#he is always very uncomfortable with it but he does soften up! he sees that harry is capable of so much and he stands beside him

[clemissleepy]

Autumn Sadness

seungmin's rival for the title of 'jeongin's best friend' collapses in his doorway.

wc : 1.7k

tw // implied sh , implied ed , fluff , angst , seungmin and reader are both very sensory-sensitive , seungmin is kinda rude at first , enemies to lovers but it doesn't actually go anywhere, this is just a lil drabble

seungmin hated that stupid face that was always glowing on jeongin's phone when he thought he wasn't looking. it enraged him to hear her obnoxious laugh through the walls and the way jeongin nearly completely ignored seungmin's existence.

when she came around to their shared apartment, it was like seungmin was a blanket. just used to everyone's benefit while he laid there and gained nothing. he didn't get to pick the show they watched, or the food they ordered, or what games they played. he just had to sit there and watch his best friend treat her like a princess.

the leaves were warm oranges and yellows. the sky was nearly gray and dead, wind chilly enough to dust pink on ones cheeks and nose, but not enough to numb their joints. seungmin had his headphones in, reading on his balcony bundled up in blankets and sweaters. he hummed to himself as he flipped through the familiar pages of his favorite book.

out of the corner of his eye, he could see something rushing. he could faintly hear the leaves crushing beneath someone's panicked steps and the creaking of the apartment's lobby door being opened. he caught a glimpse of the striped scarf the person worse and was now annoyingly aware of her presence.

just minutes later, he could hear keys shuffling around in the halls and the locks of his door clicking. the metal door slowly slammed shut and he rolled his eyes while closing his book to investigate. he unwrapped himself, throwing his blanket and story onto his plush comforter, and trotted out to the living space.

there she was, panting, in complete disarray. her scarf was tangled in her unusually disheveled hair. her eyes were uncomfortably pink and the way she darted around looking for something was getting on seungmin's nerves.

"jeongin's not here," he glares, hoping she'll take his hint to leave. but she just stares at him, eyes glossy as fat tears roll down her cheeks. a sob racks her body and she collapses onto her knees in the foyer.

"oh... um... okay," seungmin mutters while she wraps her arms around her and shivers. "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

she does not reply. rather, she curls over herself and chokes on her spit, groaning out and watching her tears puddle on the chill tile beneath her. her hands shake and run through her hair, tugging at it by the roots.

"okay, enough of that," seungmin comments, standing just in front of her and pulling her hands away from herself. 'they're soft,' he thinks. he notices how the white nail polish she always had on was chipped away, her usually clean and well kept nails were bitten far too short and the skin was picked at and fresh.

"what's wrong with you?" he continues to pry, looking down at her judgmentally. her head stays low as she pants and mumbles, rocking back and forth just enough for seungmin to notice. he supposes he needs to try a new approach.

he slowly kneels down, groaning at the ache in his back as he does. he reaches eye level with her and is very slow and gentle as he lifts her chin up to look at him. his eyes soften at the way her eyes just slightly turn inwards, making her look like a lost puppy. however, there is an obvious lack of color in her appearance, more like a homeless abandoned dog than one simply away from its home.

"i know i'm no jeongin and i know we're not friends by any means, but..." seungmin rests his hand onto her shoulder and slowly starts to untangle her from her scarf and jackets. "i'm here for you, if you need someone to talk to."

she chokes out her sickening laugh. "you just asked what the fuck is wrong with me!" she giggles while the tears drench her chin and neck. seungmin rests her scarf and jacket on the floor, now taking a close look at the way she's cradled into herself.

there was gauze wrapped tightly around her arms, suffocating her hands and turning them purple.

"you're cutting off blood," he states while starting to unwrap the bandages. he does not fail to notice the blood seeping through them, but he does not care. he is gentle and reassuring as he rewraps the gauze. "did you make a tourniquet anywhere else?"

she stares blankly for a moment, dissociating in front of the man she claimed did not have a soul. she catches his eyes and is lost in the way they are not as dead as she always perceived. they are small, half closed, but they are alive.

she points at her leg. beneath her jeans there is a lump where the gauze is and she hisses at the tension in her muscles.

"take your pants off."

"what?!" she yells, immediately regretting it from the scratch of her throat.

"well, unless you're gonna fix it yourself," seungmin rolls his eyes and stands up, offering one of his hands to her. she scrutinizes every inch of his face in an attempt to read his expressions just as she does jeongin. but she cannot see what lies behind his eyes or his foul mouth. she can only see the faint light of hope in the pit of darkness she's found herself in.

she adjusts the gauze on her thigh in the bathroom and seungmin insists she changes into some of jeongin's comfy clothes. specifically, his dinosaur pajamas. she is buried in the soft material, but comfortable nonetheless as seungmin leads her to the familiar couch and rests his own weighted blanket on top of her.

"beef or chicken?" he asks while tucking the edges of the blankets into her sides and ensuring she is mostly confined into a small roll of blankets and sadness.

"beef... for what?"

"ramen. you lost weight," he pads away into the kitchen and starts to boil water up in a pot. "i'm guessing you've been bottling everything up because jeongin has been having the time of his life with his girlfriend, yes?"

seungmin noticed the lack of his rival's voice through the walls the past few weeks. he was now hearing a much more trained voice coming from his speakers. it almost irked seungmin how jeongin seemed to shuffle away into a new world without his two best friends.

"how-,"

"i know everything. i know your coworkers have been talking shit about you behind your back and blaming you for things you didn't do. you're on your last warning before you get fired. i know your sister just started her tour in america so you're alone at home. i know your cat was diagnosed with cancer and you had to put her down last week. on top of that, you have exams next week, you can't get a hang of your calculus, and you're worried you'll never succeed, find love, or even make it out of college alive."

seungmin does not notice that he rambles. he knows there's an obvious annoyance in his tone, but he choosss not to acknowledge how odd it is that he knows so much about her.

the water is boiling, but the room is quiet. seungmin knows she can hear the buzzing of the lights, and the fridge, and the stove. so, out of the kindness of his heart, he turns the lights off and grabs an old pair of fluffy earmuffs from the foyer that he stuffs onto her head. 'her hair is so soft,' he thinks.

"well, you know my whole life story... you'd already know everything even if i wanted to tell you what's wrong," she grumbles.

"you talk pretty loud," seungmin shrugs and pours the noodles into the boiling water. "but i don't know why today was your breaking point. jeongin's at a photoshoot, not like it's a date that he abandoned you for."

"someone leaked my face and information. they got pictures of jeongin and i at a cafe and now... he's under fire for dating rumors and my sister is getting hate because of me and i'm so- they know where i live! i had to come here, i have to apologize to jeongin and ask if i can hide here."

"of course you can hide here, dumbass," seungmin chuckles. "and you should be more worried about your safety than jeongin or your sister's public appearance. they leaked your address?"

she nods silently and more tears stream down her cheeks. he finishes the ramen, letting it simmer in the pot with the seasoning. he then finds himself tensely beside her, hands anxious and trained to his sides while she starts to bresthe heavily again.

"you like pressure, right? lay down," seungmin commands, pushing her and watching her fall clumsily onto her side from being rolled inside blankets. she gasps and her eyes bug out, but she watches how seungmin crawls on top of her like a dog that doesn't know his own size and rests his dead weight onto her. she feels like she's floating on a cloud while simultaneously being grounded by the most wonderful weight imaginable.

it does not take either of them long to fall into an autumn nap, snores and drool falling from both their lips. seungmin shuffles in his sleep while she mumbles and hiccups quietly. the rain outside patters against the window rhythmically and their legs intertwine slowly as they adjust for comfort.

jeongin enters the apartment with grocery bags and his keys twirling on his finger. "seung-," he nearly yells, but he sees his roommates feet dangling off the arm of their couch. he notices the discarded jackets and scarf and feminine boots in the entryway, and deduces that his other best friend is here.

he does not, however, expect to see the both of them in a little cuddle pile. the ramen is still full on the stove at a simmer, the lights dim and the tv stuck on the netflix 'who's watching?' screen.

jeongin kneels down and whispers into seungmin's ear, "i knew you liked her."

"shut up, sushi roll needs peace and quiet," the older whines with a lisp and drag to his words. his hand lifts to the her cheeks and cups them oh so gently.

"she's sad... 'm gonna make her happy again."

thank you for reading! <3 ~clem

[mylimoji]

fanon kim practically working as harry's psychologist vs canon kim who sighs and says something along the lines of 'it is what it is' when harry's literally having a mental breakdown. the delusionism...... that man doesn't know how to comfort people, stop making him this 'talking about your feelings' person.

[zhongrin]

my archon

— you sit on the floor by his leg and lay your head on his lap; how does he react?

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, cyno, tighnari, xiao, ayato, childe, wanderer

◇ tags ◇ mostly fluff, slightly suggestive on some, petnames (dear, little one - zhongli | bunny, babe - childe | puppy - ayato)

◇ a/n ◇ is this an excuse for me to imagine getting into a position to worship zhongli? yes. yes it is-

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli, ever the gentleman, frowns at seeing you sit on the hard cold flooring and caresses your cheek gently, his other hand settling on your shoulder.

“that must be uncomfortable, dear. come rest on-”

he blinks, brows furrowing when you tell him that you want to stay down there by his feet. the protests die in his throat at the reverent gaze you give him, and something stirs in his chest. a nostalgic feeling that takes him millennia back; to the olden times when he was a feared deity of a more… disagreeable temperament.

“…. very well. but at least sit on a cushion, please,” a flutter of his long eyelashes, and for a moment you catch the shadow of his former self behind his amber eyes, “if you are so intent to worship me, who am i to refuse, little one? you already do look the part of a devoted worshipper….. hm... why don’t i teach you how to do this properly.”

al haitham glances away from his book to raise his eyebrows in amusement toward you.

“what are you doing?” he asks plainly; several possibilities pop up in his sharp-witted brain, but he would rather hear your intention from your own lips rather than blindly guess what your unexpectedly unique mind has concocted this time.

you hum nonchalantly and grab the free hand that isn’t holding his book, insistently tugging on it when he doesn’t budge. with a sigh, he lets you maneuver the appendage so it rests against the top of your head. with a roll of his eyes and a slight redness to his ears, he starts to tend to your hair, blunt nails scratching against your scalp every now and then in a way that you always praise him for doing.

“you’re a strange one, [name].”

hey, they do say birds of a feather flock together, right?

tighnari gives you a look. you know. that sassy side eye and a crooked smile threatening to lift one corner of his lips?

“am i not the one who’s supposed to be given headpats and pampering?” he asks teasingly, slightly moving his feet to nudge on your sides.

your boyfriend laughs at the playful glare you give him, and he releases the pen from his fingers to give you your much-needed pats. his eyes soften at the way you lean onto his touch, and he slumps backward onto his seat, exhaustion starting to settle in after hours of working on those reports and manuals.

“ten more minutes, and then it’s my turn.”

childe blinks owlishly at first, lips parted in surprise when you just decide to do this while he was just chilling on the sofa after a long day at work. his expression quickly turns into a teasing boyish grin, however, and he opts to squish your cheeks with his fingers.

“awww, seems like someone really missed me, hmm?” he leans down to place a quick kiss on your puckered lips, “why don’t you climb onto my lap, bunny? i can give you all the attention you’ve missed~”

he frowns when you refuse, and his clear blue eyes darken when you insistently hug one of his legs, your cheek pressing onto his thigh.

“be careful there, babe. you might start something if you keep that up.”

“what…. is the meaning of this, if i may ask?” cyno asks, flustered, the cards in his hands forgotten.

just seconds ago, you had pushed away the album containing his tcg cards from his lap and replaced it with your pretty head. while he doesn’t mind the sudden change at all - he can always sort out his cards later, you always come first, of course - he’s both befuddled and unsure of what you wish for him to do when you give him those pair of puppy eyes with this unfamiliar arrangement.

he follows your gaze that is locked onto his hand, which prompts him to discard his cards on top of the album and place them on your cheek, calloused thumb slowly drawing circles as he gives you a silent questioning gaze.

when you close your eyes in bliss, he chuckles, and he moves his other hand to settle on your other cheek before leaning down to kiss you on your forehead.

“how is it that you get more and more adorable the more we spend time with each other?”

kaeya raises his eyebrows, the hand swirling the glass of wine stopping its movements completely as he feels you hug his leg and place your head on his lap. instinctively, his free hand brushes against your cheek.

mischief colors the tone of his voice as you lovingly kiss his knuckles and give him those doe eyes he adores.

“my, a free leg warmer? how kind of you.”

he laughs in response to the playful slap you delivered to his thigh.

“so, are you planning to climb onto my lap anytime soon, or?”

another slap, another laugh, and kaeya leans down to place a kiss on the crown of your head.

“i have to ask - does this leg warmer come with the service of a wine glass holder? hmm? how about a-” [lines redacted to keep this sfw]

“wha- g-get up! you shouldn’t-” xiao splutters in embarrassment, trying to grab onto your shoulders to pull you into a standing position.

his shock is quickly overwritten by utter confusion when you protest and insist on staying where you are. he ceases trying to move you from the spot, but he decides to ask, “-i… don’t understand. isn’t it uncomfortable? what are you hoping to gain from this?”

the yaksha is still at a loss even after you answer. it’s illogical, he thinks. if his attention is what he wants, why would you choose to have this discomfort when you can just sit beside him and achieve the same thing? does this position have a special meaning to mortals? he’s only seen it on the illustration of that silly romance novel written by an apparently famous mortal from inazuma that you were reading about a week ago, telling a story about a deity and his favored subject- oh.

“…. you’re so weird,” he grumbles, suddenly avoiding your eyes as redness begins to creep onto his cheeks. he is most definitely not a being worthy of worship….. but he supposes if it’s you… he can indulge, right? just for a little….

“oh dear, it seems like someone’s bored,” ayato chuckles, not even looking down from his paperwork as he repositions his legs on his plush armchair, “unfortunately, puppy, i am currently working and unable to tend to your whims.”

his smile only gets wider when he hears you whine and tug on the sleeves of his kimono. what a greedy little thing; your adorableness truly knows no bounds, he muses in amusement. but it is true that he might have been quite neglectful of your needs the past few days…

but it’s no fun to just give in that easily.

ayato gives you a glance and two short pats that are far too brief to your liking, before he returns his attention to his papers, but not before saying with a teasing edge to his tone, “stay like that for an hour while i finish my work, and i’ll give you all my attention after, alright?”

wanderer smirks and crosses his arms before leaning back on his chair, clearly amused and pleased at the sight. he attempts to move his leg away, and when you whine and chase after the limb, the puppet barks out an amused laugh, mirth dancing like electric sparks within his eyes.

“look at you, so needy and desperate for my attention,” he rolls his eyes in fake exasperation, though he doesn’t bother hiding the pleased toothy grin on his expression, “what? what do you want?”

he parries your hand away when you reach out for him, a disbelieving huff of breath escaping the ex-harbinger. the flick on your forehead is playful, and the same tone carries to his next words, like a fleeting wisp of breeze cheekily grazing your skin.

“you think you can order me around as you please? think again,” his voice lowers into a darker and softer drawl, “aren’t you already in the correct position? beg, and then, maybe i’ll consider fulfilling your request.”

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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[empresskylo]

ghost headcanons?!! 🙏🥹

headcanons involve reader being referred to as "she" and afab.

♡ it took you a while to even realize simon was interested in you. the man does not communicate well. my guy would stare at you and you’d think he’s pissed off, but really he’s just trying to get your attention. he’d tease you during missions and you’d just assume he’s being kinda mean. he'd roll his eyes at stupid remarks you'd make, not knowing he was smiling under his mask. he seemed to avoid any direct training with you and you assumed he didn't think you worthy of his time, but really, he just wasn't sure what he'd do if he was forced to be that close to you... touching you.

♡ it isn’t until one day when you’re sparring with soap that ghost steps in. you’re busy tackling soap to the ground, both of you bursting out into a fit of giggles as you straddle him. when simon enters the room his fist automatically tightens. when soap looks up, he immediately stops laughing and shoves you off of him (affectionately). later that night, johnny approaches simon. “hey, Lt. just so you know, there’s nothing between me and—“ “why is that any of my business?” johnny looks at him, his eyebrows quirking upwards. “you know why.” simon grumbles something and storms off.

♡ the day you actually realize ghost likes you is when you’re walking around base in far less clothing than usual. Normally you were either all geared up, covered head to toe, or in a more relaxed sweat attire for relaxing around base. But today there was a heat wave. your hair was down, clinging to your face from the sweat, your abdomen exposed as you walked by him in a cropped tank, your small spandex shorts riding up. ghost did a double take. you teased him (not thinking anything of it; you would have teased any of the men.) “like what you see, Lt.?” ghost glared at you, unable to say anything. your eyes widened. shit, he actually did like what he was seeing.

♡ he is a very, very jealous man. he's not insecure or anything like that, he just can't help but seethe when he sees you acting a little too friendly with anyone else. he wants that side of you all to himself. he also can't stand watching other men come onto you, or acting a little too handsy. he's often ready to chop a man's hand off just for even thinking about flirting with you.

♡ one day as you're just strolling around base, heading to the gym for some training, gaz spied you, looking you up and down. he nudged ghost, who was standing beside him, in a check-her-out gesture; y’know, typical guy stuff. when gaz looked up, ghost was already glaring down at him, not nodding in agreement like he thought he would be. gaz choked, extremely uncomfortable under Lt.‘s death glare (no one likes when ghost had that fury in his eyes). “don’t look at her like that ever again.” gaz raised his hands, a bit panicked, not sure what he did wrong. “okay, shit.” “i’m serious, gaz. i will fucking kill you.” (always the dramatics with ghost.)

♡ you were rather close with soap, and so was simon, but it still bothered him seeing you two together. simon watched as your face visibly blushed at some remark soap made. that alone infuriated him. But then the two of you burst into giggles, your hand reaching out and grabbing soap’s forearm as you leaned forward, laughing. shortly after, you found your way to simon brooding in the corner. “what’s up your ass?” you asked teasingly, but simon wasn’t feeling the same humor as you were. “oh, i’m sorry,” he said with sarcasm, “should i be smiling and jumping up and down with joy as i watch my girlfriend’s face flush as she sits there giggling with another man?” you were surprised—not because simon was acting jealous, but because it was over soap of all people. you and simon both were friends with johnny. “simon…” you said breathlessly, getting him to look down at you, his eyes immediately softening as he looked at you. he sighed, “i know, i know,” he said raising his hands to rub the back of his head. “i just can’t help it. i hate seeing you respond to others like how you respond to me,” his hand came out and cupped your jaw, his thumb resting on your lower lip. “i jus' want you all to myself.”

♡ ghost is needy (-: he’s just a big brute of a man who likes leaning into your chest as you cradle his head, running you hands through his hair, relaxing him. nothing wrong with that.

♡ i mean, this man has some serious trauma, so it’s safe to say the first time you ever comforted him, he was… surprised. unsure of what to do or how to react. he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from you. and at first he was put off. he didn’t need that kind of coddling, he was supposed to be an anchor for you, not the other way around. but he succumbed to your soft touches and gentle words, eventually tearing up, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, your lap, or your chest while you would run fingers through his hair or rub his back, caressing him as much as you could. and eventually, that became something simon craved. sought out. dreamt about. god, he never would have thought he’d be the type of person who would seek out your comforting hugs, wanting to hold you close against his chest as your fingers danced across his skin. or when you’d lay next to him in bed, you’d stroke his jaw, run your thumb over his lips, rest your hands on his chest right above his heart, and simon would shut his eyes, feeling his own form of safety in your arms.

♡ and yes he loves to cuddle and hold you close, but sometimes it felt so fucking good to be held by you. if you were laying on the couch, he’d crawl on top of you, stopping to rest his head on your chest, his heavy body squishing you, his arms coming up to wrap around you as he lay on top of you, your hands twirling strands of his hair.

♡ but he also loved to hold you in his arms and comfort you. there was something so powerful in feeling needed by someone else. he both loved and hated it. but mostly loved it. he liked to be the big spoon, pulling you against his chest, curling into you, literally engulfing you. his favorite thing was when you would sit on his lap though. sometimes you'd lay in his lap, like if you were watching tv, and sometimes you'd come to him, straddle him, and he'd wrap his arms around you, letting you nuzzle into his neck while he traced circles on your back under your shirt.

♡ simon, as much as he attempts to act all stoic and emotionless, is actually very emotional and passionate.

♡ i mean, just by seeing how jealous he gets says a lot. but he also feels other strong emotions. like anger and love.

♡ when ghost realized he loved you, it ate him up from the inside. he had this burning, heady love for you and he didn’t know how to show it. everyone around him seemed capable of expressing their feelings, so why couldn’t he? he just wasn't used to it. he suppressed emotions close to him for so long, it was hard to let them back out again. he would usually profess his love for you when he's had too much to drink. or late at night while you were curled into him after a long mission. it was always after long and difficult missions that he wanted to tell you how he felt the most. he'd usually whisper it in your ear, reminding you how much he cares for you. you'd tell him that you're not going anywhere and simon would squeeze you tighter in response. just those few simple words meant so much to him. he couldn't stand the idea of losing you.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖

♡ size kink! size kink! size kink! he's very comfortable in his stature and he is so obsessed with being bigger than you. he loves how tiny your hands look in his. loves having to look down at you, especially when you're mad at him because having to look up at him made you feel silly while you were trying to yell at him. and his stupid smirk didn't help.

♡ and i'm just gonna say it, my guy has a big dick. like the energy matches what's in the pants. and he really enjoys watching you squirm under him while he bottoms out. it always takes a bit to fit him inside and he never gets over that. the way you whimper every fucking time drives him mad.

♡ praise kink!!!! yes sir. he loves to praise YOU. its his favorite thing. its so crazy to him that when he's balls deep inside you, his cute little comments about how good you feel or how pretty you are, makes you blush/get all shy. "you're being so good for me, baby." "god, you feel so fucking amazing." "you're so damn tight." "good girl." "just like that." "fuck, the sounds you're making are so hot." "i'm not gonna last much longer if you keep doin' that, love."

♡ he also likes to call you such cute pet names. it's a nice juxtaposition to the dark, rough exterior he presents. especially when he likes to tease and make crude jokes with the guys. but then he'll whisper something to you so no one else can hear and he'll call you 'princess.'

♡ his favorite names to call you: pet, princess, love, sweet girl!!!! god damn, just hearing his thick accent calling you those names has me swooning. his favorite to use while you're having sex is pet and sweet girl. "gimmie those eyes, sweet girl." "gettin' shy on me now, pet?" other names he likes to call you, just not as regularly: "baby, baby girl, little *insert cute animal here* (little fox, little dove, little doe), sunshine.

♡ he likes when you call him pet names even though he might pretend to hate it. loves specifically being called: my love, handsome, bear, cutie (he'll give you shit for this one, but he always has a shit-eating grin on under his mask when you call him that), big guy.

♡ he's dominant. like so dominant. he likes to be in control. he likes to watch you whither beneath him. he likes to know he's the one doing this to you. the only one. "tell me i'm the only- fuck -one. tell me I'm the only one who makes you come like this."

♡ enjoys missionary a lot because he can look at you in the eyes. he definitely likes to be making eye contact while he fucks you. which is super important to him, especially considering how fucked up his past is, he needs this kind of trust and closeness when he's fucking you.

♡ doggy style is fun, and his hands always leave bruises on your hips. but usually when he takes you from behind, you're both standing. that or he has you bent over something.

♡ he likes to fuck you from behind while standing, his hand gripped around your neck, pulling you up to him so he can see your face and kiss your neck.

♡ he is very much a tease. he likes to torture you all day, making you beg for it at the end of the night. you on your knees is his favorite sight. "tell me what you want, love." "you're gonna have to ask nicer than that." "beg for it."

♡ simon had you on your knees before him, your pants missing but your shirt still in place, your hands twisting the hem of it as you looked at him. his hand came out to stroke your chin, tilting it towards him as he rubbed his thumb along your lower lip. "what do you want from me, pet?" he asked, tilting his head as he appraised you. you gulped. "you." your words were whispered, a cynical smirk forming on simon's lips. "you're gonna have to be more specific than that." you were about to just demand he fuck you, you were getting so impatient, but you knew he only would if you asked sweetly. your face felt hot, shy all of a sudden. simon knew you got shy when he made you beg, and fucking hell, he loved seeing you like that. "i want you to fuck me, simon." he smiled, kicking up a brow. "please," you added. "well since you asked nicely," he said undoing his belt. "but first, you'll have to earn my cock." he lowered his pants and freed himself, his tip already glistening in precum. his hand slid down your jaw and pushed fallen strands of hair behind your ear. "open up that pretty little mouth of yours," he cooed.

[dantakeyoman]

I would reallyy love if you could write about how when the Sully family reaches the new tribe all of the Metkayina girls are trying really hard to get Neteyam to notice them (Cause you know he's the oldest, a good warrior and is gonna be a leader soon) but they dont know he already has a mate and the reader gets jealous. So neteyam has to comfort her and when she realizes she is being silly and has nothing to worry about...this one metkayina girl really pushes it....(im talking getting touchy with neteyam, always finding ways to get him alone and is rude to the reader) and she loses her absolute shit and you can decide what she does but i want it to be very possessive like behavior😏 sorry this is long😅

Metkayina Girls Start Falling At Neteyam's Feet and You, His Mate, Get Jealous (SFW)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: a story of jealousy with aa twist, these girls are really shameless, Kiri and Lo'ak duo, sorry im posting so late, my stomach actually really hurts rn, but not writing for so long has been driving me crazy, anyway, enjoy <3 ( i barfed in my mouth a little bit writing some of this cringey shit )

"Humans?! That must've been so scary for you! What happened next?" Leyelu asked as she stretched, laying herself stomach-down in the sand in front of Neteyam, batting her eyelashes.

"Yeah, did you fight them? I'm sure you did, since you are such a strong warrior," Nayat smiled, scooching her seat closer to the boy.

"Um...well, I didn't-." "Impossible. I can imagine you swooping in and saving your family. All heroic-like," Srraza smirked, openly raking her eyes up and down Neteyam's body, not caring how uncomfortable he looked.

Their shameless display made you want to vomit, and possibly scream, at the same time.

There were a total of three girls. Leyelu, Nayat, and Srraza. And all were practically throwing themselves at Neteyam.

It had been about a week and some change since you and the Sullys arrived at Awa'atlu. And every day, without fail, these girls managed to tail Neteyam, following him and showering him in praise whenever they could.

You hadn't had not two seconds alone with him before one of them, or all three, came barging in with some fake excuse of a heavy basket they needed help lifting or a boat they needed help loading.

You knew Neteyam never entertained their advances, and were thankful for it.

But being his mate, you couldn't help but feel frustrated. (and maybe a little jealous)

"If you scowl any harder, it's going to become permanent," Kiri playfully warned, your face amusing her.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," you curtly answered, tearing your eyes away from the scene angrily.

"Yes. I'm fine is stretched tightly across your face right now," Lo'ak smirked from his spot in the sand, hands behind his head as he subathed.

"(y/n), I hope you know that Neteyam would never-." "I know," you sighed, already guessing what Kiri was going to say.

"I trust Neteyam completely. It's just-."

You couldn't finish the sentence. It was embarrassing.

"Just what?" Lo'ak asked, ears perking in intrigue.

"Give her a minute," Kiri shushed, smacking him in the arm, earning an annoyed ow! from the boy.

"It's not that I'm scared Neteyam will leave me. It is just...I don't see why he won't," you started, staring down at your feet in shame.

Kiri and Lo'ak both whipped their heads towards you in disbelief, their expressions contorting into ones of confusion.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lo'ak asked, confused.

"Lo'ak!" Kiri scolded.

She was thinking the same thing, but he could've been a little easier on the delivery.

"Look at them," you sighed, holding out your hand to the girls, who were still fake listening to Neteyam's story.

"Leyelu's father is one of the best hunters in the clan, only second to Tonowari. Nayat's mother is incredibly skilled on the loom, who is now teaching Nayat everthing she knows. For Eywa's sake, Srraza is studying under Ronal to be a healer."

The brother ans sister's expressions slowly softened, the meaning behind your words now coming to light.

"You are the best dancer the Omaticaya have ever seen. And the best the Metkayina have seen, as well," Kiri tried to comfort, a warm smile on her face.

"Oh, yes, because dancing can help me hunt for food. And dancing can help me make clothes. Let's not forget, it can help me heal as well," you sarcastically agreed, snippy.

Kiri sighed.

She didn't take it to heart, not one bit. She understood your frustration.

"They all have spent their years learning skills that can be of use, be important. All I have to show for mine are a couple of dance moves."

Lo'ak looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it until you were finished.

"And the best part of it is they are all gorgeous, the most sought after girls in this village. And I'm just...me."

Kiri felt her heart ache.

She had no idea you had been feeling this way this whole time.

She thought it was just a small case of jealousy. But it seemed to be much deeper than that.

"So, no. I'm not frustrated or scared of Neteyam leaving me. I am frustrated and scared because he has every reason to."

You turned back to the scene, only to see Leyelu resting her hands on Neteyam's chest, leaning into his face.

"Hey, Neteyam. Have you ever given thought to who could possibly be your mate?" she asked with a smirk, peering up at him through her beautiful eyelashes.

It was as if you didn't even exist.

"(y/n), wai-." But you ignored Kiri, abruptly standing up, not wanting to watch the scene any longer.

"Dammit, (y/n)! Sit down and look," Lo'ak groaned, roughly pulling you back down and turning your face to watch Neteyam.

"Do not touch me," Neteyam sternly ordered, grabbing the girl's wrists and pulling her hands of him, harshly.

"I know that you know I already have a mate. And you trying to make advances on me while knowing that is incredibly disrespectful."

The girls were giving him puppy dog eyes, as if that would guilt him into stopping.

It made you gag.

"I do not appreciate how you've been disregarding (y/n) this entire week. Especially when she has done nothing to you."

"That's exactly the point. She does nothing. She is just there with you. You two do not even act like mates," Srraza scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"That is true. I never see you two hug, or kiss, or embrace each other romantically at all," Nayat agreed.

"Because any time I get alone with her is interrupted by you three!" Neteyam exclaimed, annoyed.

His sudden burst shocked you.

You didn't know he felt this.

"I only get time to myself every once in a while, and I like to spend it with (y/n). But ever since I've gotten here, you three have used every mean under the sun to keep that from happening. For Eywa's sake, that was what I was on my way to do now before you all came along!"

"But why? She doesn't hunt, she doesn't loom, she doesn't heal, she can't even carry a tune. She's boring, plain. Why would you willingly want to spend time with her?" Leyelu asked, cocking an eyebrow s she crossed her arms.

Ouch.

"That's why you look like a dead fish, bitch!" Lo'ak loudly called, making you and Kiri die in snickers.

The girl whipped around, glaring daggers at the boy.

"Lo'ak!" Kiri tried to scold, but couldn't through her laughter.

"It's true! If her eyes were any farther apart, she'd be able to see the back of her head," he huffed.

You were his friend. And he didn't like people talking shit about you.

Meanwhile, Neteyam was using every ounce of his strength to not bare his teeth at the girl.

"I don't care about what she can't do. I love what she can. She's a phenomenal dancer, and has forgotten more moves than you three will ever learn. She's funny, she's kind, she's caring, the farthest thing from boring. And her beauty makes the three of you look like a patch wet sand. I am lucky to call her my mate, and if you all would excuse me, I'm going to spend the rest of the day with her," Neteyam angrily corrected, pushing past them and walking towards you.

And as he drew closer, you smiled, wider than you had in a while.

You felt foolish for thinking he could do better than you.

Especially after he just confessed that he believed he could do no better than you.

It made you feel happy, and loved, and secure in your relationship.

There was no one that could take your place because you were the place, and the only one who could ever be it.

And now knowing that fact, sent you over the moon.

…

taglist !!

@vane28282, @remutoast, @p1nkprint, @ladyorchidia, @anthonys-viscountess, @karmz-7319, @cantbuysophialove, @scarabruhs, @an0th3rsss, @deloe18, @mariiyoushi, @av1xar, @alexxcorona113, @may-and-lay, @overlyfancybreakfastfoods, @harshita-hiranyamayi, @qui-02, @myheartfollower, @morks-watermelon, @bangtanxberm, @adavenus, @sweetdayme4427, @lilac13, @torchbearerkyle, @dazedshoon, @rovckwell, @wonieee, @0710khj, @multifandomreader73, @kadu-5607, @la-cey, @roseazura, @sophiejiro, @angelbeari, @bludyl

[ja3yun]

Melting Point | P.SH (teaser)

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), praise kink, angst, swearing, confliction, chapters are updated with individual warnings.

synopsis: when circumstances unexpectedly bring you and your brother's long-time ice skating rival, park sunghoon, together, you discover a surprising connection. However, your brother forbids any relationship between you. Will you heed his advice or follow your heart?

wc: tba (80-100k)

release date: 09.02.24, 5pm GMT

end date: tba

tag list: CLOSED

a/n: hi! I am currently working on the final touches of this fic. It should be ready mid february. I hope you enjoy this series when it comes out <3

__

The cold hits as you walk into the arena and the sound of skates gliding along the ice fills your ears. You walk to the middle of the second row on the bleachers and sit down, unpacking your bag and crossing your legs to give you more room to lay your laptop and paper on. It’s a juggle to get everything balanced but you’re a master at it now.

Typing in your password you hear the skates coming towards you and scraping to a halt but you don’t look up.

“If you’ve come to spy on my routine you aren’t doing a very good job at hiding.” Sunghoon playfully remarks. You hadn’t even noticed it was him who was skating, since it was usually Wonyoung gracing the ice you just expected it to be her. He looks at your mess of a lap and scrunches his full eyebrows, “Like you’re really not making it discrete.” 

"Oh, no, I'm just studying," you say as you look up and gesture to your laptop. As you start typing again, you catch his sneer and turn to face him once more.

“You expect me to believe that?” The look on his face is incredulous when you don’t budge, “Don’t they have libraries at your Uni?”

Sunghoon’s tone is accusatory and you don’t like it. “Look, I don’t have beef with you okay? That’s the wrong Kang sibling.” There is no reason for him to be giving you attitude right now, you hadn’t done anything wrong, an innocent bystander in all this. 

Deep down he knew that too, but he couldn’t be too careful.

He examines you and how much of the truth you're telling, crossing his arms and resting his chin on top of the barrier. “So, what? You genuinely just sit here and study? Does the cold stimulate your brain or something?” 

“No, it’s like white noise at this point, it's comforting.” Glancing up, you see his still dubious expression, “Ugh, look I come here all the time, ask anyone!” Your arms gesturing to the empty rink is not really helping your case.

Having had enough you slam the laptop shut and stand up, “Whatever, I’ll just go somewhere else.”

Sunghoon shoots his arms up to mock surrender, “Woah, Sweets, calm down, I was just making sure. Need to air on the side of caution, yeah?” His voice softens. 

Making you uncomfortable wasn’t on his list of things to do, but his mum made it very clear your whole family wasn’t to be trusted, and he always heeded his mother's warnings even if he thought she was being overdramatic. “Listen, stay here as long as you want but if I see your brother doing a double toe loop into a triple axel I know who to blame.” 

With a smirk, you sit back down, “See now you’ve just told me your big secret,” a laugh leaves your lips, “Changed your mind on trusting a Kang so soon huh?” 

He’s flabbergasted. 

Did he really just tell you part of his routine like it was nothing in an instant after he just told himself not to be so trusting of you?  You’re more dangerous than he first thought and you aren’t even trying.

After seeing the realisation come over his face you laugh loudly, “Sunghoon, don’t worry. My brother can handle you on his own, he doesn’t need to cheat to beat you.”

“Say that to my 8 first places over him.”  The arena goes silent. It’s not like you could argue with him, Sunghoon did beat Minhee in a lot of skates. 

Trying to lighten the mood he points to you, “No pictures.” He jokes and skates away adroitly.

You don’t see the smile creeping onto his face, or the way he tries to shake you out of his head. The conversation between you both made him want it to be the start of many more, much more.

[finalgilmoregirl]

your newest mike fic has me dead on the floor omg. can you please write something with grumpy mike and his sunshine reader?

a/n : i love this concept it’s such a classic, leans towards fem!reader but no she/her pronouns used, no use of y/n, lots of fluff and a smidge of angst

☆ moments in grumpy!mike x sunshine!readers relationship :

1 ౨ৎ putting on performances with abby. for a child her age, an active imagination is a given. however with the kinds of things she has experienced in her life, the possibilities are truly endless. it's not uncommon for mike to come home and see that the living room has essentially been transformed into a broadway set. and even though he's often coming home from a long shift, exhaustion be damned, you and abby still sometimes manage to wrangle him into the worlds you've created.

if you and abby are the knights of opposing royal courts, he is the jester. if you two are witches, he is the evil henchman. if you're competing fighters, he's the referee. if you two are ballerinas, he is the judge (and he always chooses you as the winner).

but no matter how many times you and abby tell him that he has to do the voices too, he still won't learn. he's essentially just an audience member of your theatrics, sitting on the ground in whatever costume one of you have placed on his shoulders and simply trying to fathom how to two people can have so much energy at the end of the day.

2 ౨ৎ grumpy!mike is your own personal bodyguard. although your sunny aura is extremely welcoming on its own, the constant frown on his face is enough of a signal for a person to turn and walk the other way the moment they notice him next to you.

he's often uncomfortable in public, too aware of his surroundings and overanalyzing everyone's actions. this results in his having a hand on you at all times to calm his nerves, whether that be with your hands clasped together, his hand on your waist or his arm around your shoulder. at first glance the two of you could look like complete strangers that just happen to be in close proximity to each other, but the second mike turns to look at you and his expression softens, it's obvious the two of you are in love.

3 ౨ৎ for the first few weeks of you and mike getting to know each other, he’d never really smiled. sure, he was always kind and polite but the most he would give to express joy was the raise of his eyebrows and the tiniest bit of an amused smirk. so of course when you had been in the middle of recounting a story and mike had laughed, smiling with all of his perfect teeth on display, you were pleasantly shocked.

"so that's what that looks like." you grinned at him, earning a tilt of his head in return.

"what does what look like?" he asked.

"your smile." mike was quick to blush, coughing and looking down for a moment to try and regain his original composure, but before he could feel too embarrassed you continued, "i like it, you should do it more often."

from then on you couldn't get enough of his smile, always trying to make him laugh. which as serious as he is, deep down he lived for it, just basking in your joy and the fact that he was the cause of it.

4 ౨ৎ that being said, mike has a bit of a temper and you know that, taking his waves of bad moods in stride and trying your best to cheer him up, but sometimes he gets so riled up that there’s only so much you can do to help, and mike loses patience.

it’s very rare when he snaps at you and when he does he almost immediately regrets it after seeing how it effects you.

the ever-present smile you hold that has the power to lift everyone’s spirits falls in an instant when one of his outbursts catches you off guard. your eyebrows furrow and you look down to try to keep your own composure. you know he’s not actually mean, at least never to you. you pushed him too hard, you think to yourself and it’s in this moment that mike snaps out of his rage, like a demon that was possessing him had left his body and all he feels is his heart ache.

here you are, the light of his life and he’s the reason you’re not smiling. he rubs his palm over his forehead and reaches out for you, “fuck, i’m sorry” he sighed, “i don’t know why i yelled”

you feel his hand hover over your shoulder and look up, seeing his face full of regret. you reach your hands up and hold his face, which mike immediately melts into, his hands moving to hold your waist. he grabs you tight, desperate even, thinking that if he lets you go you'll leave and he'll lose you for good.

“i know baby. you’ve just had a bad day, i shouldn’t have pushed you.” you sympathize with him, to which he shakes his head.

“yeah but that’s not an excuse, you just wanted to help and—" he pauses and sighs, disappointed with himself, "i’m grateful for that. i love that you care about my problems, no matter how stupid they are.”

you smile gently at his confession, and a weight is lifted off of his chest.

“they’re not stupid. plus, i know you’d do the same for me. you can groan all you want about it but deep down you’re the biggest softie i know.”

mike rolls his eyes playfully, and leans his forehead against yours, “only to you.”

you giggle and connect your lips to his, letting them linger for a few seconds before pulling away and whispering, “yeah, i’d hope so.”

thanks for the request ☆

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

hi i could request mafia!carlos where he is like mean to everyone but you and is super protective and possessive with reader please!?

Mine - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 7833>

It was nearing on dinner time, and Carlos still wasn't finished with the meeting he had gone into hours ago. Business had been booming lately, and he always had people wanting to make deals with him.

The maids were scrambling, since they normally asked you or Carlos what you wanted for dinner. You didn't know, so then the responsibility usually landed on Carlos. It was such a small decision to make that would have zero consequences, but your mind had gone blank.

You knew you usually shouldn't interrupt Carlos' meetings, but it was surely nearing the end, and there probably weren't many more important things to talk about. You approached the door and heard some frustrated conversations on the inside. "I am not having this move screwed up by you fucking morons," you heard Carlos spit. 

Knocking hesitantly, you opened the door and poked your head around it. "Not right now," Carlos huffed, and he was looking rather dishevelled. His suit jacket was sitting askew on his body, his top button had been undone and his hair was ruffled due to how many times he had run his hands through it. 

Carlos looked up as the door opened, and his face completely softened. "Hey, baby, you OK?" he asked, opening his arm out to you to slot yourself into. "Can I ask you something really quick? It's OK if not, it's not important," you said as you felt the eyes of all the men in the room on you. 

"Yeah, of course, c'mere," he said, glad to see you after hours of dealing with these useless wastes of oxygen. "Turn away," he commanded the people around you, not wanting them to see you or watch your body as you approached him. 

He didn't want their dirty, sinful gazes on you, since he wouldn't be able to control what they were thinking like he could their actions. The thought of it made him sick, and he didn't want you to be exposed to the world he lived in. 

You were his serenity in the madness, and he couldn't have that tainted by people with purely bad intentions. He could keep you safe, and that was exactly what he would do until he took his dying breath. 

As the men turned their chairs away, all that could be heard was the click of your heels on the cold marble floors as they echoed in the high ceilings. "What do you want for dinner?" You asked as he rested an arm around your waist. 

"How does steak sound?" He said after thinking for a moment. 

"Yeah, good. Sorry for interrupting," you apologised, sweetly smiling at him. He looked tired, but only you would be able to tell. He would keep a stone cold, stoic face on while he was around other people, but would become the clingiest man you had ever met when it was just the two of you. 

"Don't be sorry, I'm very glad to see you," he smiled, tugging you in for a kiss on the cheek. "And we should be done within half an hour, given that these guys stop being such fuckwits," he raised his voice slightly so that the men could hear.

"I'll see you in a bit," you smiled, turning and walking back out of the meeting. Once you were out of the room, Carlos allowed the men to turn around and look at him again. They seemed to get the hint and they stopped fucking around with him, since the realised it wouldn't get them anywhere. 

If Carlos wanted something, he would get it. If he wanted something done, it would be done his way or no way. He had that power, and he was sure as hell going to use it. 

As he had said, his meeting was wrapped up within half an hour, and he had his security on the doors to make sure they all left and wouldn't try anything. You were stood on the stairs as you watched them go, and one of them sent you a flirtatious wink. 

If Carlos had done something like that, it would have sent shivers up your spine and butterflies in your stomach. But he had made you feel a shiver of disgust, an uncomfortable tingle that made you feel uneasy. 

You saw as he leant into the guy walking beside him, whispering something to him with a filthy grin plastered on his face. Carlos' ears pricked up when he heard the mention of the men seeing a beautiful woman in the house. 

"I wonder how much he pays her to saunter that cute ass of hers up to him like that, because I'd fucking give it to her," he joked, but the man he was walking with stayed silent. He saw as Carlos' face turned into pure, unbridled rage. 

Without warning, Carlos rushed up to the guy, pinning him against the wall by his collar. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" he spat in his face, and the guy just stayed silent, practically shaking with fear. "I asked you a fucking question, who the fuck do you think you are talking about my wife like that?" 

Carlos let the guy sweat for a bit, and he opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He was frozen in fear and instantly regretted what he had said and he wanted so desperately to take it back. "You say anything about her again, or you so much as think about her again, I will know and I will make sure she's the last goddamn thing you get the pleasure of fucking thinking about, got it?" he said, pressing the guy against the wall even harder.

Security didn't bother intervening, knowing full well that Carlos could handle himself. They knew when to step in, but they were enjoying the show.  "Answer me when I fucking speak to you. Do you understand?" he spat in his face again. 

"Y-Yes," he stuttered, not able to meet Carlos' eyes. 

"Show some fucking respect, yes what?" Carlos said through gritted teeth, gripping onto the guy's collar as his knuckles turned white. "Yes, sir," the guy gulped, praying that Carlos would just let him go. Carlos released the man from against the wall, but not before he swung and punched him square in the face.

The sickening crunch of his nose echoed around you, and you took a sharp intake of breath at the sight of the blood running down his face and dripping onto the floor. "Get the fuck out of my house," Carlos commanded as the guy scurried out of the door along with the rest of them. 

Carlos inspected his hand, his knuckles split and purple bruises were already blooming over the skin, but he still hadn't realised that you were there. He liked to keep you away from that side of his life, but you seeing snippets was inevitable.

You moved slightly, but the halls were very echoey, so he heard you, his head snapping up to where you were stood. "Hey, princess, we're all done," he said, trying to hide his hand behind his back. But, he could tell by the look on your face that you had seen something. 

"How much did you see?" he sheepishly asked, trying to stop his hand from shaking. He couldn't feel the pain now because of all the adrenaline running through his veins, but he felt this weird numbness. "All of it," you said, descending the stairs towards him.

"Well it's been taken care of now. Sorry, you shouldn't have had to see that," he apologised, his head hung low. He didn't like the look of worry on your face, your features flushed with concern. He never wanted you to stress or worry about him. "It's OK, I don't mind," you dismissed as you stood in front of him, "You go sit down, I'll get some stuff to wrap up your hand," 

"No, no, I'll do it, don't worry," he shook his head, pulling his hand away from you as you tried to inspect the damage. He could take care of himself, and he wanted to deal with the slightly painful consequences of his violent, yet just, actions. "Carlos, please," you softly sighed, not wanting him to pull away from you. 

On the day you got married, you vowed to take care of him in sickness and in health. Yes, that wasn't geared towards when your husband had broken someone's nose and his knuckles were split, but it still applied - especially in the world you were living in. 

Carlos was now at the disadvantage, since he could never say no to you. You could ask him for the world, and he would burn anyone in it to give it to you. You could ask him for the stars, and he'd go to space himself to retrieve every last one for you.

"Fine," he sighed, letting you lead him over to the dining room table. You could smell dinner being made in the kitchen next door, but you still had some time to patch Carlos up before then. "I'll be back," you told him, walking out of the room and leaving him to think for a minute. 

Just thinking about the way that guy had spoken about you was making his blood boil all over again as he clenched his fists, not caring about the sting that stretching the open wounds caused. 

He hated the fact that he knew other people had definitely spoken about you in worse ways, and thought about you. They would have this sick, twisted, perverted version of you in their dirty little minds, where they only used you and threw you away like a ragdoll. Where they only used you for your perfect body and pretty face before discarding you. 

If he had a dollar for everytime he knew someone was thinking about you, he'd be a rich man. Well, he was already rich, but he'd be filthy rich if that was the case. The worst part was: there was nothing he could do. He was only able to give that man what he deserved because he had heard him say it, but not everyone was dumb enough to say it within earshot of him. 

"Hey, you OK?" you asked, placing a hand on his shoulder as you snapped him out of his thoughts. You had noticed that he was clenching his fists so hard that his nails were digging into the flesh of his palms and leaving red crescents behind. 

"You know, you didn't have to punch him," you said, pushing another chair right next to him and taking his hand. "I am not letting grimy bastards like him get away with saying things like that about you, not at all," he told you. 

You produced a disinfectant wipe from its packet, gently wiping it over his skin, cleaning the blood away from the area. Carlos quietly hissed as it stung, but he had been through a hell of a lot worse, so it was nothing he couldn't deal with. 

"I thought you'd seen him wink at me but I guess not..." You quietly said, rooting through the first aid kit to find bandages. "Sorry, he winked at you? Fucking pussy ass bitch got off easy then. I'll kill him, I swear to god," he seethed, and you struggled to keep his hand still while you wrapped it up. "Baby, don't worry about it, he's gone," you said. 

He was grappling with himself internally, wondering how you could remain so calm after what he had done and said. If he had it his way, Carlos would have hunted him down, punished him for a short while, then sent his body home in multiple parts over the span of a few weeks. "Sure, whatever you say," he reluctantly agreed, resting his hand to make it easier for you. 

You wrapped the soft white cotton around his still slightly bleeding knuckles, before pinning it into place so it wouldn't come off. "Thank you, princess," he smiled, placing a hand on your thigh. "No problem," you told him, resting a head onto his shoulder while you waited for dinner. 

"Have you still got that party on tonight?" You asked, tilting your head to look at him from the side. Shit he thought, having completely forgotten. It was a club that one of his associates owned, and he needed to go just to keep up appearances. Charles and Lando would be there too, so it wouldn't be all that bad. 

"Yeah, yeah I do. I won't stay out too late, don't worry," he told you, kissing you softly on the top of your head. "Can I come with you?" you sweetly asked, knowing he wouldn't want you to go. But, you had the perfect plan to make him say yes. 

"No, baby, no. You know what the people there are like," he dismissed, not wanting you around those people. Sure, Charles and Lando would be there, but they were the only other decent people that would be in your vicinity. "Please? I wanna go and have some fun," you pleaded, batting your eyelashes at him. 

Carlos sighed, not wanting to regret the decision he was about to make. "Fine, you can come, but you have to stay by my side at all times, OK?" he said, already feeling nervous about taking you. But, saying no to you was the hardest thing he would ever do in his life, and he had never done it once. 

"OK, yeah, of course," you happily giggled, glad to go out. Sure, you got to go out and do the day to day stuff, but never without security or Carlos hanging around you constantly. You understood why, since Carlos was in dangerous business with some minacious people, but it would still be nice to let loose for a night.

As soon as you had finished dinner, you ran up the stairs to get ready. Carlos smiled to himself, loving how you liked to get all dolled up whenever you went out. It also meant he would have his work cut out for him, keeping men away from you, but it was worth it if you got to feel like a million dollars. 

Carlos came up to get changed not long later, spotting you pinning your hair into place at your vanity table. "Michael is ready with the car whenever you're ready to go," he told you, speaking about your driver that had been with Carlos since before you had. 

"OK," you confirmed, finishing off your hair and applying a lick of lipstick across your lips. You walked into your wardrobe, scanning the hangers for a dress to wear. Despite the amount that you had, none of them really stood out to you. 

"I like the red one, if that helps," Carlos called out to you, walking in as he tucked his shirt into his slacks. It was like he knew what you were thinking, and he always knew the solution to combat the problem. "Which one?"

"The one you wore for my birthday last year," he smirked, and your cheeks instantly heated up at the thought of what you got up to. You had never enjoyed a club bathroom more, and I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

"Sure, I like your thinking," you nodded, taking it off the hanger and slipping your silk robe off your shoulders. Carlos just watched as you slipped the red fabric over your body. It hugged your curves and made you look like a model. 

You tried to twist your arms around to the back of the dress to zip it up, but Carlos was there in a flash to do the job for you. He braced on hand on your waist as he pulled the zip up towards your neck. When he was done, he placed soft kisses down your neck and across your bare shoulders.

"Hey, hey. Lay off it," you giggled, trying to struggle out of his grasp. 

"But I don't want to," he whined, sucking on your neck and leaving red marks on the skin. 

"Carlos!" you scolded, spinning away from him and looking at yourself in the mirror. The splotches were already turning a deep burgundy, and you ran your fingers over them. "Carlos," you sighed, pouting at him. 

"How else are people going to know you're mine? It's for your own good, I promise," he smirked, swinging his jacket over his shoulders. Carlos walked over to the shoe rack, picking out the shiny black Louboutins that he adored on you.

He placed them in front of you and you stepped into them. They made your legs look longer, and the extra few inches looked good on you. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, Carlos held his arm out to you, and you took it. 

"You look stunning, baby," he complimented, raking his eyes over your figure as you walked. "Thank you, you're looking rather handsome tonight," you returned.

"Thank you,"  he smiled, helping you into the car. Michael drove the pair of you to the club, and there was already a queue down the length of the street to the doors. The security guard let you and Carlos straight through with a nod of his head, pointing you in the direction of the VIP section that was cordoned off with a red rope. 

Carlos threaded an arm around your waist as you weaved through the crowd in an attempt to keep you as close to him as possible. "You stay with me at all times, no matter what. If for whatever reason you can't find me, you stay with Charles or Lando, got it?" he reiterated, leaning down to talk in your ear so you could hear him over the loudness of the club. 

"Yeah, I got it," you nodded, willing to do what he asked since he had reluctantly agreed to bring you with him in the first place. He saw people's eyes rake over your figure for longer than his liking, and he hated how sleazy the guys that came to these places were.

There was not a single good thing about them - they were truly the scum of the Earth that he wished he could squash beneath his feet. They were the reason he hated bringing you anywhere with him, and he didn't want them anywhere near you. 

Carlos was on edge, to say the least, as he gripped onto your waist and tugged you impossibly closer to him. Charles and Lando were easy to spot as they sat together, downing some sort of shot. "Hey, guys," Carlos alerted them of your presence and they stood up to hug you. 

"Hey Carlos, Y/N, you guys want a drink?" Lando shouted over the music, pointing to where the bar was. "Yeah, I'll come with, Y/N wait here with Charles," Carlos instructed, walking over with Lando. He couldn't stop himself from glancing over at you every five seconds as he waited for your drinks, and he hated being away from you. 

Yes, it was only for barely even five minutes, you were in safe hands with Charles and you were in very clear view, but he still felt like he was too far away from you. Lando moved to the other side of Carlos, nodding over to two guys standing next to them at the bar. 

"Listen," he said, and Carlos trained his ears on their conversation. 

"You see the chick in the red dress?" one of them said, pointing in the direction of where you were sat. "Yeah, the one with Leclerc?" the other asked. 

"Yeah, she is a knock-out. I'll bet you fifty that I can get with her tonight," he smirked, hitting his friend in the shoulder. "Isn't she with Leclerc? He won't let you anywhere near her," 

"No, he flies solo. She's probably just some trouncing bimbo after his money, she'll be an easy catch," he said, holding his hand out for him to shake in agreement. 

"I'll take the one on the left, you get the one on the right," Lando said in his ear, eyes glued to the men who were starting to get suspicious. Carlos didn't want to cause a scene, so he had already, unfortunately, ruled out any form of violence. "No, no, I've got it covered," Carlos said, and Lando knew he'd be fine. 

As Carlos approached, the men instantly knew who he was. "The chick in the red dress is pretty cute, you should go for it," he started, giving them a bit of confidence as small, sly smiles formed on their lips. "If you want to die, that is."

For a moment, they looked at him, confusion written all over their features. They really were thick and couldn't connect the dots that had all been laid out perfectly for them. "If you want to keep living your miserable, pitiful, useless little lives, I'd suggest you don't talk about or look at my wife ever again," he told them, suddenly turning serious.

Their faces completely dropped in horror as they backed away. Carlos was using every ounce of self-control that he possessed to not hit them. "S-sorry," one stuttered. Carlos loved to watch them squirm, loved to see the pure fear he could feel radiating from them.

"You should be, now fuck off," Carlos spat, wanting them out of his sight. He turned back to Lando and picked up your drinks, making a beeline straight for where you were with Charles. He sat beside you, so close that your thighs were touching as he wrapped a comfortable arm around your waist. 

Holding onto you made him feel a bit more easy, knowing he could keep you safe if you were closer to him. As the boys settled into casual conversation, you had already finished your drink and were wanting another one. 

As you usually would, you stood from your seat and started to walk towards the bar. "Hey, where are you going?" Carlos asked, grabbing your wrist. 

"I'm going to get a drink, does anyone want one?" you asked, not seeing the meaning behind his question. "Not by yourself you're not, princess," he sighed, going to stand up with you.

"Don't worry about it, you guys got the last round, these are on me," Charles chirped, leaving the table. Carlos pulled you back down beside him as Lando carried on talking. "Remember, you don't go anywhere without me," he muttered in your ear.

No matter what, Carlos always had an arm around your waist or your shoulders, or a hand firmly on your thigh. People needed to see that you were his, and if they couldn't tell by the closeness of how you were sat with him, or the now purple marks down your neck and shoulders, then they'd be able to tell by the grasp he always had on you. 

"I'm going to the bathroom," you told Carlos, taking his hand and standing from your seat again. "OK, I'll come with," he said, glad that you had told him where you were going. You were doing as he'd asked, and that made him happy. 

"You wait here, I'll be out in a second," you said, trying to leave him by the door of the women's bathroom. Once he was sure you were in, he walked in and stood by the sinks. For all he knew, there could have already been some dickhead in there, waiting for some unassuming victim to walk into their lair. 

One of the doors in front of him opened, and it was like the past was walking right out of there and smacking him square in the face. "Carlos! If you wanted to see me, you certainly didn't have to follow me in here," she winked, the pitch of her voice sending uncomfortable shivers down his spine. 

"Marissa," he acknowledged, mentally willing you to hurry up so that he wouldn't have to deal with her for long. "Bit dodgy waiting in the ladies' room, don't you think?" she asked, sauntering up to him and running her hands across his chest. "Someone's been working out-"

"Get off me," he snapped, batting her hands away. Her touch felt agonizing, her fingertips like ice that he could feel through his shirt.  "Aw Carlos, don't be so rude to your old friend, it's not like you're with anyone either," she cooed, her voice turning sultry in a way that was supposed to be seductive. 

Rewind seven or so years, and Carlos would have fallen for her false charms and taken her home, maybe spent some of his hard earned money on her. But now, he had new eyes and saw right through her facade. He was glad to be out of that period of his life, because he was forced to become a better man, and that meant he could have you, and he wouldn't trade it for the world. 

"I'm married, I'm waiting for my wife at the moment," he deadpanned, stepping away from her and folding his arms as a way to block her off from him. "Carlos Sainz? Married? Oh that's a funny one," she giggled, twirling her dark hair around her finger. 

"I'm glad you found it funny, because I'm serious," he said, not even giving her the decency of eye contact as he spoke. "My Carlos would never commit to a relationship, let alone marry someone," she said like she knew him. She might have at one point, but she certainly didn't anymore. 

"I'm not your Carlos, and I never will be again. Now go and enjoy your evening," Carlos told her, trying to get rid of her. "How about you come to my table? We've got drinks, you can bring Norris and Leclerc, I'm sure they'd love to get in on the fun," she said, batting her eyelashes at him. 

"Marissa just piss off will you?" Carlos spat. As if by the grace of god, the other bathroom stall opened and you walked up. "Baby? Who's this?" You asked as if you hadn't heard their entire interaction.  "Hey princess, this is Marissa, old friend of mine," Carlos explained, immediately welcoming you into his embrace. 

"We were a lot more than friends," she smirked, clearly trying to make you mad. But, you knew that Carlos had a past, not a great one, but it was still a past he had been open and honest about. "I'm Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you," you sweetly smiled, ignoring her comment.

You held your left hand for her to shake, your engagement ring shining bright and proud under the harsh lights of the bathroom. To be blunt, the rock that sat on your finger was massive, and unmissable. Marissa clearly caught it in her eyeline and visibly grimaced, before plastering a fake smile on her plastic lips. 

"Likewise," she practically hissed at you, before turning back to Carlos. "Well, it's been nice chatting, but I'm going to have to go. Call me, Carlos. I've missed you," she flirted as one last attempt to make you mad, but you just found it pitiful. 

When you knew she was gone, you turned to Carlos. "Call me, Carlos, I've missed you," you giggled, mocking Marissa's voice. He chuckled along, glad to have you back in his arms. "Come on, let's get back out there," Carlos said, pulling you along with him.

As you approached Lando and Charles again, you heard them cackling. "You will never guess who just came over here," Charles laughed, playfully whacking Lando on the shoulder. 

"Looks like a walking corpse, awful voice, and an absolute slut for you, Carlos!" Lando giggled like a schoolboy. "Marissa?" Carlos said, cocking an eyebrow as if he were genuinely unknowing as to who they were talking about. "Aren't you clever, how'd you guess?" Lando sarcastically chuckled as the two of you sat down.

"Because she just tried to fuck me in the bathroom while I was waiting for Y/N," Carlos told them as he watched their faces turned shocked, yet extremely amused. "Shit no way!" Charles exclaimed.

"Yes way, I could hear her touching him and she said 'Someone's been working out' and I wanted to kill the bitch," you explained, Charles and Lando loudly laughing. Carlos was flabbergasted. He had never heard you say you wanted to kill anyone, or inflict any type of violence towards someone.

You were always so soft and compassionate, but he found this side to you amusing. "She might as well have gotten down on her knees and begged for it. 'Please fuck me Carlos, I'm a desperate whore for it!'" You mimed, causing Charles and Lando to double over due to how hard they were laughing.

Carlos, on the other hand, wanted you to say it again, but without mimicking Marissa. You had never begged for it, because you never had to. He gave you whatever you wanted at the drop of the hat, and most of the time, you never really asked for it. He just gave it to you. He gave anything to you.

You were loving the bitching session you were having with Charles and Lando, Carlos occasionally chipping in with a few words. Taking Carlos' hand, you inspected the red scabs on his knuckles. He was able to take the bandage off before you came out, since they had healed over pretty quickly. 

"Who did you beat this time?" Lando asked with an air of levity, since he knew what Carlos was like. He had a short temper most of the time, especially when it came to anything to do with you. "Just some fuck who needs to wash his mouth out with bleach," Carlos tutted, looking at the red crusts scattered around the skin. 

"I'm surprised the guy is still alive," Charles chuckled, and you never really got used to how braizen they were about ending people's lives. "So am I," Carlos agreed. You all carried on talking, and Carlos could feel eyes on him on occasion.

He looked over, past the red rope to see Marissa with her friends, all smiling and waving. He just rolled his eyes, but he saw there was a group of men with them that they had lured in. He supposed it was supposed to make him jealous, but it just made him feel sorry for them.

The guy's eyes kept on wandering onto you, and he was really wondering if this was going to be the third guy he'd have to have a word with for looking at you. It would be a new record. He stared daggers at the guy, but his eyes weren't averting from you.

He was sick of telling people you were his and he was yours. He figured he might as well just show them. You were completely oblivious to it, chatting merrily with Charles and Lando still.

Charles and Lando had clocked that he was staring someone down, and that always proved that he had something up his sleeve. "Baby, c'mere," he said, tugging you onto his lap by your waist. You straddled his thigh, slightly shifting around to get comfortable. 

None of them seemed to get the hint, as the group of them carried on smirking and chatting while still watching you and Carlos. Marissa winked at Carlos, and he just couldn't take it. Without warning, Carlos captured your lips in a heated kiss. 

He pulled you closer to him as your tongues danced in harmony and your hands kept him with you on the sides of his face. He kept on kissing you, barely giving you any room to breathe, but you didn't care. Kissing him was better than oxygen. 

As you continued, you subconsciously rolled your hips against his thigh, and he had to brace his hands on your waist to keep you still. If you carried on like that, it would send him absolutely feral, and that was not what you needed right now. "Sorry," you smirked as you realised what he was doing. 

"Don't be, not for that," he breathed, his heart pounding out of his chest as the group on the other side of the club finally got what you were doing, and finally started minding their own business. 

You noticed a few of the boy's business associated approaching where you were sat, so you went to move from his lap. "No, you're staying right there," he said lowly in your ear, and you were happy to stay there. 

It felt like he was talking to them for hours, and he probably was. They weren't really talking about anything of importance, since you were in public, but it was business enough to become boring. Carlos' work and deals never really interested you, you just cared that he was enjoying himself. 

You yawned, resting your head on his shoulder and nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. You had enjoyed your evening, but you were starting to become a bit weary. "You tired?" Carlos asked quietly. "Just a little bit," you confirmed as his fingers traced up and down your spine. 

"We can go home, Charles and Lando are coming back with us because we've got some stuff we need to talk about, but we can go," he told you.

"It's OK, you can carry on talking to people, I don't mind," you yawned again, still clinging onto him. Sure, it was loud in there, but you didn't really mind. You were safe and comfortable with Carlos, so you weren't really bothered. 

"No, we're going home. My baby is tired, and she is top priority," he said, noticing how your eyes were slightly reddened due to tiredness. You didn't protest, simply letting him stand you on the floor. He said his goodbyes, and walked out with you, Charles and Lando. 

Just as you got out to the pavement, where Michael was waiting for the four of you, you heard a shriek and you audibly groaned. "Carlos! Can you drive me home? I don't have a ride," Marissa appeared, attaching herself to his other arm. 

"Get off me," he said, swatting her away from him like a fly on the wall. 

"What, so you're just going to leave me here, with all of these people who want to take advantage of me?" she cried, scurrying along behind you.

"If it'll get rid of you, then that sounds like the perfect plan," he scoffed, opening the front passenger door for you to get in, but you didn't budge from where you were stood. You weren't the possessive type like Carlos was, since you knew he was completely loyal to you, but Marissa was getting on your nerves. 

"Please? I'll reward you," she hummed, stepping closer to him. You were getting sick of it, and you couldn't hold yourself back. "Get your slutty ass away from my husband, whore," you spat, stepping in between them.  

Marissa's eyes were clouded with darkness as she turned to look at you. "I think you'll find that your husband loves a whore," she countered, closing the gap between the two of you. 

"I'm sure one of those men you were throwing yourself at tonight would love to take you home, but they probably find you insufferable as well," you said, crossing your arms as she got ever more close to you. 

It was as if the events unfolded in slow motion, as her arm raised, ready to bitch slap you in the face. Carlos was quicker though, grabbing her wrist. "You've seen what I've done to people, so don't think I'm scared to add you to the long list of individuals who have fallen to my mercy," he told her, and her face was priceless.

Carlos liked it when people were scared of him, and he especially liked it when the people were people who he thoroughly disliked. "Alright, alright, whatever. Someone else will gladly take me home," she scoffed, walking away.

"Who are you and what have you done with my wife?" Carlos asked, holding the car door open for you again. "Oh I'm still here, she just got on my final nerve. That bitch put her hands on what's mine, and I can't have that," you smirked, hopping in and closing the door behind you. 

He'd love to hear you talk like that more often. He didn't get to see that side of you regularly, but when he did, it made this tiny thing in his brain tick.

Charles, Lando and Carlos all clambered into the back seat as Michael pulled away from the club. The car ride was serene compared to the bustling atmosphere of the club, and it had gotten completely dark outside. 

Once you were home, Charles and Lando went to sit in the living room and Carlos escorted you upstairs. For a second, you just stood in the middle of the room, not mustering up the energy to undress yourself. Carlos knew you too well, his hands finding the zip of your dress. 

"Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling you backwards so that you were closer to him. 

"Yeah," you nodded, appreciating that he was asking, even if he knew you would always say yes. "Thank you," he softly said, tugging the zip all the way down to the small of your back, the garment falling off your body into a pool around your feet. 

"Do you want to put this on for now?" he asked, unhooking your robe from the back of the door. "Yeah, thank you," you said as he slotted your arms through the sleeves and tied the thin belt around your waist. "No problem, baby," he smiled, leading you over to the bed and gently sitting you down on the edge of it. 

Carlos sunk to his knees in front of you, taking your left foot into his hand and slipping your heel off of you. He moved his hands over to the other foot, taking your other heel off. He leant forward, gently kissing the inside of your calf, his lips soft against your skin. 

His lips moved up, to the inside of your knee, then your thigh, before he stood and leant over to kiss you on the forehead. "What do you want to sleep in?" he asked, standing in front of you with his arms folded. 

He had taken his suit jacket off, draping it over a chair in the corner. He had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and he had undone his top two buttons. He looked downright delicious, but you couldn't help but want to see what was underneath the blue cotton. 

It clung to every muscle of his arms and chest, and his cheeks were flushed a slight red due to the alcohol he had drunk. "I want this," you said, tugging at the material of his shirt. Yes, you did want the shirt, but you also wanted an excuse to see his brilliant physique. 

Carlos just chuckled, seeing right through your facade, but he did as you asked anyway. He didn't say anything, he untucked it from his slacks and unbuttoned the rest of it, shrugging it off his shoulders and handing it to you. "Thank you, baby," you smirked, taking it from him. 

You took your robe off and slipped your arms through the rolled up sleeves, only doing a few of the bottom buttons up. As you sat there, you couldn't help but stare at him. Perfectly sculpted muscles under lusciously tanned skin, the perfect combination. And it looked damn good on him.

"If you wanted me shirtless, all you had to do was ask, princess," he teased, a smug smile dancing across his face as he noticed your staring. He was gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see that, but he knew he was. And he knew that his girl knew it too. 

"You're not going to do anymore of those buttons up?" he smirked, not even attempting to hide the fact that he was staring. He would have rather looked without the shirt in his way, but Charles and Lando were downstairs, so he needed to remain calm. 

"No, it's comfier this way," you smiled as he disappeared into the bathroom and reappeared with a pack of makeup wipes in his hand. He sat beside you, gently wiping away the makeup from your face. 

He held your chin with his fingers as he tilted your head up to look at him, making it easier for him to get everything off. "There we go," he softly said, inspecting your face to make sure he had gotten everything. "Can I take these out?" he asked, fingers tapping at the pins in your hair. 

"Yeah, course," you confirmed, tilting your head down this time. He pulled the pins out of place, your hair falling all around your face. Carlos moved to sit behind you, splitting your hair into three strands and plaiting the sections and tying them. 

"There you go, now you are all ready for bed," he smiled as you shuffled over to your side of the bed. He pulled the duvet over your body, kissing you on the forehead. "I'll be up as soon as I can, the stuff with Charles and Lando shouldn't take too long," he told you. 

"No rush, take your time," you mumbled, your eyes falling shut already. Carlos collected another shirt from the wardrobe and turned the lights off. As he walked down the stairs, Charles and Lando saw that he was buttoning up the other shirt he had to get. 

"What were you up to up there, Carlos?" Lando mischievously giggled, leaning forward in his seat. "Now we know why you had to take Y/N upstairs and she couldn't go by herself in her own house," Charles chipped in, also giggling along. 

"If that was the case, I sure as hell wouldn't be back down here with you two. Now, what do you want to drink?" Carlos asked, approaching the drinks trolley that sat in the corner of the room. "Whatever alcoholic substance you'll give me," Lando said, and Carlos poured three glasses of some amber liquid for them.

"Perfect, now let's talk business," Charles smiled, taking his glass and handing one of the others to Lando. "So, transport is sorted, but we might have to make some changes to the personnel carrying it out, since the guys I talked to earlier today are thick as pig shit," Carlos explained.

"I've got the cargo waiting in the port until we send for it to be moved. I've had it all tested and counted every morning and every night since it's been there," Charles told them, and they carried on with their business talk. 

You were still upstairs, tossing and turning. It had felt like hours since you had gotten into bed, but it had only been half an hour when you checked the clock on your bedside table. You had slept without Carlos plenty of times, but tonight was just one of those nights where you didn't want to. 

Carlos had said he wasn't going to be too long, but you thought that the time you were waiting for was starting to constitute as long. There was no use in just waiting for an answer, so you shuffled out of bed and buttoned up your (Carlos') shirt a bit more. 

You padded down the stairs as you heard them talking about yachts or something. Whatever it was, they seemed to have strayed away from business, but you never know. They could have started selling yachts.

"Carlos," Charles alerted him to your presence as you descended. He suddenly didn't have a single brain cell focused on business, he was solely thinking about why you would've come downstairs. One part of his brain started to worry that something was wrong, but you looked fine. 

"Eyes off, boys," he quietly said, Charles and Lando averting their eyes from your shirt-clad figure. They knew how protective and possessive Carlos was with you, and they respected it. He didn't want anyone else seeing his girl the way he did.  "Sorry to be a pest, I was just wondering what time you were coming to bed?" You asked, hoping he would just come up right away, but you weren't expecting anything. "Soon, I promise," he confirmed. He knew you didn't sleep overly well without him.

When he was holding you in his arms as you slept, you felt completely safe and like nothing could possibly harm you. Carlos had promised to protect you until he took his final breath, and you believed him. You had grown so used to being around him all the time, that you never wanted to be away from him. 

"OK, sorry to interrupt again," you apologised, turning away and heading back for the stairs. "Don't be sorry, baby, it's OK," he told you, watching until you disappeared upstairs. Carlos finished up with whatever needed doing, and he said his goodnights to Charles and Lando. 

"So, we've got the shipment moving on Thursday, set to arrive in Madrid on Saturday, and I'll be at the halfway point in Lyon, Carlos will be in Madrid, Lando will be at the start in Prague," Charles confirmed, outlining the basics of the big move that was happening. 

"Yeah, and I'll be meeting you guys in Madrid on the Saturday as well to check up on everything," Lando nodded. Carlos had planned for you two to spend a couple of days in Madrid after everything had happened, and he was looking forward to the days away.

"You guys can hang around for a bit if you want, help yourself to anything and leave whenever," Carlos said, standing from his chair and leaving his glass on the table. Yes, Charles and Lando may have been his business associates, but they were also his closest friends that he trusted, so leaving them in the house wasn't an issue. They all had each other's backs, and were always there when needed. 

"I'm here now, Miss Needy," he teased, opening the bedroom door and closing it behind him. "You didn't have to come up earlier than you planned, you know?" you sighed, rolling to face away from him. You didn't want to see that smug smirk of his, even when it was plastered on his handsome face.

"Well I did. If you want me, you have me at anytime of the day, no matter what, princess. But I know you already know that," he told you, clambering into bed behind you. "Goodnight," he mumbled, instantly feeling tired as he got comfortable.

Carlos wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you as close to him as he possibly could, nuzzling his head into your neck as he softly kissed it. "Goodnight, Carlos," you muttered through that darkness, already feeling more at ease with his mere presence. 

You may have lived in a dark, definitely illegal world, but you wouldn't trade it for anything. Carlos' job was less than desirable to you, but he seemed to enjoy the thrill, so you joined him for the ride, and you always would. 

A/N - OK so I absolutely adored writing this, I don't know if this is very 'mafia', but I still thoroughly enjoyed myself. I don't know why I'm suggesting this, since I'm already really behind on this, but would you want a part 2 in Madrid with some... Mafia drama? I won't elaborate, just lmk! Requests are open, love you! 💖

|masterlist|

[ncteez]

it’s a beautifully crisp friday morning and i am thinkin about lying on your back, knees to ur chest and having dino pathetically fuck ur thighs because he forgot to bring a condom to the pussy appointment. that’s it. that’s the thought. he’s close enough to feel the heat radiate from your cunt, close enough to accidentally bump the tip against your clit when he gets too excited, but not close enough to feel your walls hug him with each thrust :( pathetic chan :( PATHETIC. CHAN. :( - 🍿 x

WORDCOUNT ― 2.6k

WARNINGS ― this could be uncomfortable for some because i do have him whining/begging to hit it raw, so some could say there’s a form of manipulation at play.

CONTENT ― chan had a real fucking bad day and needs your hole to heal it, begging to hit it raw, obsessing over thighs, reader has thighs that are enough for him to knead, grinding but it’s only raw on chan’s end. 

not proof read. 

~

Chan knows the rules. No condom, no sex. 

That’s never been an issue to him, seeing as how you’re both fucking other people pretty consistently. There’s been talk of getting regularly tested, even more talk about how a relationship is most definitely not on the table so, really, you requiring a condom does not bother him in the slightest. 

If anything to Chan, you’re a comfort fuck. When he’s had a bad day or too deep in his head, he comes to you, or on you, whatever. 

There’s all sorts of personalities he shares with people in bed, but you’re the one who gets this side of him. You’re the one he trusts in terms of rules, and he knows that you’d never over step set boundaries with feelings outside of simply caring for another person and loving the way they fuck you. 

Today, though? Oh, today. 

It appears the universe is against him and his happiness. First, his tire blows on the freeway and he had to maneuver to the side without being pulverized by the other cars. Second, he gets to work late due to that fucking tire and is immediately laid off due to “internal restructuring”. Lastly, he decides to take the bus home and upon sitting for far too long, he realizes he took the wrong fucking line. 

Naturally, he finds himself calling you and hopping on the next bus that leads to your place. He doesn’t explain his day, as usual, he simply states without even a “hello”, that he needs to see you now.

Upon arriving, he’s exhausted, worn down, and very nearly about to ram his head into the closest wall. Thankfully, you’re the saving grace for him, like always. The one good thing that can happen on a day like this is getting between your legs and releasing all of his emotions through that. 

Until the universe deals another blow. 

“Fuck.” He huffs, already kneeling between your legs and prepared to start that sweet, sweet, release of emotions. 

“That sounded detrimental.” You comment, looking up at him from your angle against the pillows, arms reaching out for him and stopping mid way. “What’s up?” 

“I didn’t bring condoms.” He sighs, already feeling his length soften at the very idea of not being able to get what he needs this evening. 

“Relax, I have some in the drawer.” You rolls your eyes.

He perks up, keeping himself between your legs but bending his long body over you and opening up the drawer. 

Nothing. 

“Where?” He asks, rummaging through your drawer. 

“Are they not there?” You lean up, turning to look for yourself. 

Damn, you must really be busy to already be out of condoms by now. 

“Oh, I guess I’m out.” You chuckle, shrugging at him and the way he leans back and keeps himself between your legs. 

“Please,” He immediately starts. “Just this once.” 

You shake your head immediately, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Once always turns into again, and again, and again.” You argue, shoving him back by your foot and feeling his body tense up in an attempt to stay in place between your legs. 

“You’re on birth control right? Please, I don’t think you understand how badly I need this today.” 

You pretend like you’re thinking, but the answer will always be no. 

“Chan, you’re not fucking me raw. Come prepared next time.” 

He sighs in defeat, not wanting to push too hard, accepting your “no” at face value but still wallowing in his own pity over it. 

Then, his eyes trail to your panties, sitting nicely with a little spot at the seat of them, showing him that you were ready to take it had he come with everything he needed for this. He could cry, maybe. The universe is truly against him. 

His eyes continue to stare, trailing up and down your legs. His brain is really trying to comprehend that he’s about to have to stand up and off of this bed, and get another bus home. He’s jobless, carless for the moment, and now, perhaps the worst of it all, he’s pussy-less.

You watch him as he stares, unsure if he’s aware of the pout on his face. You’ve never seen him so desperate for it. Still, no is no and he’s going to have to figure something out. You’re not asking why he needs to fuck you so badly today, despite the curiosity, you’re also not going to say no if he finds a work around to this. 

“I should just leave, then, I guess.” He says in a solemn voice, still not budging from between your legs. 

“You’re really just going to act like foreplay doesn’t exist?” You try to encourage him to realize there are other fun things to do outside of just, like, the actual penetration. 

He doesn’t look you in the eye as his brain spills with thoughts. He needs to fuck. He could ask for a handjob, or even a blowjob, but none of that compares to the way your pussy squeezes around him. Nothing compares to the slick, warm heat that spills around him when he’s pushing in, or sliding out. Even with a condom, the sensation is something he chases on days like this and– wait. 

Legs. Thighs. 

His eyes shoot back to your thighs, and his hands follow. Gripping the back of them, kneading the flesh there. Then, there’s a smile from you, and a twitch in his pants. 

“Can I–” He starts, feeling a bit pathetic to even ask such a thing when your pussy is right there, and there’s a gas station that definitely sells condoms a few blocks away if he wanted to walk there and expose himself to you that he’s currently at rock bottom. “God, please,” He continues, not quite asking the question but imagining it nonetheless. 

“Hm?” You hum out to him sweetly, feeling his hands knead at your thighs and sensing his urgency for this. 

More urgency than usual. 

He doesn’t respond with his words, and instead dips his head a bit while both hands push your legs together, mostly to examine how tight he can get your thighs to squeeze. He’s pleased by the image, pulling his head back up and looking at you again, with a pout he doesn’t realize he has. 

“You want to fuck my thighs, don’t you?” 

The sound that comes from his mouth in response is, arguably, the most pathetic and arousal-laced sound you think you’ve ever heard. All of it because of non-penetrative sex? That little nod he gives is much bigger in your head, it’s not a little nod, it’s a pleading, a begging nod. 

And so, you give him what he so clearly needs, with a pleased smile on your face. 

First, you squeeze your thighs together tighter for him, bracing your hands under your bent knees and allowing him to press them up and against your chest. Then, you hear the muffled sounds of him shoving his pants down to his own thighs. 

It’s strange, really, feeling his cock raw against you for the first time. Given, you’ve gone down on him, you’ve given him handjobs before too, but this is the first time he’s been entirely bare below your waist. 

The head of his cock is warm when it prods against your thighs, but the sound that he makes somehow makes you feel warmer. The grip of his hands holding your thighs in place, the look in his eye when he manages to love this just as much as when he’s actually sliding into you. 

All of it is warm, like you can feel the way he uses you as a release that’s more than just sexual desire.

For him, he doesn’t quite care that he’s going a bit insane right now. He’s never slid his cock between or into anything without the aid of someone’s arousal, spit, or lubricant. The pre-cum spilling out of him right now is more than enough to lube your thighs to perfection. Shining in the light of your bedroom with each slide of his cock. 

You can feel the way he struggles to push past how tightly you’re squeezing your legs together, and fuck, does he feel it too.

His hands grip you harder as he fucks through the small space you offer him. He can tell you’re enjoying yourself, with that smug little grin on your lips as you watch him struggle not to lose his composure. 

He stays focused on that release, fucking forward, then back, hard and long thrusts that would typically reach deep inside of you had he brought a condom with him on this dreadful day. To be fair though, it’s not like he wakes up, packs a condom, and expects to fuck someone by the end of it. 

He continues this, feeling your legs loosen and tense, offering so many sensations that aren’t quite what he needs, but somehow just enough to please him and have him falling more and more in love with the act of fucking a beautiful pair of thighs. 

Maybe it’s because it's raw, and there’s no barrier to lighten the sensations, or maybe he’s finally gone insane, but fuck. The pre-cum is practically pouring from him as he continues, causing his length to slide in all sorts of ways. No longer just through your thighs, but up and down them too.

Down and down, his cock slips, still fucking forward at a rate that makes him sweat only slightly. Then, he feels it. 

The heat radiating from your core beneath those panties. God, it’s so close. He could pull your panties to the side and slip it in right now if you’d give him the confirmation. He could make you feel so good, and he would feel just as good if–

“I can feel how wet you are,” He comments in a slightly choked voice. “is this enough for you?” 

You think hard about that. On your own terms, seeing him enjoy himself so blatantly is enough to want him to fuck you, with or without a condom. But, you can’t just let this end right now. He looks too pretty when he’s pathetic. You can see that he’s practically on the verge of tears right now, fucking your thighs in a way he wishes he could fuck you. 

“Maybe,” You smile, loosening your thighs only slightly to let his cock fall from between them and land against your clothed core. “It seems to be enough for you.” 

He glances at you before staring down at the way you squeeze your thighs together again, essentially locking his cock directly against your wet panties. Without intention, he fucks forward and hears your little gasp. 

This, this is definitely enough for you. And him? It’s enough, too. 

“Yeah?” He asks, fucking forward and back again, sliding his cock against your throbbing clit through your panties. “Is this what you need from me?”

You’d argue that you need more, but you enjoy the way he seems to be cocky about it right now. So, you nod, relishing in the slide against you. 

If he wasn’t going insane before, he definitely is now. With the warmth of you radiating against him, the slick soaking through your panties and coating his cock all the way from the underside of the head to the base– his pre-cum is nothing but a mess against you right now because of it. 

Each sound you make when he lends you a rough thrust forward, each little reach of your hands for his strong arms still holding you in place with a bruising grip, it’s driving him to forget he’s not fucking you at all.

The fabric between the two of you acts enough as a barrier, despite his cum seeping through them when he finally gives himself the release he’s been so desperate for. 

“Like that,” He groans, tightly fucking himself into the little space you provide between your thighs and clit, urging you to squeeze around him much like your pussy would be doing. “Yeah, just like that.” He continues, pouting once again as he chases the orgasm that’s already vibrating through him. 

You smile through it, the sensation of him riding out his orgasm and spilling all over you is enough to get you off in a split second if he were able to focus on hitting your clit every single time, but he doesn’t. His body stutters and shakes through it, and the image alone is enough for you to feel satisfied this time. 

And then, there’s nothing but silence and deep breaths from him as he pulls his aching length from your thighs and he rolls onto your side. The relief of feeling your legs fall back to the bed is definitely just as arousing to your body. Not exactly sexually arousing, but honestly, it felt so good to stretch them back out after holding them in place for so long that, well, your body may as well decide to orgasm right then and there after all that. 

But it doesn’t, and you turn to look at Chan with curiosity instead. 

“You know, you don’t give me a lot of time to prepare for our little meetups. If I’d known more than twenty minutes before you’d be here, I would’ve checked for condoms.” 

He groans, still feelings waves of release in his body, ears still ringing. 

“It was more last minute for me this time too,” He admits, finally able to take in a full and satisfying breath. “It’s been a rough day.” 

You tilt your head and tick your tongue. 

“One of these days I’m gonna start asking why you always come to me during a bad day, you know that, right?”

He nods, it’s kind of your right to know why he’s so desperate when he’s with you. 

“Yeah,” He nods along with you. “You never really ask though, which is why I keep coming to you when it happens.” 

You take that at face value. He probably doesn’t want to talk about a bad day, and you, for some reason, feel prideful in not asking because you assume everyone else would probably force him to talk about it, rather than fuck the frustration away. 

“Would it be rude to say that, well,” You pause, realizing it would be very rude, but you’re gonna say it anyway. “I like when you have bad days.”

He deadpan stares at you, seemingly offended, but definitely understanding of why you’d say such a thing. 

“You say that like I just fucked you.” He laughs, shaming himself. 

“Well, for a while there, it genuinely felt like you were.” You admit this time, eyeing him up and down. 

“Yeah, it kind of did, didn’t it?” He smiles, readying himself to stand on his legs despite them still being jelly right now. 

“What, you’re already leaving?” You ask.

“Yeah, I kind of need to check the bus schedules and make sure I get on the right line home.”

Something clicks in your head. Chan, who usually drives to your place, is now taking the fucking bus. Oh, but you don’t even know half of what he’s gone through today. 

“I could drive you home, you know.” 

He was going to refuse, because how much more pathetic would he look being driven home by his very own fuck buddy? Yet, he finds himself nodding. 

And you, well, you find yourself driving to the gas station with him instead. Grabbing that box of condoms, wiggling your eyebrows at him, and dragging him straight back to your place. 

After all, you didn’t quite get your release yet. 

[onceuponastory]

protective - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: Bucky gets protective over Y/N during a mission. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: A guy being creepy, reader being slightly uncomfortable and Bucky wanting to fight the guy. As always, if I miss any triggers please let me know! Notes: This is very loosely based on El Tango De Roxanne from Moulin Rouge because I love that scene & that song. Also I was thinking about a Moulin Rouge AU so lemme know your thoughts. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own. Thank you to @staticscreenwriting for my divider!

“I don’t like this.” Bucky hisses, throwing a hard stare across the room. Nervously, he taps his feet. Although, when he sees Y/N standing there, leaning against the bar as she sips from her drink, his face softens ever so slightly, and a small smile grows on his face. But once he remembers what they’re doing here, his hard stare returns. He really doesn’t like this. Not one bit.

“Don’t worry Buck. She’s got this.” Steve’s voice crackles over the headset. “Besides, she has a wire on, so we’ll be able to hear everything, and we can step in if we need to.” Despite how his words are trying to be supportive, Bucky doesn’t feel comforted at all by his words. 

Tonight, they’re on another mission, ready to stop some corrupt agent intent on causing chaos. And Y/N was sent undercover to charm him and try to extract information because she’s not as publicly known as the other Avengers. It’s not the first time Y/N’s done something like this, but this time, Bucky hates the thought of sending her out there alone. From what Bucky’s heard, despite the man’s kind facade, he’s extremely cruel when he needs to be, and he has no issue with stepping on people to get what he wants. And no doubt he would do just the same to Y/N if she ever got in his way. Despite how experienced she is, the thought of Y/N stuck there with him alone makes his stomach churn.

“Sam, do you have visuals on Y/N?”

“Yes, Bucky. I did the first time you asked, and I still do now.” Before Bucky even asks his next question, Sam answers it. “Yes, I’m keeping an eye on her.”

“Good.”

Bucky knows his two best friends are worried about Y/N too, but he also knows that they think he’s overreacting slightly that Y/N is going to be perfectly safe. Bucky just hopes they’re right. Y/N is incredibly skilled at going undercover, and there’s no doubt she’ll do just as well today and get the information they need. It’s just that Bucky cares too much about her to let her go into these dangerous situations alone. At least not without her knowing that he’s there on the other end if she needs him. He’s been in love with her for as long as he can remember, and the last thing he wants is for her to be put in danger. His gaze goes back to Y/N, and he sighs. She looks gorgeous tonight, dressed to the nines. But that’s not too difficult. To Bucky, Y/N always looks gorgeous. Maybe one day he’ll actually find the guts to tell her the truth, instead of standing here all forlorn and lovesick, as Sam and Steve call it.

“Showtime.” Sam whispers, cutting through his thoughts. Bucky watches as the man enters the room, making a beeline straight to the bar. Y/N notices him too, and makes a point of brushing up against him slightly as she requests another drink. The man looks over her, pointedly staring at her chest and her ass. Bucky’s jaw clenches.

“Let me get that.” The man grins, placing his hand on Y/N’s wrist and reaching out with his card before Y/N can do anything. “Can’t let a pretty girl like you pay for your own drink now, can I?” Bucky suppresses a desire to vomit. Creep.

“Thank you.” Y/N smiles, batting her eyelashes slightly. The sight makes Bucky’s stomach flutter, the same way it usually does when he sees Y/N. Sometimes, Bucky likes to imagine that Y/N’s flirting is for him, and that she feels the same way he does for her. But for real this time.

As Y/N and the man find a table and start chatting, Bucky continues to watch, hating every moment. The way the man leers at her, a sick smirk on his face the entire time, makes Bucky’s stomach churn even more. He knows what assholes like him do, and he hates every part of it.

“Can you cool it with the glare, Buck? I’m not even in the same room as you and I can feel it burning through the wall.” Bucky ignores Sam’s comment and instead works through an action plan. A way to rescue Y/N in case she needs help. As he does so, he keeps a cautious eye on the pair, just in case. As she laughs along with the man, Bucky can pick up on the awkwardness in her laugh. He swears the noise makes his stomach twist. When the man presses a kiss to her cheek and a small flicker of unease crosses Y/N’s face, Bucky swears his heart almost stops.

In a moment, he jumps up, ready to charge in, to peel the man’s arms off of Y/N and drag him away from her. But before he can, Y/N takes control once more, changing the subject. Yet still, Bucky keeps a wary eye on the man. He flexes his metal arm, ensuring he’s ready to jump in and protect Y/N.

Whatever the cost.

Thankfully though, only a few hours later (albeit longer than Bucky would’ve liked), the agent suddenly has to leave, bringing the mission to a halt. And soon, Y/N is back safe and sound in the compound with the others. 

“Well done Y/N.” Steve praises, and Sam nods.

“Yeah. Great job.” Bucky murmurs, his tone causing Y/N to raise a brow.

“Guys, can I speak to Bucky alone for a moment, please?” she asks. Glancing at each other, Steve and Sam nod and leave the room. “So. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” he shrugs. Scoffing, Y/N rolls her eyes. 

“Bucky, there’s no point in lying. I know you.” She’s right, she does know him really well. Sometimes, Bucky swears that Y/N knows him better than anyone else. Even better than Steve. There’s no way he could even try to hide his feelings from her. “And besides, you were staring daggers out the window the whole ride back. Now, tell me what the problem is.”

“I just… when you were with that guy, I was worried about you, okay?!”

“Aww Bucky, you really do care about me!” she grins, giggling like it’s just a joke. But little does she know, Bucky doesn’t see it that way.

“I do care about you! Fuck Y/N, I care about you more than anything in this world, and the thought of that… that sicko being anywhere near you, o-or laying his hands on you makes me feel sick!” He exclaims, the words slipping out without another thought. “I know how good you are at going undercover, but the last thing I want is you getting hurt.” Y/N’s eyes widen.

“Oh… oh.” As silence falls amongst the pair, Bucky’s heart pounds. Why did it all have to slip out like that? Maybe keeping it in for so long has finally taken its toll. Y/N stares back at him, still silent. Bucky blushes, his cheeks turning scarlet. Now he looks like an idiot. A total lovesick idiot. 

“I’ll, um. I’ll go.” 

“No, wait.” Y/N stops him as he starts to leave, reaching out and touching his arm. “I-I never knew you felt that way about me, Bucky. Thank you.” she smiles, and Bucky nods.

“Y/N, I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember.” he admits, chuckling slightly. “You’re very special to me, Y/N.”

“And you’re special to me too, Buck. I’m so glad to have someone like you looking out for me.” Before Bucky can even respond, she presses a kiss to his cheek, his stubble lightly grazing against her lips. This almost sends Bucky’s heart into overdrive, and he swears his skin tingles from where she kissed him. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, and I had no idea you felt the same way about me.” she whispers, her words making Bucky’s mouth drop open. “I need to go type out my mission report, but maybe we can grab dinner afterwards? I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.” Bucky nods. And then she heads down the hallway, waving goodbye. Even after she disappears from sight, Bucky still stares down the hall. He cups his cheek, still feeling it burn from when she kissed him. Still dumbstruck at how Y/N likes him back. A goofy grin overtakes his face. 

Despite how badly tonight started, he’s never been as happy as he is right now.

Please follow @onceuponastory-library​ and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

[shanastoryteller]

Happy pride! Can you write more of that god!Zagreus fic?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Thanatos guides Megara to the place known as the Prince’s Court, stepping into the throne room to see his dark head and fiery laurels bent over a long table. Clustered around him are those whom he used to rest amongst battling his way through the underworld – not just Sisyphus, but the nymph Eurydice and the warrior Patroclus.

Barely more than acquaintances, really, and yet Zagreus has folded them into his confidence, a confidence extended neither to him nor Megara. Again.

He does not tell them when he intends to escape the underworld nor does he tell them when he cracks it open and burrows into a place of his own making. What did those three do that he hadn’t?

Zagreus looks over, smiles, then sees Meg and frowns. Instead of addressing her, he turns to Patroclus and says, “We might as well just tell Achilles outright at this point. If we’re not quick about it he’ll find out from someone else, which is probably best to be avoided.”

“I think it would serve him right, actually,” Patroclus answers, a small smile curling around the edges of his mouth.

Megara lets out a shriek, angry enough to earn her status as a Fury on that alone, and launches herself at Zagreus whips first.

Everyone else scatters, even Patroclus backing up with his hands raised even though he’s a good enough warrior to at least slow Megara down. Thanatos thinks uncharitable thoughts about loyalty to their god and king even though the truth of it is that they’re smart enough to keep from being dragged into the middle of a lover’s quarrel.

Zagreus lets the whips hit him and yet for once he does not bleed.

No rich mortal blood falls from his skin, instead the whips slamming into him and then sliding off.

“Meg, don’t be mad,” he says soothingly. “I just didn’t want to put you in an awkward position-”

“You’re not bleeding,” she says blankly, her rage banked by confusion.

He glances down on his arms. “Oh, oops. Do you want me to? I can, but also we could talk this out.”

“Or move the battle to somewhere that won’t harm my architecture,” Sisyphus pipes up. Eurydice elbows him, looking horrified, while Patroclus just remains amused.

Zagreus inclines his head in their direction. “Or that.”

“Don’t give me a reason to start with you,” Megara hisses at Sisyphus. “Zagreus, what the fuck is happening? What’s with you?” She storms forward to grab his arm, yanking it around, searching his skin for some break. “You’ve always bled. Even when we were children.”

He softens, offering his wrist to her mouth and her very sharp teeth.

Megara grips it, dragging it forward and biting into him as if he’s the first bite of a feast and she’s starving.

Zagreus winces, but leaves his wrist in her mouth. Thanatos feels warm and uncomfortable all over, something intimate there that he always avoids seeing between them. She releases him and her teeth are red with his blood and blood falls down his arm in rivulets. “I’m still me. I still bleed. I just have a little bit more control over it these days. I’m the god of blood. I’m made to bleed.”

[cheesec4kee]

they’re just nostalgia ⸺ CL¹⁶ ୨୧

you’ve always been the light in charles life. but he knows that if he wants to beat his childhood rival, he’ll have to let you go— even if it’s hard for him, he knows he can’t afford any distractions.

[ warnings ! ] : gn reader, brief mentions of alcohol, angst-ish ??, use of y/n once, poorly written

[ a/n ] : first time writing angst, so please don’t judge LMAO. based on the song ‘answer’ by Tyler the creator, and I initially wrote this as a joke but I needed something to post so there’s that. . anw hope u enjoy this !! (reblogs very much appreciated btw !!)

⸺ angst under the cut

he fumbled with the keys in his hands, hastily unlocking the door to the apartment that he shared with you. he closed the door quietly, sucking in a breath as he sees you sat on the couch— reading a book.

he’s greeted with a smile, and it nearly broke him. he loves you— he truly does, but not over his dream. to beat his childhood rival. he simply couldn’t let his efforts go of waste.

“how was practice?” you questioned, a soft smile tugging the corner of your lips, as he watched you close your book and set it down beside you on the couch.

“it was.. it was okay.” he mumbled with hands in his pockets as he avoided your gaze. he felt bad. you were everything he ever wanted— he felt stupid for even doing this. for choosing his dream over you.

“hey— uh, I think..”

“I think we should break up,” he murmured, his voice a mere octave above a whisper. shifting his weight from one leg to another uncomfortably, he cleared his throat awkwardly.

you were the light and joy in his life, and he knows it. you’re the only thing he looks forward to seeing after a shitty race, or after a bad qualifying. he’d search for you in the crowd, wanting to engulf himself purely in the warmth you provide.

his words hung in the air, the tension of emotions thick.

“why? what went wrong?” you managed to muster out, your voice coming out shakier than you thought it would be.

he stayed silent for a minute, before clearing his throat— his eyes boring into yours. “I found someone else,” he lies, his gaze softening— but you could tell that it had a distant look, like his mind was wandering elsewhere.

his words were like daggers being thrown on your heart, piercing right through it.

as tears welled up in your eyes, a wave of emotions washed over you. confusion, insecurity, and betrayal. you couldn’t help but start to question your worth to him. did you really mean something to him all this time, or was that all just a lie? you knew Charles was popular among the ladies. he was a good looking man, surrounded with women with scarcely credible beauty.

but you were hoping that the bond you two had was special, that it could resist any temptations you, or Charles had towards any other men or women. Charles was a beacon of light in your life, and you were his. you truly did believe that the connection between you two was strong enough to overcome any obstacles.

with a heavy heart, you knew you had to face the harsh reality of his confession. you knew you had to muster up the strength within you to let him go.

you couldn’t force someone to love you, after all.

“I swear, I loved you at some point but—”

“..I understand.” you cut him off and wiped your tears, swallowing back the tears threatening to spill out.

“I’ll pack my things.”

for the past few days after the breakup, Charles struggled to get rid of the memories that you left in his apartment. he struggled to get rid of the paintings the two of you made for fun, hell— he struggled to change his lock screen which was you.

he kept making excuses, excuses to not remove that little widget in his phone that was a photo of you— the photo he took secretly.

he could only stare at his lock screen, the guilt washing over him whenever he turned on his phone to see you. he could feel the nostalgia, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

he’s standing on the podium, lifting and glancing at the trophy he earned while reminiscing the memories and moments the two of you shared together, he could imagine how proud you would’ve looked at this very moment. he felt stupid for wishing that you were here even though he was the one who broke things off.

winning doesn’t feel the same without you. he misses the way you’d squeeze him so tight when he won, the heat radiating off of you— he doesn’t feel as happy as he usually would. it felt like that winning simply wasn’t worth it without you there to congratulate him.

he has the urge to message you. to ask you how you’ve been, if you were doing much better without him, but he knew he couldn’t. not after what he did to you.

he walks off the podium, his clothes reeking of champagne as he heads to the garage— before noticing his teammate, a wide smile on his face as he comes to congratulate him.

“you did well out there,” Carlos grins, wrapping a arm around Charles shoulder, squeezing him slightly.

Charles simply smiles, muttering a quiet ‘thanks’— though Carlos knows something was up. it was obvious for everyone that Charles seemed odd, seemed distant.

“you’re not gonna tell y/n about this?” he questions, raising an eyebrow as he pulls his arm away, noticing how stiff Charles was despite managing to win first after a while.

Charles stays quiet for a minute, before responding, “I’d call them, but—” Charles pauses, sucking in a breath and glancing at his teammate, before adverting his gaze elsewhere.

“they’re just nostalgia.”

[shirefantasies]

Can I request a How Many Kids They Want for the characters from The Hobbit? I’m curious to hear what you think!

Heck yeah! I already made a placeholder for it in my drafts cuz I had to let’s GOOOO! Last post pre-surgery, crazy that we’re only 3 days out 🥲

How Many Kids Do They Want? The Hobbit Edition

Balin

Certainly not a future he ever expected, but it’s not such a bad one, is it? How big his family is is a question Balin wouldn’t mind deferring to his partner, especially as he would never be the one bearing them! But probably not more than three if he was really pressed for an answer.

Dwalin

Girl dad. I said what I said. Secretly wants to settle down and adores the idea of domestic life, especially with a sweetheart of a partner who he can take care of. This transfers to his children, who Dwalin is the fiercest papa bear to! No one will touch a single hair upon his daughters’ heads. I can see him having two or three little girls, very unusual for a dwarf and a bit unexpected to him, who would have said he wanted sons. The moment he has to pull a knife out of his little girl’s hand, though, the very same one that held a doll on the other side, Dwalin realizes what he wants has nothing to do with boys. Raises the toughest girls this side of the mountains!

Thorin

Does not mind the idea of a small family, more time and love to give each member as king. Thorin is fiercely loyal and dedicated, so he wants to shower his partner and child(ren) with as much as he possibly can. Thus he would prefer only one or two children. While he hopes for a son to continue on the line of Durin, growing up with a sister gave him a soft spot and respect for femininity, too. A boy and a girl sounds perfect to him, Thorin’s little prince and princess. He would have such a hard time not softening his harsh ways and one hundred percent spoiling them, but the last thing he wants is to raise spoiled royalty with no humility!

Oin

Oin is so the type of father to have a big family and brag about them all the time! Five or six children. He’s the default carer when they get sick, being so good at treating any ailment or pain that they run to him upon feeling any sort of ill. Not picky about if he has boys or girls, ending up with two girls and three or four boys. All of them are welcome to become his apprentices and several even grew up playing ‘doctor’ for years beforehand! Literally Oin could be handling someone halfway to bleeding out and he’s still standing there staunching it saying how he has the best kids ever.

Gloin

The proudest father and family man in general! Cannot wait to have a family of his own and absolutely wants a son to be his mini-me. Has a special bond with his son as we all know. Gloin is happy to even have one child, but could be persuaded to go up to two or three. Would raise the toughest, shrewdest daughter as he shows her the ropes of getting out of uncomfortable situations and having the confidence to stand up for whatever she wants!

Bifur

A family is a future he never grew up expecting being a manual laborer and warrior. Parts of him weren’t even sure how long he’d live unless he got tough, which of course he did! One son sounds good to him, someone to pass on stories of battle and his ancestors to and shape as a fighter, though he also hopes if he has a family they would not be so forced to see war.

Bofur

Envies his brother’s family a bit, not that he wants quite so many! Bofur would be happy with two or three or four. He loves the idea of having a little girl, especially if she’s a tiny version of his partner, he would just melt at the sight of her. Total, though, he’s down for three or four, multiple but still small enough to feel cozy! Absolutely the type of father who lets his daughter dance with her feet on his and teases the kids whenever he can! Makes little hats for his sons so they can match.

Bombur

Going by the fanon/actor canon here as always, a lot. He’s so good with wee ones and just adores them, so he is down for as many as he’ll be allowed, even up to thirteen or fourteen! Because of this, he naturally wants several of both boys and girls, especially because girls are rarer among his people. So playful with them and a master of getting down to their level as a naturally lighthearted and whimsical person. He loves when the little ones help him cook or bake even if it gets messy!

Dori

The most caring father ever, forever doting on his children and making them feel loved, even if it’s a little much! His perfect number is two, one of each if he’s lucky but he’d be happy with two of the same, too. Dori grew up caring for both of his brothers for enough years, after all, but he also has the sneaking suspicion that with dwarven culture, his love for the finer things would be more likely passed on to daughters! Likes the idea of teaching skills like sewing or jewelry-making to whoever his offspring are.

Nori

Kind of suspects if he had a child, it might not be legitimate, but in the end he takes the plunge of settling down, feeling the urge as he ages to keep his bloodline on. One or two is enough for him, though, sons if he can help it, which being a dwarf he practically can! Realizes carrying a wee bairn around has a charm that lets him get away with even more than usual, and as they age teaches his little boys how to play games and even to cheat a little.

Ori

Softer, more caring than his middle brother, someone who fantasized about having a family if someone would have him. His vision is of four children, two of each. So patient with all the buzzing questions and curiosities of their young minds. All of them, boys or girls, will have the most enriching environments full of art and writing, being raised with culture over getting taught to fight. Since self-expression is encouraged, though, you can bet it’s a loud home!

Fili

Even beyond the weight of cultural expectations, Fili wants to experience being a father. Doesn’t have as strong a desire for a son as most kings and princes do, honoring his mother and what a great queen she would make. In fact, he loves the idea of raising a future queen more than king in some ways. She would be strong, resilient, free to be herself and not fall to the shadows beneath anyone if Fili has his way. He definitely wants more than one, though, and in fact ends up with twins, too! Identical twin sons he encourages both to train and explore as well as to mess with everyone by lying about which twin they are.

Kili

This dwarf loves his mother and is just dying to show his children the love he got and respect his partner especially if she’s the mother of his children! The idea of a family makes him happy like nothing else, for despite all his flirting and seeming like he wants to have fun he really wants to settle down with the love of his life. He wants at least one of each, loving different things about having a son and daughter. The kind of father who would play dress-up with his daughter and spar with her just as much as his son! All in all, he’s pretty open on numbers, but he wants at least two and the ideal range in his mind is around three to five.

Bilbo

Didn’t think he wanted children for a long time, but Bilbo is definitely the sort to change his mind if he meets the right person. Still would prefer a smaller family of one or two children, though, as more would be overwhelming to him and he wants to keep his home in order! Boy or girl, his kids would learn so many skills ranging from folding handkerchiefs to cartography. No strong preference from Bilbo on what he wants, per se, he more just hopes to have things in common with them and be able to bond.

Thranduil

Torn between his desire for an heir and not exactly paternal ways, Thranduil really only wants one child. All his attention can be focused that way, too, because at his heart he does know that duty makes it hard to be as involved as he could be with family and it would not be fair to have a massive family he can’t spend time with. Likes the idea of a son, again considering an heir, but a little girl would have the woodland king absolutely wrapped around her finger and get every pretty little thing she wants.

Bard

Pretty obvious on this one, but he would want three! Not so picky on having sons or daughters, especially when his legacy already has pressure upon it. In truth he’s the sort who wants ‘the full experience’ and says he’d want to try for one of each. Teaches all of his little family valuable skills, wishing them the best chance in life. They’ll learn to heal, defend themselves even if it’s not fighting, simply keeping safe.

Beorn

Intimidated as he is by the prospect of having children in a world that was so cruel to his people, his papa bear instincts run deep through his veins. I can see him having twins or even triplets, like a little litter all his own. I see triplets, two boys and a girl. Beorn cannot help the way his often harsh expression softens at his little ones, the hopeful smile that creeps onto his face at the thought of continuing the Skin Changers’ legacy through his sons and daughters, his name-bearers and the one who will choose her own.

Taglist: @kilibaggins @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart | Message/Reply to join 🥰

[hiimawarish]

too soft for all of it

s. mutual pining with jing yuan (and a very uncomfortable yanqing). cw. fluff. maybe a little crack? mutual pining. funny misunderstanding. maybe a little suggestive, but not too much. female/afab reader. tw. none. not proofread. wc. 0.69k a/n. i have no excuse for this more than i love this man and he has ruined me. credits. dividers by @/cafekitsune.

As Yanqing hesitates outside the door, he wonders if you really think you’re fooling anyone. You’re not. He is sure of that. Knowing the General, there is no way he is convinced that whatever you two had going on was kept a secret. The soft echo of laughter within the Seat of Divine Foresight tells him as much—the poor boy recognized your voice as soon as he had arrived, with his hand up balled into a fist, almost knocking, yet he stopped. He stopped. And he has been here, stuck in front of the door, for what feels like an eternity.

“I need to go,” He can hear you say. The voice is muffled, but his training makes it easy to strain his ear to understand. “My break at work will be over soon.”

“I’m sure I can come up with a good excuse for Lady Fu to allow you more time.” 

Ah, there he is. 

Yanqing feels himself blushing, then. What is he doing here, frozen in front of the closed door, listening to this conversation? The truth is that the General had called for him. That is the first reason. The second, well, he had some pieces of information to report. Now he wonders if they are important enough to knock and interrupt whatever is going on inside. The boy shakes his head at that—no, maybe he is merely imagining things. As laid down as the General is, he truly doubts that he would make use of the Seat of Divine Foresight for such inappropriate acts.

Right?

Right?

God, he just wants to get out of here.

“General?” Yanqing finally knocks, feeling both ashamed and upset that he seems caught in this position. Honestly, who does he think he is fooling? Although the office’s expanse is more than enough, it isn’t as if the giggles and whispers do not make it outside at all. Ugh. “You called for me?”

“Yes. Come in.”

Yanqing feels himself freezing again at that. He had… He had actually asked him to come in? 

“Yanqing?” The General calls, again. 

“Coming!”

The boy pushes the doors open against his better judgement. His mind runs wild with all the possible scenarios, with all his possible outbursts… only for him to be left speechless. There is no state of undress, no inappropriate scene. The only thing out of place is the starchess. You’ve been playing… All this time, all those whispers, everything… For a game?

Yanqing feels himself blushing, then, furiously. General Jing Yuan watches him with curiosity first, and then the molten gold eyes of his gleam knowingly—ah, he has been discovered. 

“Yanqing,” You call him. He seems startled, and still flushed, but if you notice, you do not mention it. “Tell the General that he cannot move this piece like this. He’s cheating.”

Ah, his old antics.

“I am not cheating,” Jing Yuan crosses his arms across the expanse of his chest, an amused smile curving into his lips as he glances at you. Yanqing observes the exchange in silence. Neither of you say anything, and yet the General’s eyes seem to soften as they lay on you. “You’re a sore loser.”

“Says the one who’s always hiding pieces of chess,” Yanqing adds.

Jing Yuan makes a face. “That’s different.”

“How so?” You retort, almost exasperated. 

Though your voice sounds upset, Yanqing can see beyond that. He can see the longing in your eyes as you glance at the general, those secretive looks that you both think no one else can see, but for the Lieutenant are evident. He notices the lingering touch of your hand on Jing Yuan’s shoulder as you nudge him, playfully, the way he smiles at the feeling of your hand on him. 

Yanqing realizes, then, that perhaps the General is softer than he once thought.

It’s apparent. 

“I’m leaving now,” you announce, taking a few steps toward the exit. “I already wasted my break on a game with a cheater.”

A rumble of laughter parts Jing Yuan’s lips at your words. “You wound me.”

Yanqing stays silent, watching you banter—yes, the General has definitely gone soft.

Soft for you.

more works.

©2023 hiimawarish do not translate, repost, copy, modify

[vixensbrainrotts]

Money, honey - Kokonoi Hajime

Content: imagine

Tropes: Tenjiku! Kokonoi, established relationship, neither Inui siblings exist for sake of convenience (or else there would be immense plot-holes but this is a fanfic so it doesn’t really matter)

Summary: you and Kokonoi having been put in a forced marriage at a young age and being okay with it. Both of you have seen and felt the positive impact you both make not only on your bank accounts but also on each other. yes the relationship you both share is more based on convenience, but he is your husband after all. So when during a Tenjiku meeting he is asked about the single diamond-encrusted ring on his finger, he reveals your existence to them. How convenient is it that you're coming to find him right now, too?

Vixens two cents: hi all! This is something that has been rotting away in my drafts for very, very long time, and since I’m on a streak today (3 posts in a day?!) I’ve decided to give this some daylight too. Let me know what you think of this, and remember that REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!! yes, now enjoy the rich and famous!

"Wait Kokonoi, since when do you wear rings?" Rindou asked during a semi-official meeting where his attendance was only half-required. At that question Kokonoi’s faces into an uncharacteristically warm smile, his eyes softening as he said “I’ve always worn this ring, you must have failed to notice it prior..” his voice drifts off dreamily as he started at the diamond encrusted jewelry. Completely bewildered Rindou started to back away from the Financier, making a straight backwards lunge towards his brother.

“Ran.” Rindou nearly whisper-shouted, his voice cracking unattractively, fierce stare still fixed on the suspicious acting Koko. Slightly annoyed due to being interrupted, Ran sighs and turns to face Rindou “What could you possibly wa-“ “fucking emergency. Kokonoi has lost it. He’s gone. Fucking depleted. Only good for the loony bin.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ran questioned, excusing himself from the prior conversation before turning back to his brother. “Look, look. Over there. See that? The way he’s staring at that ring, which might I add I have never seen before?!” Rindou points at the male in question, prompting Ran’s eyes to follow the accusatory finger. And lo and behold, Rindou wasn’t lying. Both the expression and the jewelry Kokonoi wore looked awfully foreign, so soft that it made Ran’s skin crawl in disgust. “What the fuck.” Ran mumbled.

Both Haitanis were fixated on Kokonoi, eyes wide as saucers, hectically darting from his hand to his face and back down to the ring… The softness of his face- his normally cold eyes especially- was a spectacle incomparable to anything that they had ever seen. The brothers share a look, both of their mouths hanging open. „We have to clear this shit up.“ Rindou states and Ran nods in silent response, grabbing his brothers arm, tugging the both of them closer to Kokonoi.

„Hey Koko.“ Ran states, voice coming out slightly more strained than he would have liked. „What’s- whats good?“ Kokonoi didn’t spare them a glance when they approached, keeping his eyes transfixed on the ring on his finger. In desperation, the borthers‘s eyes meet once again, clearly helpless in this situation as they tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

„What do you need from me now, hmm?“ Kokonoi‘s voice was still sickly sweet as he spoke, clearly influenced by the glittering gems in the ring. „Well..“ Ran starts again, a little unsure how to phrase the question lingering on his mind. „So that ring…“ Rindou tries this time. „What about it?“ Kokonoi quips.

It takes everything for Ran to choke out the question, and he thinks this might be the most uncomfortable situation he's ever been in.„Does it have any greater significance?“

The Haitani‘s pathetic try at interviewing the financier were interrupted by a smooth, honeylike voice„Haji?“. Crips and clean it cut through the air, ringing uncharacteristically high in comparison to the low huffs and grunts the Tenjiku hideout normally hears from it's members. The brothers barely have time to register the call before they notice the way that Kokonoi‘s head snaps up, his eyes wide and loving upon hearing the noise.

The hand he was previously so enthralled in drops, falling limply at his side as he focuses on the owner of the voice instead. „Yes?“ his voice is meek and soft when he speaks, lacking the sharp, silver-tongued edge it normally has and rather mirroring the call.

Finally, the brothers turn to look at the voice. As if the world had slowed down around them, their heads turned and met sight with something magical. A woman.

She was coming their way, slowly, confidently taking long strides, the long, open Trench-coat flowing smartly behind you, an invisible wind causing it to billow majestically with every step. The rhythmic click click click of your heels against the floor seemed to hypnotize as neither of them could peel their eyes away.

When they realised that you were coming their way, they scrambled to seem put together. Ran hastily pulled a hand over his hair, haphazardly smoothing down any flyaways, and Rindou straightens his uniform gloves and pushes his glasses up on his nose, forcing his eyes to be sleepy (he thinks it looks sexy).

Once you reach the three though, you dont spare either of them a moment of your time, passing them curtly and walking straight on towards Kokonoi. He in response opened his arms invitingly for you, which you took- giving him a quick side hug and a kiss on the cheek before pulling away and straightening yourself.

Both Haitanis clearly deflated at the display of affection and shared a glance. Whilst this answered some questions the brothers had, a million new ones took their place and zoomed around their brains hectically. Ran (still a little hopeful that perhaps you’re just Kokonoi’s long lost sister) opened his mouth, about to ask of your whereabouts and why you’re here (and what your connection to the financier is but he wouldn’t have asked even if he could).

You beat him to it though. “They want us both to be present during the board meeting, which I find ridiculous, but they specifically reached out to my agent to request both of our presences.” Your hands came up to his uniform as you spoke, smoothing out the collar and brushing off non-existent dust.

Kokonoi’s eyes furrowed in confusion and he looked down as you, one arm still wrapped around your wait loosely, keeping you pulled to his side. “What, aren’t you enough? I think I’d anything at all they should be happy it’s you and not me sitting there. Why’d they want both of us?”

The Haitani brothers watched you discuss as if they were watching a tennis match, eyes flipping left and right to follow the leader of the conversation, only to return back to the other to hear the response. They didn’t have the slightest idea what this was about, but they were oddly intrigued by your very adult-sounding problems.

“Something about co-ownership of our shared title in the board. Not sure why they couldn’t just get a different ambassador to act as triangulation if only one of us would come, but I suppose it’s because of some type of marital regulations that have to be followed.” Your left hand ended up resting on his collarbone, and shiny, glittering jewelry that embezzled your hand glinted in the overhead lights. One item in particular caught the eye upon closer inspection.

The ring.

The same ring that Kokonoi wore sat pretty on your left hand, the white-gold band mirroring his perfectly.

The brothers noticed. They noticed and shared a sullen, rather beat moment of eye contact, grieving the things that could have been. Rindou is shameless enough to butt into your important sounding conversation. “Wait hold on so you’re married?”

You both halted your conversation and turned your heads to face him before turning back to each other. “They don’t know?” You ask Hajime with slightly wide eyes, a voice just above a whisper. He looks back at you, eyes just as wide as he shrugs and whispers back: “No I haven’t told them, sorry sweetheart I hadn’t figured that they’d ever meet you.”

You look at him with an incredulous look, nodding slowly. “Right…” moments of awkward staring passed before both of you sighed. „You or me?“ Kokonoi asked you in a brief whisper, and you whispered back: „You, i did it last time.“

Kokonoi groaned, seemingly remembering the aforementioned ‚last time‘. The brothers shared another look, but chose to remain quiet, silently bidding for him to speak. „We’re bound by a contract strictly immersed in the world of business. What brought us together was a marriage of convenience and mutual agreement of such circumstances. Originally, we were arranged to stay solely engaged, but as we prospered together as an item, we both started seeing the benefits that came not only financially, but also in terms of time management and simple, casual things. So, individually we decided to make it a permanent, and we’re please try surprised by each others willingness to bind ourselves to this contract for life.“

Kokonoi’s voice sounded calm, almost rehearsed, but that was probably due to the frequency of how often both of you probably had to explain this. Despite the monotone nature of the words, his voice still sounded sincere, if not almost sweet at times, as he glanced at you every so often, eyes lighting up for a split second.

Something within the brothers stirred, something unbelievable. They for some reason didn’t doubt the nature and seemingly effortless chemistry between the two of you, and they couldn’t lie and say they didn’t see the way you two looked at one another. It was a complete picture, a stark contrast to the usually silver-tongued, quick-witted, highly calculated individual they knew Kokonoi to be.

No, this Kokonoi was unknown to them. This Kokonoi had a stable relationship- a wife. This Kokonoi has stars in his eyes as he watched you confirm what he said, adding details about how the two of you met. This Kokonoi held your waist softly and squeezed once, twice to remind you of the time, and why you were here in the first place. This Kokonoi whispered to you softly underneath his breath, prompting you to nod and give the Haitani‘s both a quick handshake and a goodbye before turning around in Koko‘s arm and allowing him to drag you off towards the exit.

Rindou took off his glasses and said a quick prayer, hoping that perhaps some day he could be hit with the same stroke of luck that Kokonoi had, and Ran watched as the two of you passed Kakucho, who seemed acquainted with you, and nodded as you exchanged a quick few words, presumably excusing your absence.

Both Haitani’s could tell that the debrief session after this would be juicy, and that they had to get to know you closer. Perhaps you could tag along to the next upper echelon meeting Tenjiku was hosting.

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 3

Holy hell, guys. Seriously, I love you all. And just seeing the sheer amount of LOVE this story is getting makes me so happy.

Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.

Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)

Part 1 Part 2

*

Eddie was wrong. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, he was wrong and that was uncomfortable. On the other it meant that whatever was going on with Steve he didn’t care about his reputation anymore and that was always a good thing.

He had walked out of the school doors to the parking lot after school to see a Steve Harrington leaning against his van, just like yesterday.

“Harrington,” Eddie said, “this is a surprise.”

Steve ducked his head. “If you don’t want me to be here, I can leave.”

Eddie held up his hands. “Whoa, whoa there. I didn’t say that. I’m just surprised you took me up on the offer is all. Last time I checked your lot doesn’t throw in with mine.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged. “It does now. Now that I don’t have anyone else.”

Eddie’s eyes widened and he cocked his head. “I thought you and Nancy Wheeler were hot and heavy.”

The very idea of the two of them made him gag. Hetros. Freaking insane, man.

“We broke up on Halloween,” Steve murmured.

Eddie blinked. He had been at that party. To sell, of course, he hadn’t been invited. Had even seen Wheeler storm off, but he really hadn’t thought much about it.

“What bridges haven’t you burned?” he asked in all seriousness.

“My kids,” Steve said. “I’d do anything for them.”

“Okay, that’s going to have to take some explanation,” Eddie said, shoving his hands in his back pockets.

Steve looked around the van and gulped. “Can we take this somewhere else?”

Eddie looked over and saw Nancy and some other guy being all cutesy. “Yeah. Come on, hop in. I’ll bring back later to pick up your car when the lot’s no longer crawling with people who want to do you in.”

Steve sighed in relief, his body fulling relaxing for the first time since Eddie started this journey. He moved around to the other side of the van and got in once Eddie unlocked the door.

“Where to, my liege?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“Is the quarry okay?” Steve asked shyly.

Eddie’s grin softened to a smile. “Sure thing, pretty boy.” He started the van and pulled out on to the open road, leaving behind the messy turmoil that was high school.

They made it out to quarry and Eddie climbed up on the top of his van. Steve looked up at him in amazement.

“Uh, how am I supposed to get up there?” Steve asked.

Eddie leaned over the side and held out his hand. “Grab hold.”

Steve looked at it a moment and then back up at Eddie. He looked into those doe brown eyes and sighed. He planted one foot against the side of the van and then took Eddie’s hand.

And was promptly vaulted to the top of the van.

“Holy shit!” Steve said once he was settled next to Eddie. “You’re strong.”

Eddie laughed. “It comes from all the lugging equipment around for my band. And helping out with stage crew.”

“Wow, you have a band?” Steve asked.

Eddie nodded. “Corroded Coffin. It’s a metal band, we play at the Hideout every week.”

Steve bit his lip. “I don’t know much about metal. I tend to go for alt rock bands like Oingo Boingo, Depeche Mode, REM, Tears for Fears...I bet that was a load of gibberish for you.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m familiar with a couple of them,” he admitted. “Not my thing. But I would have pegged you for a pop vibe.”

Steve scoffed. “I have some taste, man.”

Eddie laughed. “I’d beg to differ, but sure. You do you, dude.”

Steve bumped Eddie’s shoulder. “Go on, then. Impress me with your metal bands, since mine are such shit.”

“My favorite is Metalica,” Eddie said, bumping Steve back. “But I like Mercyful Fate, Dio, Poison.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “And I thought my bands had weird names.”

“What the hell is a Depeche Mode anyway?” Eddie fired back.

“What is a Metalica?” Steve replied.

Eddie opened his mouth, but no sound came out. “All right, you got me there.”

“I was talking to Mrs Hall today about my schedule,” Steve said, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. “I have to drop basketball and baseball. It’s too late to drop swimming, but I talked to Coach Burton and he said I should be cleared for competition I just have to see the swimming board’s doctor for final confirmation.”

“So suddenly you have two classes opened up?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, my last two,” Steve mumbled into his knees. He lifted his head with a sigh. “She won’t let me just drop them and not pick up new classes even though the semester half way through.”

“So you thought about what to fill those slots with?”

“She gave me a list of options,” Steve grumbled and dug the paper out of his pocket. He handed it to Eddie.

Eddie looked over the options. “Debate, would double as extra English credit...” he mumbled reading what Mrs Hall had wrote. “Can’t see you doing that one, if I’m honest.”

Steve shook his head. “Me either. I know it’s not just arguing. But I know they can get heated. I don’t need complete strangers yelling at me when I get that enough at home.”

Eddie nodded. “Choir. Can you sing?”

Steve blushed. “Yeah, actually. But I’ve never wanted to join the choir.”

Eddie frowned. “Why not?”

Steve cleared his throat and looked away. “My vocal coach said that I don’t blend well and am very loud.”

Eddie bumped into Steve’s shoulder. “Soloist only, then?”

Steve nodded.

“Sounds like you’d be great at metal singing,” he continued. “Very loud and very in your face.”

Steve laughed. “Whatever you say, man. But no, choir is out.”

Eddie looked back at the list. “Machine work?”

Steve shook his head. “My dad would kill me.”

“Too blue collar for your dad?” he asked. Steve nodded. “I gotcha.”

“Stage crew,” Eddie continued.

Steve sighed. “I thought about that one, but like with the machine work it’s too ‘blue collar’ for my dad. Plus with my concussion, I’m pretty sure either option would be out.”

Eddie cocked his head and clicked his tongue. “Fair enough.” He looked over the list. “Pottery?”

Steve laughed. “Sure, why not? That’s one.”

Eddie nodded. He mentally crossed out all the classes that were seventh period, focusing only on the class that were eighth.

“Hmm...” he murmured pursing his lips. “Looks like what you’ve got left is geology and drama.”

Steve reared his head back. “What the hell is geology?”

Eddie shook his head. “I have no idea, but it’s obviously a science-y thing.”

Steve let out a bitter laugh. “I guess it’s pottery and drama.” He buried his face in his knees again. “I know my reputation is already in tatters but fuck those kids in those classes are going to tear me to pieces.”

Eddie blinked. The mystery that was Steve Harrington was like following a rabbit down a hole, and coming up to Wonderland. “You’re more concerned that they’re going to make fun of you then you are of your old friends making fun of you?”

Steve lifted his head. “Well sure. I know Tommy and them are going to make fun of me even if I stayed on both teams. That’s a given. They’ve got King Billy to follow now and they’re gonna get vicious with it. But no, the real problem comes from the art geeks coming for me because I have invaded their space.”

Eddie almost brought up the drawing class Steve was already in, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He shrugged. “So tell them truth. Tell them you had course correct because of a concussion. Be honest and defer to them in all things.”

“I’m also going to be the only senior in those classes, man,” Steve groused.

Eddie cocked his head. “Yeah, probably. But what else have you got?”

Steve’s shoulders slumped. “Nothing.”

They lapsed into silence. Just sitting there for awhile looking out over the quarry.

After some time, Eddie bumped Steve’s shoulder again. “So you want to tell me about ‘your kids’?”

Steve frowned.

“Burned bridges, people who haven’t given up on Steve Harrington?” Eddie prompted.

Steve lit up. “Oh yeah. Sorry, man, it’s just the...” he pointed to his face. Eddie nodded. “I still don’t know how I got roped into dealing with these assholes, but yeah. There are six of them now. Started with Dustin Henderson. Smart kid, smarter than most adults I know. Then it expanded to his friends, which includes the little brothers of my ex and her new boyfriend, Jonathan Byers, and of course Lucas Sinclair. And then I picked up El or Jane. I’m not sure which one she prefers, most people call her El though. And then there’s Max.”

“Five boys and a girl?” Eddie asked, his face twisting awkwardly. “Congrats?”

Steve laughed. “Max is short for Maxine. But don’t you dare call her that.”

Eddie blinked. “Max Mayfield? As in Billy Hargrove’s step-sister?”

Steve tilted his head back. “Yeah...but I don’t think I could separate her from the group now if I tried. And besides, she’d kick my ass.”

“You are an enigma wrapped in a mystery, man,” Eddie said.

Steve looked over at him. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21

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