another noise escapes, and you quickly try to cover it up, pretending it was you dropping your shampoo bottle on your toe.

The girls, unsuspecting, leave not too long after, and you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The tension lifts, and a soft, shared laugh between you and Yoongi echoes in the confined space.

Without warning, this is Yoongi’s cue to go faster. He grips your hips tightly holding you into place as he thrusts into you harder and faster leaving you.

"Y-Yoongi!" He grips your hips tightly holding you into place as he thrusts into you harder and faster leaving you.

Your eyes flutter, a lustful grin pulling at your lips lost in ecstasy. Gripping the shower wall for support, you meet Yoongi's thrusts with equal intensity, your hips bucking back against him in perfect rhythm. The pleasure is overwhelming, the tension and fear of being caught only adding fuel to the fire.

His name from your lips was music to his ears, and that was all he needed. He moves deeper, relishing the tightness of your body around his member. You feel the pleasure coursing through your own body, your orgasm nearing.

Yoongi's eyes never leave your face, his expression showing that he's drinking in each detail of this moment.

"Come for me, baby," he growls, his tone changing from a mix of lust and adoration to something more possessive. "Let me feel you come around my dick."

His words are the spark that lights the fire, and you feel your body reacting to his touch. The waves of pleasure crash over you, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your nails hold onto dear life, and you cry out his name, your voice echoing in the shower stall.

“F-Fuck.” Yoongi soon falls to his own pleasure, pulling out quickling and cumming on your ass. Drops of his cream drip down your thighs and soon washed away by the shower downpouring on you two.

You both try to control your breathing as Yoongi holds you close in an embrace.

“T-That was…oh my God.” You can’t find the words to explain the whole experience, added with the adrenaline rush of getting caught.

“Good to know my cock feels better without the condom.” He smiles in a goofy way, still high on the orgasm. You smack him in the hip with your hand.

When your orgasms subsides, you send Yoongi to go retrieve your toiletries, towel, and pajamas that you left outside by the picnic table you two sat. You two bid goodbye to each for the night, and he leaves. You don’t know how he’s going to explain why he’s soaked from head to toe, but you pray he’s slick enough to avoid any eyes.

+++++++++

As Yoongi walks back from the shower house, water droplets cling to his tousled hair and drip down onto his damp clothes. His steps are sluggish as he wearily tries to wring out the water. In this moment, Namjoon suddenly strides up, his curiosity piqued, eyes narrowing at the unusual sight.

"Yoongi, why the hell are you all wet?" Namjoon questions, checking out the shorter man up and down.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just checking out the shower building, man. One of them was broken and here I am." He cheekily points to his wet attire. He feels a euphoric confidence after his rendezvous with you. So much so that if anyone tries to challenge him right now, he will not back down.

Namjoon narrows his eyes, finding it a little hard to believe. "Really? I thought I saw you go smoke alone back at the picnic area."

Oddly, this observation pisses him off.

"Didn’t know you liked stalking my whereabouts too." Yoongi is quick to rebuttal, bitterness lacing in his voice. Namjoon is taken aback by his best friend’s response.

"What are you even talking about? Aren’t you the one hiding—" Just as Namjoon is about to press further, Jimin appears, interrupting the conversation.

“What are you guys up to?” Jimin puts his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders, which makes him relax slightly. He knows Jimin can manage to get Namjoon off his ass. He might even say that Jimin is his second angel tonight.

Namjoon glances between both of them, the tension palpable in the air. Yoongi's demeanor seems a tad defensive, and Namjoon feels there might be more to the story than he thought before.

“Just trying to figure out why Yoongi here looks like he went for a swim."

Yoongi rolls his eyes, dismissing Namjoon's inquiry. "Shower issues, Jimin. Nothing to worry about."

"Come on Joon, let's not make a big deal out of this. It's cold, and we're out in the middle of nowhere. Let’s just get him a towel and help him get a change of clothes." Jimin says casually, diverting Namjoon's attention away from Yoongi.

As Yoongi gives Jimin a subtle nod of gratitude, Namjoon reluctantly lets the matter go, deciding to drop the interrogation for now to help. Jimin seems to have an idea about Yoongi's whereabouts in the last 30 minutes, and he's not spilling the beans to Namjoon.

“If you think I haven’t caught on to you guys getting closer to Y/N in the last few months, you’re wrong.” The taller man says, warning heeding his voice.

The shorter men glance at him, not saying anything and enter Yoongi’s tent. They do share one thought at that moment though. You have to give them an answer once they come back to campus.

+++++++++

January 20 [Sunday]

The second day of the camping trip unfolds, and the group embarks on a hike through the scenic surroundings early in the morning after breakfast. The weather, though chilly, is pleasant, and the crisp air invigorates everyone. Conversations ebb and flow as the trail winds its way through the tree-filled landscape.

Jieun, a few steps ahead, animatedly shares memories of visiting this place during her childhood. "I remember catching fireflies by the lake in the summer." she reminisces, her eyes reflecting the nostalgia. Seokjin, walking beside her, chimes in with a grin, "I used to come here a lot too when I was a boy scout.”

Hoseok, Taehyung and Jungkook snicker in response to this.

“You guys can laugh all you want, but these boy scout skills come in handy."

"I don't know about them, but for sure Jungkook can fight a bear barehanded." Yoongi playfully remarks, the group erupting into even more laughter. Jungkook, sporting a lighthearted grin, flexes his muscles jokingly.

As you walk, you notice Namjoon and Soyoon strolling together. Soyoon, despite the chilly weather, wears a form-fitting pine green turtleneck that lacks the expected thermal warmth. Namjoon, ever the gentleman, notices her discomfort from the cold and offers his jacket. She initially refuses, probably mindful of the potential interpretations of their exchange. But after Namjoon continues insisting, he finally accepts with a gracious smile.

Behind Namjoon, you see Hoseok also catches the scene and shoots him a disapproving look.

Further back, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin seize the opportunity to tease Namjoon about his chivalrous gesture. "Look at Mr. Romantic over there." Jimin smirks, nudging Taehyung and Jungkook.

"I bet he practices that move in front of a mirror." Taehyung chuckles with them.

Namjoon, momentarily caught off guard by their reactions, glances at them and then immediately at you. He seems to be searching for a reaction. You know you struggle at being fake. It’s not in your nature to hide your feelings. Though, you feel like he does sense a subtle frustration from you. He wonders if you have been feeling like this for some time. Why is he starting to see it only now?

Before he even has the chance to go over to you and question it, the sky suddenly transforms, heavy raindrops plummet from the clouds and onto the earth. Great. It's as if the weather gods have decided to test you and see what you would do. However, panic sets in when you realize you left your laptop in the tent, vulnerable to the impending downpour.

“Holy fuck! My laptop!”

“Wait, Y/N!”

Hastily, you dash back down the path toward the campgrounds, your footsteps echoing in the mud leaving behind a voice that calls out to you.

You worked on your assignment last night in the tent before going to sleep. Once you finished for the night, you left your laptop next to you and that was where you last saw it this morning before you left on the hike as well. There are no signs it was going to rain this weekend. Yeah, the soil seems moist from rainy days from the prior week, but everyone should’ve been safe now. How could the weather change so suddenly like this?

You recklessly sprint, fueled by worries of your irreplaceable laptop and paper, amongst other things. Like reality. And the irritation you feel seeing Namjoon keep giving his attention to— Your thought process cuts as you notice the uneven terrain beneath your feet become treacherous. The realization of the potential catastrophe awaiting you propels you forward, a surge of adrenaline pushing you beyond reason.

In your haste, disaster strikes. A misstep, a slippery surface, and you find yourself sprawled on the ground.

No sound from you, but pain radiating from your scraped knee and throbbing ankle. The once jubilant group following behind is now consumed by concern seeing you on the ground, injured and covered in mud.

Jungkook and Jieun are the first to reach you, genuine worry etched across their faces. "Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice carries a note of genuine concern. Wincing in pain, you shake your head, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "I left my laptop in the tent, and I can't let anything happen to it, so I rushed off." you explain, your words rushed and pained. You feel yourself about to sob as you try to get yourself to stand and your legs are not cooperating.

“Hey, hey, be careful.” The younger man advises. However, the pain makes walking nearly impossible. Before anyone can offer help, Jungkook immediately leans down and decides,“You know what, just get on. I’ll take you somewhere safe.” Jungkook offers, gesturing you to get on his back.

The unexpected gesture catches you off guard.

“O-Okay…thank you Jungkook.”

“I’ll help retrieve your laptop as well. You’ll be okay” Jieun says, and you thank her.

However, as Jungkook carries you through the rain-soaked trail, glances are exchanged among the group. Jimin and Yoongi share a look laden with unsaid sentiments, a subtle pang of jealousy lingering in the air. It should’ve been them to help you, they think to themselves. They are the ones that like you after all. Though for some reason, they froze in that moment.

Namjoon, still grappling with the aftermath of his earlier actions, feels a tinge of disappointment in his own inability to respond swiftly too.

You, Jungkook, and Jieun are the first to make it back to witness the mess. The campsite now lies in disarray. Flooded and muddy soil squelches beneath Jungkook’s feet, and the aftermath of strong winds has left tents in tatters. Items that were once neatly arranged outside the tents now scatter across the ground, casualties of nature's sudden fury.

Amidst the chaos, Jieun takes charge, her quick eyes scanning the wreckage. Miraculously, your laptop emerges unscathed, protected by the cocoon of your sleeping bag. With a relieved smile, she carefully places it in its bag next to it and hands it to Jungkook, who holds it securely.

"We can't stay out here like this," Jin remarks, his practicality cutting through the disappointment that hangs in the air. "It could rain again and we could also get sick."

A collective sigh ripples through the group. The abrupt turn of events forces them to confront the reality of their situation. Plans of an idyllic hike and spending a weekend outdoors have been derailed by the unpredictability of nature.

"I can go check the cabin lodging next to the campsite to see if they have any available," Soyoon suggests, her willingness to take charge evident. Namjoon quickly volunteers to accompany her, the two of them lightly jog toward the lodging office.

In the meantime, everyone takes shelter under the picnic area until the downpour turns into light showers. Once it does, everyone starts packing up and cleaning the campsite in the meantime.

++++++++++++++++++

Luckily, Soyoon and Namjoon manage to book a large cabin by the lakefront.

“It was the only largest one available that could fit all of us. It’s also a little expensive…” Namjoon stated earlier. Seokjin shrugs, saying he’ll cover majority of the cost as long as everyone is able to chip in a little. We all agree. You thank god that Seokjin is the rich friend in the friend group during times like this.

The cabin charms with its cozy allure. A fully stocked kitchen was just what everyone needed right now. The gas BBQ included will definitely be useful to the meats that survived the storm. The upstairs living room invites relaxation with comfy seating and a Smart TV. Everyone immediately takes advantage of this and sits around.

Outdoors, the upper deck beckons with stunning views. Downstairs, the master bedroom offers luxury, a California King bed, and a sliding door to the lower deck overlooking the lake.

Four rooms in total provide ample sleeping space, including a bunk room with two sets of twin bunk beds. Practicality meets convenience with a fully equipped laundry room and an upstairs half bath.

Jungkook carries you into the master bedroom and lays you down on the bed, elevating your head with the pillows. Seokjin grabs a first aid kit he found in the kitchen and takes out bandages, disinfectant and other supplies to tend to your scraped knee and sprained ankle.

“See, told you my boy scout skills will come in handy!” You giggle at Jin’s attempt to cheer you up. As he works, Namjoon hovers nearby, his concern evident.

"You should’ve been careful." Namjoon murmurs, a gentle scolding in his tone.

You manage a sheepish smile, acknowledging his warning. Seokjin finishes the impromptu first aid session, making sure you're comfortable before stepping back.

"Thank you, Jin," you express your gratitude, relieved that the injuries aren't as severe as they could have been.

Seokjin waves it off, "No problem. Just take it easy for a while."

Jin and Jungkook disperse to join the others upstairs. Jimin and Yoongi, lingering at the doorway, exchange a glance.

Jimin steps forward, concern etched on his face. "How are you feeling, Honey?” he asks, sincerity in his eyes.

You nod, offering a reassuring smile. "Alright now, thanks to Jinnie. Thanks for worrying, Jimin."

Yoongi, standing a bit more reserved, adds, "Do you need anything? I can whip up some food."

"That would sound really good right about now."

"Give me about 20 minutes, and I'll come back with some sweet rice porridge. Sounds good?"

"Yes!"

Namjoon remains standing there watching your interaction with them. He feels somehow intimidated by how they're so much closer to you despite you all having the same title of "best friends".

He glances at your laptop on the nearby table trying to find a reason to remain here. While part of him wants to join the others upstairs, he lingers. Maybe he needs to let you know about his feelings soon before his relationship with you strains any further.

He sighs loudly, making you all look at him, “I’ll come back to talk to you later.” He excuses himself and follows Yoongi upstairs, leaving Jimin alone with you.

Aside from the fact that he’s upset that you got hurt, you’re not sure what else could be fueling an unknown frustration behind his eyes. You guess you’ll find out later.

Jimin has some thoughts about Namjoon’s behavior, but decides not to voice them right now and gives his attention back to you.

“You need to get out of these clothes, love. They’re really muddy and gross.” He comments, looking at you with a disgusted expression, making you laugh.

“I would try, but I literally can’t move much.”

“I’ll help you.”

Huh? Did Jimin just say he’ll help you undress yourself? You find yourself feeling very flustered suddenly. What if someone walks in? Locking the door seems suspicious but what else can you do?

“I-It’s fine! I’ll just try removing my clothes slowly one piece at a time!” You wave your hands frantically, creating a makeshift barricade against Jimin's helpful hands.

“Why are you being so shy right now? I’ve seen you naked at least 15 times by now.” he remarks, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

“H-Hey! Shut up! What if someone hears you?”

“Everyone’s upstairs, probably playing board games in the living room. Yoongi won’t be back for another 10 minutes or so. Plus he’s seen you naked too.” He checks his phone. “And he just texted the Sanctuary chat to say that he’ll come in whenever I’m done.” He flashes the text messages Yoongi sent.

You can’t continue arguing with a concerned Jimin, so you decide to surrender.

“Fine, just be quick.”

Jimin's eyes turn into crescents, satisfied he won this battle. He carefully removes your lilac puffer jacket, followed by your black converse sneakers and then your medium washed jeans covered in mostly dried mud and blood from your knee scrape. When he finishes gently unbuttoning your cropped long-sleeve polo shirt and removing it, he starts giggling. Perplexed, you shoot him a puzzled look, unsure what’s so funny to him. I mean, sitting here half naked is humiliating, so maybe you deserve it. You’ve been acting reckless.

“You’re just so pretty, Y/N. Never thought I’d be in a situation to even see you like this before the deal we made.”

Heat fills your face and you can’t even find words to rebuttal his claims. Why have those two men been saying things that make you feel like you’re going insane?

Jimin knows you feel embarrassment, but pays no mind as he unclasps your black bra, removing it and leaving your breasts bare. He decides to tease you a bit more and softly grasps your breasts, squishing them with his hands. Your eyes widen, suddenly feeling a surge of heat radiating elsewhere due to your chests’ sensitivity.

“I really never realized how beautiful you look naked before.” he admits with a playful tone. He continues with his massage until you finally fight back the horny demon that he awakens in you. Not today, Satan.

You playfully smack his arm, urging him to stop. “O-Okay, Jimin! I get it! Just give me that oversized t-shirt from my duffle and leave before I go crazy.”

He chuckles, relinquishing his playful antics and retrieving the desired t-shirt from your bag. “Glad I was able to cheer you up a bit, darling. We’ll have fun another time.”

Once he ensures you're comfortably tucked in, he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead before exiting the room.

Oddly, that felt a lot more intimate than all the sex you two had before. It feels like you two are inching closer to a new territory beyond whatever fuck buddy and best friend relationship you have. You feel a little scared, but somewhat excited.

Before you can dwell on it further, you feel your body become heavier and you gradually drift into a peaceful slumber. You make just a small mental note to apologize to Yoongi for falling asleep before he can feed you some of his porridge.

+++++++++++

Several hours have passed and it is 2:30PM by the time you wake up from your nap. You were hoping to sleep for the rest of the day to avoid whatever confrontation Namjoon wants to have. You are still feeling tingles from the interaction you had with Jimin, but it proved too difficult with your sprained ankle getting in the way. There is also a group of your friends upstairs that will get suspicious at his sudden disappearance if that did happen.

Hwasa has sent you text updates regarding what everyone else is doing upstairs.

Hyejinnie [12:00PM]: I’m going to send you updates so you don’t feel FOMO Hyejinnie [12:01PM]: Wait you might.. I’m sorry bestie. ;( Welp, we are playing board games and eating snacks! Hyejinnie [1:22PM]: I’m helping ur boyfie make lunch with jieun eonnie. Oh and we’re all going to eat kbbq for dinner. Don’t miss out Hyejinnie [1:25PM]: wait not your boyfie i forget he’s just your fwb right now oops. pls ignore. Hyejinnie [2:07PM]: also you need to catch me up on whatever is going on with you and your.. friends. Don’t think i haven’t caught on ;p Hyejinnie [2:14PM]: I think we’re going to watch a movie now. Jieun said she’s going to show us a movie her old crush was in and we have to guess who it is lol Hyejinnie [2:25PM]: idk if you’re up from your nap, but let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the living room watching the movie with everyone else. Some of the guys are on their phones though haha

You appreciate her consistent updates while you remain MIA from the trip festivities. Maybe you should take this quiet time as a chance to get back to working on your paper. You just need a few more paragraphs and a final revision before submitting it on Canvas.

Just as you plop your laptop on your lap, a strong knock is heard at the door. You yell to whoever is on the other side of the door that it's okay to enter. It turns out to be Namjoon.

You don’t feel mentally ready to talk to him yet. You’re honestly not sure if you can come up with any cohesive thoughts as you remember that you haven’t eaten since this morning. You glance around and see the bowl of porridge Yoongi must’ve left on the bedside table while you slept.

“I wanted to come in sooner, but Yoongi told me you fell asleep.”

You nod. “I felt really exhausted after that hike, the run and injury, so I knocked out once I felt safe enough to do so.”

“So is now a good time to talk?”

You feel hesitant to say yes, knowing another lecture from your tall, beefy best friend awaits you. You’re so over this trip. Despite all these feelings, you decide just to do it and get it out the way so you can eat.

You nod. “Okay, what did you want to ask me?”

“Why have you been acting really weird lately?”

He doesn’t hesitate to get straight to the point, which doesn’t surprise you much. Okay, so you’ve been caught. But what about you has been weird to him though? Does that mean the others have caught on to your behavior too?

You feign ignorance. “Can you elaborate by what you mean, Namjoon?” Your voice sounds deadpan, with a hint of coldness.

“Can you stop acting like you don’t know what you’re doing when you’ve been staring at me and Soyoon throughout this whole trip?”

Oh.

You shrug. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He ignores your remark and continues, “I already told you before. There is nothing going on between me and her, so you can just stop feeling jealous or whatever.”

Jealous? What?! How dare he make that accusation. You’re not jealous. You’re just worried for the sake of your friendship. There’s no other feelings tied to that…is there? Memories from the party in October where you saw Namjoon and Jihyo flash in your mind.

“No the fuck I’m not!” you immediately deny, a little too quick at that.

“Yes, you fucking are.” he smiles, knowing how right he is based on your defensive response.

“You’re sorely mistaken, Joon.”

“No, I’m not, Y/N. I noticed this even when I was seeing Jihyo and the girl before that. For some reason, you’re always acting off when another girl is involved with me.” He explains further.

Fuck. He really caught on to that a little too well. You know what, maybe he is right. Maybe you’re not jealous out of concern that these girls that keep showing up in Namjoon’s life will take him away from you. It’s really because you wish you were in their place. Being so intimately closer to him than you have ever been. Another flying thought of Yoongi’s questions that caused you to spiral comes to mind.

“You literally do that to me! I couldn’t even go somewhere without you acting weird and accusing me of hanging out with other men who do not live in our house.”

“That’s different.” He rubs the crease between his brows, you press your lips even tighter in frustration. “Plus, I don’t even think I trust some of the ones that do live in our house.”

Namjoon’s comment has you puzzled. What is he trying to imply?

“Why do you think that?”

“I’ve just had a feeling that something weird is going on, and everyone seems to know except for me.”

Shit, everyone? You’ve been cautious this whole time except when you first slept with Yoongi, leading Jungkook to find out. But Jin, Hoseok and Taehyung? Have they somehow realized and have been quiet about it. There’s no way to address something you don’t even know. You have to redirect the conversation.

“You say that, but you’re the one being so vague about why you've been so buddy buddy with Soyoon lately.” You mutter with an attitude, crossing your arms. “You don’t have to hide it and lie to me if you’re interested in her. Just go date her already.”

Namjoon scoffs. He walks closer to you, outstretching his arms on both of your sides, caging you. He’s so close, smelling like the fresh wood sage cologne he sprays on after a shower. For some reason, this smell is more intoxicating right now than ever before. Your heartbeat feels like it’s increasing from the close proximity. This isn’t even the first time you’ve been this close to him, but there’s some kind of energy making you feel anxious than before.

“Because I don’t fucking want to.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“You.” Namjoon mouths out, words so quiet feeling like only you two are meant to hear.

“Huh? Me?” You scrunch your eyebrows while whispering at him. “Is my jealousy really getting in the way of you being happy?”

“You’re one of the smartest people I know and you still want me to spell it out for you?” He chuckles bitterly, seemingly feeling like he’s going to regret the next sentence that’s going to come out of his mouth.

You nod, “Yes, because I’m still confused about your actions and I’m tired of the constant misunderstandings and fights— ”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

The world suddenly goes silent for what feels like a thousand minutes.

Your mouth is left agape, unable to find any reason to continue speaking. Whatever thought bubbles filled your head with anger and anxiety are now gone. You find it hard to gather the next words you say from looking right into Namjoon’s dragon eyes, mesmerizing you.

“Y-You’re in l-love with me.” The realization escapes your lips, rather shaky, The words hanging in the air, charged with an unexpected gravity.

Namjoon takes a deep breath, his eyes holding a mix of determination and vulnerability. "Yes, I've been in love with you for a long time. Soyoon was in the process of helping me confess to you on Valentine's Day, but with you acting jealous and making up scenarios in your head, I couldn't keep it a secret any longer."

Your mind races, processing his confession. Namjoon, your best friend, has just declared his love for you. The first one out of your friends… but is he? You vaguely remember Yoongi saying something similar during that one party, but you brushed it off. There’s also Hwasa’s observations… Jimin’s kiss on his birthday…

Oh no.

The gravity of the situation sinks in, and your internal conflict intensifies. You're entangled in a complicated fuck buddies deal with Yoongi and Jimin, who potentially may be in love with you too. And now a lot of these things are starting to make sense,

Then there’s Namjoon's words adding a new layer of concern. How will this confession affect your shit with Yoongi and Jimin? You like all of them but do you love them? You also do not live in a perfect universe to be dating all of them. Would they even want that?

Namjoon must sense your anxiety skyrocketing, because he leans in and kisses your forehead. And for just a bit, you go back to feeling floaty. You want to feel like this all the time, but it’s not going to happen anytime soon. You have things to resolve.

“You probably have a lot on your mind. I do too.” He cups your cheeks, sincerely staring into your eyes. “You don’t have to answer me right now. I just wanted to ease your mind before anything else happens.”

You nod back slowly, waiting for him to continue.

“I might be gone for the fall semester.” He starts, moving over to sit on your bed.

Oh.

“I applied for a study abroad law program in New Zealand and Korea. I’ll be in my last year and my parents told me over winter break that they want me to go abroad and gain some new experience. I see Yoongi working so hard and I feel like I haven’t been doing much at all.”

This new information comes as a shock to you, and you feel excited for him, yet sad for several reasons

Namjoon had fought with his parents last summer about wanting to pursue a career as an archivist or art conservator. They said it wasn’t ideal and that he should focus on being a civil servant and then become a politician. He came over to your house once and stayed the night in your room, shedding tears about how his parents didn’t understand him.

The second reason is more selfish: You’ve never been apart from Namjoon for a long time since you first met him. Sure, since you guys have a one year age difference, there were times that you weren’t at the same school together. Though, it’s not like you never saw each other at least some point in the week. You’re neighbors after all. This would be different. Maybe there will be an occasional facetime call or texts sent during different time zones from him retelling his adventures. Though it won’t be the same as having him with you. You’re not going to admit that right now though.

“So you’re not going to pursue art and become an archivist or art conservator anymore?”

“I…I am. I’ll find a way to prove to my parents that I can do this and be successful. I’ll network, find a way to get into that space more. Studying abroad would be a great way to do that.” He explains softly.

You remember the question Yoongi had asked yesterday about your dreams. You still feel like you don’t have a concrete answer, but seeing the way your older best friends try so hard makes you think you should start focusing on that as well. You wonder if Jimin has any thoughts of his own regarding the future too.

Namjoon continues to converse with you about his future plans and why he had to confess to you now, as he didn’t want it to be “too late” and regret it later on. While you don’t ask him what he meant by that, you kind of had an idea.

++++++++

Once Namjoon leaves your room to rejoin everyone upstairs, the floaty and relaxed feeling inside you fades away and you immediately start to feel like shit.

The truth begins to bear down on you: Yoongi and Jimin's friends-with-benefits arrangement might not be just a casual fling. They probably like you too — well, more than a best friend. The deal was probably to act as a trial period, a way for them to express their feelings without the complexity of a formal confession and for you to realize some repressed feelings. Although now, with Namjoon's direct and sincere confession, you just simply don’t know what to do anymore.

Things were easier when you didn’t have to think about this much originally with Yoongi. Just have sex from time to time and still remain best friends. When Jimin managed to seduce you, awakening something within you, and get added as fuck buddy #2, you had stepped into a dangerous zone. Now the thought of Namjoon getting added to that…

No! He’d never do it. He’s not as open-minded and insane to become your third fuck buddy. If he found out, you don’t think he’d be happy. He’d probably murder Yoongi and Jimin for hiding and doing such an insane thing. Then you’d be next. And even if you’d add Namjoon to this fuck buddies trial deal, you don’t think anyone would be happy in the end.

You love them all. No favoritism for one over the others. They all have something that makes you feel butterflies, whether you realized it before or not.

Is this the perfect time to talk to Hwasa about your dilemma? You don’t even think you’ve told her about you and Jimin, but she’s perceptive. She probably saw some signs, but hadn’t commented on them.

You [4:03PM]: Hey Hwasa, we need to have a girl talk time. Hyejinnie [4:04PM]: Say no more! I’m telling Jungkook to come carry you up so we can talk in my room.

And just when you received that message, Jungkook shows up at the door and bows to you.

“I have been requested to bring up the Honey Princess to Hwasa’s room.”

You laugh. He’s adorable, you think. “Yes? Please take me up, Sir Jungkook.”

Jungkook carries you on his back once again, up the stairs. You take a glance of Yoongi, Jieun, Jin and Namjoon in the kitchen, preparing dinner before you are in Hwasa and Soohyun’s shared room at the end of the hall. Jungkook comments that he’s getting you ice to make your ankle’s swelling go down, leaving the room. You faintly hear him scolding your guy besties for not doing that earlier, making you guys laugh. He comes back with a bag of ice and then exits the room, closing the door in the process.

Hwasa greets you with a warm smile as you settle onto the bed, propping yourself up against the pillows. This bedroom is adorned with fairy lights, creating a cozy atmosphere that contrasts the turmoil in your mind. Hwasa, perceptive as always, senses that something serious is on your mind.

"So spill, what's going on?" she asks, her eyes filled with concern.

You take a deep breath, contemplating where to begin. "Remember my thing with Yoongi…” You whisper, hoping no one outside could hear. The TV is pretty loud playing someone’s Spotify playlist though.

“Yes, of course! Are y’all still…”

“We are.” Hwasa nods in response. “I’ve been keeping things lowkey so I haven’t told you much advancements, but I also started doing that with Jimin."

Her eyes widen, not in surprise, but more in confirmation of her past observations. “I figured that might’ve been the case when I kept seeing you be a little more touchier than usual in class last semester."

Your face reddens as you remark. “Nothing really passes by you, does it?” Hwasa can’t help but laugh at your reaction.

“You’re literally living the dream!” She holds both of your hands, intrigued at your ‘love life’. “They’re two of the finest frat boys on this campus. I don’t see how there can be a problem.”

"Except there is…" you admit, unraveling your overall deal with Jimin and Yoongi, your thoughts about them probably liking you and the argument you had with Namjoon earlier. As you share the details, Hwasa listens attentively, offering occasional nods and empathetic expressions.

"Wow, that's…a lot," she remarks when you finish. "And now Namjoon dropped the bomb? He’s equally as hot too."

You nod, feeling the weight of the situation. "Exactly. I never expected him to confess. I didn’t think he felt that way about me. Now, I'm stuck in this mess, and I don't know what to do!" You fall back onto the pillows, looking at the ceiling in frustration.

Hwasa places a comforting hand on yours. "First things first, take a deep breath.” You do. “It's a lot to process, but you'll figure it out. Now, tell me how you feel about each of them. Let’s start with Jimin"

“Jimin is someone who I feel comfortable with to try new things. He’s always managed to get me out of my shell and without him, I don’t think I’d be the person I am today. He’s also really kinky in bed so…Soft dom vibes?”

“Okay, spicy, I see! And Yoongi?”

“Yoongi feels like my soulmate…even Jimin pointed it out. We’re so in tune with one another that I don’t feel so on edge around him. I feel more relaxed. But I’m so emotionally driven and sometimes he doesn’t get that. Though he does try. Always does.”

Hwasa coughs repeatedly, “How’s the sex?”

“I… It’s really fucking good. Getting fingered by a man who plays the guitar is another worldly experience. Ten out of ten.” Hwasa squeals hearing this, but quickly covers her mouth to avoid anyone coming in concerned.

“Well holy shit. I guess that leaves Namjoon?”

“Namjoon, right.” You haven’t thought about it much before, but it was mainly because you’ve tried not to see him like that. He was obviously attractive with his muscles and tall height. His brains are another thing. “Aside from how obviously hot he’s always been, his mind is just so eloquent. He’s such a big brother at times and while I get annoyed at his lecturing, he makes me feel grounded and keeps challenging me to work harder. I don’t know what else to say?”

You find that articulating your emotions brings a sense of clarity. Hwasa provides thoughtful insights and asks probing questions, guiding you through the maze of your own emotions.

Once you've laid out your feelings, Hwasa leans back, pondering. "Alright, here's what I think. You need to have an honest conversation with all of them. Start off with Yoongi and Jimin, then somehow get Namjoon in that conversation. Lay your cards on the table, and let them know where you stand. It's the only way to avoid misunderstandings and hurt feelings."

You sigh, realizing the truth in her words. "But what if I can't choose between them? What if I ruin everything?"

Hwasa smirks, "Then, my dear, you need to consider a different kind of arrangement—one that works for all parties involved. But that's a discussion for another day. For now, focus on being open and honest with them. You owe it to yourself and to them."

“You’re right. Thank you Hwasa for hearing me out on my crazy dramatic life. I appreciate you so much.” You gesture her to get closer so you can give her a hug, and she does.

+++++++++++

After your heart-to-heart with Hwasa, Jungkook comes in to let you know that dinner is ready and that he’ll be taking you over there. You appreciate his kindness.

The delicious aroma of the meat wafts through the air as you enter the kitchen, where the group is gathered around the table, engaged in lively conversation.

Jin, always the culinary maestro, tells everyone to take their seats. As you settle in, you can't help but glance at your three best friends at different points during the meal.

Yoongi is focused on grilling meat, his brows furrowed in concentration. The subtle scent of his cooking skills fills the air, momentarily distracting you from your internal conflict. You catch his eye, and there's a silent understanding between you two.

Jimin, sitting across from you, steals occasional glances your way. His gaze is warm and comforting, reassuring you that no matter the complications, he's there for you. A small smile passes between you that speaks volumes.

Namjoon, busy discussing something with Hoseok, occasionally looks in your direction. There's a mix of emotions in his eyes—longing, and perhaps a touch of hope.

The dinner is filled with laughter and camaraderie as the trip ends tonight. You try to savor the meal and the company, but the weight of the unspoken hangs in the air.

As the night progresses, you find yourself more restless. The uncertainty of your situation gnaws at you. Once dinner concludes, you and the other girls go to the living room to watch some youtube videos on the smart TV. As they busy themselves talking about stuff, you grab your phone and open the group chat with Yoongi and Jimin.

You [8:45PM]: Valentine’s Day. I’ll give you my decision.

Sending the message, you brace yourself for the conversations that lie ahead. Whatever happens, you face it headstrong.

–

–

tbc :O a/n: uh-oh we're getting to the conflicting part hehehehe !!! i apologize for the delay getting this chapter out. i am currently working on some big things and doing some interviews so the fic had been neglected for a month or so, but i am back for a bit and already working on CH 8 as well! Anyone have any thoughts or theories on what Y/N will decide to say? i'd love to hear about them so lmk hehehe thank you all for reading!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist! ➸ love u lately series masterlist

[nerdyjournals]

Flowers have sad meanings too

Florist!Y/N

Many believe that working in a flower shop is all gumdrops and rainbows, but it's not. It's stories of heartbreak and sadness. I wish I could remember their names, but I can't grieve every one of them. No matter how hard I try.

Author's Note: 3/8 of these mini tales are based on encounters I have had while working in my field. They are INSPIRED and not exact.

DISCLAIMER: ANY SIMILARITIES THESE ENTRIES HAVE TO A PERSON, PLACE, EVENT, OR SITUATION IS COINCIDENTAL AND NOT INTENDED TO MIMIC ANYONE.

WARNING: THIS PIECE TOUCHES ON DEATH AND ITS AFFECTS, SUBJECTS OF DEPRESSION, AND ASSUMED SU1C1D3. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO SUBJECTS LIKE THESE, PLEASE SKIP THIS POST.

Boy #1

He was a boy with his whole life ahead of him. His mother said that he was very protective of his siblings, so protective that it's what took him.

She said it was a break in, one that happened in the dead of night. She never heard it. All she heard was the sound of her daughter screaming for help as her husband tackled the man to the floor. She didn't even hear the gun go off.

He was on his way to college in the fall, full ride. He was very talented. They hope to release his works down the road, but for now, some things stay locked away. Not because they're bad or sad, but because the grief was too fresh.

Boy #2

He was an interesting story. A quiet kid that everyone thought was mean, but was a very sweet guy and an only child. He loved animals.

His flowers were ordered by his friends because his parents were too shattered by the news. One of them couldn't keep it together, ended up telling about him. He was off volunteering to help build houses when one of them collapsed on top of him and a few others. They came out with minor injuries, but he wasn't so lucky. They spew out so many things about his kind heart but stone-like demeanor. It hurt to see that it was also his undoing.

Other families came and ordered, many of them being young kids in the dance classes he taught. Many of the kids still not understanding why their favorite teacher wasn't coming back. His parents finally arrived to order, but my heart was too fragile to be there.

Boy #3

His sister wouldn't stop talking about how he had wanted to do a lot with his life. She said that he was going to the gym everyday to get stronger. He was a gentle soul, a loving gentleman. Sickness took him far too soon.

It started off with a bad cough and a fever, she said. Then it just kept getting worse. By the time he was eighteen, he was fully living in his hospital room. It broke her heart to see how he dwindled away until he was almost nothing but skin and bones. She was thankful that he went in his sleep, going painlessly.

She couldn't stop repeating that she felt like a bad sister, that she should've done more to help him recover. It broke me a little more on the inside when I couldn't tell her that it wasn't up to her to fix him. I could only stay silent.

Boy #4

Only one person ordered him flowers, but it was a lot of flowers. Other than his parents, this boy received flowers from dozens of people. Friends, teachers, acquaintances - you name it. They all ordered through one person as they were the only one in town.

The pieces were extravagant, ranging from small vases to large sprays. They said that they wanted to reflect him; an artist surrounded by colors. No one knows what took him; whether self or sickness. They just found him in his studio one cold winter morning, slumped over an unfinished painting.

They said he'll have a gallery set up after the service, show off the wonders he created. I might go. If not just to see a fellow tortured soul. One day, his name will be known alongside the greats. For now, he'll be known to me.

Boy #5

His flowers were ordered over the phone by his mother, said something about it becoming too final if she stepped into the store.

I heard about this boy on the news. They found him in his car, just off the highway. He was so young, but the demons got to him before anyone else could.

I could only sit silent as she cried in my ear, blaming herself for not helping him. Little does she know the demons live in everyone. Including mine.

Boy #6

This boy was proof that the brightest smiles hide the darkest demons. His sisters couldn't hold themselves together as I flipped through the binder. The older one said that she blamed herself, saying that she should've seen the signs.

He went as he slept, passing in silence. She said that he had been bullied for years, but since he stopped talking about it, they assumed it stopped. They found him gone in the morning. I can never understand how some people find it acceptable to be so harsh to another.

They showed me his photo. He had a bright smile, one that was even wider with his family. It almost breaks my very soul that he suffered alone.

Boy #7

This was my first family order. The poor family was lost due to a faulty monoxide detector. The remaining members were in the middle of suing the landlord on top of mourning the family.

They didn't know until the son failed to show up for school for three days, unlike him they said. Same for the parents.

The boy was said to start high school next year. They were all excited since he would be attending the private school near the edge of town, one that was hard to get into without good grades. Now, the world could never see what he would amount to.

Boy #8

He was a child.

No mother should ever be allowed to outlive her baby. He was innocent, a victim of medical circumstance. They never said what he had, but they ordered him a beautiful urn display.

His younger brother, one still so small, would almost never know about the brother who left too early. His older brother was deployed, but is in an emergency flight back over to give his good byes.

A child...goodness.

[midnightscramble]

Hey, I know this is probably rude to ask, but I'm a sucker for Portia Featherington. Is there any chance you are to write for her again sometime soon?

Lord Featherington Must Die Part 1 (Portia Featherington x fem!Reader)

Part 1, Part 2

The Masterlist

Author's Note: Not rude at all to ask! I promise this is a romance, stick with it and see how it develops. For those who are wondering, the title is in reference to the movie John Tucker Must Die. If it is not to your liking, ask for something else (don't be shy!). Happy readings to you.

Summary: Taking place the season before the Featherington daughters enter the marriage mart. Lord Featherington not so discreetly tries to pursue another woman, inviting her on the family's off season trip to be his eldest daughter's companion. Portia is less than pleased with these events.

Warnings: hurt no real comfort, attempted one-sided cheating, marital issues, domestic violence (a glass is thrown but does not make contact)

Poised, proper, and cool under pressure. That is the mantra Portia Featherington had been raised on, a mantra which would die with her given that all her daughters' had some strain of social ineptness. She was relieved the season had ended, as she could at least take the time to try to train her daughters before their own seasons would be thrust upon them. Archibald Featherington's complete lack of interest in the girls worsened the situation, leaving her to be the only corrector of bad habits. Perhaps once the bustle of the city was far from them, he would participate in raising his children. Not that he had during any other off-season, but still, Portia hoped.

As she organized with Varley what the girls would need for the trip, Penelope approached her tentatively, "Mother, I would like a moment to speak with you." Portia quickly glanced up from the packing list, giving her daughter silent permission to continue. "Lady Bridgerton has invited me to spend autumn and winter at their country estate. I would be Eloise's companion." Portia was taken aback momentarily and her focus settled on Penelope.

Almost all of the Bridgerton sons were unwed and of age, so sending her youngest daughter to them could be an advantage come next season. "What a delightful offer. You may accept on the condition that Phillipa and Varley will go with you as your chaperones. Do be sure to thank Lady Bridgerton for her kindness." Penelope squealed in excitement, and in an uncharacteristic display of affection, rushed to hug her mother. Stumbling slightly, Portia enjoyed the rare moment and held her tightly. Her youngest daughter and she usually elected to forgo familial pleasantries such as hugging, a pattern which Portia wanted to break but did not have a single inclination as to how to go about it.

"Thank you, Mother. I promise to write to you every week!" Penelope broke from her arms and hurried through the house, no doubt rushing to the Bridgerton estate to call upon Eloise. Portia stood by the window to make sure she crossed the road safely, tracking her daughter until she made it to the front door. Before she could walk away, she noticed Prudence and Miss Y/n walking on the other side of the street, with Lord Featherington trailing behind them.

Miss Y/n Y/l/n was a new addition to Prudence's social circle, and a rather beautiful one at that. She had advised her daughter to only spend time with the young woman during the off-season. It would not do her well to stand next to someone so radiant at social gatherings, and would only serve to make Prudence invisible to eligible suitors. However, it would also be important to befriend her. Young women tend to favor platonic attachments, making them less likely to steal dance partners from those they are loyal to. If Prudence could gain Miss Y/n's loyalty now, then the woman would pose no threat when Prudence makes her entrance into society. Despite being titleless, the young woman was to be an heiress to her last living relative, a distant cousin. Which made her quite suitable company for Prudence. Portia found herself wondering what the two women talked about, her daughter was not known for being entertaining, so whatever they were laughing at must be on account of Miss Y/l/n’s cleverness. She broke away from the window and returned to her spot next to Varley, continuing their discussion on what to bring.

Moments later, she heard the familiar sound of heeled slippers bounding up the staircase to the study. Prudence entered the room excitedly, with her arm entwined in Miss Y/l/n’s, “MaMa, Brilliant news! Father has arranged with Lord Y/l/n for us to take Y/n to the country with us!” The redhead clung onto her new friend, rocking back and forth on her heels with pure giddiness. Miss Y/l/n smiled at the matriarch, “If it would please you, my Lady, I would love to be Prudence’s travel companion. My cousin has approved the impromptu trip and is willing to provide the necessary funds for any accommodations you would have to make.” Portia looked over Miss Y/l/n’s shoulder, and saw her husband leaning against the door frame with the slouched posture of a commoner. He looked over the room cooly, feigning disinterest. 

Before Portia could respond, her husband interjected, “It would please our family greatly, Miss Y/l/n. I suggest that Prudence accompany you back to the Y/l/n estate and direct your maid in organizing your luggage.” He approached the girls and took each one’s hand in his own, guiding them out of the room, “I’ll have a carriage drawn for you.” Portia did not miss how Archibald’s touch seemed to linger on Miss Y/l/n’s skin, nor how his fingers danced at the edge of her sleeve, discreetly moving the fabric aside to touch her delicate wrist. Portia’s eyes twitched, already theorizing as to what her husband’s intentions were by inviting the young woman on their trip. 

With a clipped tone, Portia looked at her maid, “Varley, leave us.” The older woman nodded politely and took her leave, making sure to close the study door to ensure the couple their privacy. Running her tongue across her teeth, she seethed, “I understand that these trips are trying for you, but can you not just visit a house of sin in the country? As you usually do.”

He walked to the desk and poured himself three fingers of whisky, “I have not the faintest idea of which you speak.” He took a long sip, pointedly looking at his wife, “It should be good for Prudence, to have a travel companion.” Portia threw her hands up at the dismissal. She hated this game, where he played the fool and she played the hag. He would never admit to any wrong doings, always denying or having some excuse, making it impossible to truly condemn him. She did not relish arguing with him, and more often than not she preferred to expel her suspicions from her mind, hoping that he was as honest as he claimed to be. At the end of the day, Portia wanted her husband to be loyal, so much so that she would accept his half cooked bluffs as undeniable truths. Perhaps, if she could make herself believe it, it would become true.

She crossed the room, and came to rest a hand upon his chest, “I was hoping that you and I would spend quality time together…” She watched as his eyes fled across the room, silently begging for them to meet her own. 

He sniffed and raised his brows, considering her words, “We will, and in order for that to happen, Prudence must be entertained.” Portia moved closer in his arms, resting her forehead on his shoulder. She could put her suspicions aside for now and choose to believe Archibald, it would make the trip much more pleasant for the both of them. He felt her nod into his shoulder and ducked his head to come closer to hers. For a moment, Portia’s breath caught. It was not often that he spared her such affections. She let her eyes close and tilted her head up, allowing him greater access to her lips. When she felt the imprint of his cracked lips on her forehead, she chided herself for thinking after all these years, he would suddenly grow warmer. She supposed that this trip would force them into close proximity, and perhaps rekindle the spark they had felt when they first married. But if that were to happen, she would need to keep a close eye on Miss Y/l/n.

…

Arriving back to the house with footmen holding Miss Y/n’s luggage, Prudence and her friend began discussing the activities they would partake in upon arrival, “I must show you the lake, it reflects an emerald green around sunset, quite the sight.” The young woman pushed the redhead in a playful manner, “So you can push me in? I think I shall skip your ‘tour’ of the lake.” Prudence snorted and immediately covered her mouth as the undignified noise met her ears. A second carriage arrived in front of the estate, confusing the women. 

“Are the bags being taken separately?” Prudence questioned the coachman. 

“No, Miss Prudence. Lady Featherington and Miss Y/n will be traveling in one, and you and the Lord Featherington in another. Your mother does not want to strain the horses on such a long, cumbersome journey.” Prudence nodded in understanding. She would have argued with her mother about being separated from Y/n, however it was perfectly reasonable for each of the young women to be paired with a chaperone. It would not be acceptable for two young, unwed women to be stranded with footmen, should something happen. 

Portia emerged from around the corner, with her husband hot on her trail, seemingly trying to dissuade her of something, “It is unnecessary, we do not need to travel separately.” Ignoring him entirely she joined the young women, “Shall we?” She motioned to the carriages and took Miss Y/l/n’s arm, beginning a very quick stride. 

Once settled in the carriage, Portia examined the woman across from her. Even if Archibald was telling the truth, she knew that men were weak when it came to the fairer sex, which is why she was determined to keep Miss Y/n within her line of sight whenever possible and thus out of her husband’s reach. Knowing that if her silent stare went on any longer, her company would surely misconstrued it to be intimidation, the Lady tried to start a conversation, “So, Prudence tells me that you study art?” She tilted her head slightly to convey her faux interest.

“I do. I find the Roman works fascinating-” Portia interrupted her, “It will do you no good to focus on such hobbies, a future suitor may find it off putting, Miss Y/l/n.” A young woman with as much potential as Miss Y/l/n would obviously be educated in all sorts of cultural topics, however, Portia thought she should have enough etiquette to not flex her knowledge. 

“Well, I do not intend to marry so the opinion of this hypothetical suitor is not of concern to me.”

Portia stared at her with wide, owlish eyes, “What woman does not wish to marry?” Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. Given that Miss Y/l/n would be an heiress, the only thing she could want for now would be a title, something only a husband could award her. This revelation was truly shocking for the Lady.

“I have no reason to. At this point, a husband would only prove to be a headache.” Miss Y/l/n gave her a tight lipped smile, hoping the display would soften the ill-mannered statement.

“You do not care for titles?” Portia tried to reason. Miss Y/l/n laughed cheekily, making the Lady agitated, “I do not care for the accompanying responsibilities of a marriage.”

Portia hummed, thinking she had figured the woman out, “You do not wish for children.” Miss Y/l/n’s smile dropped and she looked at her coldly, making the redhead shiver. “I do not possess the ability to have children. In my youth, my parents and I were in an accident. In the doctor’s haste to cure me, they removed the vital organs.” Portia sat quietly, reflecting on Miss Y/l/n’s words. From gossip, she knew that Miss Y/l/n had mourned her parents after the tragic accident, however, she did not know of the accompanying loss. Within the span of a few days, she had not only lost her past but her future. Uncomfortable with her prior bluntness, Portia apologized, “My condolences, Miss Y/l/n. I hope I did not cause any harm by asking.” 

Waving a hand dismissively, the heiress murmured as her attention was turned toward the window, “It would not be fair, to condemn a Lord to marriage despite not being able to give him an heir. Besides, it is all in the past. … You do not have to call me that. Y/l/n is my dear cousin’s last name. Ever since I came under his guardianship, it has been bestowed upon me… However, I would prefer you call me Y/n.” 

Portia licked her lips, slightly eager to please the woman after bridging up such an uncomfortable topic, “Thank you, Y/n.” The young woman gently took the Lady’s hand in her own, letting her know that all was well between the two of them. The heavy firmness of her hold distracted Portia, briefly alleviating her of any and all coherent thought. Y/n retracted her hands and rested them politely in her lap, leaving the Lady feeling a slight loss. 

They sat in silence for the rest of the journey, each consumed by their own thoughts. Portia worried herself with the details of the trip, recounting all that had been packed. While Y/n tried desperately to look forward to her escape from the city.

…

By the time they had arrived at the country home, the moon stood proudly above the rolling hills. They trudged out of the carriages and into the home. An array of finger sandwiches had been left out by the staff and Y/n used her handkerchief to gather some before her and Prudence went up to their rooms. Prudence led Y/n to her room in the west wing, and then journeyed to her own in the north. 

Archibald made no commentary as he walked past his wife and up the stairs. She followed closely behind him, unsure if he was going to bed or to the parlor. She hoped for the latter, as she had made a request that the master bedroom be prepped for the both of them, rather than have their own separate rooms. He would be much more passive to the arrangement if he had a drink or two before, and to Portia’s relief he took a left towards the parlor. He stripped off his coat and left it hanging over the back of the couch before he mixed himself a drink at the bar. 

He hummed in contentment and pressed the glass into his wife’s palm, offering her a sip. She did love these yearly vacations, the weather seemed to relax Archibald and he was always elated after the seasonal return on his investments. His agreeableness and lack of responsibility allowed them to enjoy each other’s company in the country’s splendor. She took a mock sip, not fond of his choice of gin, but not wanting to reject his kind offer. Archibald crossed the room and picked out a book from one of the many shelves full of them, “I am going to retire for the evening.”

Portia clung tightly to the drink and she flashed him a furtive smile, “Then we shall retire.” He looked at her warily, unaware that the master bedroom had been made up for the two of them. She followed him through the halls and his shoulders tensed in agitation. He sent her a grim look over his shoulder, and she widened her eyes to appear innocent. The Lord sucked on his tongue, displeased with her shallow gambit of obliviousness. He knew very well what she wanted and was not in the mood. The Lord tightened his grip on the book.

Upon arriving at the room he quickly noticed that her trunks had been deposited near the armoire, and he spun on his feet to address the issue, “It seems they have made a mistake. I shall send for someone to correct it.” She put a gentle hand to his chest to stop him from leaving the room. He halted and drew away from her, off put by what he interpreted as smothering. 

“There was no mistake, I asked for my things to be brought here.” The Lady curled her lips up, in a manner which he used to find seductive, however now instead of inspiring lust, it only inspired aggravation. 

Turning away from her, he sighed and tossed the book on the bed, which landed with a heavy thud due to the force. Archibald rested a hand on the nightstand, he slouched as he took a deep breath. Heat rose to his ears as he spoke sharply, “I will have your things moved to the west wing. The guest bedroom is just as large, you shall find it to your liking.”

She moved closer, softly pleading, “Archie,” He turned towards her, snatching the glass from her hands. She flinched at his abruptness but found herself frozen as she watched him raise the glass. Within milliseconds, the remaining liquid in it had sloshed out the sides as his arm drew back towards his head. His knuckles were white as he exerted pressure on the glass, and she couldn’t tell where he was aiming once it had left his finger tips. Blood rushed in her ears as she felt the air move by the side of her head. By centimeters, the glass had missed her. Portia remained in her position, despite the sound of shattering glass calling to her attention. Spit flung out of his mouth, “Dammit woman! Are you incapable of listening? Shall I repeat myself?”

Portia shook her head softly, feeling her nose sting as fear crept up her spine and made her eyes dewy. She rushed to the door and left it open in her hurry to leave. She strode down the hall to the opposing wing, not slowing till she heard the master bedroom door being slammed shut. She moved her jaw side to side, determined not to cry over another one of his temperamental outbursts. Portia reasoned with herself that the stress of the journey had made him tired and irritable. Sighing she entered the guest bedroom, cursing herself for pushing him to this. Sleeping in a slip rather than a nightgown bothered Portia. However, she knew by returning to Archibald, even just to retrieve some clothing from her trunk, she would be putting herself in the path of his wrath. Slightly irked, she folded back the comforter of the bed and slipped beneath the cotton sheets. It would surprise the average Lady of the Ton, how easily Portia slept after such an unsavory argument with her husband, but with great practice comes great ease. 

…

Morning came all too quickly for the weary travelers. Portia had slept through breakfast, and when she finally awoke she found a tray of pastries and fruit at the foot of her door. She brought it inside and ate on the balcony. The guest room was pleasant, spacious, and had a lovely view of the landscape. From her spot on the balcony, she could see Prudence and Y/n walking down to the lake on the property. It always perplexed her as to why Prudence enjoyed frequenting it when she had no interest in learning how to swim. Portia was a keen swimmer, and rather enjoyed submerging herself in the estate’s shimmering body of water, while the rest of the family seemed to favor simply looking upon it. She would have to find time to slip away and enjoy the advantages of nature. 

From beneath her, she heard the door to the terrace open. Cigar smoke rose in the air, making her nose twitch. She watched as her husband took long strides toward one of the many benches scattered along the path. With a newspaper beneath his arm and cigar in hand, he triumphantly took a seat, completely unaware of his observer. He opened the newspaper as though he were covering his face, and turned his head down the path. Portia followed his line of sight and realized Archibald, much like herself, was keeping an eye on what he felt entitled to. Y/n and Prudence laughed jovially, flicking water at each other with their finger tips. Portia wished she could enjoy the scene, however her husband’s enjoyment spoiled her own.  

She figured it would soon be time for lunch, and she did not want the Lord to become accustomed to her absence at meals. Nor did she want him to become accustomed to Y/n’s presence. Portia did not blame the girl, not in any meaningful way. However, Miss Y/n was proving to be an obstacle in obtaining her husband’s attention. She also could not blame her simple husband. If she were a man, Portia would surely pursue the young woman. Y/n was captivating, she moved with grace and was charming in conversation. The fact that the heiress was utterly uninterested in having a romantic life bothered Portia, when really, it should have relieved her for her husband and daughter’s sake. She would not pose a threat to Prudence during the social season, nor to herself in rescuing her marriage to Archibald. Still, the piece of information felt incorrect to Portia. How could eyes, that were so enigmatic in the way they reflected light, not want to gaze softly into those of a lover? How could hands, ever gentle yet firm in the way they clasped her own in the carriage, not want to hold the hands of a betrothed? It seemed like a cruel joke, for a body to be so obviously built for romance, yet be condemned to a life as a spinster. 

The Lord coughed, choking on the smoke from his cigar, drawing Portia out of her thoughts. She cringed internally at the sound. One thing that she could never overcome was his unseemly noises. She truly despised the sounds he made when he cleared his phlegmy throat. Dining with him was a task all on its own, given how he chewed like a cow and scraped his fork against the plate after every bite. There were times during her pregnancy with Penelope where Portia would have sworn on her mother’s grave that she could hear Archibald’s snoring from down the hall, forcing her to move to an entirely different floor for the night. Although. when he was awake and stationary, she found him far more tolerable, even amusing. She wondered if all Ladies had such difficulties. 

Strangely, his coughing did not cease. He continued to hack, and used the newspaper to catch his spittle. She watched with apprehension as his cheeks became an unnatural shade of crimson, not entirely sure what to do. He recovered himself and took large gulps of air, and Portia released a breath she did not know she was holding. He began to stand and Portia quickly ducked back into her room, not wanting the man to know she was spying on him. Busying herself, she pulled the servant bell. It was time for her to leave the comfort of the guest room and remind her husband that he has a wife who is in need of tending to.

[akiranzee]

💧 • ° ` — “I CAN’T SAVE US, MY ATLANTIS”

-> PAIRINGS: Giyuu Tomioka x f!Y/n -> SUMMARY: Lovers’ quarrel. What could they ever regret about it? -> WORD COUNT: 2.5k+ -> CONTAINS: angst, slight swearing, fighting scene (myb?!?), & giyu is 21 while reader is 20. -> A/N: feeling angsty today lol. this oneshot is inspired by the song “Atlantis” by Seafret. u should check it out, it’s a nice song :)). the indented ones are the lyrics of the song btw.

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The birds have left their trees The light pours onto me I can feel you lying there all on your own We got here the hard way

It was winter, and your lover, Giyuu Tomioka has been sent on a mission. You can’t help but want to fix things with him, and bid him a goodbye kiss.

But your stubborn self stopped that from happening. And well, your lover didn’t even bid you a goodbye kiss, he just went off without even looking at you. Guess he is stubborn too.

And then there you are, left all alone in your shared house. It was cruel. You were alone, feeling lonely, and scared that maybe a demon will just barge into your house knowing your demon slayer lover isn’t home now.

You guys have been together for 3 years, and well, you had fights like these, but not like this.

Knowing Giyuu, everytime the both of you had an argument, he’d just stay quiet until you apologized. But knowing your pride, a big one at that, it’d take you a lot of time or days to say it out loud to him. And he’d just be all smiley and accept your forgiveness, then everything will be alright.

Meanwhile with Giyuu, he’s worried about you. Like dead worried.

He wants to tell Oyakata-sama that he’s sick and that he can’t go on the mission, but he knows damn well that’s no excuse. I mean, he is a demon slayer, and while you, you’re just a mere civilian who he happen to lay his eyes on.

But who cares, right? Both of you still love each other and nothing will change that. Not even the fights you both have.

Sure, it was a tough road being each other’s lovers, but for the both of you, it was worth it.

Even though Giyuu’s job was to slay demons, and your job was to plant and pick vegetables and fruits, the both of you still managed your time well and get to enjoy each other in each other’s arms.

But even with those, fights are normal in relationships of course. There are times like these, and there are times that aren’t like this.

All those words that we exchange Is it any wonder things get broke? ‘Cause in my heart and in my head I’ll never take back the things I said

Times like this when the both of you spout useless nonsense at each other to the point where one just wants to end it all.

But the both of you knew damn well that those words hurt each other’s feelings, but you can’t take those words back because the both of you had prides up high.

So high above, I feel it coming down She said, in my heart and in my head Tell me why this has to end Oh, no, oh, no

The relationship you both had to went for hardships because of it is slowly falling down. And neither of you both want to accept that.

But the both of you knew, you knew. You knew loving someone isn’t easy, and obviously letting them go isn’t an easy choice. It never was.

But this just didn’t work out, you know? Introvert and extrovert people could have been a great couple duo. But the both of you? No. It just didn’t. Not for you, not for him.

The fights have been frequent, and you even forget who or what started this fight, and when or how to end it.

That’s why, once he comes back from his mission, you plan to end things with him. You just couldn’t do it anymore. You simply wished for someone to treat you any better than he did, but there was just no ‘someone’ better than him.

But what can you do? Relationships dry out easily if it was in your situation, and you just… had to accept it.

Thinking about the words, the right words to tell him that you want to break up hurts you.

But what hurts you more was the scorching pain in your left hand. It was burning, it was stinging, it was bleeding.

And then you looked to your left, seeing a guy who looked less of a human. It was a demon. And you were screwed.

I can’t save us, my Atlantis, we fall We built this town on shaky ground I can’t save us, my Atlantis, oh, no We built it up to pull it down

You managed to get away from the demon’s grip, and reached for the knife. As you get hold of it, he was no longer in front of you.

He was right behind you now, and you were just thrown on the wall with a full magnificent force that you felt your back break.

Your vision was so blurry, that all you could remember was the demon raising his left fist.

And in that single moment, you couldn’t think of anything, nor do anything. But in that single moment, you wished that you could’ve just let down your pride for once.

You should’ve spent your last moments with Giyuu together, and that you could never end things with him.

You love him too much, that even your last words were ‘I love you’ with the image of Giyuu in your mind, and everything fell black.

Now all the birds have fled The hurt just leaves me scared Losing everything I’ve ever known It’s all become too much

With Giyuu, he finished his mission easily and faster than he thought, so he decided to buy something for you.

In the market, the uneasy feeling never left him. Or so to say, the uneasy feeling just added more weight to his heart. And it wanted him to go home and check on you so bad.

But he wanted to make things right, so he can’t go home empty handed. Not just yet.

~~~~~

It was already evening, and finally, he managed to buy someting. And it was a hairpin. It was colorful. It came with lavender color, followed by black, then sakura flowers.

It was the perfect gift he could give you. Not only that, but it’d match your favorite lavender-colored kimono decorated with sakura flowers too.

And then he knew, it was time to go home.

~~~~~

After minutes of walking, he’s now almost near your home. He should be feeling excited and happy that he’s near, that he could finally see you, hug you, and kiss you.

But no. The more steps he took, the more he felt uneasy. Something didn’t feel right. Something didn’t sit right with the atmosphere.

He’s so filled with these thoughts of you, that tears begin to form on the corner of his eyes, breath starting to get shaky, and speed starting to get faster.

Maybe I’m not built for love If I knew that I could reach you, I would go It’s in my heart and in my head You can’t take back the things you said

Shit, if you were with someone else, would they have done a much more better job at protecting you than him? Maybe, just maybe, if you both didn’t crossed paths, would you have been safe right now? Would you have been safe, in someone else’s arms right now?

Damn it, he should’ve went home earlier. He should’ve spotted this hairpin much earlier, and that he would be home by now.

He would be home, and you would feel safe in his arms.

Sure, you told him mean nonsense, meaningless things when you both fought, but he knew damn well you loved him just as much as he loved you.

He loves you so much, that’s why he’s sprinting towards home now. Towards you.

So high above, I feel it coming down She said, in my heart and in my head Tell me why this has to end Oh, no, oh, no

Now that he’s much near home, he can now see the wooden gates of your shared home, he’s feeling more and more anxious.

What would your reaction be? Would you be happy now, or would you still be mad? Or would you not get the chance to react at all?

She told you the meanest things possible, and yet you’re worried sick about her. Oh, how lucky can she ever be?

He entered towards the gates, and towards your door, he called out to you, he called out your name, but no answer.

Trembling feeling was within him, but he fought it and forced himself to take a peek.

And that’s where it all ended.

The tears that once formed on the corner of his eyes, now took control and fell warmly on his cheeks.

He strode towards you, and looked at your helpless, lifeless self.

He held your body in his arms, and regretted everything. Regretted that he ignored the uneasy feeling shouting at him just from the start, regretted that he didn’t come home early, and regretted that he couldn’t save you.

Yes, you guys had fights, that were almost useless, words that you spouted and yelled at each others faces that hurt, but not even for a single moment, did he not love you.

He could never forgive himself. He had lost everyone dear to him, he couldn’t protect everyone he cared for, and he couldn’t save everyone he loved.

And you were the 3rd one.

And that’s why he could never call himself a hashira. Hashiras are supposed to be the strongest, which means they are capable of saving and protecting those in need.

But he was given 3 chances at that, and yet he still failed the same way.

The people he cared for, Tsutako, Sabito, and Y/n died the same way, for the same reason.

Thinking back of it, he couldn’t feel anything other than shame and grief.

Shame because he’s got the title ‘hashira�� when he doesn’t deserve it. If it wasn’t for Tsutako, he wouldn’t have reached where he is now. If it wasn’t for Sabito, he wouldn’t have survived the final selection. And if it wasn’t for Y/n, he wouldn’t have become someone he is now, someone better than the old him.

All the people he failed to save contributed and played a role where anyone rarely can.

If it wasn’t for you, Y/n L/n, he wouldn’t have become Giyu Tomioka, the water pillar.

Yeah, we build it up and we build it up Yeah, we build it up to pull it down And we build it up and we build it up And we build it up to pull it down

During your first meeting, Giyu was just strolling around the market, unsure of what to do, and yet he happened to lay his eyes on something pretty.

It was a gorgeous woman named Y/n L/n, a normal farmer girl, selling fruits to the market.

But to Giyu Tomioka, she was no normal. She was something out of the extraordinary that he felt he was finally blessed by a sight to see.

He stared at you for way too long, and you had to call out to him when you noticed his eyes lingering on you for that long.

He apologized, but you can’t help but giggle at how cute he sounded, much more at how cute he looked, with his face blusing and sweat dropping.

And that’s where it all started, Giyu Tomioka and Y/n L/n’s love story.

At first, Giyu didn’t know what to tell you or how to respond at every conversation you shot up.

He just nodded, blinked, and stared at you, which you honestly found boring. But either way, you were stuck with him, and he was stuck with you. Meaning, you’re both stuck with each other.

During Giyu’s day offs and yours, you’d both hang out somewhere faraway, and peaceful. And your favorite hangout spot? The ocean.

The waves crashing the rocks was a delight to the ear, and the scene where either the sun rays or the moonlights reflect the ocean, causing it to shine along.

Those moments were the once you and him cherished most. And well, of course you guys hit it off.

You were almost way too perfect for each other, that even though you guys are total opposites, you guys didn’t care.

So, for almost 6 months of courtship, you can’t help but say yes, as every single day, he’d bring a bouquet with different flowers displayed.

But of course, there are downs in a relationship. One where the both of you would think and yell nonsense at each other, and dramatically going up to the point where you want to end things.

Fights with him are unclear. You just can’t understand him, but instead misunderstand him. Fights with him aren’t because of jealousy like any others, but instead because of worry.

Worry that one day, Giyu may not return home and that you’ll only hear the day after that he had passed away because of a demon killing him.

But actually, it was the other way around. It was you who ended up passing away because a demon killed you, and it was him that now is filled with guilt and sorrow.

Giyu can’t forgive himself. He now never could. He ought and swore to protect you, but in the end, he failed miserably, for the 3rd time.

I can’t save us, my Atlantis, we fall We built this town on shaky ground I can’t save us, my Atlantis, oh, no We build it up to pull it down

Giyu held you tightly in his arms, looking back to where everything went wrong.

And looking back to where everything started.

He looked back at the moments you both happily shared together, the moments that still brought smiles on your faces. But now, it was the end of all those moments.

It hurt. There was a stinging pain in his heart that he knows will take even longer to heal. Or perhaps, never.

He can already end his life here and now, to be with you once again. Ever since that day, you became his everything. And now without his everything, he’s nothing.

“Please... don’t go...” Giyu spoke in a raspy voice with sobs. He wished you were still alive and heard him, but no. You weren’t.

It’s cruel. He did not even had the chance to bid you goodbye. He did not even had the chance to tell you he’s sorry and that he loves you.

The ups and downs of your relationships were just obstacles that whoever from above sent down. And the both of you passed those obstacles, with only one man standing.

And within those years, months, and days of being together, there was not a single moment where you both never loved each other.

And now, he regrets that he didn’t apologize for his actions, that he let his pride get the best of him, and that he never get to fix things up.

People always have prides, whether low or high. But those prides are sometimes what gets in the way of two people. You may not realize it yet, but your pride may already have hurt a person. Especially the ones you love.

And that’s where it all ended, Giyu Tomioka and Y/n L/n’s love story.

[ownedbythescribe]

Liyue | Lost In You

ıllı Synopsis: Lost in your eyes, in your voice, and in your touch. Even with a simple turn, these men are captivated. For them, there is only you.

ıllı Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slight Angst-Comfort

ıllı Notes: Gender Neutral Reader

ıllı Warnings: Use of pet names

ıllı A/N: It’s been so long since I wrote, and this is quite short. I hope I still did them justice. Enjoy!

🍁 BAIZHU — LAGENARIA

Winter was quite heavy this year, an unexpected affliction to the season. Liyue was covered in soft blankets of white in the morning with children playing outside much to their content. In the evening, snow would pelt down harshly, barring anyone from exiting their homes to travel or do work. Quite a predicament for adventurers and herb gatherers who longed to travel at night due to their commissions’ specifications or because certain herbs only bloom once the sun sat down. However, it did not deter you or Baizhu from going nonetheless.

With heavy coats and mittens on your person, you three (Changsheng included) ended up stuck in a cave as you wait for the wintry winds to pass. The road outside was impossible to see, and the thick coats could only handle so much. It was wise to let the snowstorm die down first before trotting the route ahead. While waiting, Changsheng and you fell asleep while Baizhu insisted on staying up to read his patient’s prescriptions. A worried look was plastered on your face, but he assured you that doing this relaxed him. Plus, he wished to see your peaceful face which caused your face to erupt in hundred shades of red.

“Seriously… Don’t worry, I’ll just take a short nap then I’ll be in charge after. Good…night.” You yawned, resting your body close to him. The greenhead smiled softly and pulled the blanket over to your neck. Changsheng hissed a goodnight as well before slithering from his left to your side for warmth. Baizhu lightly chuckled before kissing the crown of your head.

“Rest well, Darling.”

Time passed, and by the time you opened your eyes, dawn was just breaking out. Rising from your position, you turned to the man beside you, and it seemed like he must have fallen halfway through his reading. His notebook laid on his chest, and his eyeglasses were still on. You reached out to take it off and place the blanket on his person instead. Changsheng, who was around your neck, nuzzled on your cheeks and looked at her contractor. She snickered at how ridiculous his position was.

“Tssss, this guy. What a stubborn lover you have, (Y/N). Hayst, hmm, could you take me outside, Dear? The sun would feel wonderful on our skin.” The snake asked. You obliged and went out to meet the new day.

The sun had not fully risen, and the wind was biting as ever, but the rays slowly warmed up your and Changsheng’s skins. It was a nice feeling, and the gorgeous view of the mountain caused you to appreciate Liyue even more.

“I wish Baizhu could see this amazing view. Qiqi would have also loved this. Don’t you think so?” You asked your companion.

“Maybe. This view is nothing new to me, but seeing this with a dear friend makes me think this is the first time I’ve seen it. You really have a strange effect on others, (Y/N).” Changsheng replied, slithering around your stomach, causing you to giggle at how ticklish it felt. You two bathed in the sunlight for a long time before a rustle was heard from behind. You turned your head and saw Baizhu stretching, his hair flowing out like rivers. Not to mention, the ray enhanced his beauty.

‘I can’t believe I have such a hot man for my lover! Thank you, gods, for this blessing!’ You giddily thought. Smiling, you reached out to his arm and pulled him to your position to show the view outside.

“A beauty, right? Next time, maybe in spring, let’s come here again!” You grinned. He nodded and tucked a loose hair in your face before turning to stretch around. What he missed was the way your cheeks flushed at that. Changsheng simply snickered before slithering back to Baizhu who remained oblivious to your predicament.

“What a lovestruck fool. Tssss~ But what can I say, they’re a cute couple. Hehe~”

🍁 XIAO — ALATUS NEMEOSES

“Hmm? Qingyun Peak, Mount Aocang, and Huaguang Forest. The last one should be Mount Hulao for Jueyun Karst. After that, I can head to Luhua Pool!” You cheered, seeing that you were still on schedule with collecting regional specialties around Liyue for your journal.

“What are you doing here?” A cool voice from behind asked.

“Holy sh— Xiao!? You scared the Archons out of me. Please make some noise when you appear.” You heaved out a frightened sigh. He merely gave you a blank look before raising his question again. Blinking, you happily told him about the reason you were in Jueyun Karst.

Adepti and gods alike had lived for hundreds and thousands of years. They trudged through several civilizations with the responsibility to guide and lead. As an interstellar adeptus, it was your duty to guide and protect the people of Liyue at night using the wind and moonlight as your medium. Xiao had been your companion throughout those times. As memorable as it was, time progressed, and those little moments soon began to fade like wind brewing against dandelion flowers. You realized that with the ever-changing world, only by seeing through one’s own eyes and carrying pieces of those moments would they be preserved. Needless to say, memories also carried tragedy in their wake. The grief and loss brought by war still laced the mind, but you had already come to terms with them. Albeit not easily as it took centuries to fully move on.

Zhongli did once say that each being we meet along the way will shine like gold in our memories. He was right. Guizhong, Sky Bracer, Marchosius, and other gods lost to time left an impact on your mind.

“That’s why, I hope that with every piece I collect and put in this little scrapbook of mine, I get to remember the past. Oh, here, do you remember this sketch, Xiao? Hehehe~ I remember pestering a human to create this for me in memories of Menogias.” You recalled, softly smiling at the memories of the Geo General elaborating his design. Bosacius and Alatus barely listened while Bonanus and Indarias were busy picking out their favorites.

Just the thought of them squeezed your heart. The sound of their joyful peals of laughter rang in your ears, and tears immediately formed in your eyes. However, before one could fall, a finger gently wiped it away.

“Their dream of living as mortals may have been deserted, but protecting this very land until their very end was their pride and joy. What they shared with us will be our greatest treasure and this present, we should cherish. I hope that brought you a little comfort.” He voiced, lips turning upwards at the thought of his family wishing for them to see the future for what it was worth. The contented look plastered on his face caused you to break into a smile as well.

‘They’re smiling now. What a relief.’ He thought to himself.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew, and the page of the scrapbook turned to another item you forgot you placed there. You gently caressed the item like it was a fragile object, which was definitely how it was considering the passage of time. Gently closing it, you turned to Xiao and pulled him down the mountain.

“I’m going to Mount Hulao to get some Qingxin flowers. Come with me.” You urged, pulling him with a grin. Startled, he let himself be dragged to the said place.

“Hey, slow down!”

“Thank you for everything, Xiao!” You shouted as you two fell. He shook his head at your antics before shifting your positions and carrying you in his arms.

“Reckless as always, but it’s because of that that I adore you.” He whispered in your ear, causing you to flush. Words like that were rarely uttered, and they would always make you feel like crystalflies fluttered inside your stomach.

🍁 ZHONGLI — LAPIS DEI

Night in Liyue Harbor remained bustling with people as the day merchants call out to sell the last of their products. Evening shops began to open and local diners started to become full as customers flood their establishments. On such night, the moon shone brightly on her people.

“All right! One more bottle, Master!” You shouted as you swing the empty bottle in your hand with vigor. Cheeks flushed and mind dazed in alcohol, you did not see a slight disappointment (and amusement) dancing in your companion’s eyes.

“Now, now, (Y/N). You might want to slow down on your alcohol. It’s not wise to get drunk when you’ve barely eaten anything.” Zhongli advised, gently taking the cup from your hands while signaling the master for a cup of water instead. You lightly pouted and told him that you ate a few fried vegetables here and there, but he knew better. The plate of the said dish was barely gobbled.

Laying your head on your right hand, your eyes drifted to the harbor below. Flickering lights danced in your eyes, and watching the people shop around joyfully warmed your heart.

“I’m so happy the people of Liyue are thriving well on their own. The Qixing did a good job leading them toward progress. But… do you regret living your post, dear Morax?” You asked, a lilt in your tone.

The refined man sipped his tea calmly before his piercing eyes reached yours. A small smile made its way to his face, a forlorn one that carried resignation. He replied that his ‘death’ might have been abrupt, ending his reign, but it was for Liyue’s sake. It was important for them to be able to stand on their own feet. After all, life was unpredictable and even a god like him could be slain with the right weapon.

“Hmm. I guess you are right. However, I must say, this is a nice change. No wonder Ping decided to live with the mortals.” You joked, stirring the cup in your hand.

Zhongli grabbed a fried lotus when the waiter came in to give your order which was fried squid. You immediately saw the way he recoiled at the dish making you laugh out loud. Taking your chopsticks out, you grabbed one and savored the taste. The seasonings were just right, and they ensured it did not taste fishy.

“Yum~ You’re missing out on these savories, Dearie. They taste absolutely fantastic.” You teased, but you were met with silence. Zhongli, who had his mouth lightly open, was astounded. The endearment you gave him was a first. Usually, you would not call him anything other than Li, Zhongli, Rex, or Stoney.

Glancing back, your eyes squinted at the flush present on his cheeks. Despite how muddled your mind was, the gears still worked, and a chuckle erupted from your lips.

“Li, Dear. Are you flustered because of that? Hayaa… So cute. Maybe, I should call you that just to get that adorable reaction!” You cheekily voiced, liking the unexpected outcome of your words. Unfortunately, you did not notice the way Zhongli stood up and face you until you felt something warm on your lips and the squid disappearing from your mouth.

“I am right. It still tastes awful as I remember, but it was quite bearable coming from you. Oh, Master, another cup of Jasmine Tea please.” He innocently called to the man of the establishment. It was now your turn to blush at his boldness. Immediately, you covered your face with your arms and even tried to hide it by resting your head above the table.

‘This idiot! That was uncalled for!’

Zhongli noticed it and simply chuckled. You were and would always be adorable in his eyes. He wished the master would hasten his brewing though. The squid was too rubbery for his liking.

Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

[writeandsurvive]

Caught in a Snow Storm ~ Alden Parker 1/2

Summary: After a work road trip, you and Alden have to stop at a hotel cause the roads are being closed and there’s only one room left.

Warnings: one bed, heater goes out, smut, age gap, smoking, handjob, oral (f receiving).

Words count: 5.2k

Author’s note: yes, despite being summer, I’m writing winter fics. I couldn’t shake this idea off my head so I finally wrote it down. Second part coming soon! Special mention to Supernatural in this work because 18 years later, I finally fell into the rabbit hole. I hope you’ll like it! ❤️

None of this was planned. Nothing happened the way it should have. The whole trip was a major waste of time, giving you zero info for your murder case and even less a lead. On top of that, a huge snow storm hit, blocking the roads and you had to stop at the first hotel you found. You usually love the snow, you find it beautiful when it’s all white outside. But this time, it was just the cherry on the cake. “Do you have everything you need for a sleepover?” You did this trip with your team leader, Alden Parker. You didn’t want to go in the first place.

The idea of being stuck in a car for almost three hours with your crush didn’t sound appealing. Not that you mind being with him, you actually love his company, love talking to him about all kinds of things, love his face when he smiles, or how his eyes are soft whenever he looks at you. You love how his mustache is dark while the rest of his beard - and hair - keeps getting whiter. But you still didn’t want to, because of what happened the week before.

Despite being cold outside, the sky was clear blue and the sun was out. You love this exact kind of weather, and ever since you found out about the roof, you enjoy going up for a break, taking some deep breaths, having a smoke and just appreciate the quiet. And that was exactly what you did. Smelling the nice scent coming from the bakery down the street, a cigarette in hand, you relaxed. You even took a couple of pictures of this nice view.

“You know,” you jumped for a second at the sound of his voice straddling you. He chuckled at your reaction. “Ever since I joined, I’ve been wondering where your secret smoking spot is.” He got closer to the ledge, taking in the view. You tried not to stare too much.

“Did you follow me here, Parker?” You puffed on your cigarette.

“Just a little at the time. Nice spot. But the cigarette—“

“I know, I don’t need the lecture. I’m not a heavy smoker, you know.” You stayed a few steps away from him, not wanting to overwhelm him with the bad smell of nicotine.

“Just when you’re overwhelmed or want to relax.”

You didn’t know what to think about the fact that he noticed all of this. And was intrigued enough that he found your secret spot. You felt all giddy, but buried it deep inside you.

“After sex, too.” As soon as it left your lips, you regretted it. Where was this coming from? Technically, it is true, you enjoy a smoke after sex, but it wasn’t something Alden Parker needed to know. You felt so horrified that you stopped looking at the man and just focused on the view and your cigarette that was coming to an end. You would probably need another one. “I shouldn’t have said that.” You managed to say.

“Yeah,” he agreed and you felt even worse. “Look, I’m not going to tell you how bad it is for you, cause I know how annoying that is—I’ve been there.” You looked at him, forgetting your embarrassment for a second. “Just that if and when you decide to try to stop, I’ll be happy to help.”

“H—how did you stop?”

“That’s actually one of the good things that came out of my marriage with Vivian. She really wanted me to stop, so we came to an agreement that everytime I needed to smoke, I’d reach out to her. I’d call if we weren’t together, or just tell her if we were, and she’d do her best to take my mind off it.”

“And it really worked?”

“After a while, yeah. It did. But also because I wanted to stop. If you don’t have that in the first place, no matter what you do, it won’t work.”

“I’ll— think about it. Thank you for offering your help.”

Your cigarette was long gone, and you put the bottom away in a little ashtray you hid.

“We’re a team.” He smiled at you. That damn smile that makes you want to reach for him and kiss him until you can’t breathe.

You went back to the bullpen together. “I do miss a good cigarette after sex though.” He just said before you left the roof.

Maybe you spent the entire week overthinking this. He obviously didn’t mind what you said, but you still felt horrified by it. Why would you say something like that to him? Clearly, he knew what that feeling was like, but it still wasn’t worth mentioning. He did agree when you said you shouldn’t have said it though. Did it make him uncomfortable? He probably doesn’t want to know anything about his coworkers sex life.

Not that you had any lately.

When you finally reached a hotel, you thought it would be it. You couldn’t wait to get into your room, lay down and relax. Probably go back down later to smoke. The ride itself wasn’t bad at all. Alden was his usual self, you two talked about many stuff in the car, some were work related and some weren’t. At some point, it felt like he was trying to know you better than he already did. After all, you’ve been working together for just a year, and it’s not like you two spend a lot of alone time together.

“I’m sorry we’re booked.” The receptionist started to say, and you sighed heavily. “Lots of people decided to stop when they announced the storm coming up. All we have left is a suite.” You and Alden looked at each other.

“It’s either that or the car.” He said.

“Fine. But accounting better not give us hell for that.”

“Is this a work trip?” The lady asked, surprising both of you.

“Yeah, why?” Alden asked.

“Because that suite—only has one bed.”

“Fuck me.” You muttered a bit too loud. But Alden agreed for the room.

“We’re adults.” He said in the elevator. “We’ll build a pillow wall if it makes you feel better.”

“Sure. Adults and pillow walls really fit together.” You rolled your eyes. Alden chuckled.

“Have you ever slept in the same bed as a friend or something?”

“Yeah, of course. But it’s different.”

The elevator’s doors opened and Alden walked out first. “If it really grosses you out to share a bed with me, I’ll sleep on the floor, Y/N.”

You usually love when he says your name, but not this time. You could tell by his tone that you upset him. Hurt him, maybe? But wasn’t it better that he thought something like that than know the truth? That you didn’t want to share a bed because you were scared of what it may do to you. You followed him into the suite. It was very beautiful, spacious, and kinda—romantic. Not helping.

“That’s not what I meant, Alden.” He put his backpack down.

“I saw a little store down the street, I’m gonna go buy a few things.” He walked past you to reach for the door again. “Do you need anything?” He still asked.

“A pack of cigarettes?” You heard his quiet growl.

“I was thinking more like some food? Hygiene products? PJs?”

“Do you really think they are selling PJs in that mini store?”

“I’m hoping. Sleeping on the floor is one thing, but sleeping on the floor in my suit? I’d rather not.”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor.” You told him.

“Are you?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah right.”

You knew he wanted to ask you why it was different with him. Why did you seem so repulsed by the idea of sharing a bed?

“I’ve got everything I need, thanks.”

Alden nodded and left.

This would be alright, yes? It was just one night. The bed was big enough for you two, you wouldn’t need a pillow wall. You just hoped his scent wouldn’t drive you crazy, that his body heat wouldn’t warm your insides.

While Alden was gone, you called McGee to give them updates - not that you had much - and listen to theirs. You exchanged a few theories about the case. And finally told him that you’ve found a hotel to spend the night. “Where’s Parker?”

“He needed a few things for a store downstairs. How are the roads in DC?”

“Not too bad yet, but we’re all heading back home before we have to sleep in the office.”

“Lucky you.”

“Be safe and stay warm.”

“Not too warm though.” You overheard Nick. The team knew about your crush on Alden. They all figured you out little by little.

“Tell him he’s a dead man.”

“She’s going to kill you.” Tim said to Nick, laughing.

“Love you too!” Nick shouted.

You were still working on your computer when Alden came back from his little trip. You immediately noticed the snow all over his dark coat, his hair was wet, and he looked absolutely frozen. “It’s getting bad.” You stood up to take a quick look through the window. Everything was covered in snow and the night was dropping. “The store owner told me that a neighborhood close by lost power. We may be next.”

“Wonderful.”

As Alden took his coat and jacket off, you went to grab a towel from the bathroom and offered it to him. “For your hair.”

“Thank you.” He dried off his hair, and sat on bed to take off his wet socks. He looked at you puzzled when you extended your hand.

“It’s just socks. They need to dry.”

You disappeared in the bathroom to put them on the tower heater, while it still worked. When you came back, Alden was sitting on the bed in his white undershirt, his belt was unbuckled. You forced yourself not to stare. “We can eat downstairs but I don’t feel like moving just yet. You can if you want to be alone.”

“Not hungry for now. You should take a shower while there’s still hot water, that’ll warm you up. I put a towel on the heater.”

You could feel his eyes on you even though you had your back turned to him. “Thank you.” And he was gone to the bathroom.

This was going to be alright.

You took a look in the bags he brought back. Was this considered sneaking? He didn’t say anything about it being private, and you could see a bag of chips on top anyways. And you found mostly snacks, a bag of your favorites. There was your favorite kind of tea, and some coffee powder. And obviously, a box of pastries. You smiled at that. If Alden doesn’t find his way to pastries, pastries will find their way to him.

Then you grabbed the hotel menu, looking at what could interest you. Unlike you told Alden, you were hungry, you just didn’t want to eat alone. And you wanted to make up to him for hurting his feelings earlier.

He came back from the bathroom, wearing some night shorts, his white t-shirt and a black zipper on top. His hair was still a little wet, and messy. You’ve never seen his beautiful hair like this and you loved it even more. Alden looked so casual, and cozy, you realized this was what it’d be like to date the man. This could be one of your daily views, if only— if only.

You were on the bed, scrolling on your phone, your legs under the blanket as it was getting a bit colder. “You should go too.” He told you, and you agreed. Walking past him as he smelled fresh from the shower turned your upside down. You hurried to the bathroom and locked up. A cold shower was more needed than a hot one. You almost gave up to your urges in the shower and touched yourself, but your embarrassment afterwards would be written all over your face, and Alden could read you very easily.

You needed to smoke.

“You were looking at the menu. Do you want to order something?”

“Do you?”

You definitely noticed how Alden looked at you from head to toes, even though there was nothing to see. You were wearing an oversized hoodie that you always have with you during winter, and your work pants. “I don’t have shorts like yours or anything similar.” You answered his silent question.

“Get under the blanket and take them off. I’m staying here for now anyway.”

You did as told, because you honestly wanted those pants off. Alden stayed seated at the little table. “So, food?”

“The grilled cheese sounds good.”

“Drink? I got you some tea for later, but you already saw that.”

It was the first time since you got the room that you and Alden actually looked at each other. You could tell he was teasing you for looking into the bags, so you smiled. “My favorite. Thank you by the way.”

You gave Alden your full order and he called the reception, who informed him about the heating system issue. The room temperature was clearly dropping. You pulled on your sleeves to cover your hands, and put the hood on. “We can get an extra blanket, or hang out around their chimney.”

“I’d rather stay here for now. And get your ass under the blanket too.”

“I’m good.”

“For the love of god, Alden! I’m not grossed out by the idea of sharing a bed with you! Or anything like that for that matter.”

“No, I know. I get it. I’m your team leader, I’m quite older than you. It’s not very comfortable, like sleeping with your weird uncle or something.”

You laughed, but Alden looked serious.

“You’re definitely not the weird uncle.”

“Yeah, tell that to my nieces and nephews.”

“I’d rather trust Eli.” You smiled and he returned it. You and the team learned about Alden’s godson only recently. You’ve met his former FBI partner, Jeremy, who talked about his son Eli, and how much he loved his godfather. You had no doubt believing that Alden was a loving godfather, who took his role very seriously. And you loved that about him. “Get under the blanket, Parker.” You said again, and this time he did. He stayed very much on his side though, a huge gap between your body and his. “Plug your phone before the power goes out.” He said, plugging his own.

As you left the bed to grab your phone charger - and computer - you forgot that you had no pants on. It didn’t even occur to you when you slightly bent over to get it from your bag. It was only when you walked back to the bed, and saw how red Alden’s cheeks were that you realized. You basically jumped under the blanket, mortified. “I’m sorry! I completely forgot—sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He cleared his throat. “No worries.”

“Let’s agree that if either of us does something that makes the other uncomfortable, we can just say it. Yeah?”

“Deal.”

How could you look him in the eyes now?

Both of you on your side of the bed, focusing on your phones, the room became totally quiet. You didn’t know what was more uncomfortable, the fact that you just saw your panties, and that you’re both so ill at ease, you can’t even talk, creating this awful atmosphere.

Finally, your order came in. You obviously decided to eat on the bed, the blanket covering you as much as possible. “I can put up something on my laptop if you want.” You offered.

“Yeah, why not.”

You gave him a few options as he settled the food.

“What’s Supernatural?”

“Seriously? Dean and Sam Winchester, chasing demons and all kinds of creatures?”

“That sounds—“

“Like what we’re watching. Sit.”

And you did just that. Eat dinner in bed, covered by a comfy blanket, watching the first episode of Supernatural… with your team leader. Your crush. The guy who’s much older than you.

You didn’t know who was the most surprised by how Alden got into it. He was asking you a bunch of questions, some that you couldn’t answer without spoiling. “Just because it’s not that bad, doesn’t mean I’ll binge the whole thing. Don’t care about the spoilers.”

“I do. So, if you want to know what killed the boys’ mom, just watch it.”

Alden was leaning against the headboard, an arm behind his head. He looked even more cozy than he did earlier. You could so easily lay down on his chest, and cuddle as you watch the show. “Maybe I should go down and get that extra blanket.” He said at the end of the episode.

“I will go. I’m gonna smoke.”

“I didn’t buy you a pack.”

“Always have a few with me. Do you think you can avoid freezing to death for ten minutes?”

“You’re the one going outside. Wouldn’t you prefer to stay warm here and talk to me?” He offered. How he managed to stop smoking. “We can watch another ep, if you want.”

“You’re hooked.” You grinned.

Alden turned on his side, leaning a little closer to you. “Well it’s always nice to know how to defend myself if I ever encounter a demon.”

“Or a vampire, or a werewolf, or a rougarou.”

“What the hell is a rougarou?” He laughed.

“Binge. The. Show.” At every word, you got closer to Alden. So close your forehead almost brushed his. A little more and you could’ve kissed the man. And it obviously took both of you by surprise.

“I’ll go get the blanket. Be back in a few.” He was gone before you could say anything.

By the time he came back, you had cleared the bed from the plates and food, made sure that there were no crumbs or anything in the sheets, put his water bottle on his nightstand, and waited. The extra blanket looked fluffy and pretty warm, and Alden couldn’t wait to get under. “It’s freezing in those damn hallways.”

You grabbed the blanket from his arms and set it just right on the bed. You took your computer, settling it between your hips and Alden’s, maybe it acted as a barrier. “You’re cold.” You could feel his coldness despite the gap.

“You think?” His vest was close up to the top, and he put his hood on just like you. Without thinking further, you reached out for one of his hands. It was frozen.

“Gimme the other one.” Puzzled, he gave you his hands. You put them in the big pocket of your sweater, and covered them with yours. His hands were much bigger than yours but you didn’t care. You moved your fingers on his skin, putting a bit of pressure to get the blood flooding properly.

“Do you have another pocket for my feet?” He asked as you felt his legs getting closer.

“I swear if you put your cold feet on my legs, I’ll scream.”

In the pocket where the four hands were, you didn’t know who was trying to warm who. They were mixed together, you could feel his fingers moving against your palm and wrist. Alden chuckled, his legs got even closer.

“Parker, I have a gun.”

“So do I. And I’m a better shooter.”

“We’re 1 to 1, so no, you are not.”

You and Alden went to the shooting range a couple of times. It started with a little teasing about your aim after a case, and it turned into a competition. Whoever wins the next round has to invite the other for dinner. His idea.

Did it mean something?

“When this case is over, we’re doing the last round. I can’t wait for my free dinner.”

“Be careful. I could take you to the worst and cheapest restaurant ever.”

“In that case—“

Before you knew it, Alden’s legs were intertwined with yours. His feet were pressed against your calves, and your body got much closer to his. You let out a small scream of surprise before trying to fight him off. But his hands had left your pocket to lock you down. To be honest, with your training, you could get out of his hold but he wanted to play, so you were going to indulge. He was holding you so tight that your hands were stuck in your pocket. You tried to sneak your way out, until you both heard a thump. “Was that my laptop?” You asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“If it’s broken, you’ll explain to accounting why I need a new one.” You lifted your head to look at him. “Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

“Why’s that?”

“According to the rumors, you dated—“

“Come on. Don’t tell me you believe those rumors?”

“Well, they are around your age, some are single. And Kathy is very beautiful.”

You felt his hold loosen a little but honestly, you didn’t want him to let go of you. You wanted to stay there for as long as possible. He smelled so good, his body felt perfect against yours. Being this close to him felt—right.

“Mmm… that’s true, she is. Do you think I have a chance with her?”

You forced yourself to smile. “Of course you do. You’re clever, handsome, sweet, funny, passionate. And you have the best head of hair ever.”

He laughed at that. From where you were, you saw his throat bobbing. His Adam’s apple was so close, all you wanted was to kiss it. His laugh was the best sound you’ve heard, and it was even better when you were the reason he was laughing.

“I figured you loved my hair when a month after I joined the team, you accidentally touched it.”

“It was an accident, Alden! I was reaching for the file and your head was on the way!”

“Sure it was. I have such a big head.”

“Aldeeeen!” You whined and somehow your face buried itself in his neck. “I swear I didn’t—“

“I’m just teasing you.” He chuckled.

Realizing that you were basically cuddling the man, you were ready to move away and get some much needed distance. Especially that Alden’s released the last bit of pressure they had on you. But before you could move even just a little, his arms closed again. This time, he wasn’t locking you down. He was hugging you. Cuddling you.

“We should stay like this if we don’t want to freeze to death. Unless it makes you uncomfortable—“

“I’m good.” You immediately said. You didn’t want to move. Not now, not ever. “You’re lucky your feet are warm now.”

“Thanks to you.”

After a long moment and an internal debat, you moved your arms to hold him back. You felt his body relaxing entirely, and yours did the same. And you stayed like long enough that you both fell asleep.

Three hours later, you woke up. You and Alden were practically in the same position, except that he rolled a bit of his back, and one of his hands was dangerously close to your butt.

Your skin was damped. You were hot and sweating. Pulling the blankets just a little, you realized that the room wasn’t cold anymore. As slowly and quietly as possible, you moved out of Alden’s arms and left the bed. The heater was working very well, your hoodie wasn’t needed anymore so you got rid of it, as well as your socks. You were now in a tank top and panties, but couldn’t bring yourself to care. Especially not after what happened earlier.

You removed the extra blanket as gently as you could so Alden wouldn’t wake up. Then, you crawled back in bed, stared at his beautiful and peaceful face before slowly opening the zipper of his vest. You were halfway through it when his body moved and you felt his eyes on you. “The heating system got fixed. You should take it off.”

“You were doing a great job.” He sleepily said. You opened the vest entirely, and tried to remove it from one of his arms.

“A little help, Alden?”

Half asleep, he sat up and put his arms in the air like a toddler wanting to be undressed. You quietly laughed and undressed him, almost straddling his lap. It surprised you when he got rid of his t-shirt too before laying back down, taking you with him.

Alden was shirtless. You could feel him, you could touch his chest if you were bold enough. You wanted to turn on the lights and see his body, admire it, imprint in your brain forever. You were about to relax and just enjoy this moment, but it was when he let go of you and practically turned on the other side. “Oh” left your lips as it surprised you, confused you and kinda hurt you.

“Male body reaction.” You heard him say. “It’s better I stay on my side.”

It took you a couple of seconds to understand. “What if I don’t want you to stay on your side?” You whispered and moved closer. You didn’t know what had gotten into you at this moment. Maybe you were going to die of embarrassment, maybe you’d have to quit your job in the morning. Or maybe—

You were now spooning Alden. “Remember our agreement? If one of us does something that makes the other un—“

“Yeah.” He cut you off.

Slowly, you ran your hand from bare back to his chest. He started to breathe heavily. You loved the hair that was there. You touched his pecs, his tummy, making him growl, and reached the waistband of his shorts. You softly kissed his shoulder and Alden melted. His hand went up and down your forearm that was around him. “I need you to agree to this, Alden.” You whispered into his ear, “Don’t want to take advantage of sleepy you.” You planted a kiss under his ear.

“I’m very much awake, sweetheart.” His head leaned back into you. “You can do anything to me.”

When was the last time someone took care of this man?

Your hand finally got into his shorts. You had barely touched his length that he moaned. When your hand wrapped around his cock, you didn’t expect it to be this thick. You got even wetter than you already were. You collected his pre cum on the tip, and used it to start stroking. “Fuck!” He growled deeply. He completely leaned into you, his hand reaching for your hair, neck, face. He was needy and you loved it. You freed his cock from the shorts and stroked him slowly, putting just enough pressure. You kissed his cheek, nipped his ear. You were able to move your other arm under his head, which allowed him to touch his chest. Between the noises he was making, you could tell he wanted to talk, he wanted to say something but everything died on his tongue. “Kiss me.” Was all he could say as he turned his face and you did. All teeth and tongue, all needy and desperate. Alden was now on his back, his hips moving. You weren’t sure if you were giving him a handjob or if he was fucking your hand. That you cared.

“I’m gonna—“ he choked and growled.

You kissed his cheek and whispered to his ear again. “Cum for me, Alden. I’ve got you.” A few more sloppy strokes and he was coming all over his stomach, your name dying on his lips along curse words, his fist holding onto your hair for dear life - it stung a little but you loved it.

You watched him coming down from his high, playing with his hair. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he was catching his breath. The post orgasm bliss on his face. You kissed his cheek, “I’ll go get a towel.”

When you came back, Alden had turned the nightstand light on, and he looked absolutely perfect. Naked, satisfied, relaxed… the best version of Alden Parker you’ve ever seen until now.

He tried to reach for the towel but you slapped his hand away, and cleaned the sticky mess on his stomach. As soon as you were done, Alden grabbed you and pinned you on the bed, his body covering yours. “I think we can say that our platonic work relationship is ruined.” His eyes moved from your eyes to your lips.

“How terrible.” You grinned and he kissed you. You’ve been in control so far, but you knew at this moment that he was taking over.

“I’m not sure how I got you to be interested in me, but I’ll take it.” He lifted your tank top a little and went down to kiss your stomach.

“You’re the only one who didn’t know I’ve had a crush on you for months.” Your body shivered under his touch.

“I may have noticed a few things—“ he took your top off of you and admired your breasts before touching them, kissing them, playing with your nipples. “But it seemed impossible.” He kept touching your tits as he got back up to kiss you. You buried your hands in his hair, and wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Why? Because you’re older?”

“For starters.” He kissed you one more time before getting on his knees. He slowly took off your panties while staring deep in your eyes.

“I don’t give a fuck about your age.” He looked at your panties, smelled them before throwing them away. You practically moaned at his actions.

“You should, babydoll.”

He settled between your legs, kissed your inner thigh, bit a little, and gently touched your pussy, looking at it so hungrily.

“Well if you don’t fuck me properly, I just might.” You teased, trying not to lose your mind over having him down there.

“As much as I want to, I’m not going to fuck you tonight, unless you got a condom hidden in your bag.”

“For fuck sakes!” You shouted.

“Sorry, doll. But I’m going to make you cum.”

And he finally dived in. He inhaled your scent deeply, before putting his month where you needed him the most. Alden knew what to do, when to do it. He ate you like a starving man. Making you moan loudly. You felt his index finger penetrating you, and another finger as his month kept playing with your clit. It didn’t take long before that amazing and familiar feeling appeared. One of your hands was in his hair, while he was holding the other with his free hand. Your legs around his neck could’ve suffocated him but you didn’t care and neither did he.

“I want to taste all of you, doll. Cum with my mouth.” He encouraged you. “I’ve got you.” He repeated your words. And you didn’t need more.

After cleaning you with the towel, Alden held you as you were catching your breath. Kissing your hair, he gently stroked your back. You both enjoyed this moment, this position, this tenderness. You didn’t know what tomorrow would be like, or even what this all meant.

Neither of you dared to ask.

[kyleraynermybeloved]

One Of A Kind -Chapter Two

Pairing: Kyle Rayner x Batsis!Reader

Summary: A surprise is discovered. Is it terrifying? Absolutely!

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, mentions of morning sickness, pregnancy, canon-level violence, my bad writing

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I'm very late but HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!! Its FINALLY here, and guess who has covid! Sorry it took ages to arrive. If the pacing feels a bit off it's bc I wrote this a little drunk a while ago. (I did end up misplacing it and i finally found it so no proof read, we die like heroes) I hope yall enjoy this, if not then I'm sorry :/ ALSO, this is going to be the last short chapter of the series so expect the others to be a little longer from now on!

OOAK Masterlist

The overwhelming nausea woke you up, and you barely made it to the toilet before the contents of your stomach emptied out. You heaved some more, your body shaking from the force after each one. The bile in your mouth was enough to make you wince and spit into the toilet hoping to get rid of the taste.

Groaning, you set your head against the cold seat as the dizziness subsided a little. It was just the wake up call you needed before heading back to work. It seems the few days you had off were too short of time to readjust to your normal routine. You might as well get ready now that you’re up.

You were too busy leaving in a hurry to say bye to Billy once you checked the time, effectively running late. Hopefully you'd have time to check in with him later to see if he was faring the same. You had felt sick the entire time getting ready upon arriving on base, your stomach churning uncomfortably with unease. It might have been the food and drinks from last night or the winter air doing a number on you. For now, you shrugged it off to the best of your abilities.

There were plenty of other agents walking around when you arrived at the tarmac. A few faces you haven’t seen before looked towards you as you made your way to the chopper Sormael had instructed you to from this morning's message. They might’ve been the new hires you heard about coming in the other day. Deciding to put on a friendly face, you smiled and waved towards them as you continued walking.

“Thrasher! About time you made it, what happened to always being on time?” Sormael engulfed you in a hug, giving a firm little shake before breaking away.

“Sorry, sir. I wasn’t feeling all too well this morning and that seemed to cut into my arrival time. Won’t happen again, unless the husband has a say in it.”

“They do love to make things a little more interesting don’t you think? Are you feeling better, or do I need you to sit this one out? I have Zeru on standby seven klicks out from the target site.”

“Negative, sir. I’m much better now, only needed some fresh air and to see your wonderful face,” You bumped his shoulder against yours, sending him a lopsided grin. A gesture you’ve done countless times to let him know you were fine.

There was no chance in hell you would let Zeru, a colleague you’ve been competing against, take this job just because you felt a little sick. The two of you had an ongoing bet to see who could get more jobs done in the span of eight months, the loser had to buy the winner dinner for three weeks. And the eighth month was now coming to a close, you had one job on him but it was only a matter of time before he caught up.

“Alright, well, here’s everything you need to know,”  Sormael handed you a folder that was banded shut. “It’s a covert mission, a simple extraction job. Retrieve the data and get to the rendezvous point for further instructions. Like usual, you’ll have a ride there but you’ll need to find a way back to ensure no one can link you back here. Stay safe, the roads are freezing over. Do whatever you need to get back to us.”

“Always am.” Nodding your head in affirmation you turn to the awaiting helicopter. The snowfall began to pick up causing you to pull your coat closer to fight against the bitter cold. Harsh snowflakes pelted against your face once you got to the aircraft door. The aircraft shielded you from the oncoming storm once you got inside, sliding the door shut and getting situated in your seat.

“Morning, Agent Thrasher. Our eta is four hours, I would catch more sleep if I were you.” The pilot you recognized from previous assignments spoke through the headset. Giving him a half-assed response you went to look at the contents of the folder.

It was a fairly light folder, flipping through the papers and memorizing everything  given. Information on the building’s layout and number of personale working. Only select people had access to the server room which was located on the fifth floor, third room on the right. Attached to the last page was a small flash drive still wrapped in the package.

The nausea had finally settled down, giving you a break for the time being. But you had a sneaking suspicion that it would come back. If that was the case you'd have to make this quick.

You sent Kyle a brief text, letting him know of your whereabouts for the next few hours and decided against telling him of your sickness from the morning.

The sun had peaked through the clouds once you were high enough in airspace, warming you up from the chilly temperature. It was odd that you were cold for this long, your body had gotten used to adapting to the different temperatures over the years of constant traveling in different climates. Pulling your thick coat impossibly closer you thought it best to reserve your energy and get some sleep while you still had time.

*****

You had everything under control, the mission was going smoothly. Entering the building and getting into the server room had gone seamlessly. The flash drive had all the needed information and the only thing left was your escape.

The earpiece you had in your ear was patched into a secure channel only the rendezvous team had access to. It was silent for now.

Normally, you would have to reach out first once in range of any rendezvous point or an appointed team member would reach out if you’ve been dark for too long.

You had carefully tucked the flash drive into a secure pocket, adjusting to make sure it was unnoticeable. The uniform you had acquired once getting into the lobby at the beginning of the mission had been doing its job perfectly as a disguise. No one was the wiser when you had gone in and when exiting the server room, the door locked after shutting closed.

Keeping your head down you walked through the hallway successfully keeping attention off of you. Turning around the corner to the stairwell, you quickly descended down the flight of stairs only passing by two people as they left through the door you just went through.

After reaching the second level another wave of nausea washed over you making you unsteady. Not again, you could only do so much while your whole world was spinning. The stale air wasn’t helping at all either. It made everything feel more restricted and claustrophobic.

You carefully walked down the remaining steps to the floor level, supporting most of your weight on the railing and wall so as to not stumble down. The more you had turned the corners of the staircase the harder it got to keep your composure. There was only one more turn before the ground floor, deciding it would be best to take a breather once you were far enough away from the building, you pushed on. Finally leaving the stairwell and taking the closest exit towards you welcomed the fresh winter air, inhaling deep breaths as it helped ease the bile that was threatening to come up long enough to make it past the parking lot to a lone car where you had stashed your things.

You shed the uniform changing into the spare outfit you had packed in the warmth of the car. Digging through your bag you found something to ease the nausea for the time being until you could take something once you got home. For now, you just hoped it would work.

Little flecks of snow slowly drifted down, dark clouds were filling up the bright sky. You drove until you were three miles out from the rendezvous point, hidden well enough to not stick out to oncomers, after concealing the car  and wiping it down of any prints left you grabbed your bag and walked the remaining way there.

As soon as you made it inside the hidden cabin and debriefed with the team after handing over the flash drive, you threw a few more logs into the dwindling flames of the fireplace to heat the small cabin up.

Your hands felt like icicles and your legs had gone numb a mile into the journey. The layers you’d put on did very little to help maintain heat.

The team informed you before they departed that the cabin was yours for the time being, well at least until after you leave before the cleaning crew arrives.

Knowing you had enough time to shower and change into more comfortable clothing made you physically relax, letting out a content sigh.

Thinking now was a good enough time to check your phone, possibly give Billy a call. If he was fairing as badly as you were then you definitely needed to apologize for possibly getting him sick.

“Billy speaking, what’s up?” He answered on the second ring, judging from the noise in the background he must’ve been home.

“Hey kid, glad I managed to reach you. Sounds like you’re home, did you make it back safely and in one piece?” Shifting the phone to hold it with your shoulder, you were able to take out an outfit and some essentials into the bathroom.

“Oh, yeah I made it back just a little after you left. I was gonna say something but you left in a hurry and I didn’t want to keep you back any later than you had to.” That seemed about right. Both you and Kyle had told him on many occasions that he didn’t need to keep things to himself, whatever it was that he needed the both of you would pause what you were doing and give him your undivided attention.

“No worries, next time go ahead and ask me to stay back a little. Speaking of which, I wanted to ask how you’re feeling? I’m feeling a little under the weather, it might’ve been the food from last night.”

“You know how I get, I just didn’t want to bother you too much. And I feel fine, if you want we can head over and bring you some soup or something?” There was a muffled sound on the line before he spoke up again. “Hey, I got to go. Keep me updated though, I think we’ll head over later today, if not tomorrow. See you later.”

“Will do, see you later kid.”

Well that was interesting. What else could be making you sick if not the food? At least he wasn’t under the weather, that made you feel better knowing you didn’t get him sick as well.

A ding from your phone pulled you out from your thoughts. It was a message from Kyle saying he was back on Earth. You sent a reply of your location and asked if he could bring a thermometer and cold medicine before hopping into the shower.

The water pressure wasn’t great but it also wasn’t the worst you had. It came out in soft bursts, fortunately the shower head was large so it covered more than a small area. The water did wonders for your aching muscles, which had been unusually sore and stiff for the past few weeks. You knew it couldn’t have been from either of the previous assignments you were on. Or for this one as a matter of fact.

At some point you must’ve dozed off, still on your feet. Deciding it was better to get out and get some actual rest without any incoming injuries, you turned off the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel. Kyle would be on his way soon, in the meantime you could busy yourself getting ready and warming up on the couch in front of the fireplace.

By the time Kyle came around you were passed out.

“Hey sleepy, I wasn’t sure what to get so I bought whatever I could find. I also brought some soup from your favorite place, it should still be hot.” Kyle helped ease you up to sit on the couch, you must’ve laid d0wn while you were sleeping. 

“Oh, hi,” you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes with a smile. “How long have you been here?”

He put a hand to your forehead, “Long enough to know you were tossing and turning for a while. On the bright side you don’t have a temperature but better safe than sorry, take this.” He handed you a water bottle and two tylenol from one of the two bags he had, which you gladly accepted and took.

Once you finished your water Kyle traded it for a container of soup. It was still hot enough to warm you up. He plopped down next to you with his own food, digging in once he knew you could eat fully on your own.

“Thank you, I think the soup is helping me some. How are the fellas doing? Causing more chaos for the team I assume?”

“Oh you know it, nothing but the best from Guy. I also may have enabled him… just a little bit.” his smile had a hint of mischief with the knowing look he gave you.

“Of course, babe,” you nudged him with your shoulder, “ ‘Just a little bit’ my ass. You totally orchestrated whatever it was. I feel bad for the poor soul who was on the receiving end of you two maniacs.”

He threw his head back in a laugh. “You know me so well. It wasn’t too bad this time, I swear. Oh, I forgot. Before I left you said you had something you wanted to tell me?”

Ah, you had completely forgotten about that. You tried racking your brain for the right words to explain this best. After five years together it was kind of hard to just come out and say you had been lying to him all that time about yourself. Well, in a way you weren’t lying, just always avoiding mentoning your past and family.

“Uhm,” your hands clasped together in your lap as you leaned forward, “You know how I aoid talking about my past with you or brush it off when you ask me about it?”

He put his food down to give you his full attention, motioning for you to continue once he sat back, grabbing one of your hands in reassurance.

“Gosh this is hard, uhm. I want you to know that I didnt tell you because I don’t trust you, more because I was scared to tell you. I guess the best way is to rip the bandaid off. But more or less I was… Batman’s daughter, this was years ago of course. I don’t actually know if he told anyone in the league about me since I wasn’t one of the many side-kicks.”

“I think I remember Alfred having some photos of when you were young laying around the mansion when I lived there for a bit, I asked them about it but no one really said anything. Figured it was a sore subject. Im going to be honest, I’m a little hurt that you didn’t tell me sooner but I understand having moments of the past haunting you.”

“There’s more I would like to tell you,” I pulled him towards me more, “But I’d rather tell you once we get home. How about we head over once we’re done eating?”

“No problem, eat as much as you can and we'll take the leftovers with us.” Kyle grabbed his container and gestured at you to eat with a forkful halfway to his mouth.

*****

It had been two weeks later when you decided to see your agency’s doctor to check out your recent sickness. You had been expecting a stomach bug, or the flu, the last thing you expected was finding out you were ten weeks pregnant. Ten weeks. Kyle, who went with you almost and passed out from the news, was still taking his time processing everything you told him, rightfully so. The two of you were sent home with congratulations and several pictures of your growing bean. It had felt too surreal, and overwhelming.

All that happened three days ago, now you and Kyle were just entering your apartment after buying some pregnancy essentials for you when a noise from the kitchen alerted you of an intruder. You reached for your sheathed knives, usually strapped to your thighs, out of reflex before Kyle stopped you, rushing forward with the bat you normally kept by the front door.

“Fuck man, I could killed you!” Kyle’s alarmed voice steadied your racing heart after realizing it was someone he knew. You slowly made your way to the kitchen, their muffled voices getting clear the further you walked down te hallway. One being Kyle’s and the other you now recognized to be Guy Gardner, who you haven’t actually met but have seen through videos either of your boys have shown you.

“You’re brave for knocking up Batman’s long lost daughter,” Guy pointed to the ultrasound photo pinned on the fridge. “I don’t envy you one bit man. And you must be the lovely wife. Guy Gardner, great to finally meet the mysterious lady Rayner’s been hiding from me.”

“How’d you know we’re married?” Kyle looked alarmed and confused.

“Well, you do have your wedding pictures laying ‘round the place.” He pointed out to the living room where the photos had been conveniently placed on the coffee table.

With a sigh and shake of your head, you held out your hand to Guy. “Y/N Rayner, pleased to finally meet this doofus’ best friend he speaks highly of.”

Taglist:

@esposadomd

[shadowtriovibes]

break a sweat: prologue

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Chapter Rating: G [Fic Rating: E]

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Sebastian Sallow was seven years old the first time he rode a broom.

i'm officially launching my rewrite of the "break a sweat" series as a multichapter fic! please enjoy this new prologue, which sees sebastian receive his first broom.

AO3 permalink: break a sweat

November 7, 1881

Sebastian Sallow was seven years old the first time he rode a broom.

He awoke on the morning of his birthday as he did most days, tucked inside the cozy warmth of the Sallow family’s coastal cottage.

November had arrived in the Highlands, which surely meant that winter was just around the corner. But that morning, the sun shone brightly over the rocky shoreline and the powerful gusts of wind with which Sebastian had become intimately familiar seemed to be holding themselves back.

It was almost as if the wind itself knew that this day was special – that one young boy would soon be meeting one of the greatest loves of his life: flight.

—

Albert and Margeret Sallow had left London with their young children in 1877. The family settled near the Firth of Forth in Ivanbreck, a small wizarding hamlet just outside the Muggle town of Gullane and not more than thirty kilometers from Edinburgh.

Four years later, the children had grown into curious, restless young things whose minds seemed to wander past the walls of their family home and out across the hills and valleys that lined the winding road toward Hogwarts.

Still without their own magic, the twins spent most of their days at their mother’s knee reading books well beyond their years about the study of magic. Sebastian and Anne were both desperate to start school, much to their parents’ bittersweet delight.

When Sebastian blinked awake the morning of this seventh birthday, the first thing he thought to himself was Only four more birthdays until Hogwarts.

Sebastian and Anne tumbled downstairs like a pair of drunken nifflers, slipping and sliding in their thick woolen socks toward the kitchen, where the smell of rich breakfast foods called them in like a siren’s song.

“Mummy!” Anne called out happily, skidding into her mother’s open arms. “It’s our birthday!”

Sebastian nearly collided with the dining table, only to be spared when his father snagged him by the sleeve of his pajamas and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Happy birthday, son,” Albert murmured into his sleep-mussed hair.

Then his mother hugged him as well, pressing seven kisses to each of Sebastian’s cheeks while he giggled delightedly.

“You two are getting so big,” Margeret crooned. “Seven years old, I can hardly believe it!”

“Go on, Maggie, let the boy breathe,” Albert laughed.

His mother had prepared a special breakfast with all the family’s favorites: thick-sliced bacon, oat porridge, juicy sausages, toasted oat bread, and, perhaps most importantly to Sebastian, a basket full of warm tattie scones.

“Make sure you have plenty to eat,” Albert said, winking across the table at his wife. “You’ll be needing your energy this afternoon.”

Sebastian squirmed with excitement throughout the meal as he wondered what his parents had in store for him and his sister. Birthdays were sacred to the Sallow family, and he’d never had one that was anything less than spectacular. (Of course, he could only remember a handful of birthdays at such a tender age).

Would they be going into the city to see the Muggle museum? Or perhaps Diagon Alley to get some new books… Maybe, he thought, just maybe they’ll get to see Hogwarts.

But instead of instructing the twins to get dressed and put on their traveling cloaks, Albert and Margeret simply took their children’s hands and guided them to the sitting room.

Resting on the low table by the fireplace were two long, thin packages wrapped in brown parcel paper and tied up with string. Each package had a small tag hanging from the narrower end: one marked with an S and the other with an A.

Sebastian felt his fingertips start to tingle as he tiptoed toward the table. Is this magic? he wondered to himself. Is it happening now?

“Go on, sweetheart,” Margeret whispered to Anne, who clung tightly to her skirts. “That one’s for you, do you see the ‘A’ on it?”

While Anne gingerly untied the wrapping strings and rolled back the paper, Sebastian eagerly tore into his gift with no thought of preserving its wrappings.

Inside was a riding broom. Shorter than a standard model from the sporting goods shop on the high street, this broom was evidently made for children who had yet to receive their magic. It had shiny metal footrests at the bottom and handles at the top with leather grips. Etched into the top of the broom handle were the words Oakshaft ‘81 – Junior.

Sebastian’s fingers trembled as he stroked his fingers down the length of the polished handle. He could have sworn he saw a handful of sparks flicker from his hands as he lifted the broom, but as soon as he noticed them they dissipated into thin air.

“What do you think, my boy?” Albert asked him proudly.

Sebastian hardly knew what to think. Brooms like this didn’t come cheap, much less two. His parents had always seemed comfortable as young professors, studying magical theory and offering instruction to a handful of local wizarding families with homeschooled children. But a gift like this…

“Thank you,” Sebastian whispered, blinking back tears. “I love it, thank you.”

With a proud smile, Albert scooped up a teary-eyed Anne and asked, “What do you think? Should we take them out for a spin?”

The rest of the afternoon, Margeret watched from the ground with a book in her lap, watching with equal parts maternal joy and anxious fear as Albert circled the twins on his dependable Smethwyck Spinner from the 1870s. To begin, he taught Sebastian and Anne how to kick off from the ground and ascend into the air.

“That’s it!” Albert roared as Sebastian floated fifty feet into the air and spun in a wobbly circle. “Excellent work, Sebastian!”

Anne took a bit more coaching to eventually lift her feet off the ground, but by the time she was giggling nervously and taking slow laps around the cottage, Sebastian had discovered the aerodynamics of forward flight.

“Not too fast, darling!” Margeret called out from below. “Oh, please do be careful…”

Sebastian didn’t touch the ground again for hours. By the time he eventually landed, panting and windswept and deliriously happy, it was nearly time for dinner.

“I take it you like your gift, hmm?” Albert asked with a knowing grin as he helped Sebastian store his broom in the small shed behind the house.

“I love it!” Sebastian exclaimed. “I’m gonna fly every day, and I’m going to be so good – maybe I’ll even play Quidditch!”

“Maybe you will,” Albert said indulgently.

“Dad, did you play Quidditch while you were in school?” he asked curiously.

Albert shook his head. “No, I wasn’t very good back then. I suppose I’m a fair flyer now, but the rest of it – the athleticism – that wasn’t for me. Nearly always had my nose buried in a book back then.”

“You still do!” Sebastian pointed out, and Albert laughed, tossing his head back.

“Aye, I do,” he agreed. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I suppose. But if Quidditch makes you happy, you ought to go after it. There are plenty of things you can’t learn in books, after all.”

—

Sebastian and Anne were orphaned in the spring of 1882. In the end, Sebastian learned that perhaps there was a downside to having your nose buried in a book all day.

Feldcroft was a smaller hamlet than Ivanbreck. Uncle Solomon was less patient than Albert and Margeret, and he hardly had any books in his rather unadorned cottage.

…Sebastian didn’t want to be a professor anymore.

But he still had his broom.

By the time his eighth birthday arrived, Sebastian had already decided that he’d do whatever it took to be the best damn Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen.

[elisysd]

Ho Hey - The Lumineers

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

I belong with you, you belong with me You're my sweetheart

Weeks went by and Lyanna could see Charles making fast progress. It wasn't long before he was fully able to move again, and even the doctors were impressed by his recovery. Towards the end of November, as she was cutting up a butternut squash to make soup, a half-smiling Charles burst into the kitchen, coming back from his last weekly medical appointment.

“Lyanna… baby, guess what?”

“I don’t know but it must be good since you are smiling like that.”

He took the keys to his Pista out of his pocket and waved them in front of his girlfriend.

“The doctor told me that I could drive again!”

In surprise, Lyanna almost cut herself. She put the knife to the side and looked up at Charles with wide, joy-filled eyes.

“That’s amazing news, Charles! I’m so happy for you!” she said as she almost jumped on him.

“Careful, I still have to take things easy.”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just that I know how much you missed driving. Did he tell you anything about racing in F1?”

“He said that it’s something that I must see with our medical team at Ferrari but to him, it should not be a problem. I’m going to finally be able to work on my simulator. It was collecting dust; I can’t wait to use it again. So this was the big news. On the way home I thought about something and I would like to have your honest opinion on it.”

“Shoot.”

“I was thinking that since I missed driving, I don’t have to be to the factory because technically winter break is about to beginning, you’ve been playing nurse with me for the past three weeks and you haven’t seen your family in a while… I was wondering if you wanted to visit them? It would be a nice and long road trip. Perfect for me to get back to driving in a really relaxing way.”

“Charles Leclerc, are you asking to meet my family?”

Charles shrugged and tried to pretend that it was just an idle idea and not something he'd been thinking about for days. He really wanted to meet Lyanna's family. It was one more step in their relationship but he was ready and he hoped Lyanna was too.

The young woman thought she detected a flicker of doubt in her boyfriend's eyes. She moved closer to him and put her arms around his neck before sealing her lips with his. Charles grabbed her around the waist and lifted her onto the counter. He pulled away from her and rested his forehead against hers, playing with the knots of the apron the actress was wearing.

“I have to call my mom to see when she would like us to come.”

“So it’s a yes?”

She nodded as she put her hand against Charles's cheek and kissed him again. Now she had to find a way to tell her mother that she was coming to visit and that Charles would be with her.

A few days later, the couple were ready for the trip. Charles was trying to wedge their bags as best he could into the trunk of his Pista, while Lyanna was on the phone to her mother.

“I’m telling you mom, if it’s too much for you, Charles and I can always go to the hotel.”

“No, darling, it’s fine. I just want the house to be clean and perfect. I still have to go grocery shopping. Is he allergic to anything? Does he have to follow a special diet?”

Lyanna rolled her eyes. She knew that coming with Charles would be stressful for her mom. She always had a hard time mingling with people that had a superior lifestyle to her own, being ashamed of being a single mother from the working class. Her mom was not a jealous person, she had just developed a strong inferiority complex. So meeting Charles who was a millionaire was a tough experience for her mom. She was scared he would judge her, something that Lyanna found really stupid. But she was her mom and she could not change her.

“All good. We are ready to go, love!” exclaimed Charles as he closed the trunk.

“I have to go mom, see you tonight.”

“Be careful on the road, okay. Remind Charles that the motorway is not a F1 track.”

“Don’t worry mom, I’m safe with him. The only thing you should be scared of is his capacity to not park right.”

Lyanna had deliberately said the words a little louder as Charles walked past her. He shook his head and stuck his tongue out at Lyanna, who responded by doing the same. She finally hung up before getting into the car and fastening her seatbelt. She looked at Charles, who looked like a child on Christmas Eve. He was happy to be behind the wheel at last. A painkiller for Charles before setting off, and they were on their way. To get to Lyanna's family, they had to travel for almost seven hours. Lyanna had therefore prepared a long playlist of her and Charles's favourite music, as well as snacks, although they had planned to stop off at a restaurant to eat along the way.

The journey was punctuated by laughter and singing off keys to their favourite songs. Even if the grey and cold November weather was not ideal for driving, the young couple managed to make the trip a moment of complicity. They ended up stopping several hours later at a restaurant on the border between Switzerland and France. From what Lyanna could see, it looked like a farmhouse inn. She glanced at Charles, trying to find out implicitly whether he was tempted by the restaurant or would prefer to stop elsewhere.

Charles parked the Pista and they headed for the entrance. It was a warm, friendly place with panelled walls et checkered patterns on the chairs. The waitress took them to a small table with a magnificent view of a lake. It must have been a beautiful place in midsummer, with the sun shining, Lyanna thought to herself. They were served quickly, the restaurant having very few customers, and out of the corner of her eye Lyanna noticed a little blonde girl who couldn't have been more than four years old, watching Charles attentively with big blue eyes.

“I think you have a fan…” whispered Lyanna to Charles.

He questioned her, and Lyanna beckoned him to look to her right. The little girl saw that Charles had noticed her and hid in the arms of her father, who was too busy chatting to what Lyanna assumed was his wife to notice his daughter's little antics.

Charles smiled broadly and waved at the child, who tugged at his father's sleeve to get his attention. He leaned over to his daughter and whispered a few words in her ear. He then looked away to concentrate on Charles. Then he gave the child a gentle push in the direction of the pilot. The little girl approached shyly, twisting her fine hair around her fingers.

“Hello, little one.” Said Charles as he stood up and immediately crouched to the kid’s height.

“Hello, mister. I like your hair. They are pretty.”

“Thank you?” chuckled Charles not expecting it. “And I like your dress. What is your name, beautiful?”

“Lizzy. And you?”

“I’m Charles, and this is Lya.”

Lyanna waved at the little girl.

“Is she your wife?” asked Lizzy.

Charles was taken aback by the question and stuttered, at a loss for an answer. As for Lyanna, she could feel the blood rushing to her face and burning her cheeks.

“Uh, well… no. She is just my girlfriend. But maybe one day, she will be my wife. I don’t know.”

“She is pretty.” Complimented Lizzy while looking at Lyanna.

“That, she is. And what are you doing here, Lizzy?”

“I’m bored. My daddy and my mummy are ignoring me. I’m feeling lonely. Do you want to play with me? I have a colouring book but I can't colour without crossing the lines.”

Charles looked at Lyanna to see if she minded. She indicated that it was okay with her and Charles nodded in Lizzy's direction as she hurried off to get her pencils and colouring book.

“I think someone has a little crush.” Teased Lyanna as Charles shrugged.

Lizzy came back quickly and put her things on the table, then came and sat on Charles's lap. Lyanna watched them in silence as Charles gave Lizzy instructions and advice as best he could, making her laugh as he bounced her on his knee.

Deeply moved by the scene, Lyanna discreetly took out her phone and snapped a few photos, which she sent to Pascale. The young woman began to think that Charles really was very good with children and would probably make a good father one day. The thought gave her a warm feeling in her lower belly.

“I’m sorry about Elisabeth. She has the habit to annoy people.” Lizzie’s father came to them with his wife behind him.

“She did not annoy us at all!” defended Charles “You have a really sweet daughter.”

“Oh thank you. And you guys make a beautiful couple.” Added the mother.

They said a quick goodbye and Lizzie put her little arms around Charles to give him a hug before kissing Lyanna's cheek and following her parents.

“Well, that was cute.” Lyanna said as they were leaving soon after the restaurant and as they set off again.

“Definitely. I know it’s early in the relationship to have this kind of discussion but, do you want kids? Because I want some…” asked her Charles which took Lyanna by surprise. She had never really thought about it.

“Um, I don’t know… I mean. I love kids but do I want some? I…guess? At some point? Not tomorrow that’s for sure but in a few years, maybe.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m not saying that I want to be a dad tomorrow. I would like to win a championship before.”

“How many would you like?” asked Lyanna. She liked to see his face lighting up when he talked about having a family.

“Three! It’s the perfect number. Ideally, two boys and a girl. That would be the ultimate goal.”

“I think two for me is enough… I don’t know how I could manage three. And you do know that you can’t chose the gender, right?”

“I know, it’s just… in a perfect world, I have a world champion title with Ferrari, three amazing kids, an amazing wife and a house with a big garden in the heights of Monaco. What does your perfect world look like?”

Lyanna looked out of the window; she had never given it much serious thought. She lived from day to day without trying to project herself. She closed her eyes for a moment and let her mind wander.

“A house, not too big and not too small. A cozy atmosphere. I would love a big fireplace for when it’s cold during winter. And… you. I’m going to sound cheesy as fuck, but honestly my definition of perfect world is wherever you are.

Charles looked at her with a smile and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. He then intertwined his fingers with hers and spent the rest of the journey like this.

It was late when they arrived outside Lyanna's mother's house. The neighbourhood was quiet and Charles was able to park his Pista out of sight. He was the first to get out of the car and hurried to open Lyanna's door as she tried to delay seeing her mother as long as possible. She loved her mother more than anything and wanted the visit to go as smoothly as possible. She didn't know what she would do if her mother didn't like Charles.

Just then, a figure emerged from the house and came towards them. The first thing Charles noticed was how Lyanna was the spitting image of his mother. The second was the way she looked at him as she took her daughter in her arms. With one look, she'd made it clear that she had her eye on him and that he didn't have her wrapped around his little finger.

Well, Charles thought, it was time for him to bring his A game.

=====================

author's note: A pure fluffy chapter to celebrate Charles P2 woop woop! As usual I can't wait to read your thoughts about the chapter and theories about what's going to happen between Charles and Lya's mother 👀

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