#i was really going through it and couldn't make it in time but thank you for sending this ask ^___^ also your artstyle is awesome ok bye

[cbeargyu]

just a bet for you [2]

summary: you fall for him, deeply, blindly. you give him everything—including your first time. but when he confesses it was all part of a bet, your world collapses. months later, he realizes too late that his feelings were real. but now, you’ve moved on, and when he tries to reach you, you make it clear: he doesn’t get a second chance.

pairing: heesung x fem!reader

genre: high school au, angst, heartbreak, slow burn, betrayal, one-sided love, emotional fallout.

warnings: emotional manipulation, virginity loss, betrayal for a bet, mentions of bullying, intense emotional scenes, crying, self-worth issues, explicit heartbreak, mention of physical intimacy, slap scene, heavy angst, no happy ending.

wc: 4,3k

notes: hi!!🩷 thank you so, so much for all the love the first part of this story received, it honestly made me so happy to see the response :D! you guys make me really happy, i love you all so much. stay tuned because i’ll be posting the other two heesung stories i promised you soon <3 also, if you want to be added to the taglists for upcoming fics, feel free to fill out this form! you can specify which groups or idols you’d like to be tagged in, it would help me stay a bit more organized 🫶🏻

PART 1 HERE.

taglist: @rikiholic @jjongsies @heelovesmeknot @imzhouxinyu @firstclassjaylee @xoxobooksstuff @bbokaricentral @bonsaijoons @ily6968 @annnna1234 @lavxndxrsworld @titttuaf @ball-312 @yujinsbabyi @guppiechuu @mymentalityprince @g3n3v13v33 @pjselee @lovetia @ikeulims @skzenhalove @kukkurookkoo @leechqnsgirl @wonniejamz @lookmaxxxomg @meowmeowjang @yeahhhhsuperhumannn @hyuukas @aheewonenthusiast @lilyofthevalley6 @fabulousarepo4 @zhenyaf1z @antisocialties @deezbin @princesspeachicedtea @heeseungissm

you didn’t go to school for two weeks after it happened.

at first, you told your parents you were just tired. that maybe you were coming down with something. that your body ached. and it was true, in a way—your body did ache, but not from any illness they’d understand. the ache sat deep in your chest, in your lungs, in the pit of your stomach. it made it hard to breathe, hard to eat, hard to sleep without waking up in tears.

you cried until your throat burned. until your pillow was soaked. until your fingers curled into your sheets in the middle of the night, wishing you could claw him out of your memory. you kept replaying it over and over again—how he held you, how he kissed your forehead, how gently he moved inside you, how he fed you soup and looked at you like you were made of glass. and then how he broke you in the same room he touched you like you mattered.

you didn’t understand.

you couldn’t understand.

someone who loved with actions—who tied your shoelaces when they came undone, who waited at the gate after school, who sat in silence with you in the library just to be near you—how could that all be a lie? how could someone fake the way his thumb brushed over your hand while you solved equations, or the way he held you like the world outside your bedroom didn’t exist?

you told yourself there had to be something real in it. maybe not all of it. but something. he couldn't have done all that just for a bet… right?

but while you cried yourself sick, the others were laughing.

heesung and his friends—jay, sunghoon, the others who had always hovered around like shadows—were joking about it in the cafeteria. about how you’d fallen hard. about how easy it had been. jay even said he didn’t think you’d go through with it. sunghoon just laughed and said, “i guess love makes girls blind.”

and heesung?

he laughed too.

smirked and said, “i told you. i knew she’d give in. i know her type.”

and maybe something in him tightened when he said it. maybe something in his chest flickered, sharp and bitter. but no one noticed��not even him. because in front of his friends, his pride had to survive. so he played along. like you had meant nothing. like none of it had mattered.

and yet… when you came back, everything changed.

you walked into school two weeks later with your head held a little higher. your eyes were tired, but they didn’t tremble anymore. your uniform was the same, your hair was the same, but there was something different about the way you carried yourself. you smiled at your teacher when she welcomed you back. you answered roll call like nothing was wrong. when people whispered in the halls, you didn’t flinch.

you told everyone your parents had taken you out of town to visit your grandmother. “we didn’t plan it,” you said easily. “they just made the decision last minute. no signal where we were.”

you sat in class like normal. you took notes. you even hummed quietly during break.

and people noticed.

not in the cliché, dramatic way. not like you suddenly became the “hot girl.” it was quieter than that. it was in the way people looked twice when you walked by. the way they hesitated before talking about you. the way they no longer saw you as invisible, but as something they couldn’t quite define.

and heesung noticed too.

he saw the way your posture had changed. the way you didn’t glance around nervously anymore. the way you answered questions with confidence, how you laughed with classmates you never used to talk to. something about your presence was louder now, even if your voice wasn’t.

and for the first time since he left your house, he started remembering.

he remembered how your hands shook when you first held his. how your eyes lit up when he brought you strawberries one afternoon because you mentioned liking them in passing. how he watched you sleep once, and something inside him clenched in a way he didn’t understand back then.

he told himself it was all an act. that he was just playing the part. that every kind gesture, every glance, every soft breath against your skin was planned.

but not all of it was.

some things just... happened. some moments weren’t rehearsed. and now, watching you from across the room, something sharp curled beneath his ribs.

regret.

and that feeling only deepened when, one afternoon, you were walking past the lockers and someone called your name.

“y/n!”

you turned, blinking, and found a boy you didn’t recognize very well—jake, from class 1-b. tall, warm smile, honey-brown hair. he jogged over with a little out-of-breath laugh.

“you dropped this earlier in the hallway,” he said, holding out your pen.

you blinked at it, surprised. “oh… thank you. i didn’t even notice.”

“yeah,” he grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “figured you’d want it back. it’s cute. the little star charm’s cool.”

you laughed, a small, real sound. “it was a gift. from myself.”

he laughed with you. “solid choice.”

he walked with you to class that day. not flirtatious. just easy. light.

and heesung saw it all from the other end of the hall—your laugh, your comfort, the way jake looked at you like you were bright and new.

and something in his stomach twisted.

for the first time, he wasn’t part of your world.

he had no place there anymore.

and maybe—just maybe—that was the part that hurt the most.

heesung didn’t notice it all at once.

at first, it was just a quiet discomfort. something small. like the subtle ache of a bruise you forgot was there until someone brushed against it. a flicker in his chest that he ignored. a hollow feeling he pushed down with laughter and noise.

he told himself he didn’t care. that he had won. that it was just a bet and he had gotten what he wanted. his friends kept saying it, too—how easy it was, how good the payoff had been, how funny it was that you actually cried.

but every time they said your name like it was a joke, something in him tensed.

still, he smiled.

still, he laughed.

because that’s what he was supposed to do.

until you came back.

you walked into school like someone who had been rebuilt. not louder, not flashier, not dressed any different—but something in you had changed. you didn’t slouch anymore. you didn’t stare at the floor when people passed. your steps were quieter, but more certain. like you didn’t need to be noticed to be seen.

and worse—you didn’t look at him.

not once.

not even when your eyes passed over his. you looked right through him. like he wasn’t there. like the boy you gave yourself to had died and become someone you didn’t recognize anymore. it was the first time he realized you could move on. that maybe he hadn’t broken you the way he thought he did.

and that’s when it started.

the ache.

every day after that, it grew heavier. he tried to ignore it—he flirted with other girls in the hallway, he laughed louder than necessary, he stayed out late. but none of it filled the space you left behind. the silence of your absence followed him everywhere, curling like smoke around his collarbones, pressing against his lungs.

and then came jake.

at first, he didn’t even know the guy’s name. just some quiet boy from a different class—friendly, golden-haired, always polite to teachers. but suddenly, he was sitting beside you during lunch. carrying your books when your arms were full. walking with you to the gate after school. he never touched you too much, never made it look like anything romantic, but it didn’t matter.

heesung saw the way you smiled around him.

not the way you used to smile at heesung—shy and tentative—but brighter. lighter. like you were no longer afraid of breaking.

and worst of all, jake did things heesung used to do.

he tucked your hair behind your ear when the wind blew too hard. he waited for you outside the library, leaning against the wall with both hands in his pockets like it was the most natural thing in the world. he passed you notes in class—not cheesy ones, but simple things like “don’t forget to eat lunch today” or “i hope your morning was kind.”

and every time heesung saw one of those moments unfold, his chest tightened.

because he remembered.

he remembered how you used to look at him like that. how you used to reach for his hand without thinking. how you once whispered “thank you for choosing me” after he kissed your forehead in your room.

he told himself it was all fake. that he had played a role, nothing more.

but some of it hadn’t been fake.

some of it had been instinct.

some of it had been real.

and now it was gone.

sometimes, at night, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking of the way your voice trembled when you said you were happy your first time had been with him. the way you clung to the blanket when he stood to leave. the way you ran after him, bare feet against the floor, tears already falling—and he didn’t turn around.

he should have turned around.

now you were healing without him.

and he… he was unraveling.

that's why he didn’t expect to see you again that day.

it was just a normal afternoon—at least, that’s what it was supposed to be. the courtyard was half-empty, students trickling out after class in lazy, aimless waves. heesung had been walking with jay and sunghoon, shoulders slouched, backpack hanging loosely from one strap, half-listening to some story jay was telling that didn’t really matter.

he wasn’t paying attention. not until he heard your laugh.

soft. low. the kind of laugh that used to only come out when you were comfortable, when you forgot to be afraid. he froze instinctively—eyes lifting before his mind could stop him.

there you were.

sitting on the edge of a planter box under the tree near the gate, legs crossed at the ankle, your head tilted as you listened to jake say something beside you. he was holding a bottle of water, a backpack slung over one shoulder. he handed it to you, and you took it with a small smile, your fingers brushing his for just a second.

heesung couldn’t hear what you were saying. but you were smiling. you looked healthy. rested. you looked like you hadn’t spent weeks crying over him in the dark. you looked like you’d finally let go of the hand that once shattered you.

and you didn’t look his way—not once.

that was the part that felt the heaviest.

“damn,” jay muttered beside him, loud enough for the others to hear. “she moves on fast.”

sunghoon snorted. “wonder if she cried in jake’s arms, too.”

they laughed. a few other boys chuckled with them. someone else said, “what was her name again? the one you took home? y/n, right?”

heesung didn’t say anything. he kept walking, but his pace slowed.

“maybe she’s just collecting boyfriends now,” jay added with a grin. “first heesung, now jake. who’s next?”

“bet jake has no idea she was begging heesung to stay, crying like a kicked puppy.” sunghoon whistled. “guess jake likes secondhand toys.”

the laughter grew louder. more shameless. more cruel.

heesung stopped walking.

he didn’t say a word. he didn’t laugh. he just stared straight ahead, jaw clenched so tight it ached. his fingers curled tighter around the strap of his backpack, knuckles white.

they were still talking about you like that. like you were nothing more than a punchline. like you hadn’t mattered. like you hadn’t loved him.

and he said nothing.

because saying something would mean stepping out of the mask he’d been wearing this whole time. it would mean breaking the image. it would mean admitting that you weren’t just another girl. that what he did wasn’t just a joke. it would mean facing everything he’d been trying to ignore since the moment he left your house and walked away from the girl who had given him everything.

he told himself it was better this way. that it was cleaner if he stayed silent.

but his silence was starting to rot him from the inside out.

you were still sitting there, unaware. jake stood up, pointing at something in his phone, and you leaned slightly to look. he held the screen closer, and your knees brushed lightly—casual, natural, the kind of touch heesung remembered vividly.

and for a second—just a second—he wished he could go back.

not to change what happened, not to undo it, but to tell you that it hadn’t all been a lie. that not everything had been a game. because when you smiled at him, something inside him had moved. and when you cried, something inside him hadbroken. he just hadn’t known what to do with that feeling. so he buried it. mocked it. pretended it never happened.

and now it was too late.

jay slapped a hand on his shoulder. “what, you mad he’s got her now?”

he didn’t respond.

just shook him off gently, like the touch annoyed him.

because yeah. maybe he was mad.

but not at you. not at jake.

he was mad at himself—for letting go of the only person who ever looked at him like he wasn’t just a name behind a pretty face. for breaking something he didn’t know how to fix. for being too much of a coward to say, “stop,” when they started laughing.

and for still staring at you like you were his, when he gave you every reason to walk away.

he laid on his back, staring at the ceiling like it had answers.

the room was quiet except for the hum of his fan and the soft ticking of the clock on his desk. it was late—past midnight, maybe closer to two—but sleep didn’t come easily anymore. not the kind that left you rested. not the kind that made mornings worth waking up for.

his body was still. but his mind wouldn’t shut up.

he hated how loud your memory was in silence.

he closed his eyes and it came rushing back. the way your fingers curled in his shirt when you kissed him the first time. how you trembled under his touch but still whispered “i want this with you.” how you winced when he entered you, how your nails dug into his back as you cried out, how you smiled, teary and flushed, afterward, whispering “i’m happy it was you.”

he hadn’t meant to remember all of it—but it wouldn’t leave him alone.

the way you used to wait by his locker just to walk home together. the way you brought him tangerines because he said he liked them once. the way you blushed whenever he tucked your hair behind your ear. how you laughed when he teased you softly. how your voice always dropped when you said his name like it meant something more.

he thought he’d buried all of that. he thought forgetting you would be easy.

but nothing about you was forgettable.

he sat up in bed, breathing heavy now, like the air around him had thickened. there was a tension in his chest—an ache that didn’t go away when he rubbed his hands over his face. it stayed there, lodged in his ribs, aching like guilt, like grief, like a question he’d never asked himself until now:

did i love her?

and the silence answered back:

yes.

yes, he did. maybe not from the start. maybe not all at once. but somewhere along the line—between the library books and your gentle voice and the way you looked at him like he was someone worth loving—he had fallen for you.

and now you were gone.

really gone.

not just physically, but emotionally. spiritually. you no longer belonged to his world. you no longer turned at the sound of his name. he could pass you in the hallway and it would be like walking past a ghost.

he hesitated, looking at his phone on the nightstand.

his heart beat faster.

his hand trembled slightly as he reached for it, thumb hovering over your contact. it was still there. he never deleted it. he never even changed your name. just y/n—plain, simple, the way you saved yourself in his phone that first night.

he stared at it for too long.

what do i say?

what could i say?

sorry? i miss you? i didn’t mean it? i was wrong?

they all felt hollow. they all felt too late. but he pressed the call button anyway, like maybe—maybe—you’d still want to hear his voice.

it rang once.

then the screen went black. call declined.

he froze.

his stomach dropped.

he tried again. and this time—

“this number is not available.”

his throat tightened. he tried to breathe through it, but his chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

you had blocked him.

not muted. not ignored. not paused.

blocked. completely. entirely. with finality.

and just like that, it hit him like a blow to the ribs.

she doesn’t want to hear from me. she’s done.

what did he expect?

that you’d pick up in the middle of the night, voice soft and sleepy, still waiting for him? that you’d cry again, say his name, beg for answers? that you’d run into his arms like nothing had happened?

how fucking foolish.

his fingers tightened around the phone, then let it drop beside him with a dull thud.

you weren’t waiting. you weren’t hoping. you weren’t his anymore.

you had walked away. healed. outgrown him.

and he—he had stayed the same. still pretending. still running. still hiding behind silence and laughter and people who didn’t care if he burned.

he laid back down, arm over his eyes, chest hollow.

he wouldn’t call again.

he wouldn’t message.

he wouldn't show up pretending to be brave.

not because he respected your decision—but because he was a coward.

and because facing your rejection now would destroy what little was left of him.

so he let the silence stay.

just like you had.

days had turned into weeks, though heesung wasn’t sure when the shift had occurred. time had begun to bleed together, slow and indistinct, like the blur of water slipping down a window during a storm. everything felt quieter than before, but not in the peaceful way—no, it was the kind of silence that made his skin itch, that wrapped around his lungs and refused to let go, like grief that hadn’t quite finished forming. he still walked the same halls, still sat in the same classrooms, still laughed at the same tired jokes, but the world around him felt distorted, as if nothing was quite where it used to be. and it wasn’t. not really. because you weren’t there anymore—not in the way that counted.

you didn’t look at him anymore. didn’t flinch when you passed each other. you didn’t hesitate, or soften, or seem remotely affected by the empty space he left behind. and maybe that was what finally started to eat at him—not your absence, but your indifference. it was easier when he thought you hated him. hate meant fire. hate meant he still lived somewhere inside you. but now... now you looked through him like he had become translucent, like he no longer held a single thread to your world. and god, it hurt more than he could stand.

he told himself he didn’t care. repeated it like a prayer each night when he stared at the ceiling in his dark room, one arm slung over his eyes to block out everything except his thoughts. but the truth clawed at him like something alive. he remembered everything—your hands in his, the soft pull of your smile, the way your head fit perfectly on his shoulder, how your voice cracked when you said “i’m glad it was you.” he had tried to forget, but it came back in waves, sharp and suffocating. he remembered how you kissed him like he mattered, how you trembled but still trusted him, how your eyes fluttered open afterward, full of something so painfully pure it nearly undid him.

he couldn’t forget. not anymore.

the ache that came with those memories had become unbearable—dense in his chest, heavy in his throat. and when he walked into the chemistry lab that afternoon, all he wanted was to disappear for a little while, to escape the noise of the halls and the suffocating press of guilt that followed him like a shadow. he didn’t expect to see you there.

you were standing near the lockers, facing away from him, your body half-tucked behind the tall cabinet where the beakers and tongs were kept. you moved carefully, methodically, as if each motion served a purpose. your back was straight, your hair pulled out of the way, the sleeves of your uniform rolled just slightly. you looked so calm, so self-contained. you looked nothing like the girl he remembered sobbing under a blanket while he walked away.

he froze. completely.

for a moment, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. he felt like the air had thickened, like he had walked into a memory and it had decided to come alive just to punish him. his gaze locked on you, and as if some invisible string snapped taut between you, you turned.

your eyes met.

and everything around him went still.

his heartbeat stuttered. there was a pressure behind his eyes, behind his ribs, like something raw had clawed its way out of him. and for the briefest second, he thought maybe—maybe—there was something still left. maybe you’d say something, anything.

but then you blinked, cold and calm, and turned away again without a word.

you folded your lab coat neatly, placed it on the stool beside you, and grabbed your bag. you were already halfway to the door when his body reacted before his mind could.

“wait—”

his voice cracked through the silence, rough and desperate.

you paused, fingers on the sliding door, shoulders tense.

“please. y/n… wait.”

he moved toward you, slowly, like every step cost him something. and just before you could open the door, he reached out, fingers brushing your wrist.

you flinched.

your reaction was immediate, electric—your body snapped away like he had burned you. your eyes turned to his, not wide with surprise or hurt, but narrowed with fury and something else—disgust. your voice, when it came, was sharp and low and full of ice.

“don’t touch me.”

he stepped back instinctively, guilt spreading across his face like poison. he lifted his hands slightly, palms open as if to show he meant no harm. but it didn’t matter. it was already too late.

“i just… i need to talk to you,” he said, voice softer now, almost breaking. “please. i know i don’t deserve it. but just let me—”

“you used me.” your voice cut through the room like a blade, and he fell silent instantly. “now you want me to believe you care?” you shook your head, bitter disbelief dripping from every word. “don’t insult me. save your guilt for someone who asked for it.”

he took a shallow breath, but your words didn’t stop.

“you didn’t defend me when they laughed at me.” your tone trembled now—not with weakness, but with pain long held. “you laughed with them.” you stepped forward, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “so don’t act like you regret it now.”

his lips parted, his throat worked, but nothing came. not until you finally said the last thing he’d been terrified to hear.

“you never loved me, heesung.” your voice cracked, but you didn’t look away. “you loved the way i looked at you.”

that broke him.

he looked down, shoulders heavy, breath unsteady. he wanted to deny it, to explain, to beg—but the truth swelled inside him like a wound finally bursting.

“i did,” he said softly, eyes flicking back to you, desperate. “i did love you. i swear i didn’t know it until after, but—” he choked, biting down the panic that rose in his chest. “yes, it started as a joke. a fucking stupid bet. but it stopped being one the moment you smiled at me like i meant something. when you held my hand, when you kissed me back, when you… when we were in your room, and i held you—”

you slapped him.

hard.

his head jerked slightly to the side, the sting spreading across his cheek like fire.

you were shaking now, but your voice was steady.

“don’t you dare bring that night up.”

your eyes were red, but not from weakness. from rage. from betrayal. from the kind of heartbreak that people don’t walk away from whole.

“you planned it. all of it. you got close to me just to win. you let me fall. you let me love you knowing the whole time you were going to rip me apart. and you did.” your voice rose, thick with tears now spilling freely down your cheeks. “i hate you, heesung. i hate you. leave me alone.”

he opened his mouth, but you were already walking away, grabbing your coat and bag, shoving past him like he wasn’t even there. and this time, he didn’t follow. he didn’t try to stop you. he just stood there, one hand on his cheek, chest collapsing in on itself.

he watched you disappear through the door.

and for the first time, he didn’t just feel regret. he felt loss. real, permanent, irreparable loss.

and he knew.

you would never look at him again.

not even with hate.

because even that… required caring.

and you were done.

[all4yoi]

𝓣he 𝓓addy 𝓓iaries

!? . . ★ 𝓜ood 𝓢wings — wherein they realize just how real pregnancy mood swings are and how they try (and fail) to survive them.

➹ enhypen hyungline x fem!reader ✦ cw: fluff fluff fluff super fluff !! some crying (ofc), pregnancy, and that's it?? just fluff really, lmk if i missed something. not proofread

➹ taglist 2: open! SEND AN ASK — SERIES MASTERLIST

LEE HEESEUNG

Heeseung has heard about the eventual mood swings you'd go through, specifically now that you're pregnant. "Take her easy." his mom has said to him hundreds of times. No matter how many times he has seen you cry over the littlest and silliest things, he couldn't get used to seeing you cry.

Just like now.

"Baby? What happened?" Heeseung asked upon seeing his pregnant wife sniffling quietly on the couch. He sat down next to you, placing his hand instinctively on your lower back and rubbing.

Your glassy eyes looked up at him and he could hear his heart cracking. "They got it wrong." your voice cracked as you whined, gesturing towards the box of chicken nuggets on the coffee table. Heeseung frowned, opening the meal and looking at you with worry and confusion.

"What's wrong baby? Did they give the wrong sauce? Should I go get-"

"They gave me twenty-one instead of twenty!"

Heeseung blinked.

Wait.. shouldn't.. that be a good thing? Nevertheless, he nodded solemnly as if it had offended him too, wrapping his arms around you. "That's okay, baby. I'll eat the extra one." and before you could say anything, his hand reached towards the box and put the lone nugget in his mouth.

Big mistake.

Heeseung flinched when you suddenly slapped his shoulder, glaring at him. He raised his arms in confusion, his eyes wide like a bambi's.

"That was for me! The twenty nuggets were for the baby!"

Yeah, Heeseung could get used to this. Maybe. — more under the cut!

PARK JONGSEONG

You were only ten weeks pregnant and yet your moods were all over the place, and ever since then, your husband has been walking on egg shells.

A single misplaced glass on the kitchen cabinets can either trigger a meltdown or a full-on crying session. Jay had even stopped making eggs for breakfast after you once yelled at him for "stinking up the whole kitchen," only to burst into tears seconds later because you felt bad for snapping at him.

Despite all that, he still found you charming. He'd coddle you, calm you down, and kiss you breathless just to bring your mood back up.

But there were times where he let his guard down, just like now.

"Baby, can you please fetch me some water.." you whispered sweetly into his ear, pleading politely and softly. Jay didn't answer but merely sat up from his position on the bed with a grunt.

A grunt.

But you didn't hear a grunt. You heard a groan and a heavy sigh. A sigh that only an annoyed man would do.

"Are you mad? Why are you mad?" you furrowed your brows. "I just asked for water from the fridge, you should be thankful I'm not asking for fresh spring water that you'd have to get from a waterfall."

To say that Jay was taken aback was an understatement.

"Baby, what are you talking about? I'm not mad." he said gently with a frown, looking at you in confusion. His confusion deepened when you slapped his hand away when he tried to touch you.

You shook your head and turned your back towards him. "You are. Don't hide it. You sighed."

He raised his brows in amusement but didn't let it show in his tone. "What?"

You turned your head at him, lips pouting and eyes narrowed. "You sighed, Jay. I heard it." you whined in annoyance.

He hadn't. But he wasn't about to argue with a hormonal woman carrying his child.

Instead, Jay pursed his lips before planting a soft kiss on your temple while his hands stroked your hair. "Okay, I'm sorry baby. It's not gonna happen again, okay? I'm so terribly sorry-"

"So you admit you were mad!"

He really wasn't, but if it meant seeing you smile at him again, he'd apologize a hundred more times.

SIM JAEYUN

Despite being only ten weeks pregnant, Jake had been treating you like your due date was just around the corner. He'd help you up the stairs, one of his hands would always be on your back when you'd sit up, and he didn't let you do any chores even though there weren't any physical changes in your body yet.

After long talks with each other and both families, you'd decided to keep the baby, especially after getting nothing but love and support. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest when your mom simply hugged you through tears and when Jake's mom embraced you just as tightly, apologizing for her son with a laugh.

Jake was over the moon. He's always wanted a family and to build it with you? He could die a happy man.

He was enjoying himself too much, even through your mood swings.

Jake watched you spread butter on a toast with heart eyes, utterly lovestruck. His attention averted to his phone when it vibrated, notifying him of the food you asked for being delivered.

Really, he only took three minutes max to get the food from the front door before walking back to the kitchen to see you kneeling and sobbing on the floor with a fallen toast beside you.

"Lovely, what happened?" he asked with a smile, kneeling down beside you to wipe your tears with his thumb. You hiccuped a few times before you spoke.

"That was the perfect slice, Jake! It was golden on the edges, it was for our baby," your hand cradled your still-flat stomach. "Now it's dirty and... unhealthy."

Jake widened his eyes, his jaw dropping. "The baby's toast?!" he gasped. "That's no good!" he exclaimed, gathering you in his arms and helping you up.

Jake knew that telling you it wasn't a big deal and that it was fine because it didn't fall on the buttered side was inevitable. He could tell you. Instead, he let you cry to your hearts content while he held you, his lips pecking your temple at every hiccup.

"Shh, look at the brighter side," he murmured as he pulled away gently, just a tiny bit to look at your red, swollen eyes. "Your requested chicken tenders just arrived, fresh and hot." Jake smiled when you paused mid-sniffle, your eyes flicking towards the paper bag on the counter.

"...Yay," you mumbled, before curling back into his embrace and kissing his neck.

"I love you, Jakey."

"I love you too, baby."

He'll clean the floor later.

PARK SUNGHOON

After two whole years of yearning for a baby and now finally having it, Sunghoon was sure that he was prepared for the long journey ahead. That included the morning sickness, your cravings, and your mood swings.

Or so he thought.

"Im hungry." you suddenly said from beside him on the couch, pouting while rubbing your still-flat stomach. Sunghoon hummed, pausing the movie and turning to you with a gentle look.

"Yeah? What would you like this time, baby?" he asked, waiting for you patiently as you looked towards the ceiling as if it had the answer to his question.

"Um.. I don't know." you mumbled, ashamed as tears started to form on your tear ducts. Sunghoon sat up straight, both hands cradling your face as he cooes at you softly. "Shh, don't cry. We'll figure it out together. Let's go to the kitchen."

He helped you up, pressing a sweet and warm kiss on your cheek as you both walked towards the kitchen hand-in-hand. He helped you sit down on a stool before walking across the counter and looked at you with a determined look.

"Okay baby. Bring it on. I'll do anything."

You giggled, watching your husband in awe and began thinking.

Ten minutes passed. Your smile had faded, now replaced with frustration as your lower lip was caught between your teeth. Sunghoon stayed patiently, one hand holding yours  and giving it gentle squeezes

"I want.." you hesitated. "Something sweet. No, maybe salty? Or crunchy- Ugh! I don't know, baby." you rambled, voice cracking in guilt and frustration.

Sunghoon merely nodded. "It's okay, I got you baby."

Those were his last words before he disappeared from in front of you and into the walk-in pantry. Minutes later he came out with a tray filled with chips, sliced pickles, strawberries and a spoonful of peanut butter.

You looked at it in disbelief. "This isn't what I wanted, Hoon!"

Sunghoon paused mid-step. "..Okay. Um.. do you know what you do want now?"

He shouldn't have talked and just came up with something more appetizing because now you're full-on crying. Sunghoon panicked and rushed towards you to pull you in a warm hug and murmured apologies profusely against your hair.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll come up with something new. I'll fix it baby, shh."

Sunghoon thought he was prepared, turns out he wasn't. He just needed more creativity (and yummy) ideas in the kitchen.

taglist 1! bold can't be tagged — @stawberri @saphiranishimurashan @strxwbloody @heesexual74 @jooniesbears-blog @ayablogsblog @teddybeartaetae @gandaengene @snowprincehoon @e-r-i-15 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @maveysoup @hhyvsstuff @tobiosbbyghorl @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia @lostwonderwall @starlit-rin @luciathcv @kkamismom12 @1-hypegirl @50-husbands @talesofthegreatest @kristynaaah @izahere @aeri-shi @shawnyle @riribelle @storeyz @17ericas

[mona-risms]

Rumi x Reader where Reader is a cursed deity that helps the hunters generations (through financially or become a manager once etc.) and finally meets Rumi after the defeat of the demon king. and Mira and Zoey are chaotic match makers

◆ MAIN COURSE: Rumi x cursed diety!gn!Reader

◆ TYPE: SFW

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: N/A

◆ NOTES: I LOVE RUMI SO BAD but also it's half 2 rn why did I stay awake to finish this bro........never letting anyone tell me I give up halfway in anything

Man. You musta done something to get cursed to be a manager for eternity 😭 joke but not actually joke. I can't replace Bobby man.......therefore INTRODUCING 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁 the A&R Manager role!!!!! This'll be one of the Only times my music diploma will Ever come in handy

For reference before getting into it (bare w me please let me ramble even though this'll never be mentioned about again), an A&R Manager kinda oversees a LOT of things. While a unit/artist manager like Bobby is mostly responsible for one/a few units at a time, an A&R manager's responsible for a HUGE range of things like scouting/signing/developing new talent, being a liaison for the artist and the label, overseeing the recording process, to even being aware of different trends and demographics so that they keep the popularity up with the label and its artists

Much as it is a role for them to be personally involved in basically everything, the fact that there's a lot to do most definitely makes it hard to really do so, which will explain why they wouldn't have really met each other this entire time until the defeat of the Gwi-Ma. Bc honestly let's be real there's no way HUNTR/X is the only unit in their label, just the most famous one........and the one trained to handle demon slaying lol

ANYWAY ONTO THE ACTUAL. THING

When Celine first came up to you about what the next generation of Hunters should be, you weren't necessarily surprised about her proposal that fully leaned into the flashfire that was K-Pop in the modern age. Once upon a time, it would've been more traditional forms of musical entertainment, but there's a reason why you were tasked to oversee 'trends' and such for the next generation to create the Golden Honmoon with.. and take on the world by storm, you supposed.

So seeing them for the first time?

..Yeah, this was definitely going to match up with the algorithm.

"Girls," you hear Celine introduce you as you bowed respectfully, "meet the A&R manager for DH Entertainment, several years your senior."

(An understatement, of course.)

Either way, you follow it up with a simple introduction at the same time as the trio bowed in reciprocation, "[L/N] [Y/N], a pleasure to meet the three of you. Former trainees now, yes?"

The one who piped up first was not only the shortest one, but was most likely the loudest one out of the three, "Yes!! We've been working so hard for this, so it feels like such a dream--"

"Right," you cut her off, though not unkindly, "though do remember that you're not just debuting as idols—you're debuting as Hunters, first and foremost. ..Though I doubt you three can debut without any names..?"

"Oh, oh!" The loud one piped up again with an endearingly playful energy, "So I'm Zoey, and the grumpy-looking one's Mira--"

"Really, Zoey--"

"Shh, it's okay, this is just, like, first-hand practice for when we have to MC on stage and--"

You couldn't help the chuckle that left your lips. "Thank you, Zoey. I.. assume you're the leader, then?"

"If I may," Celine interjects, a slight humorous look on her face from watching the entire exchange, "you assume incorrectly."

"Really? Then who..?"

You see Mira nudge her head to the same person that Zoe ends up glomping from behind, "This one! Her name's--"

"Rumi."

The purple-haired woman spoke—or rather, breathed out—her own name, though she doesn't seem all there, if her expression was any indication. Her brown eyes were wide, as if she was witnessing, beholding, some sort of majesty (which, really, wasn't that much far off, though it's not as if it mattered anymore after so long). She stood stock still, as if suddenly unsure of how to act.

And it seems like the other unit members noticed too.

"..Rumi? You okay?" Mira nudged Rumi's side, "you're acting weird all of a sudden—what happened to your freakish proactivity?"

That seemed to snap Rumi out of whatever reverie she was in, scrambling to form a response, "OH! Shoot, uh, sorry! For staring, I mean, I just--

"Hmm? What's this?"

"Shut up, Zoey, let them talk."

"Don't worry about it," you waved it off with a kind smile and ignored the other two and their whispering. "So you're the unlucky leader?"

Rumi lets out a small snort of laughter before nodding, forgetting her initial awkwardness, "Yeah. Though I'd feel bad if I left them to anyone else."

"Hey!"

"Ha. Good luck with that—I've only had the pleasure of exposure for a few minutes, yet I can already tell they'll be a handful. And so will you."

"Wha-- what's that supposed to mean?"

You simply give her a smile as you stepped back, hands raised in a surrendering position, "It means I can tell that the three of you are going to give me a very hard time, just like the other generations before you."

Now it was Celine's turn to sound offended, though in no part did it seem genuine, "May I remind you who was on field again?"

"Was, dear." It was probably a hypocritical push-back, considering how you haven't been on field at all since being cursed, but alas, life wasn't fair.

So you quickly follow it up by patting away imaginary lint off your clothes before taking out your phone, "Now, as much as I'd like to carry this on, I've got enough work to break a mortal's back." And you pat Rumi's shoulder, which her cheeks tint the slightest pink in response, "Good luck, HUNTR/X. I'll be seeing you around."

And you let your hand slide down and drop to your side as you walked off, though you can't help but catch snippets of remaining conversation:

"You've got the hots for the manager. No way."

"I do not!"

"You froze, Rumi. I have never seen you freeze in front of someone new before."

"Cut it out!"

Idk I felt like I had to write out their FIRST introduction, bc honestly I can't see them NOT meeting you if you're in a high-up role, considering their importance

This DOES set things up though, bc they know they exist. But let's be honest it's probably VERY rarely that you two would ever happen upon each other, and even then it's probably in passing, for a few seconds type shit

You might be cursed to roam the Earth instead of actually be the deity of whatever it is you were supposed to hold domain over, but again. You're STILL a deity. So maybe after sensing that something is ABSOLUTELY WRONG, you manage to find where everyone's gathered, where the Saja Boys were performing, where Gwi-Ma had waited to devour all these souls before Rumi showed up, her half-demon heritage VERY out in the open now. Perhaps you even help them fend the demons off, either by boosting the power these souls had or outright using whatever power you had

I think after Gwi-Ma's banished, ever since you've been cursed, you've been in charge of cleanup. Erasing enough memories and proof to make the entire event seem like a Mandela Effect (you loathe how technology advances every minute bc there's THAT fucking issue too), structure reparation, everything. And THIS would be when you and HUNTR/X start interacting more

You'd probably most likely already know about Rumi's half-demon thing; you kinda had to be told by Celine ages ago for the sake of any possible damage control if, say, someome who shouldn't be able to see the markings see it. So when she asks you why you don't look shocked at all, it's because you're not. You've known what she is the entire time, and you don't really gaf. You're a cursed deity, why tf would you?

After the adrenaline wears off, she'd be back to oscillating between being SLIGHTLY awkward—because Jesus CHRIST she thought you were absolutely gorgeous then and she STILL thinks you're gorgeous now—and genuinely enjoying your presence, especially now that she doesn't really have to hide anymore (no thanks to Celine lmfao). Plus I think her newfound freedom opens up the actual excitement of learning about another supernatural entity that ISN'T a demon

Naturally, Zoey and Mira add 2+2 together and decide to meddle. Because honestly beyond the two of them, they know for a FACT that Rumi deserves happiness and acceptance from someone she genuinely likes. And considering you're there.......looking at her with those eyes............likeeeeee 😜😜😜😜 it's just basic girl math!!!!!

So it starts with them pushing Rumi towards you EVERY chance they get. You need to find new talent? Let Rumi help!!! You're going through recording? Oh suddenly the both of them have a cold oh noooooo Rumi will have to go on her own to record her own parts!! You're filling in paperwork? Oh em gee I wonder why we walked all the way here oh I think we left the oven on okay byeeee

It gets less subtle for them lol. They start asking Rumi how she feeeeeeels in so many different ways ("So is age and experience a thing for you?" "Wh--" "Just asking~! Jinu was like a few hundred, and [Y/N]'s been watching over several Hunter generations, so-- mmf!" "Eat your fries or so help me--"), and they even blatantly go up to ask you about preferences and stuff, even going so far as to just flat-out describe Rumi herself ("Purple hair and glowing demon marks; a turn-on or a turn-off?" "..Why?" "Just answer the question.")

Does it get you all closer? Yes. Does it also get you and Rumi closer? Yes, actually, but not just because of their wingmanning—both of you bond over the sheer exasperation at the VERY obvious attempts of playing matchmaker

The two of you probably eventually give in when you get individual messages from the other person about asking to meet at some secluded spot where you can see the stars really clearly without obstruction. How do you two give in, you ask? By just honestly going for it when the two of you realise that no, neither of you texted each other about meeting here and yes, this was absolutely planned by Zoey and Mira. You sit there on the picnic blanket that was mysteriously set up and kitted out with a vintage lantern from a some local goth shop and a basket of food, and the two of you talk personally: about your days; about how Rumi was handling being a demon out in the 'open' (aka humans can't really see it but supernaturals and Hunters can); about how and why you're cursed; about anything and everything

I don't think the two of you would kiss here, not on the lips anyway maybe the cheek ir the knuckle at MOST but otherwise nah. But it's the opening of something more, and when the two of you just lean on each other as you watch the stars, you can just hear a very faint shriek that sounds SUSPICIOUSLY like Zoey. But rn that's not your concern go back to your date 🙏

[lynnsenpai]

Big Life and Comics Update

Hey, remember that time last April when I finished Chapter 6 of MIS, and I was all like, "I'll be back to posting in May." And then it's the end of June now and I've been mostly quiet the whole time. Heck, I meant to make new character profiles for Esther, Seir, and Marchosias during this break and none of that happened either.

The super short version is that at the time the last chapter ended, depression and burnout hit me hard. On a personal level, our apartment was (and still is) in disarray after our landlord had to come in and do a ton of work on our bathroom only to have to stop partway (for honestly legit reasons). This is an ongoing thing, and due to the current heatwave, he probably won't be back to finish until next week, leaving the busted up look of everything to continue to be a source of stress. All the while, I'm worried about my elderly mother who has dementia, and my elderly father who's been having cardiac concerns. And none of this to even speak of the stress cause by the horrifying goings on in my country.

It was making me feel helplessly, perpetually tired.

I'm not going to claim everything is all better now. But I have been taking it slow for the better part of two months while I dealt with life for a bit. I was able to take a fair bit of time for me to rest and zone out as needed, and I finally took a long needed visit home to see my family. So I'm not all better, but I am… better. And I couldn't ask for more right now.

During the last few months, though, what I didn't do a lot of was draw. I contributed to a handful of collabs where I didn't want to let my friends down, and I managed some new rat doodles here and there. But I only have the cover and two pages for the next chapter and basically nothing else ready to go (although the script is done for the next two full chapters). Again, I needed that time, so ultimately, it was for the best. But this does put things in an awkward position right now, because I can't exactly say "stay tuned for new pages next week!" because I'm simply not ready, and that's just a recipe for rebooting the burnout I literally just got over.

My original plan was to finish chapters 7 and 8 to reach what I felt was a good "season finale-like" stopping point, and then take an extended break to shift focus entirely towards the final Rain book until I get it done. I also thought Chapters 7 and 8 would probably be done by now, or maybe next month the latest. I didn't anticipate the two breaks I would need in the middle of Chapter 6 or the extended one I've been taking now. So I'm thinking I want to pivot to a new approach.

My new plan is to expedite the latter. I want to prioritize focus on the last book, to give it a hint of a chance of actually finally coming out this year (it's the 15th anniversary of Rain this November, so I'd really really love to see it release this year).

I sincerely apologize for those of you chomping at the bit for more MIS. But I promise, it will return. And once I complete my previous story once and for all - for real this time - then I can go all in, with MIS finally allowed to have my full attention without an air of guilt hovering over me that I still need to do something else, and overwhelming all the time.

It may be a longer than usual wait, but I think it'll be especially worth it in the long run. The final Rain book will be better for it, and MIS will be better for it.

Here's a little visual of my girls taking turns, so they can both come back all the stronger. ^_^

Sorry again for the extended break, but thank you so much for all your love, support, and patience while I work through everything. I love you all. Please stay safe, stay happy, and stay healthy.

Until next time! 💜

[rin-tales]

cranky cook - sanji x you

BASICALLY sanji is sleep deprived and gets cranky and a lil bit jealous. brooke makes a guest appearance

w.c - 5k. not edited

I bolted upright in my bed, letting out heavy pants as I felt chills go down my body. My entire figure was shaking, but I couldn’t help it. These dreams were always too real, too lifelike. I glanced around the room, shared with Robin and Nami, to make sure I hadn’t woken them up. As soon as I confirmed they were asleep, I tiptoed out of my bed, curling my arms around myself, to protect me from the cold, and from any nightmarish zombies that could spring out at any moment. Despite knowing they weren’t real, I couldn’t shake the terrifying feeling that coursed through me. I quickly made my way down the hall, hoping my lover, Sanji, was occupying the kitchen, and that this journey wasn't for nothing.

I reached my destination perhaps a bit too quickly than I should’ve, but the nightmarish zombies had only spurred me on. I gently opened the door, afraid to awaken him should he be sleeping at the table. The view of the kitchen spread out before me. He certainly was at the table, but no more asleep than I was. His legs were spread out as he slouched over the piece of wood, one hand holding a cigarette just centimeters from his mouth.

He immediately perked up when he saw me, eyes scanning my body to take in my disheveled state. It didn’t take him long to put the pieces together. After all, while this may have been the first time I sought his presence after a nightmare, he knew I had been dealing with them ever since we left the zombie island.

His face morphed into concern, but I beat him to his words. “Can you… Hold me?” I asked in a hoarse whisper, my wavering voice giving away how shaken I was. Despite asking the question, I was already shuffling towards him.

“Mellorine, do you even need to ask?” He quickly extinguished his cigarette and turned his chair, opening his arms for me.

I silently straddled myself in his lap, molding my chest against his. I hugged him tightly, burying my face against his neck. My breaths fluttered across his neck, bouncing back to warm my face. I answered sleepily and somewhat incoherently, “Yeah, because you’re a zombie…”

His hands gently found their way under my shirt, skimming every inch of my bare waist. His warm fingers caressed my hips, nearly sending a chill through me, before settling his arms comfortably around me, and holding me tight. As he eased into my hold, I could practically see the fear melting off of me, being replaced by something much more warm. I could feel him burning with questions, especially since he wasn’t normally this quiet when comforting me. But I couldn't be more thankful as his lack of conversation allowed me to slowly fall asleep. My lips twitched against his neck, despite the fear I had felt only moments ago. How observant this man was.

“I should really hope not…” He murmured. I heard the click of his lighter flaming another cigarette, just moments before succumbing to sleep.

=+=

And so the cycle began. I awoke, terrified out of my skin. I found Sanji’s presence. I slept through the night.

After about 4 consecutive days of this, the effects of my endeavors were beginning to make themselves known. Specifically through the darkened, sleep-deprived eyes of Sanji. Every night, this man had ensured he stayed awake until I found him. And even then, would only allow himself to sleep in brief increments, checking on me occasionally. Despite that, I had felt increasingly guilty that I only realized this after Franky had said something at breakfast this morning, and that I hadn’t figured it out myself.

We had all made our way to the kitchen per usual. Breakfast was an interesting meal, as there wasn’t a set time due to everyone’s sleep schedules. However, due to my nightmares, I had become increasingly clingy towards Sanji, and would hardly leave his side. This meant I sat through every serving of breakfast the cook would serve for the crew.

About an hour after we had woken up, Franky and Robin made their way to the kitchen, sitting at their respective seats at the table.

“Morning guys,” I yawned.

Robin gave a small smile, “Morning.”

Franky gave a silent large wave as he ran a hand down his tired face.

Sanji whisked by, carrying two dishes that he dramatically placed before them. “For the beautiful lady, and the robot.”

“Ahh,” Franky began, practically salivating at the food, “Looking SUPER as always!” Whatever tiredness there was before, seemed to have been instantly dispelled at the sight of food.

Sanji found his way back to my side at the bar. We faced the other crew members at the table and I cracked a smile at Franky’s enthusiasm over food.

Sanji leaned against the bar, “The captain’s favorite is on the menu today,” he replied.

Robin took a bite, “Shouldn’t you call him before the food’s gone then?” she hummed.

“That idiot’s always stealing food. It’s on him if he’s late,” replied the blonde with a yawn.

“Would you save the food if I was the late one?” I asked teasingly, simply wanting a flirty response in that moment.

Before Sanji could reply, however, the blue-haired man beat him too it. “As if you would be late. You’re practically machine-welded to the side of that man.”

“Well, he’s like my personal therapist. So…” I trailed off.

Franky slurped his food, “Is he your therapist at night too?” He said this so matter-of-factly that I almost didn't pick up on the underlying message he sent.

I blinked, “Wha-”

Sanji crossed his legs, his head now resting on his shoulder with his eyes closed. Had he not spoken I would've thought he was asleep. “She has nightmares, cyborg. Get off her case.”

I bit my lip, why did both of them sound almost irritated right now?

Franky raised an eyebrow at him, “Well in that case maybe she gets a pass.”

“Is there something going on?” I spoke up.

The robot-man looked up at me from eating another spoonful. “You’re running him dry. Don’t you see how exhausted that man is?”

Sanji sat upright, repositioning himself in his seat as if he had just woken up. He let out a yawn, “Don’t listen to him, Mellorine. Nothing you’re doing is wrong.”

I glanced at the blonde. As if my eyes had finally been opened, I took in just how exhausted his man looked. The overly-dark circles under his eyes, the disheveled hair, the fact that he had been wearing the same outfit for almost two days straight. I gulped, “Sanji have you been getting any sleep…?”

He nodded and let out a hum, but not before letting out a long yawn. “I wouldn’t mind a quick nap though.”

I turned to Robin, who had a knowing look on her face. “I’m surprised you didn’t realize it, but... No offense Sanji, but you've been less and less yourself the past couple of days. You need your sleep.”

I reached for his hand, gently wrapping his fingers in between his, “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked quietly, guilt running through me.

He faced me, trying to blink away his exhaustion, but the simple fact that he didn’t respond to Robin’s allegation spoke more than words. “Who says they’re right? A man should protect his woman at night. Even from fake foes.”

I shook my head, “Sanji, you need your sleep.”

“Stubborn moron,” Franky muttered. But despite his choice of vocabulary, it was clear that he had begun this conversation out of concern for the man.

And with that, I had made the terrifying decision to conquer my fears by myself, and not let my nightmares interfere with him ever again. I had purposefully spent most of the day away from him, trying to silently tell him that he needed his sleep, and trying to decrease my own clingyness. I spent most of the day with Luffy, playing random games to pass the time, or simply keeping him company.

Around lunch time was the first time I ran into Sanji again. The meal was served later than usual, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was due to his sleep deprivation. While everyone was chowing down on their food at the table, I slipped towards the counter, where Sanji was fashioning a number of fancy drinks. I leaned my back against the counter, watching as his fingers expertly added perfect amounts of syrup and juice to each glass.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he said. His voice was gruffer than usual, a tone he very rarely used with me. But the brief flick of his eyes towards me spoke a different story, like he had actually missed my company over just a few hours.. The dark circles under his eyes hadn’t lessened in the slightest. I had to physical resist the urge to grab hold of him and show him to bed.

“Did you not get any rest?” I asked, somewhat concerned.

“Mellorine, I already told you, I’m fine,” he replied firmly.

My brow furrowed, watching as mixed each glass, “Um, sure. I don’t want to be blunt but… You look awful.”

A testy tone entered his voice, “And there’s things that need to be done, lunch doesn’t cook itself.”

I huffed, “It did not take you four hours to make lunch.”

He scoffed, “Maybe it does when I’m busy at night dealing with more important matters.”

“Sanji, I know you want to help me with my nightmares, but if it’s impacting you this badly-”

His jaw flexed “I’ve helped you through every night, and now you’re acting like you barely appreciate it!”

I blinked at his outburst, “I really do appreciate it, but this isn’t about me. You’ve had your turn to help me, and now you deserve a break.”

“Like you can take a break on relationship things.”

I sighed, “I really appreciate the chivalry, I really do. But at this point, you have to draw the line.”

He set both hands on the counter and flashed me a glare, but one that spoke of exhaustion more than actual anger, “Is there anything else you’d like me to put a break on then, Mademoiselle,” he threw out heatedly.

I shook my head, knowing it was pointless to have this conversation when he was this exhausted. I reached for his closest hand, lifting his fingers off the counter before entwining mine between his. Both of our gazes were enraptured by the simple physical contact. I gave his hand a squeeze, somewhat stupidly hoping if he took a second to process the conversation then he would see that he needed sleep.

Eventually, his eyes flicked back towards mine, but there was little emotion behind them. He pulled his hand out of my hold, somewhat rougher than usual. “I need my hands for cooking,” he said distantly.

I clenched my teeth. “Guess you need them for your stupid pride, too,” I threw back. I shouldered my way past him, ignoring the glances the rest of the strawhats threw at me while I exited the kitchen. The only comment I actually made out was a confused “Yo ho ho…?” from Brook.

I didn’t see Sanji the rest of the day. It wasn’t a petty effort to get back at him for the argument, but more of a way to shout to him that he needed sleep. But even with that, I went to bed that night silently hoping the argument would work itself out tomorrow.

=+=

Hours later, after another horrendous nightmare and very well into the depths of night, I found myself walking along the deck of the Sunny. By force of habit I was walking towards the kitchen, but I knew that wasn't a wise choice. If Sanji was there, I couldn’t make him suffer another sleepless night, and if he wasn’t, I didn’t want to fall asleep there, only for him to find me and feel regretting not being there for me.

Instead, I made my way to the upper deck on the back of the boat. I leaned against the rail, curling my fingers tightly around the wood to relieve my anxiety. No matter how many times I had these nightmares, my mental response was always the same, and I simply couldn’t escape the terror of it. I let out a deep sigh, trying to calm myself with the gentle noises of the sea, and the wafts of saltiness from the waves. But even with that, I couldn’t shake the feeling that a horrible, mutilated creature from my nightmares was watching me.

I let my chin fall to my chest. My heart burned with desire for Sanji’s comfort; to feel his arms wrap around me, and his soft whispers. My jaw began to tremble as I fully comprehended that I would be facing my horrible, awful, fears all alone tonight. I bit my lip, trying to wrack my brain for anything to latch onto, words that Sanji used to comfort me. A joke Usopp had made to cheer me up. An adorable act Chopper had done while he healed me. Or… I remembered the words Brook had once said when he tried to conquer his own fears. “I hum when I’m frightened, and I like to think it helps.”

I lifted my head, letting the light of the moon shine brightly upon myself, as it peeked out from behind the clouds. I bit my lip, and performed a quick scan of the area, ensuring no one was in hearing range. I took a breath, and let out a singular high-pitched note of the first song that came to my mind- and old sea shanty. A second note followed just as smoothly, and soon the entire song was tumbling out of my lips. The sound of my voice complimenting the night sky beautifully as I sang to the stars. My anxious frown soon lessened as I imagined the whole world to be my audience.

Within minutes, the song came to a close, and I contently leaned against the rail, searching for another song I knew just as well. As my eyes darted across the ocean waters, I realized not a single thought of my night terrors occupied my mind. I let out a small smile, but that thought brought me back full circle to my original thoughts of monsters and zombies. Dark figures that were stalking me- Crawling up to this deck on the outside of the boat- Creeping eerily up the stairs-

I whipped around, terror overtaking me. Before I even had time to process my view, I dropped to the deck, my knees unable to handle the fear of the thing before me. Directly in front of me was a terrifying creature. One that reached unimaginable heights.

“Yo ho ho! What a wonderful voice you have!”

That voice… I blinked, shaking my head to clear my vision. Standing opposite of me, leaning against the other rail, was the one and only skeleton, Brook. I should’ve known it was him. He often roamed the ship at weird times of the night because he rarely ever needed sleep.

“Do you need help?” he asked innocently, scaling the short distance towards me.

Guilt immediately wracked through me for thinking he was a monster. I shook my head in response, my hand reached for my own rail. I heaved myself up, trying to conceal the trembling that shook me from my head to my toes. “I.. I didn’t think anyone else would be awake.”

He stood next to me, and leaned over the railing, just as I had done moments ago. “Oh my, did I scare you?” he asked, with some concern.

I gave a weak smile and copied his position, “Only a bit.”

“I tend to have that effect on people, don’t I? Yo ho ho!”

I stayed silent, the adrenaline rushing through me keeping me from giving me an empathetic response. I wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon, that much was certain. “What are you doing out here?” I eventually asked.

“You do have a wonderful voice,” he repeated, giving me a toothy smile.

“Oh, um, thanks,” I said shyly, realizing he had probably heard most of my song.

“Do you sing often?” he asked curiously, seemingly undeterred by my quiet demeanor at the moment.

I shook my head, staring out at the water. Sometimes I forget this man had only been on our crew for a couple of weeks. “No not at all. Sometimes when we have a celebration and the crew makes me sing, but that’s about it.”

“Ahh, you should sing more!” he replied encouragingly.

I shrugged, slightly embarrassed, “I don’t know. It’s not a huge hobby of mine.”

“Well, what got you started singing tonight?”

I dropped my head, letting out a small disbelieving laugh, “Well, this is a little dumb. But it was actually something you said when I first met you.”

I couldn’t watch his expression, but slight silence left me even more embarrassed, “If you weren’t with Sanji I would assume you were in love with me,” he finally replied with awe. His strange, romantic tendencies getting the better of him.

My eyes widened and I jerked my head to look up at him. I gave an awkward laugh, “Oh um, it was actually about facing your fears.”

“Oh?” he questioned.

“Well, you said that you hummed to yourself when you were frightened, and I’ve been dealing with a lot of nightmares lately so… I decided to put my own spin on that idea.”

He let out a low hum, as if testing his own idea, “And did it work?”

“I mean, I’d like to think it did.”

“Would you like to sing again?” he asked simply.

This question caught me off guard, “Uh, I… Why?”

“To help you! I can play my violin if you’d like.” He pushed himself off the rail, and made his way across the deck, where his violin case rested. I hadn’t noticed it there before.

“Well… Only if you play really loudly, then maybe,” I replied.

He took out his violin and played a few practice notes. “Is that loud enough?” he asked warmly.

I nodded hesitantly, a new bubble of anxiety rising in my throat at having to sing in front of someone, “I guess?”

He repeated the notes again, but with more sharpness, increasing their volume.

I gulped, “Yea that works.”

“Why don’t we do the song you just sang?”

I gently hummed, warming my voice again. I let out a breath to calm myself, “Yeah… Let’s do it then.”

“Yo ho ho!” he let out excitedly.

And with that, his violin lit up the night with his expertly played notes. On cue, I joined with my voice, creating a melodic duo that snaked through the length of the boat, and beyond into the sea. We played on and on, our talents colliding in perfect synchronization with each other. When the song came to an eventual close, after many minutes, not a single terrifying thought occupied my mind. A grin stretched across my face as I felt the effects of the song channel through me, elating my mood beyond what it had been all day. Brook beamed at me as he set his violin down.

“That was really good!” I exclaimed.

“Yo ho ho! You’re even better with an accompaniment!” He hopped around the deck, practically dancing with glee.

I let out a small laugh, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Another?” he asked excitedly, jumping over to me. He suddenly link one arm around mine and spun me around once, before releasing me.

The action surprised me a bit but I remained my composure. I gave a small stretch as I tried to hold back a yawn, “Surprisingly… I actually want to, but I feel like it’s getting kind of late,” I admitted.

He gave a nod, “Ah, I understand.”

I smiled, “Another time though, definitely.”

He matched my expression, “Thank you for tonight then.”

With that, we had a bit of small talk before I made my way to the sleeping quarters. On my way there I briefly overheard Brook talking to himself. “I haven’t done that in… Many decades,” he said almost sorrowfully.

I frowned, but any thoughts relating to that were quickly overrun at the sight of something else- the kitchen door cracked just enough to reveal a sliver of light from it. A light wave of dread washed over me, had the blonde man stayed awake in the kitchen for me?

I reached the door, hesitating outside the room for a moment. I wanted to check if he was sleeping, but if he wasn’t… I didn’t want to keep him awake more than he needed to be. He needed to sleep. Despite the overwhelming thought that I shouldn’t enter, I did so anyway, and was quite relieved to see the sight before me. Sanji hunched over the table, resting his head on his crossed arms. I gave a small smile. A long-cold cigarette fell from between his fingers, signaling that he had been out for quite some time. While I knew it couldn’t have been the most comfortable, I was relieved he finally was receiving the sleep he deserved.

I glanced around the room as I made my way towards him, trying to eye his suit jacket that so often accompanied him. But a quick scan proved it wasn’t anywhere in the room. Without a second thought, I removed my own jacket and spread it over his shoulders, like a blanket. It may have been two sizes too small for him, but I became satisfied knowing he had some sort of layer over him. He shifted slightly in his sleep, but I continued to tuck it around him. Eventually, my work was done, and he came to a still. I took a step back and admired the sleeping blonde. His features finally earned the peaceful look they deserved after so many sleepless nights. I reached down, and gave him a small peck on his warm cheek, while also removing the cigarette from his hands.

I moved to make my way out of the room, but upon reaching the door I hesitated once again. I looked back at the man, hoping he wouldn’t beat himself up too much in the morning, when he would see the jacket and realize I had been there, but hadn’t woken him. I shook my head. If that happened, then so be it. I shoved through the door, letting it close silently behind me.

=+=

The following afternoon greeted me, as I quickly made myself ready for the day. A quick once over of the sleeping areas, told me I had slept far past the morning. And I certainly needed it too, because for the first time in over a week I had gotten the sleep I so desperately needed.

I made my way up to the deck as soon as I had freshened up, and was taken aback by the sight I saw before me. We were docked at a port town, and no one was on deck. In fact, they had probably all gone into town. I blinked, wondering why no one had even thought to leave me a note to inform me. And also a little hurt by the fact that I was now expected to watch over the ship alone.

But just as all these thoughts were hitting me at once, no one other than Prince Charming came walking down the steps of the upper deck. He focused on the cigarette in his mouth, trying to light the thing in the slightly breezy weather. When he reached the deck, he successfully lit it, and shook out his lighter, setting it into his pocket. He finally gave his attention to his surroundings, and immediately our eyes connected, spanning the length of the deck.

Tossed over one forearm was something similar to my jacket. At the sight of me, he reached for it with his free hand, gripping it tightly. He meandered towards me, a million thoughts scrawled onto his face, while I quickly paced the distance towards him.

Half way towards him, I called out, “Were you finally able to sleep?”

We met at the midway point of the deck, with him leaning over the rail. He set my jacket next to him. “I was,” he replied, almost begrudgingly, with a puff of his cigarette. His rosy cheeks and bright eyes confirmed his statement.

I settled to the left of him, keeping my jacket slightly in between us. I nodded, happy that we were both well-rested. Despite that, his closed-off body language spoke more than words, and it was clear that something was bothering him. Considering the course of the past 24 hours, I had a few different guesses.

“I didn’t see you last night,” he remarked. He moved his hand to grip my jacket again, as if that part of me was the only thing reassuring him right now. But it also served as a clear signal to tell me that he knew I had visited him in his sleep.

Out of habit, I reached his hand, but remembering the events that happened yesterday, I shifted my aim, and settled my fingers on his sleeve cuff instead. I gently played with it, running the material back and forth between my fingers. The weight of my single finger burned against the skin of his wrist.

“I thought you knew I didn’t want to bother you,” I finally said, wondering if he still held anything against me from our argument.

He out a puff of his cigarette, “So you bothered Brook instead?” he asked. His voice was low, but not the angry sort. The low that suggested he was trying to mask over whatever pain that idea brought him.

My fingers froze, coming to a still at the left edge of his sleeve. “How…?” I trailed off, not quite sure how to ask what I wanted to. Hadn’t he been asleep for that, after all?

He tilted his head to meet my eyes, “You have a beautiful voice, Mon Cheri,” he spoke quietly.

I opened my mouth to speak, a thousand questions rushing through me, but he beat me to it. He turned his entire body towards me, “It was the things I said yesterday, wasn’t it? That pushed you away...” His brow was creased, like he hated the idea of me confirming his words.

I took a breath, not too surprised he came to that conclusion. “No… Sanji I honestly don’t even care about the things you said. I didn’t bother anyone last night. He just showed up.”

He shook his head, dismissing my explanation, “I shouldn’t have said what I said,” he paused, “I’m sorry, my love. My hands are for far more than cooking.” As if to prove his point, he reached to grab my hands in his. “They’re for loving you. They’re for caring for you. For protecting you.” He reached up to caress my hair, “For stroking your hair, and holding you. Even when you have nightmares,” he added.

I stood there, completely starstruck by his words, a smile slowly spread across my face with the more he spoke, growing larger with each word. “I um…” Not having the words to convey my feelings, I reached my arms around his neck, pulling him towards me. My eyes briefly flicked to his lips, before I leaned into him. Just as our lips skimmed each other my mouth parted. I whispered against him “I love you too.” My lips brushing against his as I spoke.

His shudders, yearning for my lips. “Don’t do that,” he warned quietly, his warm breath scattering across my face. He arms reached around my hips, squeezing me against him to show his affection. A smile briefly flickered across me, before he shoved his lips onto mine, devouring me in every way he craved. Both of us were enraptured in each other’s burning romance, after having no contact for the past day.

Eventually, we pulled away, his hands instantly reaching for my cheeks to keep me from retreating too far. He gazed into my eyes, “I adore you, Mon Cheri.”

My cheeks heated at his intensity, something that hadn’t happened in a while. I placed my hands over his, rubbing my thumb across his knuckles. With my other hand, I tilted his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. “Are your hands for kissing too?” I asked fervently.

“For anything you could ever need,” he replied.

I showed a sly smile, “What a tempting offer.”

He raised his eyebrows, an intrigued smile on his face as if waiting for me to continue that thought.

But I did nothing of the sort, and instead turned the conversation to another matter. I let his hands fall to his sides, and leaned my back against the rail. “So… Do you always get jealous of talking skeletons?” I asked coyly.

The smile on his face faltered slightly, and I had to bite my tongue from laughing at his semi-defeated expression. He parted his lips slightly, taking a moment to form his response. He smoothly replied with, “I’d like to think a man would never question his lady’s loyalty.”

I pursed my lips in amusement, “Oh? Well, liking to and actually doing it are two different things.”

He leaned his arms against the rail, facing the sea as he turned to look at me. He swiftly lit another cigarette, trying to hide his own smile behind it now that he picked up on my humorous intent behind my words. “It’s the thought that counts.”

I playfully elbowed him in the ribs, “Not sure that thought was there in the first place.”

He let out a puff of smoke, taking my physical jab without a problem, “Can you blame me?”

“He’s a skeleton.”

He eyed me up and down, “You have one too. And a hot one at that,” he smirked.

I rolled my eyes, “Whatever.”

He let out a laugh, letting our playful banter continue through much of the rest of the afternoon.

[bitteriekitten]

yeehaw. (1/2)

synopsis — save a horse, ride a cowboy or whatever it is that they're saying out there in the wild west. OR the l&ds boys as cowboys. (1/2)

contents — fem!reader, fluff, terrible attempts at writing crack ??????, weak attempts at banter el oh el, reader has a dad who runs a ranch and she works at the ranch alongside the l&ds boys, vague descriptions of ranch life (all source material i have for the ranch lifestyle are all from the cowboy romances i've read. sry), farmhand!xavier, livestock veterinarian!zayne, (brief descriptions of) riding instructor!rafayel, sweaty stinky and shirtless l&ds cowboys, swearing, suggestive content and language, and probably so many more that i've overlooked. lmk if i missed anything !!!

featuring — xavier, zayne, & rafayel (separate fics)

notes — if infold comes out with a cowboy AU multibanner best believe i'm spending half of my life savings just to get all of them 😍 but fr, this was rly fun to make!! i've been referring to the cowboy romances that i read during my hiatus to write this, so i apologize if this isn't an exact replica of the cowboy lifestyle. u can catch sylus and caleb in part 2 <3 i had to separate them bc their AUs are different from what i cooked up for xav zayne and raf (hint: they're bull-riders eheheheh). feedback is most appreciated and if u have any more requests (or jus want to scream abt l&ds with me), you can drop them down in my ask box - no matter how unhinged or wholeseome they may be <3

check out my other stuff here ❤️‍🔥

you stumbled out of your room yawning, startled awake by multiple loud crashes down at the ranch, which was conveniently right outside your window. laughter sounded outside, followed right after by something being dropped and some colorful swearing. you vaguely remembered snoring through your father telling you that he had hired some extra hands, three or so men he’d met at a bar in town. so you couldn’t really be mad at them for being rowdy so early in the morning – they were cowboys. plus it was so early in the morning, you didn't have the energy yet to be pissed. “looks like the princess is finally awake.” your father called from the dining table. he quickly poured orange juice in an empty glass for you. “i don’t wanna hear anything about how fuckin’ loud they are down at the ranch. you should’ve been used to waking up early by now anyway.” “i wasn’t going to.” you said with an eye roll, but thanked him for the orange juice anyway. you then stepped outside, haphazardly putting on shoes to go around the back to see what the new help were doing.

Xavier stuck out like a sore thumb at the ranch, with his light hair and youthful face, but he was definitely still a sight for sore eyes out on the field. when he wasn't handling the livestock, he was moving around bales of hay and other heavy equipment, his biceps bulging and his jaw tense from the effort.

you'd spot him out on the field wearing nothing but grimy jeans, a white hat, a pair of boots, and a pair of leather gloves as he moved a new shipment of hay. it was why you were grateful for a window by your bed; you had full free access to ogle at anything and everything he did out there.

but it was also why you hated it. xavier somehow knew when you'd be watching him, like it was instinctual for him (or you were just staring too much that it bordered on creepiness). he'd catch your eye through the window just as he hauled another bale into the back of his truck, and smile when you'd quickly turn away in embarrassment.

he was a hit with the kids and the chickens, handling them their milk and feed in record time and effectively shutting them up for the next five hours. the horses were a different story with xavier, though. you often had to help him out with them, as they sometimes get a bit picky on who gets to feed and generally care for them.

you couldn't help but find it hilarious that both xavier and the horses flinch whenever they see and come into any kind of contact with each other. he's had a few extremely close calls with their back legs, but they eventually managed to warm up enough for xavier to finally begin sensitivity training for them.

speaking of sensitivity training, you were surprised to spot him outside your home about to knock on your door.

"xavier?" you called, opening the door for him before he could rap his fist on the wood.

"hey, y/n." xavier greeted you as he placed his hand over at the top of your doorframe, leaning over you with his entire height. you gulped at how he was basically towering over you, his shadow covering most of your figure.

"do you think i can borrow your dresses for the horses?" he asked, in the same tone he would use when he would ask for a basket of eggs.

you blanched, taken aback from his request as your flustered state immediately broke. "um. i don't think my dresses will fit the horses." you replied with an eyebrow raised.

"no, it's for me." xavier quickly reassured you, pointing to himself, but it did little to actually reassure you. "i'm starting to do sensitivity training on the new horses we're fostering, and i forgot to bring my usual stuff from my apartment." he said.

you scoffed at his ridiculousness, and how serious he was taking his ridiculousness. "uh... i don't think my dresses will fit you either." you replied, this time with a chuckle you couldn't hold back. your eyes flitted over his figure subconsciously, and he caught you in the act with a smirk.

"how would you know that, y/n?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, his hat tilting along with the movement.

your cheeks burned in embarrassment and you turned away from him, avoiding his eyes that were suddenly very interested in you. "what color did you want that dress, xavier?" you asked instead, walking to your bedroom with him following behind with a chuckle.

xavier in a bright yellow dress over his jeans that barely zipped up his back still managed to look good. he also decided to ditch his hat for one of your ribbon headbands, and also snatched up your father's old new year's glasses from 2006. you held back a laugh behind the palm of your hand as you watched him, wanting to keep it professional for his sake at least.

armed with a folding umbrella, xavier stood by one of the brown horses, who refused to make eye contact with him. he quickly tightened his grip around the rope holding the horse, then clicked open the umbrella, to which the horse flinched back and pulling xavier with him.

you couldn't hold back your laugh when xavier stumbled at the force of the horse's movements. he looked back at you with a grin of his own.

"enjoying yourself, y/n?" he asked.

"very much so," you replied, still laughing.

it continued on for several hours, with xavier getting up to anything just to startle the poor horse. there truly was no wrong way to go about desensitizing a horse - dropping things accidentally and mixing up words managed to work anyway.

by the end of the session, the horse still flinched at the slightest of sudden sounds and movement, but it was less violent now - that's a win in xavier's book. you retired back to your front porch with a book and a pitcher of iced tea after xavier's antics got boring by the 30-minute mark.

you snorted when the cowboy walked up your porch still in your dress and other accessories in hand. he had his hat on this time instead of your headband, which contrasted greatly against the yellow dress he still had on. the dress had dirt on the edges of the skirt and mud splatters over the torso, which also splattered over the side of his neck.

it was infuriating how he still managed to look so fucking good.

"you're doing the laundry for that one." you told him instead, laughing loudly as he approached you. he took your half-empty glass of iced tea and drank all of it in one go.

"i think i managed to zip this thing up completely after i crawled in between shane's legs." xavier said as he poured himself another glass.

you snorted, "why'd you give the horse a human name?"

xavier shrugged, "he looked like a shane."

you laughed again, and xavier smiled to himself as he finished drinking up his second glass of iced tea. he set down the glass back on its coaster and turned his back to you, "can you unzip me? i cant reach the zipper now that it's zipped all the way up."

you laughed as your hands reach up to undo the zipper. it only zipped up to his lower back, right below where his hard chest couldn't be squeezed into the fabric. but miraculously it managed to zip all the way up.

"never thought i'd be the one unzipping my dress from another person." you joked. xavier turned his head to you with a raised eyebrow and one corner of his lips upturned into a smirk.

"oh? did you want me to unzip your dress for you, then?" he teased as the zipper finally opened up enough for him to take his arms out of the dress's sleeves.

"i- xavier!" you exclaimed, face slowly heating up again like he did earlier in the day.

you stared at his glistening back as he stepped out of the dress through the skirt. xavier turned to face you this time, folding your dress neatly into one hand. his head tilted to the side and a deceivingly innocent smile appeared on his face as he held out his hand for you to take.

"come on. show me where you do your laundry." he said, back to his innocent antics like he didn't just give you a heart attack.

Zayne looked like he should be the last person working at a ranch. he showed up like he stumbled upon the wrong place at the wrong time, his eyes unsure and uneasy.

but then your father quickly steered him to the heavily pregnant goat inside the barn, whose leg was sprained after it got knocked over during the night. zayne quickly got to work to bandaging up the poor mom, managing to get its leg healed and working in no time.

you often just stood by the veterinarian in astonishment, just watching zayne work his magic onto the other livestock. he was probably the only rancher you've seen who never gets plucked at by the chickens, or be head-butted by the goats, or have the horses flinch away from his touch. you've had your fair share of veterinarians at the ranch, but they were never as young and efficient (and honestly, handsome) as he was.

when he wasn't out checking up on the livestock, zayne was moving around bales of hay and heavy equipment. you didn't know why you were surprised that a man as handsome and capable as zayne had a toned body of his own - walking around the ranch with just a oil-stained wife-beater, muddy jeans, and a pair of worn down boots.

zayne was quiet, kept to himself most of the time, and did his job quickly and orderly. he was practically every rancher's wet dream in terms of being responsible. you had to give it to him for being passionate about his work; it was clear as day that your father loved having him out at the field.

safe to say, you had grown a little fond of the stoic doctor, despite his apparent disinterest in you. he only ever spared you hums and nods of acknowledgement whenever you'd assist him, and preferred to reply to you in monosyllabic sentences.

it was hilarious to think that this was literally all you had to gain your silly crush on him - just assisting him whenever he needed it and being at arm's length from him.

still, it was enough for you to have your cheeks flushing whenever you saw him, or stand beside him as he worked. because at least you had something to look forward to when waking up for another grueling day at the field. you've long accepted that he will never realistically be interested in you at all, and that everything between the two of you was to be kept strictly professional.

but if you were being honest with yourself, a tiny bit of hope was still clinging onto the tendrils of your heart - that maybe, maybe he feels the same way as you do.

it was the little things he did; it might as well be a figment of your imagination with how seldom it happens. but you know that his eyes following you from across the barn means something, or that the way his hand guides you out of the way from a fussy horse isn't just a thing he does all the time. you know, deep down in your heart, there's something there.

however, each time it happens, as you lay down on your bed every night, staring up at your ceiling in the dark, you remind yourself once more - everything between the two of you was to be kept strictly professional.

but it was on a friday evening that you and zayne were alone out on the field. the little bonfire he made crackled and popped, mixing in with the sounds of the quiet night at the countryside. you walked out of the house with candied fruits and iced tea, a small reward for the hard work done for the day. zayne accepted the fruit enthusiastically - he seemed to have a sweet tooth.

"any plans for the weekend, dr. zayne?" you asked. zayne shook his head and sipped on his iced tea.

"no - i'd rather be here." he replied.

"ah..." you nodded, a little embarrassed at how quickly he shot down your attempt in small talk. "...well, me too. the bar down town's a little grungy, anyway." you said, a feeble crack at filling up the silence between the both of you.

zayne hummed and nodded, taking another sip of his drink. "i'd rather be here with you."

the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you tried to process his words, his voice, his everything. you turned to him, unsure of what to say - what to do, "wh- what?"

zayne, to your horror, looked completely serious. what a bad time to remember that he rarely ever joked around, especially with you. "i like your company, y/n." he said, a hint of a smile on his lips. "i'd rather stay here in the quiet with you after a long day of work than to go anywhere else for the weekend."

your heartbeat quickening, you tried to think of something to say, something smart or witty to reply to his sudden confession. but you were helplessly blanking out. "o-oh. um... i wasn't expecting you to say that."

zayne cocked his head to the side, still keeping his gaze on you. "what did you expect me to say, y/n?"

you shrug with a singular shoulder, squirming helplessly underneath his gaze. "i dunno - that you're busy. or have to work overnight." literally anything else that doesn't make me hope that i have a chance for you.

"i managed to finish the day's work in record time, and i don't like working outside my work hours." zayne replied matter-of-factly, adjusting the watch on his wrist. "and that's because of your help. you help me maintain my work that i don't see the need to work overtime. at this rate, you must be sick of seeing me."

"what? no, i don't." you replied in shock.

"really?" zayne asked, his lips forming a wide smile this time. "you're by my side almost 24/7 down at the ranch at work. wouldn't you be appalled that i still want to spend my time with you after work?"

you scoffed in disbelief, frazzled by his sudden confessions coming at you from all sides. you avoid his eyes, still intently staring at you, burning holes into your skin at this point. "i'm more surprised that you want to see me all the time." you said softly.

"why, do you want to see me all the time?"

you hadn't noticed that zayne had moved to sit right beside you. you flinched at the warm shoulder that bumped against yours, rendering you breathless as you faced him, your eyes finally meeting his.

no words were exchanged. you hoped your your hammering heartbeat was enough of an answer for him. no words were actually exchanged, as you were too busy leaning in to kiss him while the bonfire slowly burned out into the starry night.

Rafayel liked to show up at the ranch early in the morning. while you were still busy catching up on sleep, he's already working on a few stuff around the barn. you were often not-so-rudely woken up by some drilling and hammering down at the ranch, and more often than not it was because rafayel saw something wrong with the equipment and thought that it needed some quick fixing.

it quickly became part of your routine to cuss him out through your window.

"can't you keep that shit down?! it's ass crack o'clock!" you yelled with your eyes still struggling to open all the way. rafayel paused from hammering at the fence he just fixed and turned to you with one eye closed and a delighted grin.

"sorry that i'm trying to fix the squeaking fence you were complaining about the other day, cutie!" he replied sarcastically, then proceeded to ignore your demands to continue hammering on the wood.

it went on like that as he got around the ranch. you'd complain about how loud he was being, and he'd have a witty quip for you already locked and loaded. you did your best to have as little interaction with him at the ranch as possible, but with how often your tasks coincided with his, it was almost impossible not to run into him.

he always had that exasperating, devastatingly handsome smile on his face whenever you cross paths at the ranch. with your eyes downcast, you always tried to pretend you hadn't even noticed him, doing something on your phone or checking if you'd stepped on something as he passed by you. you'd let out a sigh of relief as he just leaves without saying anything else to you, but you don't miss the cheeky laugh that trails after you.

"honestly cutie, you're like, my favorite co-worker." rafayel declared after hauling the trash out on the back. you scoffed at his words, appalled that he'd even say that out loud. "i'm the only lunatic who's crazy enough to work the same shifts as you." you replied.

"exactly. great minds think alike, no?" rafayel winked at you, lurching your heart to your throat in surprise.

"you're a dumbass."

your father quickly got rafayel to do horseback riding lessons for visitors and tourists at the ranch - he was young and had a boyish charm to him that hollywood liked to give cowboys in their movies. children loved the friendly cowboy with the winning smile, who has a steady hand over their backs and another on the horse's reins.

but he was especially a hit with the women, who bat their eyelashes at the cowboy and squirm in delight when he tells them to hold onto the reins tighter with a firm voice. either rafayel was clueless to their blatant flirting, or he just didn't care. the amount of filth these women had spewing out their mouths was honestly laughable.

and you don't blame them at all. rafayel was indeed gorgeous, despite how infuriating he was to talk to most of the time. but you don't go around telling that kind of information to anybody else; he'd have a field day if he finds out that his "favorite co-worker" thought he had pretty eyes and soft hair that she'd like to touch.

nothing ever really comes out of the flirting, though. unlike the average cowboy, rafayel didn't care much about attracting the most amount of admirers. he's always hard at work, like he's got something to prove. he fixes leaking pipes, screws and unscrews things, and can paint murals on the back of barns like nothing. he has his eyes set on something else, it seemed.

"cutie! wait up!"

just as you were about to climb up into your truck, rafayel caught up with you. he was sweating all over, his clothes stained with oil and mud, and a part of his cheek covered in streaks of mud. he furiously wiped away the dirt on his face with a damp towel as he approached you. despite all the grime that covered him, he still managed to smell like expensive perfume.

"you stink, rafayel." you said despite that, moving away from him. rafayel gave you a little shrug and swept a hand through his hair, slicking it back with his sweat.

"some twin boys almost fell off a horse. somebody had to hold them away from the mud." he replied. he pointed to your truck with his thumb, grinning widely. "can i drive us to dinner?"

you raised an eyebrow at him, suspicious of his motives, to which he pouted and pulled out his ridiculous puppy-dog face at you. "please, y/n? i want that steak you told me to get last time i went with your dad." he pleaded.

"you want to go get steak without your boss?" you asked with a humorless laugh, turning away from him to open the door the driver's seat. "you asking me out on a date, rafayel?"

"duh." rafayel said, leaning on your truck with one arm against the side. he held out on hand and began listing down things with his fingers, "i'll pay for our meal, i'll be the best gentleman, and i'll take you home back home before 10. promise!"

you blanched at his insistence - you were truly only joking with him about the date, but whatever he's offering sounded really good. this was one of the many times he's tried to take you out somewhere, and you've only ever brushed him off every time he did so.

you glanced at rafayel's face, whose smile grew wider the more the silence stretched on. he leaned in closer, giving you a closer look at his handsome smile. you felt your resolve slowly crack away; you truly couldn't stand this cowboy...

"if you stop touching my radio, we'll get steak." you deadpanned.

"i'll skip only one song, cutie. just one, then i'll never judge your music taste again." rafayel bargained with his hands clasping together. you rolled your eyes at his ridiculousness, then tilted your head to your truck, signaling him to get in.

rafayel cheered as he quickly climbed up the driver's seat. you walked around to get to the front seat, shivering at the cold air gusting from the air-conditioning. rafayel slumped back into his seat, relieved to be away from the heat of the afternoon sun.

"your truck's soooo nice, y/n." he groaned in satisfaction, "you've got functioning air-conditioning, soft cushions, little to no scratches on the truck. you're a wonderful driver."

you snorted as you grabbed your box of CDs, looking through your selection. "if you actually know how to take care of your truck, you wouldn't be complimenting it like this." you said.

"but how else am i going to have a chance to be this close to you, cutie?" rafayel teased, sitting up straight this time and turning the truck on. dumbstruck at his response, you turned to him with your mouth agape. "are you dumb?" you asked.

rafayel shook his head. "nope, just think you're pretty."

you choked on a gasp. "rafayel!"

he laughed out loud as he put the truck in drive. "what?" he asked, pretending to look innocent.

you scoffed, "you're ridiculous."

"you like it."

you didn't respond, afraid that you'll say that you do.

taglist 𓂃۶ৎ jus tagging random users <3 hope u enjoy!!!

@berrryparfait @lioria @babypetri @hyunlixwife @zuhaeri @c9tnoos @sylusbigapples @dollyswishingwell @sixeyedgodswife @celestialforce @syxlx @dana-nite @lacejinnie @thearynn @feralkuromi @destinysrequiem @thesrtuggleisveryreal @orange-stars @mocha-the-muse @usertala @kpop-and-otome @serendididy @zephilyr @ywnzn @a-jynx @elitheidiot1 @almondtofuus @goldenroses @esspeon @froleineeeee

[edwardhartenjoyer]

Hi, can i please req a pt 2 of Drunken Night? What happens the next morning

Of course, Anon! I honestly kept meaning to make a part 2, but it kept slipping through the cracks, so thank you for helping me get my butt in gear

Drunken Night Delight Pt. 2

Haru groaned at the mild pounding in his head as he slowly came to consciousness. He really overdid it on the drinks last night, huh?

He was trying to rack his brain on what time it even was, the upcoming business of the day starting to weigh on his mind before he froze. He wasn't alone in bed.

He opened in his eyes and held his breath, as though he was afraid even breathing would disturb the scene playing out before him. There you were, fast asleep with your head tucked up against his chest and arms wrapped tightly around him.

He racked his brain, trying to remember what happened last night after he'd started drinking that led to you sleeping in bed with him. At least both of you had clothes on so he knew nothing happened. He was sure if he was happy or sad about that but didn't dwell on it as you shifted around.

He worried you were waking up and this peaceful momnet would end. Instead, you just nuzzled into him more, mumbling out a contented sigh that sounded suspiciously like his name.

He felt heat rise to his cheeks, and he gently wrapped his arms around you tighter. He knew he had to get up. He had so many things to get done, and Towa and Ren certainly weren't going to do them, but this was so nice.

He'd fallen hard for you. He'd been wanting to tell you, but he knew with your curse the last thing you needed to worry about was your feelings, so he held back, even though it killed him to not tell you. Instead, he'd found little ways to be near you, like calling you over to help out or coming to the bar when he knew you were going to be there helping Rui.

It didn't take long before you began to shift around again, this time as you were starting to wake up. Haru reluctantly let go of you and started to slip quietly out of the bed, hoping to be gone before you woke up and saw him.

He had no such luck, barely making it off the bed before you sat up, blinking sleep from your eyes as you looked to him "Haru?" You asked.

"Hey MC, morning sleepyhead! Sorry for whatever happened." He apologized, grinning sheepishly. You frowned a bit, suddenly looking sad.

"Oh. It's no worries, but um..do you remember anything you said last night?" You asked and he felt a brief wave of panic.

"Last night? Nope! All a blur!" He said quickly, and oh no, now you looked even sadder.

"Oh..okay, well, see you later I guess.." you mumbled, and oh god you looked sk heartbroken that Haru couldn't leave you.

"Hey, why don't you remind me what I said?" Haru asked, climbing back onto the bed to sit next to you.

"It's fine. You were probably just drunkenly rambling." You mumbled, refusing to look at him. He frowned. He had an idea of what he'd said, and judging by your reaction, he was pretty sure his guess was right. Though a part of him didn't dare hope he was correct.

"Did I tell you I love you?" He asked softly, "Because even if that's not what I said, then I'm saying it now."

You froze and slowly turned your head to look at him and he felt a spike of fear go through him. Oh he messed this up. He read your expression wrong and -

Suddenly, your lips were pressed against his, and he melted into your kiss, pulling you closer as he kissed you back.

When the kiss ended, you smiled softly at him, a faint blush on your cheeks. "I love you too, Haru."

[beef-brisket]

Adam: I-... did you call me an ass eater?

Between small fits of laughter, Teddy scolded Lucifer for calling his partner that name, but he couldn't being himself to sound actually mad.

Adam: Thanks for defending me, babe. Real knight in fucking shining armour, huh?

All Teddy could do was laugh, which quickly made Adam smile, forcing him to walk into the kitchen.

Lucifer smiled and hugged Charlie, she was nearly asleep which made his heart melt. Carefully, he stood and walked up to his room, and started getting her ready for bed.

Lucifer: There you go, love. Nice and cosy. You must be exhausted after spending time at the park.

The little girl smiled up at Lucifer before slowly falling asleep. He was so lucky she was an easy baby, he wouldn't know what he'd do if she wasn't.

-

After half an hour, he walked down stairs to find Adam cooking and Teddy going through some paperwork.

Lucifer: So, a trip huh? I thought you said you were done with them.

The older man looked up at his son as he joined him at the kitchen table: Yes, I thought so too... but, this is an important meeting, which will be great for the company if it goes well, and I can't trust anyone else to secure it. So, that's me off! To Switzerland!

Adam: Lucky bastard.

Lucifer: Oh, dad, you're not bringing your walking fle- no. I wont finish that sentence.

Adam: Good call. Especially if you don't want me to spit in your food.

Teddy: Oh, hush you two! You'll have to really start getting along! You both will be living alone together for at least two weeks! Please, Addie? Do this for me?

Adam: Me-?! Fine. You know what? I'll be the bigger person-.

Lucifer smirked: Both literally and metaphorically.

Slamming the spoon down, Adam turned and pointed his finger at Lucifer: Little here, you little rodent, I'm not big, my jersey is made of wool and it's baggy on me, alright?! That just makes me look bug- when I'm not!

Lucifer glanced at his dad.

Teddy: ...He's... oh, what's the word... thicc.

Sugar baby!au

This one's a bit different- maybe because I love Adam being a little shit 👀

Lucifer and Adam used to be best friends in high school, but they had a falling out after Adam caught Lucifer and his girlfriend at the time, Lilith, in her bed.

After Adam moved schools, they didn't see each other for ten years. Lucifer went on to do woodworking and eventually made a toy start up. And after Lilith left him, he was forced to move back in with his dad.

Since he moved in, his dad wouldn't stop gushing about some singer he's dating. Lucifer didn't really care, he has his own issues. But when he saw the person his dad was dating, Lucifer was disgusted- and extremely annoyed.

-

Adam: Sup, loser.

Lucifer: What the hell are you doing here?!

Adam smirked: I'm fucking your dad, shit lips!

-

Queue Lucifer's compain to destroy his father's relationship with Adam- who's obviously using him to fun his music career.

Adam's having a great time pissing Lucifer off, but he also hates the fact that he still has a crush on his ex best friend.

I love this so fucking much. I want to do this simply for this line: You want to date my dad? Fine. But he is a good man and deserves to be happy so you're either with him because you love him, or step away.

And Lucifer is only staying with his dad because Lilith got the fucking house lol He's looking for a new one but the market is a MESS.

Maybe Lilith calls Lucifer up and says she's pregnant adding to another layer of it. Because not only is he getting divorced but there's a custody battle in future.

[markell3]

the other woman - j.m

james marriott x fem!reader

word count: 1442 words

summary: you like james. he likes you. you are both oblivious idiots in love.

request: james marriott fic where he and reader are friends but she really like him and on a night out he kisses some random girl. Reader sees and gets sad but when he realizes she's sad cause he kissed another girl he confesses to her.

James Marriott is a man that many would call 'Angelic. You would say the same to be fair, but could never admit it out loud.

That was the main problem that you faced with James, no matter how close the two of you got, you could never be fully honest with him, because being completely honest with him would mean telling him your love for him. You would rather die with not knowing if he feels the same than risk losing him forever.

You met James on a night out in Brighton. You went to a pub with friends for a good night out and saw him, up on stage, playing a gig to a crowd with a large number of people with dyed hair. Lot's of people with blue hair jumping and singing their hearts out to this man with a guitar.

As his set ended and he came off stage, he went to the bar to order, sitting right next to you. After almost spilling your margarita all over the front of his pants, the two of you hit it off straight away. You have been inseparable since then.

But with proximity comes problems.

You see, spending more and more time with James has many benefits, as he is probably the most amazing man that has ever walked the earth. It does, however, come with a ridiculously large crush that could rival one of a teenage girls.

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

It was the annual Sidemen Christmas party, where drinks are flowing and conversations are blooming across Bez's house. You had been invited as a plus one, the invite obviously coming from James. You don't know how he had been invited but assumed it was through the help of Will.

As you enter the house, thick coat wrapped tightly around your shivering body, you scan the open planned house in search for the man of the hour.

Your eyes sweep the crowd, finally landing on him. A bright light that moves through the crowd lands on James at just the right moment, mid laugh and wearing the gorgeous jumper of his. You weave your way through the crowd, sorry's leaving your mouth as you accidently bump into people.

Just before you reach him, a voice pulls you out of your focus, eyes leaving James' figure to turn to the culprit.

"Hiya darling! Haven't seen you in a minute!" Faith. An angel sent from heaven that ended up with a nonce. You love Faith, you really do. Her timing, however, could be better. This isn't the first time she has interrupted your path to James and certainly wont be the last.

"Faith?! Long time no see?"

"I could ask you the same! Thought you vanished off the face of the Earth." Faith enthusiastically yells over the music, her smiles shining with a level of brightness that even the sun couldn't rival.

"Not vanished—just... hiding from scenes like this." You say, eyes looking beyond Faiths shoulder

"And yet here you are, in the middle of one."

"I got dragged. Blackmailed. Tricked with promises of good music and free drinks."

"Whoever did that deserves a thank-you card. It's really good to see you."

"It is really good to see you was well darling, but I have to go find James. But I will be back to talk in a bit, yeah?"

You walk off in search for James again, and again - like magic - he appears in a gap between the crowd. A smile appears on his face, looking down at someone who you can not see.

Shuffling through the crowd, you finally make it to him, however as you turn around a sight you never expected to see happened.

He was kissing a girl.

Not just regular, fun kiss. Full make-out session in the corner of Faith's mansion.

Your heart sunk, falling to the bottom of your stomach. You didn't want to look but you couldn't pull yourself away from the sight of it. The man you loved and cared for most in this world was kissing another girl.

Its hard, though. You couldn't be mad at him, I mean how could you, he isn't yours. This realisation came rushing at you at full force, he wasn't yours and he did not want you back.

Blinking tears away from your eyes, you leave, running away from your problems like always. The elevator to you right dinged as people got off from coming back from upstairs. You run to the door, entering the elevator and pressing the top floor, the rooftop sounds like a perfect place to be to cry your heart out, doesn't it?

The elevator dings as it reaches the rooftop. The doors open to a beautiful scene, fairy lights scattered across the railing of the roof and a beautiful outside lounge set to complete the cozy atmosphere. You pick one of the chairs to sit on and let it all out, every emotion you have ever held towards James coming out in a streaming trail of tears and cries.

After a while, you finally compose yourself, whipping your tear stained cheeks and breathing in a deep sigh. Suddenly, the ding of the elevator sounds, bringing you out of your state entirely, reminding you where exactly you are.

Heavy boots pad towards where you are sitting and all of a sudden James head appears from around the corner.

"Hey," He says, cautiously walking towards you. "Is everything okay? I saw you for a second then you completely disappeared?"

"No everything is not fine, James". You turn to face him, standing up to try to be on his level. Regadless of your height, you still had to crane your neck to look this man in the eyes. "I am going to be honest with you now because I have held this in for too long its taking over me."

James looks into your eyes concerned, his expression reassuring you that no matter what you revealed to him, that you were there for him.

"I like you, James. A lot actually, and I can't keep going on like this and holding it from you, when I saw you kissing that girl I knew that what i thought was real wasn't and I just needed a moment to process what happened and-"

"Woah, slow down" He cuts you off, stepping closer to you. "You like me?"

"Yeah, I have for a while now"

His eyes move over your face, taking in every detail of it. You stand in silence, just looking at each other, breaths in time with the others.

"For the love of god James, say something" You look up at him stepping closer, hands going to his chest to try and snap him out of whatever trance he had been put under.

His hands move to your cheeks, cupping them and pulling you closer. A breath is stolen from you as he moved closer, his eyes searching yours for answers.

"I'm so glad you feel the same"

He moves slow, his mouth coming to yours at a pace that felt both too quick but too slow. The second contact was made, feelings you didn't kow you expressed for James erupted with in you. Magic would be the only real word to describe the feelings you felt.

His mouth moves against yours in an angelic way, gentle but desperate, like he had been waiting just as long for this moment. His thumbs brush over your cheeks, grounding you, as his lips mold to yours: soft, certain, and full of every unsaid thing lingering between you.

The world feels quiet, time slowing to nothing but the steady rhythm of your heart thudding wildly in your chest. His lips move in perfect sync with yours, tentative at first, then deepening as the walls finally crumble between you both.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, his breath uneven, eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips. "I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I?" he murmurs, his voice rough around the edges but laced with relief.

You manage a small, breathless laugh, hands still pressed to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. "The biggest," you whisper, a teasing smile curling at the edges of your lips.

James chuckles softly, his hands trailing down to your waist, anchoring you there. "Guess I’m lucky you put up with me anyway."

His eyes soften, and without another word, he leans in again—this time with no hesitation, no questions, just the undeniable certainty that this moment, this feeling, was real.

An Angel had truly made this man because god all-mighty, he was perfect.

note: thank you to @mcgarrets-world for the ask!! this is my first fan fic i have ever written, so i hope you like it y'all! please let me know if anyone would like any more in the future. I currently have one in the works but god knows when that will be out. hope everyone has a good day/night! much love

[imbaebi]

Bingsu Gone Wrong??

ִֶָ࣪☾. 한지숭 —

paring: bf!han x m!reader

genre: miscellaneous fluff

warnings: none?

wc / cc : 909 / 4.8k

skz summer masterlist

synopsis —---

all you wanted was to make some patbingsu but somehow ice flew everywhere around your kitchen so now you're left with puddles and a pouty han jisung

—-- ⪩⪨⪩⪨

It was hot, like really hot these pass few days. You stayed inside mostly, because each and every time you stepped outside you felt like you would melt from either the sun's heat rays or the humid Korean air. Yeah, staying inside was a must. Thank God you worked at home.

It was a lazy afternoon, you had clocked out early since you finished all your work. Now you are scrolling through your feed while laying on the couch. You come across a video of a bingsu review. You were suddenly craving the shaved ice dessert. You could totally make some right now... You get off the couch, quickly heading over to the kitchen. You open your fridge, you had some left over sweet red beans from another dish you made a couple days ago, mangos and blueberries. You knew you also had condensed milk as well.

The door bell suddenly rings. You weren't expecting anyone but you had an idea of who may be at the door. You open the door to reveal your boyfriend, Jisung.

    “Hi Handsome.” He greets. You had only opened the door for just a second before the giant blast of heatwave hits your face. You pull him inside and shut the door to keep the hot air out.

    “Babe, you're just in time. I was about to make some patbingsu.” You explain as he follows you to the kitchen. You have everything you need to make the treat, all that's left was to shave the ice. “Want to help?”

    “Sure!”

You take out your blender from the bottom cabinet before plugging it in the outlet. You take a big bowl to the fridge to get some ice. Once there was enough ice, you bring the bowl to the counter.

    “You can do the ice while I cut up the fruit.” You instruct your boyfriend with a simple task.

    “Alrighty, that I can do.” You nod before going over to the cutting board. You only need to cut the mangos, there was no need to cut the blueberries for they were tiny enough. Jisung watches you go about the plain task of cutting the fruit. There was just something about the way you were doing it which he found attractive. Like how your muscles slightly flexed when you put pressure on the knife, and how your face looked when focused.

“Honey, the ice will melt before you even get a chance to shave it if you keep staring at me like you are now,” you chide with a shake of your head but you couldn't stop the grin from appearing on your face.

    “Right. I can't help it though, you're too handsome.” He whines before dumping the ice into the machine.

“Ji, make sure—” Before you could tell him to make sure the lid was closed properly, before you even got the words out, Jisung starts the machine. And well, you couldn't warn him soon enough. The blender lid flys off.

Ice pieces begin to fly all over the kitchen making Jisung let out a string of swears as he tries to turn it off. When he finally turns it off, the counters, floors, his face and even the ceiling was wet.

    “Holy shit!” You laugh when you saw the water dripping from his face, the view was too funny to not laugh. Your boyfriend pouts. “Wow! I was but a second to late to prevent this.”

You go and pat his head. “It's alright, Ji. We'll just clean this up and start again.”

You grab a couple paper towels and hand him some. You two clean up the mess in no time. But the pout was still on Jisung's face. He looks so cute with his jieekies and adorable pout. You couldn't help but kiss him. His pout melts off his lips as he kisses you back. His back hits the counter. You pull back.

    “Let's try this again, but this time you make sure the blender lid on tight, hmm?” He blushes at the octave your voice lowers to. The position was rather intimate too, you towering him while he's trapped against the counter was doing things to his heart.

    “Y-yeah.” He swallows hard.

You smirk a bit before taking a step back. You reach over to take the bowl and fill it up with ice once again. You bring it back over to Jisung who then dumps it into the blender with slight shakey hands. You must have really affected his heart a minute ago. This time he makes sure the lid was tightly secure before he turns on the blender. The kitchen soon fills with the sound of the machine spinning the blades to crush up the ice inside. After a couple minutes the ice was good enough for the bingsu.

You take out the bowls from the freezer and place them onto the counter. You poke Jisung's side while you reach over for the blender. You put the ice inside the bowls, then you place the mangos and blueberries on top, the red beans next, you had some mochi as well so you put those on top and lastly you drizzle condensed milk over the whole thing. It was done.

You hand your boyfriend his bowl and you take yours too. First bite was cold and refreshing, the perfect thing you needed this summer. Jisung hums in delight.

    “Wanna watch Sailor moon?” You ask before taking another bite.

    “Always.”

©2025 imbaebi — all rights reserved, I don't allow copy of my work. Inspiration is one thing, plagiarism is another. reblogging is appreciated.

skz summer masterlist

taglist — (ask to be added to the skz taglist cause this one is closed now) ;

@lezleeferguson-120, @swagblazemilkshake,

[mymusingss]

What really gets me about Chris and Tom is just how differently things could have been.

McQ was in director jail, couldn't make anything work and was about to give up on Hollywood when he heard someone talk shit about Tom and for some reason his first thought was "no way!". After hearing that, he decided to meet Tom in person going through great lenghts to do so.

This could have easily been the case of McQ hearing that and being like "oh" and moved on with his life.

Tom - who went through directors like no else's business and whose career was at a all time low - talked to him for mere hours and just knew that he'd spend the rest of his life doing movies with him.

Later, McQ would attribute them meeting to sheer coincidence or an accident, and sure him listening to that person talk shit about Tom could have been a coincidence (or not, who knows?), but he chose to go to that meeting because he didn't like to hear someone talk shit about a man he didn't even know yet.

People joke Tom knew instantly while it took McQ a while to figure it out, but I do think that those who think that aren't wrong. I can a see a world where Mr. "Suffers from imposter syndrome" wouldn't go down as quietly as Tom would.

The progression is noticeable.

It is important to note that McQ has stated that his relationship with Tom isn't built on them feeling like they owe each other anything. Everything they've done was because they wanted it to.

McQ coming back after Rogue Nation was because he wanted it to. He chalked it up to Tom being persuasive, but we all know the truth. Tom would understand if McQ wanted to give the script to another director, McQ was the one that chose to stay even when he knew that would mean being stressed out and sleep deprived for years to come.

However, we see McQ going from treating Tom like his own thing and feeling like an outsider, to him saying that they were sort of outsiders in the industry speaks levels to the growing comfort they felt with each other. This is proven by the fact that when Tom and Chris talk, they rarely say "I". Is always "we". "We decided on the ending", "we decided to do this", "we chose this route". Even if is writing, which is Chris' thing, he rarely says "I".

McQ went from having preconceived notions of Tom to working with him like no else's business, to understanding him in a level we have yet to see any other director understand Tom. Case in point, we just had Kosinski implying Tom doesn't know his own limits meanwhile Chris takes every chance he gets to talk about how Tom does this for the audiences.

I will always stand by that their partnership is more than other actors and directors partnerships we have.

It is cute that they call each other creative soulmates, it is cute that Chris can't seem to be able to say no to Tom, it is cute that these two don't need to say anything to each other because they know each other so well they can tell what the other is thinking.

But it is more than that by now. And you can absolutely tell. Chris literally implied he'd rather be in a helicopter with Tom in the event of something going wrong, has literally suggested he'd rather die with him, those are some heavy implications to make from a man with a wife and two daughters, if you ask me.

So yeah, all of this all thanks to that random person that was talking shit about Tom. I wonder if they know they're the reason they met? Honestly, I'm like: "well screw you for saying shit about him but also THANK YOU!"

[pucksandpebbles]

𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒂 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏', 𝒎𝒄⁷¹

a short fic in which Mack notices a girl on the ice and cannot get her out of his head because of just how much they have in common macklin celebrini x figureskater!reader

a/n : my first mack fic ahhhhh! I wanted to do this as a dual pov so it felt more 'x reader' but then couldn't be arsed so this is all Mack pov!

A disclaimer btw, reader's nickname is 'Princess' and sometimes that's how Mack refers to her but otherwise it's pretty much 'x reader' because she isn't named. The way I write reader fics can be so specific cause I hate doing the y/n thing so this may read a little like my oc fics. I also know nothing about figure skating except the basics and have no idea about the goings on at the Shark Tank so don't come for me.

Absolutely nooooo proofreading sorry guys if there's mistakes. Always remember to show love and don't be a silent reader - I love your thoughts and without y'all I probably wouldn't be writing so thank you. And we are soooo close to 200 followers, I cannot believe it.

wc: 1.9k

There’s a girl on the ice at the Shark Tank. Clad all over in a black material that clings to her skin, hair whipping from side to side even though it’s secured in a pony tail, even her skates are an even-toned black, speckled with bits of ice, the only part of her not in black, not covered in a material are her hands. Despite the way she’s skating, rushed and powerful, Macklin thinks that she must be cold - her hands that is, especially with the way in which, when she does the cantilever, her fingertips brush at the ice below her. With a strength that is deep set in her bones, she charges across the ice, powering her high and complex jumps and landing with an elegance that would be impossible to master for Macklin. She’s a figure skater, obviously. Occasionally, some of them book out the stadium for practice, it’s not often though and usually they’re accompanied by their trainers and teammates - but as Macklin looks around the empty seats of the stadium, he spots nobody. 

She’s stayed past her allotted time. But Macklin’s also here early, lacing up his hockey skates for a pre-practice practice, his own personal warm-up that he can do without any prying eyes. Now he’s the prying eyes, watching mesmerised as the skater performs her toe-loops and a quad or two. It’s impressive to him.

He watches as she propels herself up into the air, arms pulling into her chest and long hair wrapping around her face. This time when she lands though, she stumbles and her other leg flies over and she goes tumbling to the ice, the momentum of the jump carrying through to slide her away from the scene of the incident, sat with her legs outstretched. She buries her head in her hands and cries out and Macklin shoots to his feet and rushes to the plexiglass to see if she’s okay.

Against his better judgement of staying quiet and unnoticed, Macklin shouts out across the ice to disturb the skater, “Are you okay?”

Her head pricks up and she stumbles to her feet and her skates haphazardly, skating tenderly to the plexiglass where Macklin is standing.

“Fine, sorry were you waiting for the ice?” She smiles apologetically, stepping off the ice and reaching for her guards.

Macklin shakes his head, “It’s okay, not really,” she sits on one of the benches, unlacing her states and tugging a hoodie out of her skate bag to pull over her head, Macklin watches intently and then realises he’s being a bit of a creep - the best that he can force out is, “Your skating was impressive.”

She practically bats away the compliment, smile souring into a hard set line, “Not really. I fell, couldn’t make the quad in case you noticed.”

“Well, it looked impressive to me.” Macklin combats the self-depreciation, the line sounding awfully familiar. Usually he was on the other end of this type of conversation.

The girl shakes her head, “I need that quad to make the team.”

Macklin sits down beside her as she swaps over her shoes and takes her earbuds out, “You seem like you’re working very hard for it.”     

She smiles, brushing through her loose hair now, Macklin watches the soft waves unfold along her back, “You too. You’re a shark aren’t you?”

“The centre, Mack,” he formally introduces himself, extending a hand out to her to shake which she takes with a giggle.

Her amusement is barely hidden and she slides her hand against Mack’s and softly shakes it up and down as a greeting, “Nice to meet you Mack.”

“You’re not going to tell me your name,” Mack questions.

She smirks as she stands up, pulling her skating bag, a light beige coloured and highly battered, onto her shoulder, “You can figure it out. But people call me the Axel Princess in the skating world.”

“How about Princess then,” Macklin shouts to her as she makes her way through the stadium away from Macklin, evidently towards the exit.

She turns to him, walking backwards slowly, a sweet smile appearing on her face, “Princess, I don’t mind it.”  

Macklin thinks about ‘Princess’ through all the way up until practice, as he run drills silently and alone on the ice. He thought it would be nice if she had stayed to watch, leaning back in the stadium seat as he warmed up until he was warm and his hair was wet underneath his helmet. The drills strain at his muscles in a burn that Macklin pretends the enjoy - it’s for the good of him, for the good of the game, for the good of the team. When he returns to the locker room before actual practice, he’s puffed out and jelly-legged, having pushed himself more than usual. Spaced out as he thought of the girl of the ice, how her limbs must burn with the exertion of how she propels herself up and off the ice and lands back to the ice in a hip-shattering movement, and then just carries on.

He’s heard about some of the San Jose figure skaters before, most of the hockey players look upon them with scorn, a little bit of a rivalry. There’s no artistry in hockey like there is in figure skating and ice dance, and the two sports operate in almost completely different ways. Hockey players build up and figure skaters slim down - most of the skaters burn out by the time they reach their twenties. Macklin remembers the exhaustion under her eyes, dark purple circles and the tape covering the bit of her skin visible to him when she came closer. She was small too, skinny, a small woman but able to produce such a performance on ice, it was incredible. It’s a sight that is familiar to Macklin, when he goes home and his father trains him and Aiden until they drop. It’s his second season with the sharks and when he returned after his first, he remembers how Toffoli had pulled him to the side, told him he looked exhausted, and asked if he was okay because he didn’t seem himself. Macklin had shook him off, it was for the better he said to himself but he couldn’t even bring himself to believe it.

He wondered if it was the same for Princess. If she worked herself to the bone like Macklin did because she felt inadequate. Not good enough, even if everyone around her was saying that she was perfect, the best, number fucking one.    

Macklin couldn’t stop thinking about her all through practice, and then in the locker room when he would usually be chatting with Toff and Ekky, even on the drive home with Will, he keeps strangely silent, thinking of the next time he might see her again.

Mack must be a psychic. 

Because Mack does see her again. It’s when he, Will, Ekky and Toff are filtering into the stadium before practice. This time she is on ice with what looks to be a trainer. A stern looking woman dressed in a warm fur coat and yelling at her across the ice; with each screeching yell, Macklin flinches, and watches as she takes it, a blank look washing across her face, making the only defining feature on her face the purple circles under her dull eyes which skitter across the ice. It catches Macklin’s attention immediately, and after a few curses from her trainer, Mack watches as Ekky and Will turn their attentions to what is happening out on their ice. 

As they walk past, Princess runs her jump again, the same one over and over and Mack watches as she fails in over and over, tumbling to the ice and getting back up. 

Toff looks concerned Mack notices, and he’s not the only one. But the boys do nothing, say nothing. It turns Mack’s stomach. Yet again, Mack can’t stop thinking about her all through practice. It’s eating away at his bones, and by the time he plonks down on the bench of the locker room after practice, and the incident is all but forgotten by his friends, he pulls out his phone.

He does what he must and googles her - The Axel Princess.

Headlines pop up instantly. Horrible ones, questioning her integrity, critiquing her performance despite the medals hung around her neck, commenting on her struggle with her body. Mack slams his phone back down. He can’t think about it. Can’t think about just how alike they must be.

She stays on the periphery of his life for almost half a year, until the Winter Olympics roll around. 

He knows that she’s been picked for the team, he has a google alert set up and that is how she finds out that she’s officially competing on the team, for the US. He goes to the Olympics, he’s not competing, but his father drags him and Aiden along to watch Canada compete and despite being herded by his dad around the event, he does slip away to watch the figure skating and watch her compete.

The routine is beautiful. Macklin cannot judge, obviously, he knows very little about figure skating, but to him it is beautiful.

He thinks that she spots him in the crowd, directs a little wave and moves on.

Her face is stern and hard as the hang a bronze medal around her neck and Mack thinks he might be able to see tear track streaking through her competition make-up. He’s been following her career since they first met and he’s watched as they predicted her to podium, one reporter even asked her if she thought she could win gold. She shook her head but her answer said it all. 

That anything but gold, was sub-par.

It made Mack’s throat clog up when he read the article.

He is desperate to get out there on the ice, to where she is wobbling on the make-shift podium. She looks as if she might keel over and spill her guts out on the pure white of the ice. Mack stands up and rushes down the stairs. There’s a slight bribing incident with security (the Olympics need better security desperately, he thinks), but he manages to get backstage.

They’re not close. Not really, by any means, have only talked once, it’s a strangely parasocial relationship and for a moment Macklin feels as if he has made a horrible mistake in coming here, doing this, misreading it all. However, almost as soon as she spots him, she melts into his arms, weeping and burying her head into his hoodie.

Macklin doesn't talk, doesn't question as she weeps salty tears onto his teal Sharks hoodie. His arms help support her as she leans into him, chest heaving and body limp against him - it breaks his heart a little.

He takes her back to his hotel room, makes sure she has a good shower, some comfortable clothes to dress in - they’re all Mack’s - and lets her cuddle up to him on the hotel bed and she eats a hamburger and they watch the movies on the horrible hotel channels. She lets him drag her around the rest of the event to watch Will and Ekky play and watch him try to avoid his dad and Aiden for the rest of the time in favour of her and Toff’s attention.

It’s the best week of his life. 

[mona-risms]

perchance relationship headcanons for mira w/ a gn reader?? i don’t really have too many ideas in mind so you can do whatever feels right 😭

◆ MAIN COURSE: Mira x gn!Reader

◆ TYPE: SFW

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: N/A

◆ NOTES: This req came running in a matter of mere mins since sending out that annoucement my GOD 🥰 THANK YOU 🥰🥰🥰 I've been having their songs on loop I swear to god

I LOVE MY BABY I personally think it's a crime that when you think about it Mira and Zoey are very underdeveloped in the plot 😞 but that's not relevant rn ANYWAY

Mira is someone who holds her cards REALLY close to her chest. She's had to grow up that way—being considered the problem child meant whatever she did was scrutinised to all hell and back, so as rebellious as she was, sometimes that didn't necessarily mean feeling 'free' to express herself either. And when she does, it's blunt, cutting, usually ending up with her parents telling her to hush or soften her words to something befitting of......well........someone Not Her

That carries on to how she is with romance, unfortunately. Dating her would be, for simplicity's sake, difficult, and even getting to that point in the first place is even more so. But I swear, trust me when I say that the effort will be so incredibly worth it

Mira would tend to analyse your words a LOT. The other HUNTR/X members are one thing, she's so extremely close with them now that she's comfortable to let her guard down. But with anyone else? Even you? Oh god she is a SCEPTIC through and through; she's the type to prefer actions over words, otherwise she'll take everything you say with more than a grain of salt

And like I said, Mira would also be extremely blunt. She doesn't hold back with her words, so if she's pissed off or disappointed, she WILL make it known. I think it'd be even more so when it comes to someone she has feelings for as well, not for the sake of maliciousness but it's her own way of letting you know how she genuinely feels in the moment without mixing shit up

I think if you genuinely show her that you respect her agency and how she is, if you give her the time and space she needs, she'll slowly but surely start to open up to you and allow herself to not get her guard up all the time

"Hey."

Mira's sharp tone caught your attention, but you've learned to easily take it in stride. Where staff would've cowed slightly at the feeling of being intimidated, you simply lifted your head up and met the idol's gaze head-on. "Mira," you nodded in acknowledgement, "need something? I thought you were rehearsing."

Mira shrugged as she approached, the penthouse windows reflecting her movements for you to see, "We were, but Bobby needed to talk to Rumi about something and Zoey went to finish her rapping verse for the new song."

You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped past your lips, "I'd have assumed she went to eat her heart out."

"That girl can multitask," the corner of Mira's lips lifted in barely-contained amusement when she leans on the arm of the sofa across you.

"And you?" You tilted your head slightly, "What are you doing now?"

"Taking a break, obviously."

"I thought there was no rest for a K-Pop idol."

"That is Rumi's thing, you're talking to the wrong idol."

"Right, right, my bad, Ms. 'I came to the Met Gala in a sleeping bag'."

Mira huffed in slight laughter at the memory, "If everyone's just going to abandon all sense of comprehensible fashion, what does it matter if I wore a sleeping bag? Realistically speaking, I was the only one there who felt comfortable."

"Fair enough," is all you offer.

And really, the silence should've bothered her. Usually it did. Without Rumi or Zoey to fill the silence, the lack of.. anything would usually make her feel like she's being internally scrutinised for any reason—the way she dressed, the way she spoke, the way she presented herself in general.

But with you? Mira felt none of that. With interacting, the responses flowed easily, and she didn't feel like she was wittingly stepping on landmines whenever she said anything. In silence, there was no pressure, there was no prickling feeling of scrutiny, it was just.. comfortable.

Not quite the same sort of comfortable she had with the other HUNTR/X members, of course, but.. something different.

Honestly she didn't know whether she wanted to lean into it or pull away.

So she tests the waters instead, "You're weird."

"Am I?"

"Yeah, you are. People would either freak out, use us for clout, or give Dispatch the time of their lives," she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, "but you've done none of that. You're just.. here. "

"..Am I not allowed to be here?"

"Not my point. I mean you don't push yourself onto the three of us," on her, though that goes completely unsaid in favour for the feeling of protectiveness for what her trio had. "What's your angle?"

Maybe the question should've offended, but.. all you did was shrug as you answered with complete sincerity, your voice not wavering even once, "None. Is it that hard to believe that I just genuinely enjoy your company?"

Mira blinked. "Yes."

(Some small part of her mind, clearly unimportant, wondered whether you meant to refer to HUNTR/X as a whole.. or just her.)

And you laughed, a low chime in the otherwise quiet penthouse living room, "Not much I can do there, unfortunately. Guess you'll just have to trust me."

Trust.

That never came easy for her, not now and certainly not back then.

And yet.

"..Guess I do."

Once you actually end up dating, it's ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ UGH I love her

Yk how she'd be blunt as hell? See that still stays. HOWEVER. When you're not in, say, a professional or a life-or-death situation, her voice takes on a certain care and softness that she doesn't even have with HUNTR/X. It's not wholly noticeable, but you can hear it in the way she's slightly less sharp when addressing you, you can see it in the way that her expression softens subtly when she talks about you (and Zoey and Rumi tease her to the moon and back, mostly Zoey LMFAO)

I don't think she'd use nicknames personally, feels too cheesy for her. Actually, saying things in general is too cheesy for her, not to mention again she much prefers showing than telling. So instead of nicknames, it's sudden gifts like the jacket she clocked you eyeing up but didn't buy or even just your favourite snack from the convenience store. Instead of waxing poetry about what she adores about you, she expresses it in gestures. An example would be if you did makeup, she'd watch you and if there's something specific that she's noticed about your features but YOU didn't, she might even guide you or do the makeup herself so that your makeup is properly done justice

She won't be clingy, but she'd be EXTREMELY protective of you. Friends (and especially HUNTR/X actually) are one thing, but Mira letting herself date someone in the first place? Shit man that means she considers you as someone she genuinely wants to stay with. She recognises very well that you have your own life, and she has hers, and she wouldn't want to suffocate in the way SHE doesn't want to be suffocated either. But at the same time, when you're out together, she'd step a little closer, guide you through crowds like a bodyguard instead of your girlfriend (lol), and in the case of demons ever coming near you? Oooooh MAN it's over for them—no one, and I mean NO ONE, is taking the person who makes her feel like she belongs and she's lovable

I feel the need to add that if you like dancing or you ARE a dancer/fellow choreographer, then it's bonus points to you. Mira's bluntness actually helps here, since she'll freely give you feedback on your movements AND even demonstate the dances/suggest alternatives. And because the two of you are together? Yes. Yes she'll come close and guide you with touch without hesitation 🥰🥰🥰. OH OH OH AND LET'S NOT FORGET COUPLE DANCES TOO!!!! PLEAAAASE it'd just be the two of you in the dance studio and you're doing the tango or even ballroom dancing (you can tease her about it and she'll say she's multifaceted)

I think there are moments where she'd retreat to herself, especially during the beginning of your relationship or after the first few times you fight. It's already a huge insecurity of hers, being aware that she can be easily UNapproachable due to how brutally honest she can be. The time with Rumi was one thing, but you're someone who she willingly gave and entrusted her entire heart to—what happens if that's.. gone? Please give her space before the two of you talk again, she's genuinely a reasonable person. Reassure her that you're willing to give her whatever she needs, and over time she grows more comfortable with the new form of vulnerability, and she'll withdraw less when she realises that yes! You're staying, and nothing she does will change that

Also? Nap times. Relaxations in the hot springs. GOD yes. Couple spa dates? Genuine bliss 🥰🥰🥰 And speaking of dates, she knows she's busy as HELL. But she tries her best to either carve out time for you or she actually has you involved with whatever it is she's busy with, surprisingly (like having you watch her choreo to see if there's anything that sticks out, watching her and the other girls go on reality shows, etc)

Overall? It's like having a cat for a girlfriend. One that genuinely treasures you when she finds herself wanting your presence to be a constant bc of how you make her feel ☹️

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

2025 General Election: “Special Story”

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. Spoilers ahead.

When I woke up that morning, the first thing I saw was Ranmaru's beautiful sleeping face.

My heart skipped a beat as I felt his arm wrapped around my back.

(Oh, right.)

(Last night, I ended up staying in Ranmaru's room.)

Even though we live in the same castle, we usually sleep in separate rooms.

That's exactly why mornings like this feel even more special.

(Still, I'm so nervous.)

(Just watching him sleep like this is enough to make my heart flutter.)

Even though Ranmaru and I were lovers now, our relationship was still fairly new.

Ranmaru: "Mmm. Lady Mai?"

Mai: "G-Good morning!"

Ranmaru: "You're already up? You can sleep in a little longer, you know?"

Ranmaru: "You were working late last night. Come on, close your eyes."

(Waah...)

He gently patted my back with practiced affection.

(Wait—what did he just say?)

(I wasn't working late last night. Is he still half-asleep?)

Confused, I looked up at him from within his arms—and our eyes met.

Then, suddenly, his eyes widened in surprise.

Ranmaru: "Am I dreaming? You look different somehow. Like you're not the you I know."

Ranmaru (Future): "I see. So you're the you from ten years ago."

As we talked and tried to make sense of it all, the shocking truth came out.

Though his appearance was exactly the same, it turned out he was Ranmaru from ten years in the future.

(Now that I think about it, yeah, he does feel a little different than usual.)

(And I kind of need to believe that, or my heart might explode.)

Like it was the most natural thing in the world, he sat me down in front of the vanity and began brushing my hair.

(He didn't even give me a chance to protest—he moved so naturally, like he's done this a thousand times before.)

(This must be something we do all the time in the future.)

His gentle, careful touch warmed me inside, though I couldn't help but blush at how intimate it felt.

Ranmaru (Future): "What's wrong? You look nervous."

Mai: "Um, what do I usually do? Do I just sit here quietly?"

Ranmaru (Future): "Hmm. You're mostly dozing off."

Ranmaru (Future): "You tend to sway sleepily, so it actually takes a bit of skill to get your hair right."

(Wait—am I really like that in the future!?)

Mai: "I'm definitely relying on you too much."

Mai: "I should probably start working on that so I can keep it together in the future."

I said it to him through the mirror, and Ranmaru chuckled softly.

Ranmaru (Future): "Hmm? You don't need to, you know."

Ranmaru (Future): "It just means you feel safest by my side now."

Ranmaru (Future): "So I want you to stay just the way you are."

(Ah…)

He gently ran his fingers through my hair, smiling sweetly.

Mai: "I must be really happy."

Ranmaru (Future): "Hm?"

Mai: "I just thought—my future self must be incredibly happy."

Mai: "To be treated so kindly and loved so openly by someone I love is amazing."

Mai: "Thank you, Ranmaru."

I thanked him on behalf of the drowsy version of me from the future—but for some reason, he sighed.

(Huh? Why did he sigh?)

Ranmaru (Future): "Geez. You're just as cute as you were ten years ago."

Mai: "----!"

Ranmaru (Future): "But the me in this timeline has only just started dating you."

Ranmaru (Future): "Even if it's still me, I probably can't go through with the usual 'finishing touches' just yet."

(Finishing touches? It's just my hair. What would he even need to hold back for?)

Confused, I turned around to look at him, and he gave me a playful wink.

Ranmaru (Future): "Curious about what the finishing touches are?"

Ranmaru (Future): "Well, let's just call that a little something to look forward to in the future."

Ranmaru (Future): "I think the 'me' from this time is about to wake up, so I'll leave the rest to him, okay?"

Mai: "Huh?"

The moment he said that, Ranmaru quietly closed his eyes.

When he opened them again—slowly this time—he puffed out his cheeks in slight annoyance.

Mai: "R-Ranmaru?"

Ranmaru: "That's right. I'm the version of myself who's dating you in the present."

Ranmaru: "And also the me who saw everything that happened between you and future me."

Mai: "Wait, seriously!?"

Before I could process it, Ranmaru wrapped his arms around me from behind, pulling me into a tight embrace.

Ranmaru: "I was supposed to be the one sharing a sweet morning with you—not him."

Ranmaru: "But since he left the final touches to me, I guess I'll let it slide just this once."

Mai: "You knew what he was going to do?"

Ranmaru: "Of course. I mean, he is me."

Ranmaru: "And when it comes to doing something for you—I know exactly what I'd do."

(Ah…)

He turned me around and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

The warmth of it faded quickly, replaced by a tender gaze that made my heart race.

Ranmaru: "I love you with all my heart."

Ranmaru: "I hope today gives you plenty of reasons to smile!"

(Ranmaru…)

Mai: "You know, I was wrong about what I said to future you."

Mai: "It's not just future me who's lucky—present me is just as happy, too."

Ranmaru: "Heh, of course you are. I wouldn't accept anything less."

Still laughing, he gave me another kiss—this one playful and affectionate.

The way he touched me, so much like the future Ranmaru, made me realize just how deep and lasting his love truly was.

[rwshfordgirl]

hiii! could u write something about a romantic date/dinner at the beach with xavi, please? love ur writing 💓

𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗣𝗨𝗕𝗟𝗜𝗖

all the images were taken from pinterest.

pairing: xavi simons x reader!

a/n: just a xavi simons whose love language is acts of service lol thank you dear, hope you like it!

Cayo Levantado, Dominican Republic 🇩🇴

The wind made your hair sway a lot which made you smile. In normal times, in the hustle and bustle of your hometown, the breeze that ruffled your hair would be enough to make you a little irritable.

But today is different, the cold wind comes from the beach surrounding the luxury resort on Cayo Levantado Island, in the Dominican Republic. The destination chosen by Xavi, which was supposed to be a surprise but he couldn't keep it for long.

He told you weeks after he booked everything.

Simons had gone to the bathroom and when he returned, his hand on your shoulder made you slightly startled as you were caught up in the nighttime landscape of the beach. Far from what was happening inside the restaurant.

Xavi chuckled at your reaction and buried his face in the crook of his neck, "did I scare you?"

You smiled, placing a kiss on the top of his head, which made him close his eyes instantly, "I was distracted, love."

Xavi lifted his head and pulled you so that you laid your head on his chest, his arm around you. The comfort of his arms, the view of Cayo Levantado, everything was incredibly perfect.

"It's cold." You buried your face in his chest, the breeze coming from the sea made your body shiver.

He hugged you tighter against his chest, "Want me to get your jacket from upstairs?"

He watched as you promptly shook your head and chuckled, “I don’t want you to leave,” your voice came out sly.

Xavi smiled at you and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

The waiter arrived with the seafood dishes you ordered. You thanked him at the same time and sat up straight in your chairs, but with your fingers intertwined underneath the table.

"It seems good," he said as he so the dishes in front of the two of you.

You smiled at him, “really, it looks really delicious."

Dinner was really delicious, it couldn't be otherwise. Xavi and I tried each other's dishes, like always.

"Want to go for a walk?"

He asked as you walked towards the exit of the restaurant, your hand wrapped around his arm like you were a koala in a tree.

You nodded readily, after a delicious dinner a walk along the sandy beach wasn't a bad idea, "sounds good."

He guided you there, all the care in the world as you passed through stairs and a kind of narrow alley. Without a sign that he would let go of your hand.

Before stepping onto the sand, you took off your sandals and Xavi motioned for you to hand it to him, "No need."

He shrugged and took the sandals from my hand. You rolled my eyes playfully, knowing that an argument with him over this would be unnecessary.

"I love you, princess. Let me do things for you."

You received a kiss on the forehead and a dramatic look from Xavi as if he was begging for something very necessary to live.

The height difference of a few centimeters made you stand on your tips and gave Xavi a quick peck on his soft lips, "Alright, pretty boy. Just today."

He grimaced at you warning that you would let him do it just now, but he knew that if it were up to him, it would happen every day.

"Pretty boy, I love you."

Xavi's soft lips touched yours again, he smiled into the kiss.

"I love you too, more than you can imagine."

[illbearound]

MOST WANTED MAN

Hiiii!! Here’s the second chapter for you!! 🤍 — a little glimpse of the past. Their first meeting.

I hope you enjoy it !! Once again, thank you so much for the kind words and love I’ve been receiving 🥹🧡

Chapter Two - The Gallery

BEFORE

Paris , September 2023

Anna slips quietly into the warm glow of the gallery, the light fabric of her dark-blue dress brushing softly against her skin. The space hums with low conversations, the occasional clink of glass, and the faint scent of dry champagne mingled with polished wood. Paintings hang with deliberate spacing, as if each needed its own quiet to breathe. The lighting is moody, minimal. Everyone here knows how to stand just far enough apart to seem interesting.

She lingers near the entrance a moment too long, eyes searching for a familiar face. Faces blur together, linen jackets, softly laughing voices, the glimmer of delicate jewelry catching the light. This isn't her world. She's here as moral support — colleagues of Julie's, friends-of-friends thing. Anna has the feeling that this evening is goint to feel like a delicate performance she didn't have time to rehearse.

Julie spots her quickly, halfway through a conversation with a girl Anna vaguely recognizes. Without breaking her smile, Julie waves her over. Anna moves toward her cautiously, a shy smile on her lips.

"Sorry." Anna says, slipping into the circle "My date with Margaux ran longer than expected."

She'd spent most of the afternoon in the university library, surrounded by stacks of books and essays for her thesis research that already felt too vast, too demanding. The weight of it settled on her shoulders, a quiet pressure she couldn't shake. Later, she met Margaux for coffee, a classmate she hadn't seen all summer, Their conversation slipped easily back into place, as if no time had passed at all. It was grounding, a small thread of familiarity in a week that felt crowded with new expectations and unsettled rhythms. The semester was just beginning again, and these small reunions carried something both comforting and strange. Old connections reframed by what was to come.

"It's fine. You're never late for these kind of things." Julie replies, pulling her into a quick hug and kissing her cheek. "I'm just glad you made it. You look beautiful, by the way," she adds , in that effortless way Julie always did.

Anna stays for a few minutes in their circle, standing politely in the orbit of Julie's charisma. The conversation twists around gallery gossip, an artist's mysterious "emotional collapse" and art exhibions she never heard before. Nonetheless, Anna nods, smiles when appropriate, listening to names she half-recognizes and stories she can't quite follow.

When the conversation drifts to someone's internship in Berlin, she touches Julie's arm lightly "I'm gonna do a loop, check out the actual art."

Julie nods mid-laugh "Go, go. I'll rescue you in twenty."

Anna gives a soft smile and slips away, not rushed, just gentle. The kind of exit no one would really question.

She moves slowly through the room, letting the din of voices blur behind her. The exhibit is beautiful, in a cold sort of way. Sparse paintings and sculpture pieces spaced intentionally around the room, each demanding quiet admiration. It's not that Anna doesn't care for art, she does, but tonight, the swirl of unknown faces and the weight of trying to seem interesting makes her feel like a misplaced comma.

A man in a suit kindly offers her a drink as he passes, asking what she'd prefer: water or champagne. She chooses sparkling water. She hates champagne.

She pauses by a painting near the far window. Swirls of blue and bone-white, like someone trying to paint grief with a soft brush. She doesn't understand much, but once Julie told her, "It's not about understanding . It's about how it makes you feel."

So she tries. She lets the quiet in. For the first time this evening, her shoulders relax.

It's only then, in that stillness, that someone bumps into her. Not hard, just a gentle bump against her shoulder.

"Ah, pardon!" His voice is soft, sincere, not rushed. "Je suis désolé."

Anna turns, ready to smile politely, a quiet way of saying it's okay, but her brain hesitates. She recognizes him. Not from any intimate knowledge, but because some faces, especially his, carry weight beyond headlines. You don't have to follow football to know his face. But in person, he looks softer somehow, less like a headline, more like a boy who just walked into the wrong conversation and is trying to be polite about it. It takes a second for her brain to register him outside of context.

He looks at her like he thinks he might know her. She knows that's impossible. Her hand tightens slightly around the stem of her glass.

He scans her again, the recognition failing to land. Then a faint smile curls his lips. "Good hiding spot," he says quietly, nodding around the room. "You get a view and silence."

It sounds more like an observation.

Anna lets out a breath, a quiet laugh escaping her "Exactly what I was going for."

"Too many people pretending to love art they don't understand?" he offers, a teasing lilt in his voice.

She tilts her head, amused "You're assuming I'm not one of them?"

"No���" he shakes his head quickly, still a bit nervous, a small smile tugging at his mouth. "No, that's not what I–" He stops, hands lifted in surrender.

Her smile softens. "It's okay. You're not wrong. I came with a friend. I don't speak fluent art-world, so I figured I'd admire from a safe distance." She hesitates, then adds, "Also heard there'd be free canapés. That sealed the deal."

He laughs, genuine and warm. "That's the only reason I go to things like this."

He leans slightly against the wall, keeping respectful distance. There's an ease about him now, like the kind of person who doesn't need to pretend.

Her gaze flicks up, smiling at him, "And you?" she asks, almost without thinking.

"Work, socializing." he says. "I don't really understand art, to be honest." he admits. "Don't know what half of it's supposed to be. The ones with the squares confuse me."

Anna smirks. "They're... conceptual."

"I think my five-year-old niece made one of these once. With glitter glue."

"Don't say that too loud. You might offend the entire gallery." She stifles a laugh.

He leans in slightly. "I think I already did. I almost accidentally knocked over one sculpture earlier. Caught it just in time."

She laughs, a real one, not the kind she gives out of politeness. They stand quietly, the noise of the party falling away. He watches her with an easy attentiveness that surprises her.

He hesitates for a second, then a shy smile tugs at his lips. "Water at a party? That's rare." Eyes twinkling. "Scared of hangovers? Or the designated driver?"

She shrugs, feeling a blush rise. "Neither, I'm just not a big fan of champagne.." Then, almost shyly, she admits, "And I don't actually drive. Too scared I'd hit something or someone. I think I'm just built for walking."

To her surprise, he nods knowingly. "I don't drive either. But I have a driver." he explains "Life of luxury, you know?"

Anna laughs, the sound light and genuine. "Lucky! I've got to stick with metro stations and Ubers. But, it's not that bad."

He nods. Doesn't press. Just stays in the space beside her like it means something.

The buzz of the party fading into the background. He looks at her for a moment. A flicker of something thoughtful passes across his face, but it fades into a smile. There's something easy about him. Something quiet beneath the surface.

"So what do you do, if not hiding at parties and catching Ubers?"

Anna shrugs lightly, the words coming easier now "Studying. Staying at home. Observing, occasionally. I'm a little boring."

He shakes his head "You seem pretty interesting to me so far. "

Her cheeks warm. She looks away.

Minutes slip by unnoticed, quietly folding into each other. The kind of time that feels stretched and delicate, like it might dissolve if you looked at it too closely. Anna's aware of the shift, how quickly her nerves have softened into something easier, something calm.

They stand together a little longer, and she's struck by the quietness of it all. How effortless it feels. No performance. No angles. Just a low, winding conversation in a room curated for appearances.

She doesn't know how long they've been talking — twenty minutes, maybe more — but it's long enough to notice and too long to be accidental. The kind of time that slips when something feels unexpectedly good. She doesn't try to name it. It's just this: the strange comfort of talking to a stranger. No pressure, no backstory, no expectation.

Just the magic of strangers. One night. One moment.

Across the room, Anna notices a blur of motion. Julie, with a glass of wine in one hand and a knowing smile playing on her lips. She's standing with two other girls, one of them clearly telling some over-animated story, but Julie's attention has found Anna. Her eyebrows arch. Her eyes dart to the man beside her, then back to Anna. And then: the smirk.

Anna knows that look. She's been spotted. Not just standing alone, but worse — smiling. Giggling, even. She instinctively straightens, but the moment is already sealed. Julie lifts an eyebrow from afar, her expression more amused than judgmental.

Julie raises her glass, a subtle cheers from afar, and gives a wink so quick it could've been imagined. Anna rolls her eyes and fights the little smile, looking away.

Back at the art, Kylian, she thinks, though they haven't exchanged names, stays present, making fun remarks about the weird paintings. He's funny, casually quick-witted, and fully there. Like he's not waiting for someone better to talk to. Like she hasn't just been a polite bump-in. The conversation slipped easily into one of those winding, meandering rhythms.

"I think," he says, examining the abstract piece in front of them, "this painting is either about heartbreak... or a blender explosion."

Anna laughs. "The best art does walk the line."

He turns to her again, clearly pleased with the response.

"Have you ever thought about making anything like that?"

She shakes her head. "God, no. I can barely draw a star without it turning into a spider."

He nods, thinking "Well, I can't even draw those intentionally." He snorts, and she does too.

But then comes the inevitable.

A voice calls out to him, one of the louder ones from the other side of the gallery. Sounds familiar, someone he knows, maybe his friends, teammates or family even. They wave him over, one lifting a brow like they already have a joke lined up. He looks over his shoulder, the spell momentarily broken. Anna instinctively steps back, giving him space without thinking.

"Looks like I've been found. " he says, flashing her a crooked smile.

"Duty calls." she says, playing it cool.

He gives her a brief, apologetic look "Yeah, I should meet them before they come here and embarrass me." He lets out a small laugh. She smiles.

"Yeah..." she gestures loosely, toward nowhere specific. "I should go find my friend too."

But neither of them moves, not at first. There's a strange comfort in the space they've created. Two strangers orbiting gently, neither rushing to close it.

He finally steps back, "It was really nice meeting you." he says. And it sounds like he means it.

"You too." she says, smiling. "Unexpectedly nice."

He smiles, dimples deep in his cheeks. He tilts his head a little, as if about to say more.

"Maybe one day we'll see your star-shaped spiders hanging in one of these." he teases softly.

"Oh gosh." she groans "If we're lucky, that day will never come."

Kylian laughs under his breath. Then he smiles once more before turning away, slipping easily into the crowd with a few friendly slaps on the back and a burst of laughter. He moves through people like he always belongs, but as he drifts away.

Julie finds her a few minutes later, looping an arm through hers, her voice low and curious. "So... who's your friend?"

Anna gives her a knowing look "I don't know what you're talking about."

Julie snorts. "You were giggling like I've never seen you giggle before."

"You're reaching. I was being friendly." Anna says, sipping her water to hide her grin.

"You were being charmed. There's a difference."

"He was just being polite."

Anna glances over her glass, pretending not to look for him again, but her eyes find him anyway. He's still deep in conversation, laughing with his friends, but she catches the way he scans the room again. His gaze skims past the paintings, the guests and finds her. He smiles, subtle and slow. Anna smiles too. Small. Barely there. The kind that doesn't ask for attention, just acknowledgment.

Her phone buzzes in her bag. She glances down, a calendar reminder. Early meeting with her dissertation tutor tomorrow morning.

She sighs, "I need to go." she tells Julie softly. "Got an early meeting." then says "See you at home?"

Julie nods, clearly holding back another round of teasing, but not for long. "Not saying goodbye to your friend?"

Anna rolls her eyes. And then smiles, just a little. She hesitates. Her gaze flicks back toward the corner where he stands. Surrounded. Engaged. A little out of reach. Should she? It feels like too much to walk across the room just for goodbye.

So she doesn't.

Instead, she waits for the right moment. And when he turns his head again, she lifts a hand in a soft wave from across the gallery. His smile changes, still warm, but tinged with something like disappointment. Like he hadn't quite wanted the night to end. He raises his hand too. No words. Just a shared, quiet exit.

Anna slips on her coat at the entrance again, heart still beating somewhere behind her ribs like it isn't sure how to behave. The city air outside is sharp, a touch too cool for the first days September but her face is still flushed from something warmer.

As she steps into the night, she thinks about her evening and then him.  She doesn't know if she'll ever see him again. It was just a nice moment with a charming stranger.

Deep down, she hopes to.

———

tags: @nowrosesaredead