#I can’t even have a moment to calm down

[akimiiyo]

-> JEALOUSY

⌗synopsis : genshin men when they’re jealous.

⌗characters : diluc, kaeya, albedo, zhongli, childe, baizhu, xiao, thoma, ayato, heizou, wanderer, kazuha, tighnari, cyno, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvillette, lyney, dainsleif, dottore, pantalone, capitano, pierro.

⌗cw : gn!reader, not proofread, lowercase intended, probably ooc.

he’s a gentleman, he doesn’t get jealous often because he knows for a fact that he has nothing to worry about. you’ve never done anything that made him feel as if he had to watch out and he’s certain that you never will. although he can still get annoyed at the sight of another man flirting with you. it was his insisting even after you turned him downed that angered him the most. nonetheless, he doesn’t let such people interfere with his composure. he’ll act mature and take you somewhere else once he sees that the man has no intentions of leaving you alone. as soon as you both get a moment alone together, however, he won’t hesitate to plant a few more kisses than usual. just in case, y’know?

diluc, zhongli, alhaitham, neuvillette, dainsleif, capitano.

he won’t admit it, but he gets jealous often. he doesn’t want to confront you about it because he believes it’s embarrassing and silly to feel that way. i mean, you’re his and he’s yours. you love him so much, there’s no need to worry, right? yet, he still can’t help but fume at the sight of strangers complimenting you. he can’t blame them, but he still would rather for people to be blind if that meant that they’d leave you alone. he’s aware of how unfair that would be, so he just stays quiet, either sulking or glaring at those people as you offer them a kind smile until you’re both alone where he’ll be needing your utmost attention.

xiao, albedo, thoma, kazuha, kaveh, baizhu.

he’s jealous and he’ll show it. hit on his partner? right in front of him? absolutely not. he might try to keep his calm at first, but as time passes and this scumbag is still around, he won’t hold back. not to worry, he won’t do anything extreme (unless he’s forced to do so), he just wants to make things clear to this guy. he’ll keep it simple at first, simply making subtle comments until he actually starts going straight to the point. after a while, he’ll take your arm and walk away with you, now being angrier than before. the way that guy was talking to him, but especially you, has him furious. be prepared to listen to his angry rant about that random dude. be also prepared to shut him up, you know how.

kaeya, childe, heizou, tighnari, cyno, wanderer, lyney.

this guy almost sees you as his property, his jealousy is unmatched. he won’t take anything lightly. if you’re trying to make advantages on his partner, then you’re asking for it. simple as that! he won’t let anyone think they might have a chance with you because you’re destined to be with him and only him. so obviously, he must make it clear to everybody to not even try. if someone is bold enough though, he’ll just stand beside you, piercing through this man’s soul with his icy gaze. thankfully, nothing ever escalated from that. not that he wouldn’t be capable of doing that, these poor sould simply knew better than to get against someone of that status and reputation.

ayato, dottore, pantalone, pierro.

⌗a/n : im not really proud of this, i might edit it once i have time. it’s 4am and i was supposed to be studying, but i ended up writing this instead. talk about procrastination 😪 let me know if i made any mistakes pls

©2024 akimiiyo. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #baizhu x reader #xiao x reader #thoma x reader #heizou x reader #kaeya x reader #ayato x reader #wanderer x reader #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #neuvillette x reader #lyney x reader #dainsleif x reader #pierro x reader #capitano x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader

[girlgenius1111]

unhappy reunions

sol runs into her parents after the copa de la reina final no warnings.

--------

“Solstråle?” 

You froze. You knew that voice, knew it well. Your mother normally didn’t call you by the nickname Ingrid had given you, and that almost surprised you more than her surprise appearance.The noisy cafe still existed around you, but when you turned around, that was all forgotten. 

“Mamma?” You whispered, instinctually taking a step backwards from the woman in front of you. 

It made sense; you should have known better than to expect your parents to miss one of perfect, perfect Ingrid’s important games. 

“Hei, kjære.” Your dad said gently. He had his hand on your mom’s elbow, holding her back from taking a step closer. It wasn’t as jarring to see him, but your body had been plunged into panic the moment you’d seen your mothers’ face. 

“I-.... I can’t,” you mumbled, backing up until your back hit the door. The last thing you saw before you turned to leave was a heartbroken expression on your mom’s face. As if she was upset you wouldn’t talk to her. You were confused, overwhelmed, and so, so upset. 

You booked it back to the hotel. As fast as you could, walking as quickly as would be socially acceptable. You’d forgotten the coffee you’d ordered, which you only realized as you got in the elevator at the hotel. You were kind of torn on whether to head to your room, or to Ingrid and Mapi’s. They’d probably still be asleep; the celebrations had gone late the night before, and you wanted them to rest, to really soak in the victory. 

But honestly, you weren’t sure you’d be able to calm yourself down, and you knew your sister could. You made a decision that you wouldn’t have a few months ago, maybe even a few weeks ago, stopping in front of your sister’s door rather than your own. You chose company over self pity, and comfort over punishing yourself. And it felt wrong. 

Mapi answered the door. “Good morning Sol!” She said cheerily, stepping aside to let you in the room. The bathroom door was closed and you could hear the shower running, which explained where your sister was. 

“Hi.” You said, your voice much shakier and quieter than normal. 

“You okay?” Mapi asked, shutting the door and giving you a concerned look. 

“Yeah.” The lie was instinctual. “No, actually. No. I… I went to get coffee.” 

Mapi looked at your empty hands, raising an eyebrow in question. 

“I saw my mom. She- both of them. My mom and my dad, they were in the coffee shop I went to. And I saw them.” You looked away from Mapi as you spoke, staring down at your hands. They were trembling. 

“Sol,” Mapi sighed and reached out for your hand, though you stepped backwards, shaking your head at her. 

“Please don’t touch me.” You whispered, pressing the heels of your palms tightly against your eyes. You felt so unsettled, so uncomfortable. Suddenly, Zaragoza didn’t feel safe, you didn’t feel safe. You wanted to go home, or maybe you just wanted to hide yourself somewhere quiet and far, far away from anyone else. 

Mapi stood for a minute, not sure what to do. You’d never refused a hug from her before and though she realized that you coming to their room as opposed to hiding away in your own room was a step forward, everything about your body language was screaming that you were miles away, back in Norway. Norway, where you didn’t feel loved or noticed. Where you shied away from hugs because you weren’t used to getting them. Mapi heard the shower turn off and wasn’t sure whether or not to be glad. Ingrid might be overwhelming for you, as it seemed like you were already overwhelmed, but Ingrid could sometimes get through to you in a way that only she could. 

“Okay, Sol. Everything is fine, cariño.” She tried to soothe. 

“No! No, everything isn’t fine. They aren’t supposed to be here, I don’t want to see her. Are they here to take me back? I don’t want to go back. I want to go home, to Barcelona. I want to go home Mapi, please.”

“You aren’t going back and you don't have to see anyone, nena.” Mapi promised, stepping closer with her hands raised slightly in the air. “Tell me what to do, tell me how I can help.” 

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” All you could do was shake your head back and forth, trying to keep yourself in the present. 

“Okay, Sol, just breathe. Just breathe for me.” Mapi soothed, taking a slight step forwards. It didn’t seem like you were hearing her. It didn’t even seem like you were in the room with her. 

“Mom, please please don’t send me away. I want to stay here with you. Please mom, please.” You sobbed. Your head hurt from crying, from going back and forth in circles with your mother. 

“You are going, and that is final.” Your mother said firmly. She didn’t really seem to see your tears, or how upset you were.  

You looked towards your dad, who couldn’t meet your eyes. “Dad, please. I don’t want to go. I’ll be better, I promise, just please,” 

Your father opened his mouth, as if to reply, but your mother beat him to it. “Enough. We are not changing our minds.”

You wiped a few tears away. “How can you do this to me?”

“Do this to you?” She repeated incredulously. “I’m always the bad guy with you. No matter how much I do, nothing is ever enough. You are ungrateful. You are only capable of thinking of yourself. This is not the kind of person I raised you to be. You say that you are anxious and depressed. I think you’re lying, and I am sick and tired of your excuses for this poor behavior. It is a miracle your sister is even willing to take you in. I am sure she has no idea what she’s getting herself into. You will go to Spain, and you will learn what it's like to not have someone do everything for you. And until you learn that, do not bother coming back here. I do not want to see your face again until you have cleaned up your act.” 

The room fell silent as your mother took a step back, a flicker of emotion flashing across her face. Your dad still wouldn’t look at you. If he had, he would have seen that the tears had stopped. You stood, looking like you’d been struck. In that moment, you hated yourself as much as your mother seemed to. Even if you didn’t understand why she felt that way. You were pretty sure it was warranted. 

“I am sorry for yelling. I just get so frustrated with you sometimes, and I don’t know what else to do.” She stepped closer, stopping when you took a step back. “We are doing this because we care about you.” 

It was always because they cared about you. Never because they loved you. Your mother had stopped saying love a long time ago, around the time you’d started acting out. You wondered if you’d ever hear it again. From anyone. 

“Sol, I need you to breathe.” Mapi said, bringing you out of your thoughts. You raised your head to look at her, and she almost cried herself at the downright haunted look on your face. The next second, you were practically lunging towards her, a broken sob falling from your lips. 

“I want Ingrid.” You choked out, pressing your face into Mapi’s shoulder. She nodded quickly, arms holding you securely to her, even as you trembled violently. 

“Ingrid,” Mapi called.

“One second.” Ingrid replied, not hearing the urgency in her girlfriend’s tone. 

When Ingrid walked out of the bathroom, clean and dressed in the clothes she was intending on wearing to the airport, she stopped in her tracks. Mapi was holding you close against her, shushing you quietly, and you were sobbing. 

“María? Solstråle? What-?” 

Mapi just shook her head, waving Ingrid to come closer. Your sister crossed the room quickly, filled with confusion and worry as she saw the state you were in. When you didn’t seem like you were going to explain anytime soon, Ingrid looked again to Mapi. 

“She saw your parents. They’re here, in Zaragoza, she saw them in a coffee shop.” 

Ingrid felt fury rise in her, but she pushed it aside, softly stroking over your hair with her hand. “Sol, I’m so sorry.” 

Once you felt your sister’s hand on your head, you turned around, falling into Ingrid. You squeezed her tighter than you ever had before, the only thought in your head that you did not want to go back. 

“Ingrid, don’t let them take me.” You sobbed. 

“Elskling, I am not letting anyone take you anywhere . You are staying with me, okay? I promise you.”  

Ingrid had seen you upset before. Really upset. Nothing came close to this, though. It felt like just when she thought she understood how much damage your parents had done on you, something else would happen that told her it was far worse than she'd been thinking. 

And at the worst possible moment, the door flew open and Patri and Pina’s loud voices filled the room, before they fell completely silent. They froze in the doorway, realizing that they had walked in on a full breakdown from you. They’d heard from Ingrid and Mapi that you’d been struggling. Until now, it had been hard to fit that information into the image they had of you. Smiley quiet Sol. 

Neither of them knew what had happened to get you to this point, cradled against your sister, sobbing so hard they weren’t even sure you knew they were there. 

“Out.” Mapi said harshly, moving to block your trembling form. She’d never snapped like this to her teammates, and though they had already been on their way out of the room, they moved faster.

“Sorry, Mapi.” Patri said quietly, yanking Pina out of the room quickly and shutting the door behind them. 

“What-?” Pina began. 

“I don’t know. Whoever hurt her enough to be like that… I don’t understand. She’s such a good kid.” 

“If Mapi ever goes to jail for murder, we’ll know who she went after.” 

Patri nodded her agreement. 

Back inside the room, you had stopped crying, save for the occasional sniffle. Ingrid almost preferred the crying to the completely blank look that had washed over your face. 

“Sol,”

“Pina and Patri?”

“They won’t say anything to anyone, and they won’t make fun of you, Sol. Not for this.” Mapi promised. 

“Okay. Good. I need to pack.” You said stiffly, stepping away from the comfort of your sister, and turning to walk out of the room. 

“No, Sol. No. Stop for a second. We cannot pretend that didn't just happen.” Mapi cut in. A flicker of surprise flashed across your face, as Mapi was normally the one to encourage Ingrid to let you take things at your own pace. 

You looked between her and your sister, wondering how you could explain it in a way that made sense to them. “ I can’t think about this any more before we go home. I just need to go home. Please.” 

For once, Mapi looked conflicted while your sister nodded instantly. She understood. You hated unfamiliar places. You were introverted that way, while Mapi was very much the opposite. There was never a feeling of complete safety when you and Ingrid were away from home, and she understood why you didn’t want to deal with this now, here. Not when you were only a few hours from being home. 

“Okay. I get that. I am not leaving you alone right now, though. We still have a few hours until we have to go, so take Mapi with you to finish packing, and then go find me coffee.” 

You nodded weakly, moving only once Mapi had given you a kind smile and began to lead you out of the room. 

Ingrid waited until the door had shut behind you both before she grabbed her phone from her pocket, and clicked on a contact she hadn’t even looked at in a while. 

-------

She was doing the right thing. That’s what Ingrid told herself. It had nothing to do with the desperate wish to see her parents, even if she was so furious with them she couldn’t put it into words. She missed her mom, and she had for a while. Ingrid was doing this for you, though; she was putting you first. 

When she entered the bar in the lobby of the hotel, she saw her parents instantly. They were sitting at a small table in the corner of the bright room, conversing quietly. Her father kept shaking his head, and her mother seemed to be insisting on something. 

Making her way over to the table, Ingrid schooled her features and took a deep breath. 

“Hi.” She said neutrally, taking the open seat at the table without really looking at either of her parents. 

“Ingrid.” Her mom said happily. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

Your sister dug her nails into her palm. Think of Sol. Think of what they have done.

“I’m not here to chat. I am here to tell you to stay away from Sol. She isn’t ready to see either of you right now. I didn’t realize I had to be specific in my request for you both to not come to the final, but you’ve crossed the line here. You had no idea how upset Sol is.”  

“Ingrid, we didn’t mean to run into her. We just came to see you play. It was completely coincidental, our flight back home leaves this evening.” Her dad explained. 

“You told us what Sol needed, and we want to respect that. But we have really missed you, and you’ve had such an incredible season. We just wanted to see you play.” Her mom chimed in. 

“And what about Sol? Have you missed her?” Ingrid asked bitingly. 

“Of course we have. I know we… I messed up. I made a lot of mistakes. I wasn’t well, Ingrid, but I’m doing better now and I want-”

“Sol is not going back to Norway.” Ingrid snapped. 

Her mother nodded instantly. “I know. I want your sister to be happy, and it seems like she is. The best place for her is with you, I understand that. I don’t get to be upset that she doesn’t want to come home, not when I’m the reason she had to leave in the first place. I want to apologize to her, Ingrid. Not today, but maybe we can come to Barcelona? And we can talk to her.” 

The suspicion on Ingrid’s face said enough. Her mother knew then that what she had broken was not fixable. Her relationship with you may not even be salvageable, and her one with Ingrid was broken. Potentially beyond repair. 

“I don’t know. I’ll talk to her when we’re home to see if she wants to do that.” 

“Okay. Whatever you think is best, Ingrid.” 

The table fell into silence before your father spoke, his voice oddly choked up. “How is she?” 

Your sister’s eyes flickered to your fathers before she answered, trying to gauge his sincerity. “She’s okay. She’s doing better. It’s not perfect, but she’s happier. We got her a dog, and she’s making friends. Her and Mapi are… crazy together, but it’s fun. She’s going to be okay, I think.”

Your father gave Ingrid a watery smile, blinking hard. 

“Ingrid, I want to say I’m sorry to you, too.” Your mother said after a minute.

 Ingrid glared at her. “For what? I am happy to have Sol here, I love her. She isn’t a burden to me.”

Her mother flinched, wiping a tear off her cheek. “That’s not what I meant. I… she’s doing better, and that is because of you. Because you are doing an incredible job with her. I am sorry because what I have done has understandably pushed you away from me. And it isn’t fair for Sol not to have had an attentive mother, but it isn’t fair for you either, to lose me too. It’s my fault, and I’m sorry. I miss you, kjære. I love and  miss you both, but I understand.” 

Ingrid stared out the window for a moment, willing herself not to start sobbing. “Thank you for apologizing.” She said finally. “I miss you too, but that doesn’t change anything. Sol needs me, and she is my priority. She hasn’t been yours in a long time, but she is mine and I will do whatever she needs me to do. Even if that means not seeing you both.” 

Both your parents nodded solemnly. “We understand, Ingrid. Really, we do.”

Ingrid nodded, biting her lip hard to keep from crying. God, she wished Mapi was here right now. 

“Okay. You should get back to your sister. We’re so proud of you, Ingrid. We’ll be cheering you on in the champions league final, and if Sol decides to hear me out, you know how to reach me. I love you, darling.” Her mother said, standing and pressing a kiss to Ingrid’s head, before she walked away from the table. She, too, was trying to keep it together, for her daughter’s sake. 

Your father rose and gently patted her cheek. “I love you, kiddo. Fly safe.” 

“I love you too.” She whispered, but both her parents were too far away by now to hear her.

She couldn’t stop the tears from dripping down her face as she headed for the elevator. She wiped furiously at them, but they fell all the same. 

The elevator opened up in front of her, and she was met with a very concerned Frido. 

“Hey. Mapi told me you were meeting your parents, and I… oh, Ingrid.” Frido sighed. At the sight of Frido, Ingrid had stopped trying to fight it, stepping in closer and letting out a heart wrenching sob. Frido tugged Ingrid back into the elevator with her, carefully wrapping her best friend in a tight hug. 

“I know, I know. It really sucks.” Frido whispered, clicking the button for your sister’s floor. “You’re doing the right thing for your sister, though, and I’m really proud of you, Ing.” 

Your sister wished she could find it within herself to feel proud, but the only feeling she had was that she really just wanted a hug from her mom. And more than that, she wanted to go back in time and erase all the hurt from your life. She wished things could just be fixed but she knew they couldn’t be, not quickly, maybe not at all. And that was something she was going to have to live with.

-------

You seemed weighed down with despair when Ingrid arrived back in her room. And distracted, finishing the final touches of packing Mapi’s suitcase. Mapi hated packing, and you loved it, so there was no confusion on Ingrid’s part as to why this was occurring. What was a bit alarming for her, though, was that you didn’t even seem to notice the tear tracks on Ingrid’s face, even though you looked right at her. You were an observant person, and not noticing how upset your sister was spoke volumes towards how poorly you were handling this. 

Mapi didn’t miss it, though. Of course not. She glanced up, seeing her girlfriend’s face, her brow instantly furrowing in concern. Ingrid refused to meet her eyes, terrified that she’d start crying again, but this time in front of you. 

“Hey, Sol? Can you go up to Frido’s room and see if I left my book there?” Mapi asked. 

You nodded absentmindedly, walking right past your sister and out the door. 

“Come here, princesa,” Mapi sighed, allowing Ingrid to fall into her arms and bury her face in Mapi’s t-shirt. She just held the Norwegian for a few minutes, every so often pressing a kiss to the side of Ingrid’s head. Mapi made sure to thread her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair, as she always did when it was down, scratching gently at her scalp. Ingrid tried to focus on the smell of Mapi overwhelming her, instead of any of the one million emotions she was feeling. “Did it not go well?’

“No, it went okay. Good, actually. They’re both completely aware that this is their fault, and they aren’t going to try to make Sol go back to Norway. It was just hard. I miss them, and I know I shouldn’t-”

“Hey, no. There is no should or shouldn’t when it comes to how you feel, mi amor. You can miss them and be angry at them all at the same time. And missing them doesn’t mean you love your sister any less. Okay?”

“Okay.” Ingrid nodded, trying to muster a smile for her girlfriend. “Thanks for sending Frido down, I was kind of a mess.” 

Mapi just flashed a smile at the Norwegian, gently kissing her cheek. “I love you.” She said softly. 

Ingrid wilted slightly, overcome, as she usually was, at how ridiculously perfect her beautiful girlfriend was. “I love you too, María.” 

-------

Ingrid and Mapi had left you alone in the airport for five minutes, going in search of coffee before Ingrid went on a killing spree of some kind. And it was in that short period of time that Patri and Pina very suddenly appeared on either side of you, flopping into the open seats next to you. 

You regarded them warily, trying to figure out if they were going to say something about it or not. 

“If we have to kill someone for you, we will.” Claudia said matter of factly. “More importantly, though, Mapi is going to fall asleep on that plane. And you are going to write something on her forehead.” 

“Am I?” You asked, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. 

“You are. I am thinking something along the lines of… I love my girlfriend?” Patri suggested. 

“Single and ready to mingle.” Pina countered. 

“Heterosexual.” 

“World’s biggest simp.” 

“Loser.” 

“Little bitch.”

All three of you were giggling at this point, attracting the attention of a few of your sister’s teammates sitting nearby. Among them, Esmee. She was a quiet girl, incredibly kind and also fond of your sister. Esmee was shy, and as such, the words that came out of her mouth were completely unexpected. 

“#1 Real Madrid Fan.” She suggested, a small smirk on her face. 

You fell off your seat, tears forming in your eyes as you pictured both Mapi’s reaction to that being written on her forehead, and at Esmee being the one who had come up with it. 

You didn’t notice Ingrid and Mapi watching on from a few feet away, having stopped in their tracks at the sound of your laughter. 

“I didn’t think I’d see her smile for a few days at least.” Ingrid murmured. 

“Me either. Thank god for the two biggest imbeciles on the planet.” Mapi said with a roll of her eyes. 

“No, not imbeciles. They saw she was upset earlier, and they knew what they were doing just now.” Ingrid said softly, exchanging a look with Patri. The young captain sent Ingrid a huge grin and a sly thumbs up. 

Mapi got a slightly mushy look on her face. “My favorite imbeciles.” She decided. 

Ingrid laughed, shaking her head. She knew very well that Pina and Patri would be right back to being Mapi’s least favorite imbeciles. Just as soon as Ingrid helped them draw on her girlfriend’s face. 

--------

“I don’t even like penises.” Mapi grumbled, dragging her bag through the door. “Stupid thing to draw.” 

You and Ingrid choked back laughter. “No one gets a penis drawn on them because they LIKE penises Mapi.” 

“You are on my list Engen.” Mapi sneered, her face cheering up greatly as Bagheera ran to greet her. 

“Hey, just be glad Alexia stopped them from putting it on your forehead.” You giggled. 

Ingrid turned to you, wide eyed, while Mapi whipped around, her jaw dropping. “Ingrid said SHE stopped them from doing that!” 

You dodged the wack Ingrid tried to land on your arm, laughing even harder. “Nah, Ingrid was pro penis on the forehead. Alexia was too, until she realized there’d be cameras when we got off the plane, and she changed her mind.” 

The Spaniard frowned down at the large drawing on her forearm, before her glare turned to you. “Oh, just wait, Engen. You’ll regret this.” 

A scandalized look appeared on your face. “Me?! It was Pina and Patri.” 

“They will pay too, pequeña, don’t worry. You’ll all pay.” 

You rolled your eyes at the Spaniard’s dramatics, but your amusement completely disappeared when Ingrid rested a hand on your shoulder and turned you towards her. 

“Can we talk for a sec, Sol?” 

Worry clouded your face as you nodded, allowing Ingrid to lead you into the living room. She wanted to be honest with you, tell you what had happened as soon as she could. You both were home now, and she knew you’d be upset if she kept her conversation with her parents from you for any longer. 

Taking a seat on the couch next to Ingrid, you turned expectantly to Mapi. Ingrid never had an important conversation with you without her girlfriend there as a buffer. 

“I am going to get the dog.” Mapi said, giving you a reassuring smile before she headed back out the door with Scout’s leash in hand. 

“Ingrid, I didn’t really want to talk about-”

“I talked to mom and dad.” Ingrid interrupted, wincing slightly at the panic and hurt that flashed across your face. 

“Oh.” You mumbled. 

“I just wanted to tell them to leave you alone, sweetheart. We didn’t talk for very long. They just said that they want you to be happy. Mom was really… apologetic. And she said that she wanted to talk to you. I told her that it was up to you, whether or not you wanted to talk to her.”

“Oh.” You repeated. Ingrid couldn’t get a read on how you were feeling. Overwhelmingly, it seemed to her like you were anxious, so she reached out and took your hand. “Mom wants me to go back to Norway?”

“No, Sol. She wants you to be happy. And you’re happier here than you ever were in Norway. I think she just wants to talk. To apologize.” 

“Oh. Okay.” You paused, trying to slow your pounding heart. You didn’t have to go back. “Do you- do you want me to talk to her?” You asked insecurely, eyeing your sister with apprehension. 

Ingrid shook her head again, running a hand through her hair. “Solstråle, I want you to do what you want to do. I want you to decide what will be best for you. Don’t think about me, Sol. Think about you.” 

She spoke so earnestly, you had a hard time figuring out which thing she really did want. But the more you thought about it, the clearer it became. 

Ingrid had always been close with your parents. The last few months must have been really hard for her, barely speaking to them at all. Ingrid probably wanted you to make up with them, so that she could do the same. Even if you didn’t go back to Norway. You could put your family back together again. That was what Ingrid wanted. 

You opened your mouth to tell her you’d talk to your mom, before you slammed it shut again. 

Ingrid had also said she wanted you to choose what was best for you. And if you were sure about anything, it was that you weren’t ready to talk to your mom, not yet. It didn't come naturally to you, putting yourself first and making a decision that would be best for you, and not for the people around you. BUt you felt you owed it to your sister to be honest. To do what she was asking. Ingrid had done so much for you the last few months. She just wanted you to be happy. And you wanted to be happy, too. More than anything. 

“I… I’m not ready yet. I don’t want to talk to her. Maybe in a few months, but not… not now.” You said quietly. You didn’t seem confident in your decision at all, but Ingrid understood what that insecurity was really about. 

“Okay, Sol. Whatever you want sweetheart. Whatever makes you happiest.” 

You looked up at her, tears welling in your eyes. “Really?” 

Ingrid exhaled sharply, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Really.” 

You nodded your head, before leaning in towards Ingrid. She hugged you tight. 

“I’m really proud of you, Sol. Really proud.” 

You squeezed her tighter. You were proud of you, too.

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[usedpidemo]

Too many nights ((G)I-dle Yuqi)

The way you see it, even if the signs were right in front of you all along—written in bright, colorful signposts with the largest text imaginable—you’d still be hurling yourself off that cliff. 

Yuqi knows this too—you think she does.

At the very least, she looks convincing enough that she feigns innocence on the matter, and she is. It's mainly a you problem. She doesn’t know you much other than being the sweet, quiet guy who was her roommate in college and nothing else.

And that’s probably the reason why she’s standing in front of your newly minted apartment on a random Monday.

—————

You’re waiting for her to pick her bags off the floor and leave. You told her to leave three times. Threaten to call security on her. She doesn’t budge. Instead, she stares. Stubborn, obstinate, unyielding.

“Please, give me one opportunity. Please let me explain myself.” Yuqi finally breaks her silence, eyes wide, glinting with tears, pleading.

“Shoot.”

She looks down, unable to see you eye to eye, her hands running through the pockets of her skirt. “You’re right. I’ve taken your kindness for granted, and I’m sorry. I really am.” 

Pausing, you’ve never heard her sound this quiet, this personal. “I never truly appreciated you till I was home with my parents. I should have focused more on studying than going out and having fun. Now look. They’re pissed that I’m being a bum at home instead of working, so they kicked me out.”

She proves your theory to be true. She has no reason to be here unless you bail her out of trouble again.

“But I can’t find one job that I like. Working a 9-5 or any regular cashier job seems so boring, you know what I mean? Doesn’t feel like my type of thing to do,” she continues, lightly kicking the suitcases with her feet. “My friends are all busy, so I had no one to lean on. Then I remembered you! So here I am.”

At least it was nice seeing Yuqi act mature for at least three minutes before reverting to her usual spry, childlike personality. 

“Okay? Well that’s on you for being lazy, and I can’t help with that. Sorry to hear you got kicked out, but I have nothing to offer you. It was great seeing you, though. Good luck with that job.” 

You try closing the door, but she stops it with her foot. Peeking through the narrow space, you find Yuqi persistent, unrelenting. “Wait. Hear me out for a second, I said I didn’t wanna be your roommate.”

“No, Yuqi. Just go—”

“I really need you right now. I’ve already applied to like five different companies on public wifi, it’s so fucking slow and I doubt they even got my email. I just need a place to stay for like a month. Trust me, I’ll get a job and when I get paid, I’ll spend it on finding my own apartment! Just give me this one time.”

You swear you’ve never heard Yuqi this desperate, this loud. Your neighbors are probably ringing up security right now, maybe the owner too.

“Okay, okay. Just calm down for a minute, will you? Our neighbors are listening.” You open the door lightly and Yuqi’s eyes light up. You didn’t even say yes, but it might as well be a confirmation to her.

“You promise? You’re actually working on a job application?” you ask, doubtful about her claim.

“Of course.” Yuqi shows her phone, presents pdf files of multiple application letters to the very places she doesn’t want to work. Some fastfood chains, at convenience stores, and mall outlets. “None of them have replied back, so—I’m still trying to apply to more places, but I’m almost out of data on my plan and I don’t wanna spend another night inside my car. Just give me this one thing? Okay?”

Seeing the evidence firsthand, you can’t help but be impressed. If you had any spine, you’d contemplate the proposal more, give it some time to mellow out, maybe let her elaborate some terms of agreement. But in a moment of weakness, you yield right away. What’s one month of Yuqi gonna do to you?

“All right, fine. I’ll let you stay—”

“I owe you one, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Yuqi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when she brings her suitcases into your apartment at record speed. She gives you a peck on the cheek in appreciation twice, one for each pair of suitcases she shuffles in.

You can only sigh in response before closing the door.

—————

Before Yuqi gets comfortable in her new place, you sit her down on the living room couch to discuss house rules. This isn’t like college, where you share a dorm together, split the bill and have personal spaces. While you don’t own the apartment, you make one thing very clear: she’s bound to you and whatever rules you impose on her.

“Let’s make one thing and one thing clear: you break any of my rules, you’re outta here. I don’t care if you explain yourself, you’re gone. Understood?”

“Right.” Yuqi’s trembling with excitement and impatience, nodding erratically, kicking her legs up, goading you into rushing through everything so she can lay on an actual bed. 

You take a moment to analyze her suitcases in the middle of the room. Facing her, you ask cautiously, “Tell me you didn’t bring your—”

“Yep!” She responds almost immediately, thrilled to answer your question, as if it were muscle memory. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”

And there goes your supposed rule one. Of course she brought her entire dorm room decor along. Knowing her, they’re likely encompassing two of her suitcases.

“Yeah, no. My landlord is quite strict about decor, so you can’t put them up,” you tell her bluntly; there’s no getting around his rule, even if your roles were swapped.

She frowns, visibly devastated, probably more hurt than being kicked out by her family. It’s the end of the world, but she won’t give in. If there’s even a slight possibility she can have her way, she will force herself through. “Please? Even just my room—”

“Not a chance. It’s just a general rule here, sorry.” You make sure to shut her down immediately. “I didn’t make that rule, anyway. Blame the owner.”

Yuqi acquiesces. She groans with displeasure, crossing her arms, acting bratty. No act can convince you to change your mind.

“Right. Now actual ground rules. This isn’t a dorm so you can’t just freeload as much as you want. Now I understand you're still working on that job application, so all I’m asking is just for you not to be completely messy, got it? So don’t eat my leftovers without asking, don’t go out to clubs and ask me to drive you home when you’re drunk, none of that. If you’re drunk, sleep outside the room. I don’t want to clean up vomit on the carpets.”

Surprisingly, Yuqi agrees without complaint. You’re unsure whether she’s nodding so she can settle in, or if she actually understood every single word.

“I seriously hope you’re working on that job—”

“Don’t worry! Just give me the wifi password and I’ll be set.” Yuqi can’t help but interrupt you every single time, and to her credit, it’s effective. She does seem dead set on taking this opportunity to redeem herself, and it’s a convincing act. As insufferable as she can be at times, you want to see her succeed. You want to see her win.

You jot down the wifi password on an extremely thin sheet of paper and place it on the table before her. Before walking away, you ask her, “You need me to help with your belongings? I’ll get the guest room ready while you make yourself comfort—”

“Nah, it’s fine!” Yuqi’s typing on her phone, not even shooting you a look in your direction. “I’ll get it sorted out, don’t worry! Just pretend I’m not here.”

To her credit, she does get her belongings sorted out. By evening, she moves into a cleared out storage room that’s now her designated bedroom. Words are hardly exchanged other than simple pleasantries and greetings. You ask her if she had dinner, she says yes. She doesn’t take anything from the fridge other than some water. There’s a knock on the door; she answers and comes back with a package of chinese food. She offers to share some, but you modestly decline.

You never ate together when you shared a dorm in college. She would eat her inside her bedroom or after you already cleaned up. At times, she’d come back to the dorm late and you wouldn’t see her till the following day. You share the same space but you have vastly different lives. The feeling is familiar, but the setting is new: having dinner under the low light, uncertain about your futures. 

This feels like your first day together all over again.

—————

The first night with Yuqi is a quiet affair. There’s hardly any commotion. An unusual scene. She finishes her food ahead of you then retreats into her bedroom without uttering a single word. 

When you wake up the next morning, Yuqi is already at the dining table. Browsing her laptop, coffee in hand, seemingly focused on that next job application. She doesn’t even greet you or acknowledge your existence; she’s in her own world, but in a good way. 

“Morning,” you quietly say, trying to grab her attention, but it falls on deaf ears. 

“You off to work?” she asks, preceded by a mouse click while you pour onto your mug. Her attention remains glued to the screen, paying you no heed.

“Kind of?” You take a seat opposite Yuqi’s side on the table. “I work here. Or should I say: this is my workplace.” 

“Wow. I wish I could work from home. Would be nice,” she replies between mouse clicks and keyboard taps.

You take a light sip of your coffee. “What course did you take again?” 

“Umm—” Yuqi slumps back in her chair, “I think it was medicine? I wanted to become a guitarist and have my own band, but my parents wanted me to become a doctor. And I don’t wanna ruin my handwriting, so—” 

“Don’t you have a band with your friends? The one with—”

“Yeah that dream died two years ago.” Yuqi’s eyes squint, brows furrowing, running through every word slightly faster than normal. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Not even a little—”

“No.” She faces you with a surprisingly cold glare, a sight you’ve never seen before. “They can just fuck off—those goddamn bitches.” 

You find yourself unable to move the conversation forward after her abrupt turn. It’s probably for the best; you hardly paid any attention to Yuqi’s life to be entitled to a substantial explanation. 

The rest of the hour goes by in deafening, awkward silence. Here’s Yuqi, this ball of energy whose life primarily revolves around partying and getting rowdy, calmly clicking on the touchpad and typing a few words every now and then in search of a way to fund her addiction. You can tell from her sullen expression just how deprived she is of that high—how incomplete she feels without the rush of adrenaline, ecstasy, and alcohol flowing through her veins. It’s impressive how it takes someone to hit rock bottom to turn their life around, how all this could have been avoided with a few decisions.

Still, it’s never too late for someone like her, and as long as she holds up her end of the deal, i.e. leave you for good after this, you’ll actively root for her success.

—————

“Fucking hell, dude,” sighs Yuqi, slamming the panel of her laptop hard, her fist narrowing missing the edge of the table. While you’ve made yourself comfortable at your usual workplace, a spacious office desk on the other side of the living room, you’re preoccupied scanning through numerous documents and emails your boss sent you. A look at the bottom right of the screen tells you it’s half past lunch. Then your stomach grumbles, as if the clock wasn’t enough of a reminder.

“Gonna make lunch,” you say to a vexed Yuqi, who’s stretching her legs against the table and her arms to the ceiling, body likely aching from her hunched position. “You good?”

“Yep.” Her tone perfectly toes the line between sincerity and sarcasm. “Got three rejections—no, four, actually. The last one was sent minutes ago.”

You’re not sure how to respond.

“Oof.” 

You couldn’t relate to her even if you tried. Of the two applications you sent, your current job is the one that gave you the freedom and flexibility to work from home, even if it paid less than the other. That was six months ago; finding job opportunities has become way harder, or so you’ve heard from your other unemployed peers from college.

“Finding a job sucks,” says Yuqi, stating the obvious. She finally gets up from her chair, brings her laptop back into her bedroom to charge before reemerging with a hairpin wrapped around her knuckles, tying it around her loose red hair. “So, what’s for lunch?”

“Meatloaf and eggs,” you reply, firing up the stove as you grab pans from beneath the sink. “Not sure if you’ll like it, though.”

She lifts her eyebrows, intrigued, but mostly unbothered. She’ll eat anything as long as it isn’t fast food or from the convenience store, and she doesn’t have the gall to complain, anyway, as your roommate. 

—————

“So, how’s the job hunting going?” you ask her right as the sun descends over your apartment windows. You have your schedule down to a science, finishing all intended projects and goals when neighboring buildings’ lights open. Weekdays can’t be anymore mundane and monotonous, but you get the job done, you’re paid handsomely, and you have time for your other hobbies.

Meanwhile, Yuqi looks like she doesn’t want to stare at a computer screen for a week, maybe a month. She looks worse off than she did in the morning. It’s evident in her clothes, her hair, her face: frazzled and messy. A perfect representation of her state.

“What do you think?” she replies, never sounding so heated, so frustrated. A look at her screen shows a new rejection letter, piled between several others, already read. Each one with different reasons, different ways to hurt, but with the same intent: we appreciate your interest, but we have chosen a different candidate from a very competitive pool—we don’t think you fulfill our qualifications—we’re looking for someone with more experience—we wish you the best in your future endeavors. You’ve noticed she tends to click back and forth between each letter, as if to torture herself further.

“I think you should put that laptop away. Try again tomorrow,” you tell her, closing the panel while she’s scrolling, stealing her attention. She readjusts her glasses, blinking rapidly, annoyed at your little intervention. “I’m going for a walk. You should join me.”

“And what if I don’t?” she asks, threatening to pull her laptop away from your fingers. 

“Good luck going out when I have the room key then.”

“I don’t have my running shoes,” she replies, and she’s telling the truth; she only brought one pair of slippers with her, the rest being colorful sets of boots and expensive high heels.

“Then grab some from my closet and wash up. You’ll look stupid if you go out in those silly boots.”

—————

At first, you believe she had declined the offer; you had already left the building when Yuqi caught up to you moments later, huffing and puffing from exhaustion. Hey, maybe she could have been a great track and field athlete if she put her mind to it.

You can’t help but make a little comment. “Thought you weren’t going to go out.”

That was for all the times she’d make similar remarks to you back in college. They never really bothered you; you were never a man of high morals and upstanding, but at least you had your priorities sorted out, unlike Yuqi. 

Yuqi playfully counters your rib, shooting you a disparaging stare. “Dude. I’m doing you a favor by doing this.”

“Elaborate.” You laugh.

“You never went out whenever I asked you. You always said no to parties.”

“And for good reason. Look at us now.” 

If you wanted to, you’d be harsher. You have years of dirty laundry and grievances to air out, but this is as concise and as restrained as you can express them without getting accused of attempted murder. Besides, you can’t keep a straight face the longer you look at her. She clearly stands out in a rather dreary and dull crowd, and it isn’t the red hair as bright as the sun, it's her look—or lack thereof. Your oversized hoodie, your running shoes mixed with her pajamas, the lack of bra—it’s obvious she only did the bare minimum to look decent in a public setting, and yet she fits in all of them like a glove.

“Where are we going, anyway? Can it be a bar? I hope it’s a bar.” 

The first thing she wants to look for once outside is a place to drink. Of course. It’s hardly a surprise to you or anyone at this point.

“Where’s your car anyway?” you question back. 

“I dunno. Could be in the carpark, could have been impounded. I don’t remember, and I don’t really care. It smells like dogshit, anyway, cause I’ve been living in it for the past three weeks.” 

Yuqi talks with a fine blend of fast and sardonic, evidently scarred from all her ordeals with that car. She’s never experienced living outside her glass castle until now, and it shows. She’s dragging her feet with every step following you close behind, trying to soak in the scenery around her. Street lights, joggers, buskers, friends, and partners of every sort, people that you actually know and recognize. It’s all foreign in her eyes. All she knows are strobe lights, loud music, drinks, and rowdy crowds. 

“So, like, do you just go on a walk every single day or you only do this because I’m your roommate?” she wonders, her gaze lingering at a passing woman jogger that catches her eye. Jumping to conclusions, she adds, “Are you telling me to touch grass? As if I hadn’t been doing that for weeks?”

You turn around and notice her distant stare, still fixated on that woman, ruminating the prospect of leaving you for her instead. “I don’t think getting blacked out drunk and vomiting in your car counts as touching grass.”

“How do you even know that?” Yuqi faces you, provoked by your comment, pouting. “You hardly attend parties, even when I invited you. You always turned them down.”

“Word gets around fast. I thought you already knew that.” 

If she could, she’d grab you by the throat and strangle you to death or rip you in half. It stings. She questions whether your blunt, matter-of-fact delivery makes the statement ten times more scathing. Then she wonders if she made a mistake, dressing up and going after you, when you’ll just be making her regret her life decisions like her parents did. You hardly cared back then, so why now?

“Can we just go to a bar? You’re being annoying.” Yuqi stares into the distance, intentionally averting her gaze away from you.

“If you have the money, then sure, let’s go for it.” You know she has no leverage or power; she can only afford fast food and a month’s worth of groceries and daily necessities. It pains her to make a willing decision to pass on alcohol and avoid bars and parties. She’s down horrendously, but she won’t directly confess her own fatal flaw. 

It takes everything within her not to slap you square in the face. 

And you can play this game all night long until she folds. You can stand there, argue, and debate with Yuqi till she runs out of excuses and complaints. Four years of pent up material to unload onto her, make a scene in public and turn her into an example about not wasting one’s life away. You can go further, you promise. 

Instead, you both settle down in a cafe on the other side of the park as a compromise.

The place is more suited to Yuqi’s style: lively crowd, comfortable ambience, all the caffeine and sugar as a proxy to her raging alcohol addiction. Most importantly, she won’t pay for shit. You don’t even end up drinking your own order; she does it on your behalf. You settle for a tiny cup of tap water instead. In a way, she’s acting like a needy dog, desperate for attention without concern for anything else that doesn’t involve her.

“Fucking hell, I never knew I needed this,” she echoes, sipping up the last quarter of your coffee, glancing at the menu over the counter, itching for another. She’s keen on paying from her pocket this time; she recognizes you won’t give her another freebie. “This shit tastes so good.”

You can only shake your head, not even remotely trying to hide your frustration toward her. Her obliviousness is kind of cute in a way, making her look a bit sympathetic. 

“Maybe I should just work here,” she says, her eyes moving in every direction, her attention taken by something shiny every five seconds. Plenty of action happens at night: groups entering and exiting, the pervasive scent of fresh coffee brewing in real time, and plenty of girls to ogle at. In particular, there’s a waitress with a cherry tattoo on her neck that’s captured her interest. She can’t help but point her out to you, grinning widely at her. “See that waitress? She’s kinda cute.”

“Uh-huh.” You’re not really paying attention; you’re there mainly for the free wifi and a snack, not to flirt. Luckily for you both, the waitress is preoccupied with meeting high customer demands to notice. “Good idea, maybe you should apply here.”

The longer you stay inside the cafe premises, the more Yuqi becomes less inclined to leave. You end up having dinner, a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches from the snack menu. On her end, four cups of coffee strewn on the table, all drank by her. If this was some ploy to make you pay for free drinks, it worked to a tee. Anything to avoid engaging you in a serious conversation.

The opportunity never presents itself. Soon, the cafe becomes dimmer and muted. Staff are closing off sections, clearing trays, and cleaning up empty tables. Since you entered the cafe, she has not made a move on the waitress at all, even when you’ve tried pushing her over the cliff numerous times. Her shift is close to done, ready to check out for the day. One more opening. Still, Yuqi watches her intently, but can’t find the strength to stand, let alone pull the trigger.

“Well? I thought you were gonna ask her out or something.” You take a look around and come to a grim realization: that you’re the only two customers left.

“I—I don’t think I wanna do it now.” Yuqi turns around, playfully grinning, but rushing through her words. “Maybe when I get the job here. Maybe.”

You can only react in quiet disbelief to how this was all just a huge waste of time—and money.

“Fucking—” you sputter before masking the rest of your response, groaning as you rise from your seat, leaving.

After two days, your main observation is that Yuqi hasn’t changed much. If at all.

—————

The rest of the week follows a similar structure. It’s comforting; it’s the kind of monotony you’ve acquainted yourself in ever since having your own apartment. Yuqi’s always up before you, an hour in advance, she’ll tell you. At her usual spot around the dining table, on her laptop, coffee in hand. You stop asking for updates after the third day; you’re certain she’ll figure things out. Your mindfulness and curiosity get the better of you, peeking through the screen on occasion, only to find the same thing. One rejection after another, mixed in with a new application letter in between. From the outside looking in, it’s as if some divine force doesn’t want her to get that job.

In the evenings, you go for your usual walks. Yuqi joins you out of the apartment building, but instead of following, she separates and heads the other way. She’s wearing her own earphones and your hoodie, something she’ll end up keeping. The few times you run across each other, she's holding some drink in her hand, usually the coffee from the cafe you spent time with her in, her hoodie pooling with sweat all over. No pleasantries, you mind your own business till you return home.

It isn’t until two weeks after she’s moved in that you extend an invitation: a visit to a newly opened lounge on the other side of town. You preface the invite saying you only knew about the place because it had opened a month ago, and had mostly forgotten about it until you remembered her. She’s doing well for herself, so you might as well reward her for her efforts, even if it hasn’t gone anywhere. And it isn’t Yuqi without asking for some kind of favor; in this case, taking a ride in your car because hers has been impounded by the police. You’re not even surprised that she’s too lazy to reclaim it herself.

Your friend says the lounge is newly opened, but once inside, you’re uncertain about her claim. Whether it's by design or her being a complete liar, grimy, poorly lit, in the vein of all those underground clubs you had seen in action movies where a shootout or police raid occurs. Simply put, there isn’t anywhere pretty to look at, and you feel icky just by being here.

To Yuqi, it’s a fantasyland: it’s where she’s meant to be all along. She’s so overjoyed to be there. 

“It’s you!” calls a familiar voice; you turn and find a friendly face over the counter waving to you. You quietly leave Yuqi to herself and approach the bartender, who just so happens to be the owner. “I never thought you’d come and visit! It’s great to see you.”

“Only doing this for a friend, Minnie,” you silently tell her, pointing your finger at your invited guest, the sole reason you’d ever be here. She recognizes her immediately and understands.

“Yuqi, huh?” She looks intrigued, her gaze lingering at the girl. A subtle grin is forming on her face. “Never thought the two of you would be an item like that, considering she’s a party animal and you’re—”

“No—no—don’t get it twisted,” you interrupt, frantically trying to clear up any presumption. There’s no chance in hell you will ever find yourself attached to Yuqi romantically, not even a little. “It’s—a long story.”

“Do tell.” Minnie smirks, teasing, alluring. She looks the part of a bar owner, all right; dark eyelashes and shadowy lipstick matching her pitch black hair. Not to mention her slim dress perfectly hugging her tight frame, showing enough cleavage to draw attention. As a friendly gesture, she gives you a wine glass and pours a drink on it. “We’ve got all the time in the world and all the drinks you need. All in house since you’re a friend.”

So you oblige yourself to a tiny sip. The place is surprisingly quiet and empty, even though it’s the weekend, with lo-fi music playing through the speakers as the only form of background noise. Minnie doesn’t have much on her plate. She can lean on the desk and listen to you all night long.

“So, two weeks ago, Yuqi moved into my place trying to look for a job,” you tell Minnie before taking another sip. Both of you take quick glances at Yuqi, seemingly having the time of her life, scaring off the sole patron by the billiards table. “And I was wondering if you can get her a job here. She’s been rejected from every company she applied for. I know she doesn’t want to work a nine-to-five, and I suddenly remembered this place.”

Minnie raises a curious eyebrow, brushing small strands of hair covering her ear. “I see.” Looking past you, she notices Yuqi, now at the karaoke, amused by her voice and energy. You follow along and watch too, wincing at her talent, caught completely by surprise. You can feel the passion and emotion from her rather honeyed, deep singing voice, as well as her natural charisma while performing. 

“Damn. She sounds really good. Borderline natural at it.” Minnie’s in awe of Yuqi’s abilities, the sort of reaction that pushes buttons, steals the show. “Wasn’t she in a band? I know she played guitar.”

“She said it doesn’t exist anymore, won’t tell me what happened.” 

Even in the midst of conversation, Yuqi’s voice manages to snatch away your focus. She’s an extremely powerful singer—a natural, as Minnie said. Her voice is overpowering the background music with little difficulty. There’s little need to watch when her vocals can easily capture your attention all the same. 

Facing you again, Minnie replies, clasping her hands together, “How about she perform by herself?” she suggests. 

You meet her eye to eye at the drop of the notion, curious.

“What do you mean?” You take another sip.

“We have an open mic night next weekend, and we could use talent to liven up the place. She sounds perfect for that kind of gig. Who knows? Maybe she can be a resident singer if the cards are right.” Minnie smiles through every word, recognizing Yuqi’s talent and the untapped potential she has. All she needs is a platform to showcase her skill properly. And taking another glance at her, you see that too. She has the passion and the vocals to croon a live audience.

“I’ll tell her,” you say, turning to Minnie again. Yuqi has finished performing and is on her way over to the bar. Your conversation breaks off as the two women greet each other with an exchange of kisses on the cheek. 

“Great place you got here girl,” Yuqi tells Minnie, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ll be popping by often if you don’t mind.”

“Thanks. I could use some company on the weekdays, if I’m being honest.” Minnie hands Yuqi her own wine-filled glass, as well as a complimentary bottle. She makes sure not to “Take it, it’s on the house.”

“God, this is why I love you so fucking much.” Yuqi drinks up the whole glass in one swig, and immediately pours some from the complimentary bottle. Minnie can’t help but shake her head with a little smile, knowing this is still the same Yuqi she’s acquainted with since college. A rose-tinted view of days gone by. 

The two women spend the rest of the time catching up. With how much they talk, it would be a safe assumption to think that these are two long lost friends who haven’t spoken in years. Then the conversation goes on and on, revealing more details than you should probably know: exchanged  private messages as recent as last night, Yuqi’s intentions to visit the lounge sooner before present circumstances got in the way, and how she ended up in your apartment. As a listener and side character in her story, it’s a part you quite frankly never wanted, let alone be involved in under any capacity. You make sure to add your point of view in the narrative and clear every question. Whenever you chime in, they laugh heartily. It’s a mess, and they’re unapologetically quirky, never failing to make fun of you at times.

Despite everything, the topic is never brought up: the upcoming open mic night, her performance, her natural talent. You were planning to shoehorn the idea, but one too many drinks later, the conversation and opportunity eventually slips away. Again. 

Yuqi can hardly stand on her own two feet when she finally decides it's time to leave. It’s two in the morning when you guide her back to your car, with her drunk out of her mind and slipping into unconsciousness. Minnie assists you, making it even more embarrassing. Even when she’s so inebriated that she can barely move a muscle, she says she wants another round, slipping back into her old ways.

You escort Yuqi back to your apartment, setting her down on her bed and promising yourself that you’ll tell her about Minnie’s offer when she’s sober in the morning. 

Except it’s the one fucking day in the month where your job calls you into an actual office for a meeting. Despite that, Yuqi is not at her usual spot in the living room the next morning (unsurprisingly), so you leave food on the table for when she eventually wakes up.

—————

Returning late in the afternoon, you find a note from Yuqi on the outside door of your apartment, stamped by strawberry lipstick, simply reading:

> Not gonna be around till tomorrow. Have something urgent to attend to - XOXO, song yuqi

Sure enough, one brief tour of the apartment and Yuqi is nowhere to be seen. Her room remains untouched: the same, colorful space it’s always been, with most of her clothes and belongings still strewn everywhere on the floor. You don’t even mind the stickers and posters plastered all over the walls; she was gonna break that rule regardless. Typical, but expected. At least you know she hasn’t completely left yet.

Deep down, it’s the first time in a while that your apartment feels a lot smaller—and lonelier. It’s not that you have any sentimental attachment to Yuqi—not in the slightest—but her presence clearly livens up the place. The difference without her around is night and day. Even when your interactions are limited to a minimum, the brief moments you interact make living by yourself a bit more tolerable. 

So you preoccupy your mind with your usual schedule: a walk in the park, then dinner by yourself. But these intrusive thoughts grow worse and worse. You’re not in your pajamas at the usual hour, her absence is keeping you up at night, and waiting for her to walk through that door is about as brutal as federal punishment.

You end up driving to Minnie’s bar, inquiring about Yuqi’s whereabouts. She says she hasn’t been around, and she hasn’t exchanged messages with her since last night. Then she asks about open mic night; you tell her about the inconvenience, about the note on your door, which is why you’re there. Good effort, but she ultimately gives you nothing.

“You should stay here a while, who knows? I can message Yuqi you’ve been looking for her,” says Minnie, her smile as welcoming as it’s ever been. “Why not have a drink in the meantime?”

“Hmm.” You entertain the thought, but she promised to return tomorrow, and perhaps you’re overthinking it; you just have to let it play out. “No thanks.” As a distraction you’re watching another girl at the karaoke machine. She has distinctively pink hair, has similar energy and passion for singing, except her voice is much higher, more nasally. All she does is remind you of Yuqi, but she’s nowhere close—in appearance and in ability. “She promised to be back tomorrow. Maybe I should take her word for it and go home.”

A pour of wine on the glass is followed by her siren-like whisper. With her hand caressing your shoulder, she mutters, “So—you like her. You like Song Yuqi.”

You raise an eyebrow, taken aback by her statement. Facing Minnie, you reply, “What? No way. I don’t like Yuqi at all. I’m just concerned she might have disappeared, that’s all.”

“Cap.” Minnie smirks, murmurs to your other ear. “You like her. Actually, you love her. You just won’t admit it.”

“And what makes you say that?” 

“The fact you look so distressed wondering where she is. I mean—just look at you.” Her voice is slow, delicate, each word delivered with profound emphasis. She flickers a lighter, then directs the cigarette in her mouth for a puff. “Would someone who doesn’t like her worry like this?”

“I mean—I’m just trying to help her get back on her feet,” you tell her, and Minnie can only chuckle in response. Puff more smoke. In her eyes, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your words have no weight to them. It’s the same old same old most women like her hear dozens of times. I’m not into her, says the guy who’s showing an alarming level of concern towards said girl. Something she’s all too familiar with. “You know? Just looking out for a friend, that kinda thing.”

Minnie wishes she can hold up a mirror against you now to prove her point. In a place meant for everyone to relax and ease themselves, you look tumid, on the verge of a historical crash out. She smirks into her next smoke, shaking her head, scrolling through her phone. “Sure. I believe you,” she remarks, and there’s no effort made to hide the sarcasm in any capacity.

That piece of cigar looks quite appealing right now. She sells smoking like she sells the off shoulder dress draping her defined figure: exceptionally well, like she’s meant for it.

Later in the night—you’re unsure whether it’s still today or tomorrow—Minnie suddenly approaches you with a shift in enthusiasm, as seen through her grin: “You should probably head home. Unless you want to stay the night waiting for someone who won’t be here in the morning.”

“She’s back already?” You manage to decipher the hint right away.

She nods, can’t help herself from beaming continuously. No effort to lie or maintain the mystery further. “I guess you’re not as stupid as I thought you’d be.”

Running up the stairs in a hurry, you respond to her little jab with a shout, “And you owe me one for that. Actually—no, I owe you one!” 

Unknowingly, Yuqi’s little mannerisms are starting to reflect in you, too.

Sure enough, you’re home within a matter of minutes. Empty streets, dead nightlife on a weekday, the loudest thing heard for miles is the roar of your car’s engine and the elevator headed up to your apartment floor. Any other time you’d burst through that door like an officer with an arrest warrant, but it’s almost three in the morning, and the last thing you want to be is apprehended yourself after a noise complaint. 

The place remains as unchanged as you had left it: completely dark, save for one light over the kitchen. It’s quiet, eerily silent—until you hear airy, soft noises in the distance. Room by room, you carefully inspect where the sound is coming from, only to find nothing at all. 

There’s only one place left to check, and it happens to be the Yuqi’s bedroom. A room you remember being empty. As you approach the sole unopened door, you notice the faint sound growing in pitch. Hushed words from a familiar tone.

“Fuck—oh fuck—”

You press an ear against the door frame. She sounds clearer.  Way more explicit. Vivid.

“So—so—good—fuck yes—”

There’s a subtle creaking sound that accompanies her singsong tone almost perfectly. Nothing is left open for interpretation; Yuqi is feeling herself. Feeling a satisfaction that only comes from something slick, something rough, something good. 

As much as you want to respect her space, her moment in the dark, you can’t help yourself. She sounds so good, so gratifying to the ears, it’s making you a little hot and flustered, much to your own guilt and shame. You don’t care about the consequences; you’ll allow yourself one little look then pretend it never happened. At best, she’s too preoccupied with her own bliss to notice, and at worst, it’ll be one awkward conversation starter in the morning.

“Oh, oh God—you feel really good baby—just like that—”

It’s as if she’s reading your mind, understanding your intentions. The way she moans your name like an invitation—something you never thought you would hear or even consider—how it’s naturally delivered from her sweet, intoxicating voice. You’re doing yourself a disservice by listening through the door.

There’s no better opportunity than now.

With your heart racing against your chest, every nerve in your muscles tense up as it desperately opens the door, slowly and as quietly as humanly possible. Miraculously, you go completely unnoticed. Even as light from the living room slowly penetrates through Yuqi’s bedroom, it fails to cover what really matters: the bed and Yuqi herself. 

Nevertheless, the sight that welcomes you is one to behold, one worth looking at with complete awe.

Yuqi’s body is splayed out on the bed. Her legs are spread wide, a couple of her fingers aggressively rubbing against her exposed clit, and there’s a glossy sheen coating the sheets before her soaking wet core. Her clothes are, unsurprisingly, scattered all over the floor, along with a pair of consumed alcohol bottles. She’s completely bare for your eyes to see. Nothing is left to your imagination. More importantly, she looks so fucking hot. Your heart is racing like never before, and the scene has your pants in a twist.

Her other hand runs up and down her lithe frame, then squeezes her own breast. She lets out this sharp mewl, grinding her hips against air. Her jaw slacks wide. Her eyes shut tight. Her back arches. Waves of self-induced pleasure send shockwaves through every fiber of her being, her moans growing more and more erratic.

“Fucking give it to me—I love this cock so fucking much—”

It’s about as pornographic and explicit as it gets. It riles you up in an uncomfortable way; you end up unzipping your pants to free your growing erection, but nothing happens beyond that. It feels wrong. It is wrong, but you can’t muster up the strength to look away, let alone walk away. You want to see how it ends. How she cums.

She wraps a hand around her own throat, while her knees are planted upright with her feet firmly gripped on the sheets. There's a noticeable tone change in her whines, as if simulating the act. Yet, the words flow from her lips seamlessly. “I’m so close—so, so close—”

The cackle she makes after is mortifying. Here’s this girl, who you had zero attraction prior to tonight, shamelessly declaring how she’s going to cum, how good your cock feels inside her—without either of the two even happening to begin with. The fact she likes you is the least shocking revelation in itself. A reminder: you only had three meaningful conversations with her since she moved in—two if you consider how blackout drunk she was the night before, and even if you go all the way back to your college days, you can count them with your fingers alone.

“Fucking—cumming—oh my God—”

Yuqi strains her knees and loosens her grip on the sheets as she lets the pleasure wash over. Clear liquid gushes past her throbbing, relentless fingers and spills onto the linen. A guttural, deep moan fills the bedroom as she slumps her body flat on the mattress, her energy completely depleted, her thoughts filled with nothing but orgasmic bliss. Her coated hands rest on her bare waist, her tummy, leaving viscous sheen on her creamy pale skin.

When she isn’t screaming your name or touching herself to the thought of you, Yuqi, at her barest, looks so gorgeous like this. Flaws and all.

Albeit brief, it’s quite the show to more than satisfy your thirst for her. You remember your uninvited presence in this room and where you stand in this relationship. That she’s only a tenant—an acquaintance at best—and nothing more. Any other person and situation would already send you damning to hell. 

So you quietly leave, gather your bearings, hoping her haze doesn’t clear before she is made aware of your presence, but you hear a faint whisper right as you close the door, clearer than any whine of pleasure:

“Hey.”

Part of you wants to ignore her, pretend this is all a huge misunderstanding and feign ignorance. Then you hear her soft, alluring voice calling your name and it’s what ultimately folds you:

“W-what time is it?”

Again, you consider the choice of entertaining her question or leaving her dry. She’ll probably fall asleep shortly after and forget these few moments. You tell her it’s three in the morning, hoping she dozes off.

She doesn’t.

“Shit. Can you come inside? I mean—come in.”

She’s still thinking about you, and it’s admittedly cute. You love how unabashedly blunt—and lewd—she is when she’s drunk. You give her the benefit of the doubt and reenter the room.

Yuqi realizes the messy state she and her bedroom are in when you turn on the lights. Cheeks puffed and red from embarrassment, she tries to hop off the mattress, only to stumble to the floor on her fours. 

“I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t think you’d—” 

“Hey hey, it’s fine.” You grab her off the floor and sit her on the bed. “Don’t apologize. I’ll get some water; stay here and rest.”

Your eyes are meeting, hers twinkling. In those few, crucial moments, right when you’re about to leave, you feel an irresistible tug pulling you closer to each other.

Suddenly, Yuqi pulls you in by the shirt for a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips taste like actual whisky and vodka, indicating what she drank earlier that night. Yet they feel so lush, so sweet, filled with so much passion. You don’t bother trying; you fold to your lust, submit to her desire. You sink onto the bed together, never breaking apart, even for a second. Next thing you know, her hands are all over your body, roaming your chest, coiled around your neck, removing the shirt over your head to be tossed aside and completely forgotten.

Yet there’s still some resistance. Despite making the first move, she pulls back, and you do so in return. You’re hovering on top of her—an unexpected but welcome position to be in. 

“I didn’t know what got me there. I’m sorry. I just felt this sudden need to kiss you and—”

You shut her up by diving in and kissing her again, pinning Yuqi down to the mattress—the very thing that got you into this position to begin with. With you all over her, she’s able to shed the rest of your clothes: first the slacks, followed by your boxers. She mewls at the sensation of your hard cock pressed against her slit, and it’s beyond what her imagination can describe. It’s electrifying. And God, you know you’re no better than her, but you just want to fuck her right then and there, give her everything she wants without a second thought. 

Grabbing you by the scalp, she rips your lips off her chin as you’re making your way down her neck. “Not yet. Nuh uh.” She pulls you into yet another kiss, as if you’re oxygen—and in a way, it’s appropriate: you’re breathing new life into her. “Did I ever tell you that you were a good kisser?”

“Not at all,” you tell her, gently shaking your head. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

“Half bad?” Yuqi raises a sharp eyebrow, seemingly offended by your backhanded compliment. A dangerous smirk forms on her lips. “Says the one who was watching me the entire time—”

“You knew?” There’s a heightened sense of panic in your voice. “I thought  you were—”

“Shhh.” She kisses you, pulls you into a warm cuddle atop her. Slender legs wrapped around your hips, she follows: “Less talk, more lovemaking.”

And more lovemaking you do. You grow more easily acquainted with her lips than with her personality, and you barely know them: it’s only been a few minutes. Even though it’s a Thursday, the weekend feels like a lifetime away. You should be up five hours from now; you have the alarm preset and everything. But Yuqi’s getting in your way again, as she always has, and this won’t certainly be the last. She’s so hypnotic, so alluring, you find yourself unable to slip away, no matter how hard you try.

You find that it’s easier to give in than to struggle aimlessly. 

It’s effortless to get your fingers pressed inside her sopping core, brushing along sensitive, wet ridges of skin, where thoughts of you manifested into thin, delicate strokes. Her moans ring against your ears in varying pitches, each with a distinct, pulsing plea of satisfaction. Keep going, she tells you, and you follow without complaint. All this while you leave a soft path of bite marks down her neck and collarbones, until you reach her petite chest.

And fuck, you just go down on Yuqi. Sucking on her breasts like you’re in the middle of an oasis in the desert. She goes wild. Tossing, turning, trembling. You can feel her body close on you, wanting to take you in and suffocate you. The bed is creaking, growing strikingly more intense, turbulent. All this spurring you on, making you more reckless, more daring with her. 

“Mmmmm—fuck!” She lets out a hum of desperation, her hot, shaky breath fogging on your skin. You become an intertwined labyrinth of limbs that fit together, where you have no idea where it begins and where it ends. Your fingers vanish between her legs, still working tirelessly, perfectly snug around her pussy even when crushed between the weight of her thighs.

Eventually, you find yourself staring aimlessly at Yuqi. She’s so beautiful, and you’re punching yourself mentally, wondering why it took so long to come to this conclusion. Even when she’s not rocking the trendy hair color of the week and her face is a canvas for every conceivable makeup and filter, she’s naturally pretty. Especially now, completely bare—and with nothing but an exasperated, satisfied look of inebriated, lust filled bliss.

You find the light peeking from the living room, casting a shadow between your tangled legs. She’s dripping at her core, showering your fingers with a fresh flow of sheen, messing up the sheets even further if that’s even possible. They’re beyond saving at this point, and so are you. 

Rolling to her side, Yuqi wraps her arm around you, as if enticing you to stay. You shouldn’t have done this, but it’s too late: there’s no going back. You’re too lazy to close the door, and you have the girl you previously never gave a second look rubbing lazy circles on your stomach with her coated nails. Her hair draped all over your arm and shoulder, her eyes looking up at yours, acting all soft and innocent—

Until she starts talking again. “It wouldn’t be complete unless you cum inside me, wouldn’t it?”

The difference between her body language and her lips is night and day. Right then and there, you immediately recognize that there’s no other way this night will end. How your body moves at her will, how you immediately roll on top of her, as if it’s programmed to follow her every command. You have her legs pressed up and spread wide, her knees bent, lining your aching cock against the wet slit of her cunt. All while her features twist into a sickening, slimy grin in the slim shape of a lip bite. The fire, the desire—it’s still as bright as ever. 

And to make sure you aren’t second guessing the idea, her arms are coiled around your neck, her hands grabbing at your hair, pressing on your nape. Yuqi wants you—needs you—to fuck her silly; it’s the only way she can be satiated.

You watch Yuqi’s expression contort from anxious to messy, and the feeling is mutual. You slip in, slow and delicate, going against her instruction, and you almost lose it at the first stroke. The deep, guttural moan you make echoes throughout the entire apartment, while her firm walls pulse against your cock. It’s hot, it’s tense, it’s suffocating. 

“Shit, shit, shit—” you mutter, gently trying to pull back, but the fiery sensation burns, scratches away at your psyche, at your loins. “So—fucking—tight—Yuqi—fuck.”

“C’mon. Fuck me. Fuck me now.” She kisses your ear, her legs pounding against your hips, demanding you to move. There’s some serious intent behind her tone, a seamless blend of demand and impatience. “Use that big cock—mmm!”

You can only groan in response as you thrust back in deep, her grip on your body tighter than ever. And it’s more than just her cunt; she’s clinging onto you for dear life.

It hardly matters when you’re leaving sore, red marks on her skin or ripping through the blankets. It hardly matters when Yuqi can barely breathe. It hardly matters when you’re so loud that everyone can hear you. What’s important is you’re fucking her—and you’re fucking her hard. You both love the filthiness to it. There’s no rhythm, no pace, no flow; it’s one slow deep thrust, followed by a fast pump into her tight, inviting cunt. You become comfortable; you take her like she’s meant to be used.

And Yuqi takes your cock so fucking well. Bounces against every stroke with ease, as if the feeling is second nature to her. Knowing her, she’s probably been in this position more than you’d want to know or hear. You don’t really care about that for now. Even after what seems to be an endless cascade of orgasms, she’s still keening, still needy, still soaking wet that it’s alarming. Her back arches, melts deep into the cushion. She still wants more.

“So—fucking—good—more—need—fuck—”

The only noise you need is the mesh of your flesh slapping against hers, bouncing against her sharp cries of pain and pleasure. Reaching into the deepest, most sensitive parts of her pussy with your cock, this violent shudder rocks both you and Yuqi to your core. With each drag, more of her slick coats your shaft, and the easier you get access to her smothering heat. You can’t find the will to stop, not that you ever want to; she feels so warm, so inviting, so sloppy sounding to the ears that it’s driving you just as crazy as her.

It’s also driving you wild why it took you this long to fuck her—use her—like this. If you had known, you would have cared sooner. You’d have some leverage when it came to negotiations. A body like hers is too good not to have on speed dial.

Right now, it’s the least of your concerns. Not when you’re pounding a tight body like Yuqi’s so freely, hearing her demand to fuck her harder, like your life’s depending on it. Better late than never.

And it’s for the best that the moment happens later rather than sooner. She cums. Cums again. Eventually you’ve stopped counting, because there’s no point. The mere thought of you restarts the cycle, and your touch accelerates the process. The clutch of her cunt is too overwhelming to avoid at this point; it’s all but directly telling you to fill her, to unload all that pent up tension and need into her. The thought never bubbled up in your head even once; the idea of you and Yuqi with a child together. You never really questioned it. She goes out often, probably gets fucked multiple times in one night if she’s with willing company. She probably knew you’d walk in on her; hell, she’s probably got this whole thing planned out and Minnie is one of her accomplices. Maybe the entire time, she’s been yearning for you, because you’ve never heard her this passionate, this loud, this filthy in your life, even at her most inebriated.

“Inside me. Please cum inside me. I’m safe, don’t worry,” she whispers, as if she’s reading through your mind, reassuring you from your doubts. Her hand is palming your back, as if to line you straight so your cock directly hits her sweet spot. She sounds so pretty, it’s almost impossible to resist.

“Gonna cum,” you tell her, voice going hoarse, rasp, and she nods immediately in return, reinforcing the notion. She’s focused her effort on holding on, her legs tightly wrapped around your waist, her arms coiled around your neck, subtly pushing you against her hips. 

“This—pussy—so—fucking—God,” you mindlessly utter, averting her doe eyed gaze, desperate to cling to the last of your resolve as it quickly dissolves with each thrust. You’re on borrowed time and it’s quickly slipping away. Yuqi is tilting your face down to her, to her airy breaths, to her fluttering eyelids, to her passionate expression as you fuck her, pushing you over the edge. “Holy fuck, Yuqi—”

Yuqi’s lips part like a flower in bloom, and it’s a pretty sight. Yet it’s not enough of a distraction to keep everything from falling into place.

And God, it fucking burns. 

You swallow hard, but are unable to keep that groan suppressed. Your hips meet her halfway, your cock comfortably buried deep in her heat, and that’s where you come undone. Yuqi digs deep into your skin as it fills her—your cum—and she goes frozen at that moment. It’s a quiet, tense flash of silence. Afterward, she finally breaks. Cries out this deafening whine, her grip all over you loosening, time eventually catching up to her. 

She lays beneath you, completely limp, but her body remains trembling, shaking, seizing. You don’t find the strength to drag your cock from her heat; the feeling lingers. Endless ropes of cum gushing into her womb, emptying yourself, just as she wanted. Then you pull out, agonizingly slow, and more viscous slick gushes from her core. 

You feel guilty for that poor patch of soaked linen between her legs. It’s about as ruined as a collapsed power plant.

There’s little need for Yuqi to beg you to stay. The climax saps whatever energy you had left. You end up slumping flat on your belly beside her, both of you bathed in the afterglow of sex, exhausted from an already long day, too worn out to make another sound. And when you’re tired, any bed, no matter how messy it may be, is a comfortable bed.

—————

You already expected the scene at the breakfast table to be awkward.

And it was.

It isn’t until Yuqi calls you out standing at the doorway of her room that you realize you’ve been shooting a thousand yard stare the whole time. She waves at you, her cheeks red, flustered, chuckling. “Good morning to you, I guess. Put something on. I don’t wanna drink coffee while looking at someone’s dick. It’s gross.”

This time you’re the one unbecoming, completely in the nude while she got herself into some pajamas. Despite that, you hardly feel any guilt or shame, like this is a normal occurrence in the household. So you scramble to your room and get appropriately dressed. A look at the time and it’s already 15 past ten in the morning, an hour later than when you normally start work. Even more unusual is the absence of the laptop. It’s just Yuqi and her coffee.

Sitting opposite Yuqi, today seems a bit more tense than normal, and you can guess the reason why. She knows it, too. Neither of you are willing to break the ice, only shooting occasional glares at each other while sipping on coffee and scrolling through your phones.

“So, Yuqi.”

The words slip from your mouth, accidental, nearly silent. They follow the mild screech of the chair she sits on. When you meet eye to eye, she asks what’s up. What's on your mind? There’s a sudden barrier in your throat. You have a vague idea of what to say, but not the power to speak them. 

“About last night—”

Her lack of response is unnerving. The visible curiosity, the probable apathy. You and her possibly sharing the same sentiment: a feeling of regret. 

“I—I just wanted to say sorry. For last night. I should have just—”

“Sorry for what?”

You suddenly stop. This is not the expected reaction; it’s the complete opposite. A moment where you face the consequences of your actions.

Yuqi stands up and walks over to your side, beaming from ear to ear. “What we did last night was—fucking amazing. Don’t feel bad. If anything, I should feel bad because I didn’t tip you off sooner. We could have done so much more.”

You don’t pick up on the implication right away. It’s all strange, uncharted territory. Your previous flings were simple one-and-dones: a night of reckless, frivolous fun. Short, but fun nonetheless. They would disappear in the morning, never to be seen again.

“I didn’t think you’d walk through that door, especially since it was three in the morning,” says Yuqi, casual, running her fingers through your hair. “I got a bit too silly, as usual, but there’s a good reason for it.”

“And that is?”

“I got a job!” Yuqi’s gripping to your shoulder, the only thing keeping her from jumping for joy. “I got a job at the cafe with the pretty lady. I start on Monday.”

It’s certainly a cause for celebration. You can’t help but root and smile for her, caressing her hands. “Well, damn. Congratulations.”

“Yeah!” Yuqi’s wrapped you in a rather heartwarming embrace that you willingly fold into. “I had the interview yesterday, so I needed to lock in. Needed to be alone. Then I got accepted after, so I went and bought some drinks to celebrate.”

That doesn’t surprise you one bit. You’re just thrilled that she’s finally getting somewhere.

“So—does that mean I can kick you out once you get your first paycheck?” you ask her.

“I guess so. But—” Yuqi pauses, tilts your chin on an incline. She’s warm, radiant, pretty. She doesn’t care that you’ve worded yourself poorly and you’re taking it back; she’s still riding off the high from yesterday. You’re already counting the days before she leaves, and admittedly, you’ll miss that sight. “I’m gonna miss staying with you. Thanks for having my back when I needed it. I honestly don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

She tops it up with a quick peck on your lips. It’s all over your face, etched completely in red. The devilish grin. 

“I think I know exactly how.”

And that’s all that needed to be said.

Before you know it, you’re right back at square one: clothes scattered everywhere on the floor, her body pressed on the mattress, flat on her belly, your cock stretching her pussy out as you fuck her mindlessly from behind. This time in the comfort of your own bedroom.

All the more reason for you two to stay together.

—————

(A/N: fucksorryforgoingonanotherhiatusfuckfuckfuck—)

(Okay, but I really do wanna apologize for going on yet another unannounced hiatus. Final weeks of the semester were hell, then I was on vacation the week I promised this fic would be released (I'm basically the LeBron James of K-smut when it comes to lying at this point), not to mention a health scare courtesy of my mother. Some very hard times have hit me lately, so my mind wasn't 100%. Nevertheless, I am still standing (shoutout Elton John). Lots of free time throughout June and July, so hopefully nothing bad happens ISTG lemme have some peace for once and let me fucking write goddammit—)

(In non-personal news, Yuqi's solo was very fun and she's getting on that Yena level of bias where she's the perfect blend of cute and hot. Then she went pink recently and that made me :pphurt: Sort of a feel out fic before I *finally* finish these commissions over the coming weeks, thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #gidle #yuqi #song yuqi

[witerh]

need each other || boyfriend re4rleon

warning: nsfw, fluff, mention of leon's ptsd, dom/soft leon! phone handjob, on distance, dirty talk, animal names, caresses, orgasm, consolation, comfort.

rating: mature

plot: your boyfriend's long absence from home makes you miss him not only mentally but also physically.

all rights reserved!| please don't copy my work without permission!| 18+ content!| minors DON'T interreact!|

Long-distance relationships, no matter what temporarily or forever, are always an unbearable longing and need. Thoughts are filled only with when he will return and worry about one rustle at home because he can will return at any moment. A couple of days, weeks and months have already been passing for too long, hours and minutes are like honey — they are slowly tormenting you with its slowness. Joy knows no bounds when you hear a notification on your phone, you hope that it’s your boyfriend, but it turns out it’s just a notification about the weather forecast. At night, hiding a pillow between your legs is simply unbearable because the desire to feel real touches is much stronger. Memories of his hands on your body, wanting to console you and calm you down from bitter tears that you don’t deserve make you sad while he consoled himself with a glass of whiskey at the bar. The atmosphere in the house just suffocates you like never before. You are used to coming home from work and smelling the cooked dinner, comforting yourself in the arms of the blond talking about your day. But now it’s deathly silence, broken by the jingle of your keys in the lock.

A stream of cool air blows into your bedroom through the slightly open window while you lie in bed and chat with Leon. The corners of your lips turn up as you can you hear his voice as if it were some kind of treasure. His words through the phone speaker feel like they are say from the heart. Admitting how much he misses you and will be back soon with a gift in the form of a new dress that you saw on Instagram makes your heart beat faster than before. You tell how things are going on with you at work and, in general, the upcoming news in your life. You haven’t seen him for a long time, you haven’t felt his comfort and the warmth for a long time which now replaces blanket. Fleeting conversations with him on the phone warm you more than any fireplace in a harsh winter that does not want to be consoled. This mission is too long for both of you and your cunt is already getting wet from his message: “How is my girl coping there alone at home, hmm?" It torments you, but at the same time it gives you pleasure like never before. Sweet torture that you are ready to endure on your own skin with defeat and hand in panties.

While talking about something new at your work, you didn’t even not right away notice how Leon was half naked and with rosy cheeks. He often worked out in the gym, because you always need to keep in shape, just as you always need to keep the bookshelves in order from dust in your house. He carefully tried and trained his muscles, so that veins almost burst under his slightly tanned skin. I can’t say that you didn’t admire his muscular body, his chest, his abs, but still it was too much. It was too beautiful a sight for your head to see his strong hands, that a pool had already formed in your mouth from your saliva. You didn’t even ask your boyfriend whether he was home from practice or not, because you still knew the answer: “Yes, I was, baby, otherwise it wouldn’t be me.”

— You think so, what if were you at home and touched me right now? Explain yourself for me. — you reproached into the speaker feeling a rather familiar knot inside your lower abdomen. The sound of your voice so alluring made him root for you even more. Leon could imagine the playful smirk on your lips as you teased him. His strong hand ran over his aching cock, which needed you more and more. Kennedy's imagination is simply clouded by excitement and he cannot think right now.

— I would lie between your thighs... and eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner... I'll make you scream my name until you forget yours... — he sighed softly lost in my imagination. About how you squeeze his skull with your plush hips, how you will cry for release while his tongue carefully works over your body, how your hands grab onto his strands of hair as if it were a sheet that was stained with your juices and his saliva. It makes his skin crawl. Leon threw his heavy head back onto the pillow, which eventually flopped from the big fantasies of your entertainment after his mission.

He will definitely make your pussy happy.

His blond hair sticks to his forehead due to sweat because it's so hot in the hotel room! With every statement and request from Leon, you felt that there was already a lake of your fluids under your ass. There is no point in resisting the temptation, and your hand is already under the lace fabric and circling over your clitoris, caressing you while you imagine that these are his fingers.

— Oh, Leon, — you mutter for him and only him — I want you... — your words were a request and a plea with heavy breathing. Your words and the sounds of your cunt squelching against your finger made the fire inside him flare up. His hand lowered his sweatpants freeing his already hard cock from its confines. Leon's movements were desperate when he heard this symphony of your sighs and sounds.

— What a good girl, — he answered, frowning from the tension in this situation. With every stroke he imagined that you were doing this to him which brought him to an uncontrollable state. Your shared muffled chorus of arousal and moans was heard only by both of you and no one else. — What do you want, baby, now?.. I will do everything I can in my power, —

Your fingers began to tremble due to the way you were squeezing them with your walls. His voice and words were stuck in your head for a couple of seconds while you thought about them while your boyfriend continued to console himself and you heard it perfectly. — Fuck me, Leon... Рlease... I need you so much.. right now, — your thighs began to tremble involuntarily — a sign that your fingers were doing their job well.

— I'm close.. very.. Oh God.. — Kennedy's slight muttering that you couldn't quite understand. Leon was quiet that there were almost no moans for you, but for him your moans were very often. His hand increased the pace of movement, smearing precum from the red tip with his thumb. You both lost your breath and the approach only increased without stopping for mercy. The tension in the lower abdomen tormented him greatly, as did you, constantly reminding him of the long-awaited release. With each passing moment, the intensity of your pleasure grew until it became almost unbearable. It's too much.

— Cum for me, baby, be a good girl for me... — he coos and his voice was hoarse with his desire and need for you. You succumbed to temptation with a hoarse cry, feeling like a knot was untying in the lower abdomen and your pussy ached and ached while your hips stood up slightly in trembling. You are lost and your mouth is dry and there is not enough saliva while your body is all wet from sweat and your own fluids, not to mention the sheet under you and now dirty pajamas. You could only hear his moans and low growls of his release with your encouragement. Thick strings of sperm released into his palm also staining his clothes and his skin.

You both walked away and breathed heavily without saying anything. — You liked it baby, huh? — his murmur was heard with the slight rustling of a napkin as he removed dirt from himself. Kennedy wanted to hear your approval or to hear what he did wrong in this unusual meeting on the phone. — This is not just “good”, it is ideal and only ideal, — you quietly whispered back.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #older leon kennedy #re4 #comfort #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fanfic #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut

[its-avalon-08]

daniel ricc getting super jealous of how close you are with lando norris. make it angst if i squint, cute and fluffy, overproetctive honey badger

i would choose you (dr3)

(sorry for being inactive </3 :( )

Daniel Ricciardo couldn’t shake the growing unease that gnawed at him whenever he saw Y/N and Lando together. It started with small things. Like the morning when he walked into the hospitality area and saw Lando handing Y/N her favorite coffee. The smile she gave him was warm, appreciative. Daniel's stomach twisted slightly, but he kept quiet, forcing a smile.

Then there were the times during race weekends when he found them laughing together while watching a show on Lando's phone. Their heads would be close, shoulders touching as they shared earbuds. Daniel stood in the doorway, unnoticed, feeling like an outsider in their little world.

The final straw came one evening when they were all hanging out in the paddock lounge. Y/N and Lando were bantering back and forth, their inside jokes flying over Daniel’s head. Lando said something that made Y/N burst into laughter, her eyes crinkling with joy. Daniel’s heart ached seeing her so happy, yet he couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy.

Each time, Daniel bit his tongue, telling himself it was nothing. But the jealousy kept building, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for a moment to spill over.

Danny stood in the paddock, his eyes following Y/N and Lando as they chatted animatedly by the McLaren garage. A pang of jealousy twisted in his chest. He knew Lando was just a friend, but seeing them so close made him uneasy. He clenched his fists, taking a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling.

Y/N glanced over, catching Daniel's eye. She waved and smiled, her face lighting up. Daniel forced a smile back, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

After a while, Y/N made her way over to Daniel, still smiling. “Hey, babe. You okay?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Daniel replied, trying to sound nonchalant. But his voice betrayed him, tinged with a hint of frustration.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off. “Really? Because you don’t seem fine.”

Daniel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just…you and Lando. You guys are really close.”

Y/N's eyes softened. “He’s just a friend, Daniel. You know that.”

“I know,” Daniel admitted, looking down. “I just… I get jealous. I can’t help it.”

Y/N chuckled softly, stepping closer to him. “You have nothing to worry about. I love you, silly.”

Before she could say anything more, Daniel pulled her into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around her protectively, holding her close. Y/N laughed, her voice muffled against his chest.

“You’re so silly, Dan. I love you and only you,” she said, her words warm and reassuring.

Daniel tightened his hold, burying his face in her hair. “I just don’t want to lose you,” he murmured.

“You won’t,” Y/N said firmly, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Daniel smiled, feeling the weight of his jealousy lift. “I’m sorry for being so overprotective.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, kissing his cheek. “Just remember, you’re the one I love.”

Daniel hugged her again, a sense of calm washing over him. “I love you too, Y/N. More than anything.”

They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them fading away. In that moment, Daniel knew that as long as they had each other, everything would be okay.

After their conversation in the paddock, Y/N and Daniel walked back to his hotel room hand in hand. The tension had lifted slightly, but Daniel still felt a residual unease within his heart. Once inside, Y/N turned to him, her eyes filled with concern and love.

“Dan, come sit with me,” she said softly, leading him to the couch.

Daniel sat down, his shoulders slumped. Y/N took his hands in hers, her touch gentle and comforting.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel insecure,” she began, her voice sincere. “I never meant to. You mean the world to me.”

Daniel looked into her eyes, his expression softening. “I know, Y/N. It’s just…seeing you with Lando, so happy, it made me feel like maybe I wasn’t enough.”

Y/N shook her head, squeezing his hands. “You’re more than enough, Daniel. Lando is a good friend, but you’re my love. My partner.”

Daniel’s eyes glistened with emotion. “I love you so much. I just don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

“You won’t lose me,” Y/N said firmly. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You have my heart, Dan. Always.”

Daniel smiled, the tension in his body slowly melting away. “I’m sorry for being so jealous. I trust you, I really do. It’s just hard sometimes.”

“I understand,” Y/N said, brushing a hand through his hair. “But you need to know that you’re the one I want to be with. You make me happier than anyone else ever could.”

Daniel’s heart swelled with love. “I feel the same way about you.”

Y/N moved closer, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. “Let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

She peppered his face with kisses, her laughter light and contagious. Daniel chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him. Y/N’s affection was like a balm, soothing his insecurities.

“I love you,” she murmured between kisses. “I love your smile, your laugh, your kindness. Everything about you.”

Daniel closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of her lips on his skin. “I love you too, Y/N. More than words can say.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. “Promise me something, Dan?”

“Anything,” he replied without hesitation.

“Promise me you’ll talk to me whenever you feel this way. I don’t want you to bottle it up. We’re a team, and we can handle anything together.”

Daniel nodded, a newfound resolve in his eyes. “I promise. I’ll talk to you. I don’t want to lose what we have.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes shining with love. “Good. Because what we have is special, and I’m not letting you go.”

They shared another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate. As they held each other, Daniel felt a sense of peace. He knew there would be challenges, but with Y/N by his side, he was ready to face anything.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, holding her close.

“I love you too, Daniel. Forever and always.”

#daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #dr3 #dr3 x reader #dr3 imagine #f1 edit #formula 1 #f1 imagine #formula one #red bull racing #y/n #mcalren #redbull #fia #ferrari #romance #requests #ava speaks #daniel riccardo x reader #lando norris #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #ln4 #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #ln4 x female reader

[f1-jay]

Be Mine - Fernando Alonso

Pairing: Fernando x PR manager!Reader

Summary: Both of you are fully aware of your feelings for each other but despite the mutual attraction, you resist pursuing a relationship due to professional boundaries. However, after a month of unresolved tension, you end up in Fernando's hotel room and share a night you won't forget.

Warnings: Age Gap, MDNI-Smut (Slightly intoxicated sex, fingering (F recieving), Oral(F & M recieving), P in V), Maybe one to many uses of Princesa

Words: 7.1k

This is my first fanfic so sorry if it's actually a piece of crap :)

Fernando rolled his eyes for the third time in about ten minutes. He got himself into this situation, so he has to face the music. It’s not like lecturing him about what he should or shouldn’t say during an interview is fun for you either, but it was a common event. Did he know how to shut his mouth?

“Come on! You want me to stop being me or something?” He asks as he throws his hands up.

“If that’s what it takes, then yes!" Your voice was slightly raised, and you slowly exhaled to calm yourself. Fernando groaned and threw his head back, looking up at the ceiling. He hated to be lectured, especially by someone younger than him. His eyes drift back to you.

“Anything else you’d like me to change while we’re at it? My personality or my hair?” He ran his hand through it as he spoke, mockingly.

“Fernando! Can you please be serious for one moment? All I’m asking is that you think about what you’re saying before it leaves your mouth.” You emphasise the ‘please.’ A small chuckle leaves his mouth, and he smiles.

“How about we make a deal? I’ll watch what I say if you agree to go on a date. Like, as a reward for me being good?” He knew he was pushing his luck, but he couldn’t help but mess with you a little.

“I’m your PR manager.”

“So? Doesn’t change much. You’re just as free to say yes or no, but it would make me more likely to follow your advice.” He pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek, trying to hold back a smile. “Do we have a deal?”

“We can hang out once; it's not a date though, okay?” He sits forward slightly as he smiles before standing up and sliding his jacket on.

“It’s a date, Princesa. I’ll be at your door by, let’s say, 7?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? And it’s not a date, but sure, 7 works. Only if you’re on your best behaviour today, though.” He heads towards the door and turns back to look at you.

“You think I can’t be on my best behaviour? I can be polite when I want to be.” He pulls the door open. “I’ll see you tonight.” To your surprise, Fernando gets through media day without causing even the smallest amount of trouble. He has to stay at the track a little while longer than you do, you find him to ask if you were going out or staying in. “Going out, I got a reservation at a nice little Italian place. It’s not too far. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” I look down at my watch. “I’ll see you in an hour and a half. Don’t be late!” He was glad that you liked the idea.

“Of course I will be on time. I’m on my best behaviour, remember?” He couldn’t help but tease. Back at the hotel, you get ready, a sweet dress and a pair of heels, as well as applying a minimal amount of makeup and fixing your hair. You sit around for a little while until there’s a knock at your door. Looking up at the clock, it's exactly 7 o’clock. You open the door and greet him. His eyes look down, then back up. “Hi, you look beautiful." A small smile on his face. “Are you ready to go?”

"Yeah.” You nod and step out, closing the door. He offers you his arm, and you take it, walking to the expensive sportscar that was hired for him and opening the door for you. After a short drive, you arrive at the restaurant, getting seated immediately. The two of you make conversation as you wait for a server to come around; he orders for both of you.

“Sorry for being a pain in the ass with the whole media thing. I appreciate you putting up with me.” You tilt your head slightly.

“Wow, was that a sincere apology from the Fernando Alonso?” I ask with a fake, overdramatic, shocked tone. He groaned at how you spoke and shook his head with a laugh.

“Don’t be sarcastic; I’m trying to be genuine.” He said with an amused smile.

“Right, Sorry. Keep going.”

“I do appreciate it. Your job is hard enough without me adding to it. I’ll watch what I say and try to keep my mouth shut.” He was being truthful, and he figured he could trust that she was staying around now. You replaced his last manager halfway through the season after they only joined at the start of the year.

“Don’t keep it shut too tight; sometimes it's fun trying to get you out of a mess.” You shrug.

“No, see, you’re going to regret saying that, and I’ll start causing a mess just because you said it’s ‘fun’ to get me out of it. You’ve given me a reason to be a pain now.”

“I mean, I like when you make a funny remark that someone may take the wrong way.”

“You like when I cause trouble, even if you have to get me out of it. You like my stupid remarks even though you have to make me take them back and apologise? That’s evil. You enjoy the power trip of making me behave.” The server brings out your food and wine, which you both thank him for. You look back at Fernando.

“Only because I know how much you hate it. I love watching you squirm. Never gets old.” You giggle, and he scoffs.

“That’s it. No more of this best behaviour stuff. Tomorrow I’m going to say something really unhinged, cause a big mess.” He teased. I shake my head and hold a finger towards you.

“No, you will not.”

"Oh, but I will. You’ll regret saying everything you just said. You’ll be spending weeks trying to clean up and fix the chaos I cause.” You raise your eyebrows as if to say, ‘Really?’

“Yeah? You’re really going to do that?”

“I want to do it. You said it’s fun, which means you can’t complain when I cause a mess.” He smiles.

“Anything I can say or do so you forget what I said, and you don’t cause hell for me?”

“Anything?” The mischievous look on his face was enough to make you want to backpedal.

“Nearly anything”

“Aye, nearly anything? You just said anything; now it's nearly anything? What are you scared of doing? What don’t you want to do?” He questioned.

“Nothing that crosses our professional relationship.” He looks at you, amused by your response.

“Oh? You’re worried about professionalism? Is that just a nice way of saying you don’t want to kiss me, Princesa?” I laugh and look down as I confirm your thought. “What’s wrong? Afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of me?” He was clearly enjoying himself.

“No, it’s the fact that I’m 17 years younger than you and your PR manager.”

“So it’s the fact that I’m older and you work with me that’s the problem. Not the fact that you don’t want to kiss me.”

"Uh, N- No, I wouldn’t do it regardless.” You quickly state.

“You’re not making it very convincing. If you didn’t want to, you wouldn’t have stuttered.”

“You’re twisting my words.” Your voice raises in pitch as you get defensive.

“No, I’m not. You said ‘N-no’ and stuttered. You are flustered.” He smiles and leans forward, placing his elbow on the table. “You can admit you want to kiss me. It’s okay.” You deny it once again. “That might be the worst attempt at denial I’ve ever heard.” He really didn’t believe you.

“I think it’s time to wrap this up.” You drink the rest of what’s in my wineglass. He chuckled, noticing how quickly you wanted to get out of the conversation.

“What’s the matter? The night doesn’t have to end just yet.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to say something that you’ll later regret.” You stand up from your seat.

“I could never regret flirting with you. It’s cute when you’re flustered.” He keeps his eyes on you, and you look straight back.

“Are you driving me back, or should I order myself an Uber?" He thought it was funny how desperate you were to leave. He was clearly getting under your skin and found it entertaining.

“Of course I’ll drive you back; I’ll even walk you to your door.” You roll your eyes at what he says.

“You don’t really have a choice. You’re staying in the room next to mine.”

“That just means we get to spend some more time together.”

“How exciting!” you say in a flat tone. You stand up, and he follows, heading to the car. There is limited conversation on the drive back to the hotel. When you arrive, you head up the elevator and then through the corridors. The only sound was footsteps on the carpeted floors. He waited until you reached your rooms to speak.

“I guess this is goodnight then. Thank you for coming out; I had fun.” You bid him goodnight with a smile and enter your room. He watched as you went in before heading into his own room. Neither of you wasted time settling down for the night. He began to think about what he might say tomorrow just to annoy you. While you were in your room, you were still thinking about how Fernando asked you on a date. He consumed your thoughts—how you wanted to kiss him, about being in a relationship, and those dates being a regular thing. One kiss wouldn’t be bad, right? You throw on a jumper, grab your keycard, and leave your room. When you hear the TV on, you knock on his door, and a few seconds later it opens.

“What are you-” Your hand comes up to cradle his head and guide it towards you, and he looks at you strangely, wondering what you’re doing while he’s still trying to question you. He wasn’t able to finish, as you cut him off by kissing him. It takes him by surprise, but without delay, his hand gently rests on your waist, and he kisses you back. The kiss lasts a few seconds before you pull away and lower your hand back to your side. Your eyes searched his, waiting for a reaction. All he could do was look back at you, trying to understand what had just happened. “What was that for?” He asked, his voice quiet.

“So you won’t cause havoc tomorrow?” You shrug as you fiddle with the hem of your jumper. He let out a small laugh as he wondered if you were actually trying to pretend that was the reason you’d done it. He asks if you’re sure that’s the only reason, and you nod. His facial expression makes it obvious that he doesn’t believe you; his eyebrow arched and a smirk spread across his face.

“You expect me to believe that you went and kissed me, just so I’d do my job without causing problems?”

“You didn’t tell me an alternative choice earlier” the tone of your voice slightly higher than usual. He looks you up and down, his smirk turning into a smile.

“So it's my fault you kissed me? It sounds like you’re deflecting, Princesa.”

“I’m not!” After a few moments of silence, you speak again. “Anyway, it’s getting late. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You turn away to go back to your room. He wanted to ask more questions but let you go, deciding he’d deal with it tomorrow. He takes a step out of his room, and just before you enter, he whistles to get your attention.

“Goodnight. I hope you sleep well.” You enter your room and lean against the door, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. You couldn’t believe what you did, and neither could he.

The next morning, both of you were still stuck on the kiss. You headed to the track at separate times, but you knew that eventually you had to greet him. As he sees you walk towards him, he smiles. You both just say a simple greeting before he starts teasing. “How’d you sleep last night? Were you thinking of me?”

“I promise you, I slept just fine.” You roll your eyes, knowing this is going to be a long day.

“No thoughts of me? I’m a little offended.”

"Good.” You give him a sarcastic smile.

“You hurt my feelings.” He puts his hand over his heart to add to the drama.

“You have an interview in 10. I suggest we head over and get you ready.” You start walking to the place where it’s being held. As you were heading there, he leant in, speaking in a hushed voice.

“I will get you to admit that you don’t regret kissing me.”

“When did I say I regretted it?” you ask without looking at him. A small look of surprise was on his face. He had expected you to argue or make a sassy remark like always.

“You don’t regret it?” You tell him you don’t. He was semi-confused. “And here I was thinking you didn’t want to.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to either." You look at him and shrug. He laughs because, whether or not you wanted to or not, you still did it. “Actions speak louder than words.” He winks at you.

“Yeah, okay.” You scoff.

“Scoff all you like, but you kissed me. You initiated a kiss between us.”

“I can't believe you are so caught up on it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

“I mean…” He pauses for a second. “I think it’s reasonable that I am. Especially since you still haven’t explained why you did it.”

“I’ve explained myself; you’re just choosing not to believe it.”

“Your explanation is that you kissed me because I was threatening to cause a little chaos. You really expect me to believe that?” He throws his hands up.

“For the final time, yes!" You speak with a serious tone and a slight annoyance.

“Okay, I believe you.” He couldn’t deny that he wished you kissed him because you wanted to. Silence falls between you two. Not long after, you’re doing the interview, and soon it's finished. You both head to the Aston Martin garage. The walk back is the same: quiet. It leaves you thinking about how you had lied to him and how you wanted to let him know how you felt, but you knew that any sort of relationship, romantic or sexual, would end in disaster. The silence was deafening, but neither of you noticed as you were too wrapped up in your thoughts. We make it back to the garage, and it’s time for you to prepare for FP1.

“I’ll see you after practice." His eyes flicker to yours as he pulls himself away from his thoughts, and he nods. Throughout practice, he couldn’t seem to focus properly; he ended in P17. He had a conversation with some of his team members about what might be wrong. Then he participated in an interview and watched the F2 practice. It was time for FP2, so he headed back out, hoping to do better than the last round, P14. His teammate was still ahead of him, showing that the team had a good car this weekend. He felt slightly disappointed in his results as he sat through another briefing and another couple of interviews.

Later that day, you were back in your rooms, feeling more tired than usual. The kiss seemed to be stuck on replay in both of your minds. Neither of you knew what to do with yourself. You decide to try to go to bed early, tossing and turning for what feels like forever. The thought of going to Fernando’s room again was tempting. He found himself in the same situation, unable to fall asleep. He kept thinking about the reason you kissed him, and that made him frustrated at himself. Why was he in love and you were fine? He thought about how you’d probably be horrified that he wanted to hold you close and kiss you.

You groan and throw the covers off in frustration, pacing around the room, trying to keep busy in any other way than with your thoughts of him, but you couldn’t help yourself. Thinking about all the different situations, what if you just told him that you had feelings for him? You could just quit and never see him again, Ask to be moved into a different role so you aren’t directly connected to him, Just deal with the tension and try your best to ignore it, Try to tempt him until he makes a move?

He continued to toss and turn till he also gave up; he went to the bathroom to freshen up. He stared at himself in the mirror, before sighing heavily. He knew he had to do something. He couldn’t keep this up and didn’t want to keep his feelings to himself. Deciding to just bite the bullet, he left his room to head over to yours. When you hear a noise, you stop walking. Were you just hearing things, or did someone knock? Another soft knock echoes on your door. You take a look through the peephole, seeing him. You contemplate not opening the door; what could you possibly want at 12:15am except to talk about the obvious. It could clear everything up, or it could make it all worse. Taking a deep breath, you open the door slightly.

“Hey, what’s up?” you ask quietly. He felt like any time would be better than now, but he was determined and needed to get it off his chest. He looked up once you spoke.

“Can I come in?” You nod and step aside, opening the door wider. “I couldn’t sleep,” he admits as he walks in, stopping in the middle of your room. The moonlight is just enough to make out the features of each other’s faces. He had been thinking about how he would do this, but now, standing in front of you, he seemed lost.

“Yeah? Neither,” you say as you close the door.

“That doesn’t surprise me. The kiss must be replaying in your mind as well. He asked with the slightest hint of teasing in his voice.

“Not exactly” He raises his eyebrow at her. He was almost certain that she was thinking about it just as much as he was. He thought that maybe you just didn’t want to admit it.

“Then what were you thinking about?”

“Things” you shrug.

“What kind of things? What’s got you thinking so much that you can’t sleep?”

“You came in here wanting to talk about something, I assume it wasn’t about sleep, so...” You tried to change the topic.

“You’re right. I’m here because I have a lot I want to say.”

“Well, I’m listening.” He tried to think about how to start. He wanted to do it in a way that was clear.

“For starters, I don’t believe you kissed me only because you thought you needed to.” Even though he pauses, you don’t speak just yet. “There’s no way! Your eyes told me that you wanted it. The passion told me that you wanted to kiss me. Your words don’t line up with your actions.” He watched you carefully, so even if you didn’t speak, he could tell how you felt from your expressions or body language.

“What else do you think you know?”

“I think you have feelings for me too, and you don’t want to admit it because of the position that we’re in, but there’s undeniable chemistry and attraction between us. And you can’t tell me there isn’t.” He takes a step towards you. “Admit it”

“You said you have a lot of things to say. You’ve technically only said two things: that you think I wanted to kiss you and that you think I like you.” He shakes his head and laughs, then takes a couple of steps forward. Looking down at you, he places a hand on your hip.

“I also think that you’re not denying what I’m saying because you don’t want to. You know deep down that what I’m saying is true, about the kiss and your feelings.” His touch makes you tense slightly. You swallow as you look him in the eyes.

“Is that right?” He stares at you with a serious expression.

“Yes. It’s exactly right." He searches for any sign you’re giving. “Do you deny that you have feelings for me?” The silence between you felt like there was no air left in the room, and your chest felt tight.

“I don’t deny it, but we can’t do this.” Your voice is quiet; you could see the subtle change in Fernando’s expression. He was shocked that you had just admitted it. He thought about what the media might say, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Maybe we shouldn't, but you know as well as I do that we want to.”

“Just because we want to doesn’t mean we should.” You try to make it easy on both of you. His hand moves from your hip to your face, gently cupping your cheek, and his thumb lightly brushes over your skin.

“I know, but...” He found himself unable to explain how strongly he felt about you. When he doesn’t continue to talk, you decide to start.

“Look, I’m glad the truth is out, that we don’t have to keep secrets, but this relationship will never go further than the words we just said to each other.” Both of you felt something ache at your words. His thumb stopped moving, and he lowered his hand. He slowly nodded, a sadness you had never seen sketched onto his face, and you imagine you looked pretty similar.

“I understand.” He didn’t like it, but he didn’t want to force you away because he was too persistent. You wrap your arms around him and kiss him on the cheek.

“Goodnight Fernando” He wraps his arms around you, and his eyes close for a few moments. He rested his face against your neck.

"Goodnight, Princesa” He reluctantly let go and walked out of your room. As the door closes, you let out a deep exhale, and you sit down on your bed, staring straight ahead. A tear slips down your cheek before you wipe it away. When he gets into his room, he gets into bed and stares at the ceiling. He rolls onto his side, forcing himself to close his eyes and try to get some sleep.

The rest of the weekend feels awkward, like you both don’t know where you stand with each other anymore. There are only three races to go; the end of the season will probably do you both some good. The next two races were a little bit easier, and there was slightly less tension between you.

Like a lot of others, a small group of you and your friends decided to go out to celebrate the end of the season. It was a large club, and there were personnel from every team in any direction you looked. You headed to the bar to get another drink when you saw Fernando, also standing at the bar. He had already had a few drinks, but he knew how to handle them.

“Nando” you say in an excitable tone, your voice louder than usual due to the loud music and the alcohol. He filches then turns his head, a smile breaking across his face at the sight of you.

“Princesa?”

You smile widely at him. “I like it when you call me that.”

“Do you now?” He asks. He knew he was a bit drunk and probably shouldn’t be talking to you, but he couldn’t really care. The tension, his desire for you, and the drinks were making it hard to think straight. You nod at him. “And how many drinks has it taken for you to say that?”

“Only a couple.” You giggle and wave your hand.

“So only a couple more for me to make you say some other things?” Your giggling makes him smile. The longer he looked at you, the harder it was for him to keep his mouth shut.

“Oh Shhh” You put your hand on his cheek, lightly pushing, and he moved his head to where you pushed it. He gently grabs your hand, bringing it off of his face, He continues to hold it.

“Make me, Princesa”

“I should go back to my friends.” You look over to see where they are. He pulls you closer with the hand he’s already holding. He didn’t want you to leave; he wanted to spend his evening with you.

“Stay! They won’t miss you for a few more minutes." You look down and speak just loud enough for him to understand.

“I’ll end up doing something I regret.” Your eyes meet his. You see his adams apple bob as he swallows. This was a dangerous game for him to keep going. He let go of your hand, placing his under your chin to keep your eyes on him.

“Well, I want you to. Just for tonight.” This time my hand reached for you; I held your wrist.

“But it would change this." You gesture between the two of you. He knew you were right, but he had been craving you since that kiss.

“Maybe it’s time for a change then.” You stare at him, not knowing what to say. Fernando hesitates for a second before giving into temptation. He leans forward, pressing his lips against yours in a deep, intense kiss. A drunk George Russell comes over and slaps a hand down onto Fernando’s shoulder, making the two of you break apart.

“Easy, Mate. I don’t think she’s going anywhere.” Fernando looks over at George, almost glaring at him.

“Can I help you?” George holds his hands up in defence and moves over to the bar to order some drinks. Fernando sighs while looking at George wandering to the bar, shaking his head as he looks back at you. “Do you want to get out of here? Go back to the hotel where we won’t be interrupted,” he suggests. You look at him, contemplating if you should or shouldn't, and he knows what you’re thinking. He steps closer. “You know that neither of us is going to be satisfied going back to our own rooms.”

You nod “Okay.” He held out his hand, and as soon as you took it, he led you out of the club and into the backseat. The drive was short, but it felt like forever. The tension was almost unbearable in the close quarters of the car. His hand rested on your thigh. When the car stopped, you both got out and headed to the elevator, where your hands were on each other again. His lips on your neck were pressing soft kisses, causing a soft gasp from you. His hands tightened on your hips.

“What happened to being worried that it would change things, Princesa?” You tell him to shut up, and he lightly nips at your neck. If it wasn’t for the ding of the elevator, he would’ve left a few hickeys. The two of you rush to his room, and as soon as the door is open, he pulls you inside and immediately captures your lips with his. He pushed you against the door, and his hands grasped at your hips. One of your hands came up to his bicep and the other to the back of his neck. You both kick off your shoes, trying not to stumble.

“Bedroom. Go to the bedroom.” He says against your lips, and you nod. He grabs your hand again, pulling you further into his apartment, into the bedroom. He pulls you in for another kiss as his hands find the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down. I slip the straps off my shoulders and allow them to fall to the floor; you are now just standing in lingerie. He pulls back, and his eyes move down your body, over the lacy garments. “…so beautiful”

You undo the buttons on his shirt and push it off his shoulders, letting it ball on the floor. Your hands run down his chest and stomach to his pants, and you feel his muscles constrict under your touch. You kneel down and fiddle with his button and zip before sliding his pants down, already seeing how achingly hard he is. He cups your jaw, his thumb tenderly stroking your cheek. You look up at him with a soft smile. His thumb gently brushes your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly.

Your hands slide up his thighs and you wrap your fingers around the waistband. “Can I?” When he tells you you can pull them down, his hand moves to your hair. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, and you lick the tip lightly, up, then down, and again. You let saliva gather in your mouth and let it drip down his cock before you begin to move your hand. Finally, you put your lips around him, sucking just the head. Hearing his breathing pick up slightly caused your thighs to press together. As you slowly take him deeper, adjusting to his size, his fingers brush through your hair, and he tells you how good you are.

When you work your way down to taking his whole cock, your hand moves from his shaft to his balls. The small groan of pleasure that comes from him makes you softly moan. The way you choke on his cock turns him on even more, and his hips start to rhythmically buck forward. You place your spare hand on his thigh and apply some pressure, trying to soften the blow of his thrusts. You can feel the spit that slowly rolls down your chin and the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes. “You’re so perfect." His compliment makes you hollow your cheeks further; he can’t take that for long before his grip tightens, and he pulls you off him. “Gotta stop, or this could be over before it starts.”

His cheeks are slightly flushed, and you can’t help but smirk at him as he stares down at you. “Up. I want you on the bed now” You obey and get up, walk to the bed, and sit on the edge. He follows and kneels in front of you, his hands running over your stomach and up your sides before reaching to unclasp your bra. He tosses it behind him with the other discarded clothes. His hands then come up your thighs and to your hips, grabbing your panties. You lift your lips so he can easily get them off, spread your legs, and kiss along your thighs, taking his time. As he gets higher, he leaves a couple hickies behind.

His tongue finally licks up your pussy, agonisingly slow, a few times over. The initial feeling is enough for you to close your legs around his head; the feeling of his stubble causes your eyelids to flutter before they are forced apart again by his hands. He speeds up only slightly, keeping you wanting for more. His tongue makes broader strokes, again stopping before your clit. You grab onto his hair. "Please.” You know that he knows what you want when he gently sucks on it. Your legs try to close once again, but he doesn’t let them. If his own ego wasn’t enough, you knew that the sounds coming from your mouth were enough to let him know that he was good.

Between him eating you out and his fingers slowly gliding across your sensitive thighs, you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. The way your fingers tighten in his hair and your thighs tense under his touch, he knows that you're about to cum. He starts going slightly faster, and when you sharply inhale and he knows that you’re enjoying it, he keeps going steadily at that speed. It doesn’t take much longer until your head rolls back and you’re moaning his name as you finish. He doesn’t move, working you through your orgasm, until eventually he pulls back. The way he looked up at you and the sheen of wetness around his mouth made you bashful.

He kisses your stomach. “Do you want me to keep going?” He asks, and you slowly nod and say, Please. The grin that appeared on his face made you giggle “Lay back then. Let me take care of you.” He murmured, and you did as he asked, then his head lowered, and his mouth went back to your pussy. One of his fingers then pushes into you before he fully removes it, making you buck your hips and want it again. You start to play with your tits, rolling your nipples between your fingers. He re-enters you, and he does this a few times before adding another one. God, you can tell he has experience with the way he uses his fingers and tongue.

Seeing you like this encouraged him to work harder. Your body reacts as his tongue and fingers move faster and harder. You stop everything to sit up, one of your hands supporting you and the other back into his hair. You can’t help but moan at the sight in front of you. He glances up at you for a small moment when he feels you move. You feel him smile as he sees the look of pleasure on your face. He could feel as the tension built up again by the way your hips were rocking against him. “I’m gonna” You moan "Please." He didn’t stop and looked back up at you. He couldn’t believe how perfect you looked as you arched your back and your legs shook. He gently pulls his fingers away from you and places one last kiss against your clit, with a self-satisfied grin on his face.

“All good, Princesa?” You nod quickly.

“Uh huh” your jaw slightly slack as you tried to breathe normally. His hands run gently over your hips.

“I would ask if you’re ready for more, but I think I already know the answer from that reaction.” He stands up and tells you to go further back and lay your head on the pillows, which you quickly comply with. He moved onto the bed and got on top of you with his hands on either side of your head, holding himself up.

“Please”

“Please what?” He asks, his lips just an inch from yours.

“Fuck me” He leant down and captured your lips in a hungry kiss, his body pressing against yours as he deepened the kiss. He pulls back, lightly biting your bottom lip.

“With pleasure.” He wastes no time in reaching down to push his cock into you, inch by inch. He rolls his hips slowly while looking into your eyes, making sure you’re okay. One of his hands cradles the side of your head, his thumb caressing over your cheek. You both savoured the moment; the feeling was euphoric. You had both wanted this for a while, and it was better than you thought it would be. You wrap one of your legs around his waist as he thrusts harder, still at a sensual pace. You keep fucking like that for a few minutes, the intimacy of it turning you on even more, but you crave more.

“Faster” you mumble against his lips. “Please” Both his hands grab your waist, using it as leverage as he gradually speeds up. You grab a handful of the bedding beneath you and tilt your head back. You don’t even try to silence the noises from your mouth; mixed with the grunts and praise from Fernando, it was pushing you to the edge. One of your hands moves to his back, digging your nails into his skin. “I need to cum” you whine.

“Ask me nicely." He grabs your jaw, so you look at him. Your walls flutter around him as he speaks in a dominant tone.

“Please! Can I please cum?”

“Good girl” He roughly kisses you. “Go ahead. I’m right behind you." Your orgasm crashes over you. Your nails dig deeper into him and the quilt, your heel presses into his lower back as your legs tremble, and you feel your muscles all over tighten. Fernando automatically empties himself inside of you, his hips stuttering. The pleasure is overwhelming for both of you as you ride out your orgasms. He rests his forehead against your shoulder, his breath heavy. He gently rolls you two onto your sides; he wraps an arm around you, pulling you as close as you could be. Once you lay around for a while, he gets you up, and you share a quick but pleasant shower. He throws the quilt off the bed and grabs the spare one from the closet. You climb into bed under the clean sheets. He held you close, and your bodies were tangled together.

In the morning Fernando wakes up first, and the sunlight slips past the curtains and into the bedroom. He slowly sat up, and a groan left his lips as he stretched. He looks over at you, still peacefully sleeping, and can’t help but smile. He presses a kiss on your shoulder before quietly getting up from the bed. It doesn’t take you long to wake up. You’re confused by the empty bed but realise why it was like that when you smell fresh coffee. You get up and wander to the doorway, watching him as he pours himself some. “Morning” You say softly to not scare him.

He turned around and took in the sight of you wearing his shirt, your hair slightly messy. “Morning, Did you sleep well?” You let out a small yawn as you nodded. “Coffee?” He takes a sip of his own.

“Please” He grabs another mug for the cupboard.

“Sit” he says as he pours one for you. You sit down, and stare off in the distance, and he glances over at you. He sets your mug down in front of you and sits on the stool next to you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah” He puts a hand on your knee, squeezing reassuringly.

“What’s on your mind? Are you regretting last night?”

You shrug “Don’t get me wrong, last night was amazing, but I told myself that it would never happen.” He raised an eyebrow at the vague response and asked why. “Because I feel the exact way I thought I was going to.” His head tilts, still confused by your words.

“And what way is that?”

“Like I want more of you." It comes out as a mumble, but he hears it, and his facial expression softens. He gently grasps your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.

“What’s the problem with that?”

“I don’t think us dating is a great idea, and I don’t really want to be fuck buddies, so nothing can really happen between us.” Part of him agrees with you, but the other half of him, that wanted more, wouldn’t allow that.

“Is that what you want? For us to be nothing?” He hopes that you don’t just lash out at him or ignore him.

“No! God, I-“ you fall silent. “Not really.” He could see the conflicted look etched into your expression.

“Then what do you want?” His eyes were looking deeply into yours. “Tell me what you really, fully want.”

“I want to date you. I want to hold hands and go on dates, have more amazing sex, be there to comfort you after a shit race and kiss you whenever I want to.” You ramble, sucking in a breath after that confession.

“Then let’s do it. Let’s try dating and see how it goes. We have a few months to see if it will work." He obviously means over the break before a new season starts.

“Fernando…” Before you get the chance to say anything else, he cuts in.

“What? You said you wanted us to date. Why think about the reasons we shouldn’t?” He coaxes, “Let’s try. If it works, it works, and if it doesn't, then at least we tried.”

“Will you get me another job if it doesn’t work out well?” You ask, half joking. He lets out an amused laugh.

“Of course I would, so... Now will you give us a chance?” You tell yourself to just live a little. What if these feelings are what true love feels like. You nod.

“Okay, yes” He reached over and pulled you in for a kiss. “I really hate to ruin this, but my flight back home is at midday.” His mood drops slightly.

“Do you have to go? Can’t you stay another day?”

“It’s paid for by the team; I can’t just skip it. Then I would have to pay for my own flight, especially with it being for only one extra day, I don’t know.” You try to let him down slowly. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, so we’d have a day and a half together." His hand caresses over your thigh.

“Where are you going?” You tried to change the topic.

“Spain, for about 2 weeks, just visiting family and friends." That grin he gets when he has an idea appears, and before you can ask what, “Do you want to come with me?” Your jaw falls open slightly.

“I mean, it sounds nice…” The grin becomes bigger as you hesitate. His fingers inch up your thighs.

“But? Is there a but?” He asks, wanting to know what’s holding you back. You shake your head after thinking about it for a moment.

“No. Let’s do it." Going to Spain with your new boyfriend was there ever really a chance that you’d deny him?

“That’s what I like to hear. We’ll fly out this afternoon.”

“This afternoon? You said you were going tomorrow?”

“Lucky for us, I have a private jet and can change the date of my travel plans. I’ll just make a call or two; we can pack, then we’ll go.”

“Alright, go on. Make sure we can actually leave.” He stands up and presses a chaste kiss on your forehead before he walks off to the bedroom to get his phone. You sip your coffee, waiting for him to come back. When he does, he has a smirk on his face.

“All set. Go pack, pretty girl.”

#Fernando Alonso Smut #Fernando Alonso fic #Fernando Alonso x Reader #F1 smut #f1 fic #f1 x reader

[perfectlyoongi]

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JIN who likes to cook with you, not minding spending delicious moments creating something as good, as tender, as your laughs. he melted into your cooking, admiring the way you moved skilfully, smiling at your every comment, eager to taste what you two made together. “i know dinner today is simple, but i want you to know that i will forever remember the moment we just shared cooking.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JIN who always tries to make you laugh, just to hear you laugh, just to feel important for making you happy. several jokes were stuck on the tip of Jin's tongue, eager to be revealed to cover you with pure excitement and beautify your already divine features. “there is no sound more beautiful and melodious than your laughter, it is obvious that i will try to make you laugh whenever i can.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JIN who leaves his cell phone on at night in case you have a nightmare and need him. Jin wouldn't mind a sleepless night if it meant he would be talking to you, making sure you felt okay, calming your heart and mind and reassuring you that he would always be there for you. “don’t hesitate to call me, seriously. i'd rather lose hours of sleep than know that you needed me and i wasn't there to help you.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JIN who started using and abusing the words i love you when he realized what was in his heart. even though he believed that what you felt for him was completely platonic, Jin didn't mind confessing his love for you, even though you believed that his words were purely platonic. "i love you. a lot. more than you can imagine. more than i thought i could feel. you make me adore you. simply that.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JIN who likes to game alongside you, talking to you while his attention alternates between your addictive words and the mesmerizing game. Jin often didn't even realize what was happening on the screen, he could only hear you, he could only focus on your delicate voice and your contagious laugh. “don’t worry, i can play later. i can’t get back the time i would have liked to have spent with you.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JIN who would spend hours on end looking for the perfect movie to watch with you, always looking for something that would make you feel more serene. with each title that passed through Jin's eyes, he just wondered if the movie was good for you, if you would have a good time with him, if you would lean against him and snuggle in Jin's arms. “this is a different, calmer movie. maybe you want to lie down on my lap and relax for a moment? maybe?”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JIN who confessed to you on a normal afternoon in the middle of a random conversation, just because the sun painted you with certain golden tones and the breeze carried your intoxicating perfume with it. it was like a spell, something unforeseen that even caught Jin himself by surprise — but he didn't deny his words, Jin just smiled. “i like you. i like you like you're supposed to like your soulmate. and honestly, that’s what i think you are to me — my soulmate.”

#ship of bts 𐙚₊‧₊˚ #seokjin #bts #jin #btsarmy #bangtansonyeondan #army #bangtanboys #bangtan #jin x reader #jin x you #jin fluff #bts jin #bts x reader #jin fanfic #jin oneshot #jin scnearios #bts fanfic #jin fic #jin fic recs #jin imagines #bts fic #bts rec #seokjin x reader #seokjin oneshot #seokjin fluff

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 16!!!

My friends! I have heard your cries! You are worried about Muriel and yearn to know what has become of them! Rest assured, they are in this installment.

Let's do this.

Beginning || Previous || Next

*****************************************

After a moment of commiserative silence, Sardis gets up to go to the bar for another round of drinks. He says sometimes magic just isn’t as good as a properly mixed drink, and leaves. You’ve barely had a sip of your fishbowl.

Jesus is a 13 year-old boy who is white and rich and lives in Los Angeles with his rich parents. The world is doomed.

Your brain is still simmering in the sauce of despair when Anathema suddenly leans in close, pushing glasses to the side as she does. She gets as close to the middle of the table as she can, and you look her up and down because you’re pretty sure the table is sticky (and you’re too scared of the answer to wonder why).

“Okay, listen,” she says urgently, “I need to tell you before Sardis gets back. I got a call from Newt. Muriel’s missing.”

Whatever you were expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. You feel like you’ve suddenly been dropped into ice water. Muriel’s….missing.

“Missing how exactly?” asks Crowley.

“Like missing missing,” Anathema says. How is it that something so vague can clarify her meaning so well? “They went to see a movie, and Muriel just disappeared. He hasn’t been able to find them anywhere.” You don’t have the words to speak yet, but the expression you turn towards Anathema seems to be enough for her. “Listen,” she says to you, “They had every reason to think that it would be okay. The Metatron was after us, remember? He wants us.” You turn your eyes back to the table, wishing that Anathema hadn’t moved your drink away. You could really use something to hold on to right now.

“Right,” Aziraphale begins in a take-charge kind of way, “Tell him that there’s a summoning circle on the floor in my bookshop--”

“-- He tried that already. He says he just got voicemail, and...uh...dial-up.” You’re not looking but you can feel Anathema’s expression without seeing it. Who in the universe still uses dial-up??

“Oh,” Aziraphale sounds deflated.

“Maybe they just popped out to the shop?” Crowley suggests. The question sounds ridiculous and even sarcastic, but what he means is maybe they’re okay and not actually in any trouble at all, and maybe they’ll come back safe and sound and everyone will have a good laugh about it later.

“I mean, it’s possible,” Anathema answers, apparently also understanding what Crowley meant, “But honestly, I don’t think it’s likely.”

“Well regardless,” says Aziraphale, “I highly doubt the Metatron would do anything to harm Muriel. Heaven doesn’t work that way, least of all him.”

“No,” agrees Crowley, “They usually outsource that sort of thing to Hell. Might be able to twist an arm and find out if they...ah...mmm…know anything.” You haven’t looked up yet, but you’re pretty sure Crowley noticed that you haven’t said anything halfway through that suggestion.

Muriel is missing. Your friend. Your wholesome, lovely friend, who came to earth dressed like a lighthouse and who you persuaded to adopt argyle. Your friend who spun around to music with you even though they don’t dance. Your friend who watched the first time you had to calm yourself down from a panic attack and gave you a button to help you with the next one. It’s still in your pocket, you remember. You pull it out and stare at it in your palm. A good large-but-not-too-large plain green button. A good thing to fiddle with whenever you’re anxious. Suddenly you feel tears around your eyes, and maybe it’s the alcohol, but you can’t exactly fight them back. The most you can do is keep yourself from sobbing with worry. Everyone else is still discussing what to do.

“Listen,” Anathema is saying, “I know it’s hard, but we can’t stop saving the world to go back and look for them. The Metatron could be using Muriel as bait for all we know, and we’d be playing right into his hands.”

“Well surely we can’t just leave poor Muriel either,” Aziraphale replies.

“No,” Anathema responds, “I suggested he call Adam. If anyone can help him, Adam can.”

“Do you think” You finally say, “that Muriel knows? That they know we’re coming to find them?”

“I don’t know,” Anathema sighs, “I like to think that they know us well enough to have hope. Wherever they are.”

“Perhaps we could send them a message,” Aziraphale suggests.

“Mmnn,” Crowley seems to agree, “We need to make sure it’s something the Metatron wouldn’t pick up on. Like a secret code or something.”

The three of them start to discuss what kind of message or code you could all send Muriel. Meanwhile, the only thing you find yourself able to do is fidget with the button. The debate has gotten the other three nowhere when a lightbulb goes off. The button.

In dramatic fashion that only Crowley could match, you slam the button on the table. Everyone stops their discussion to watch as you grab the miracle enabler out of your pocket and tear off the number 2 with your teeth. As you spit it to the side, you watch and notice that it stays gone. The miracle went through. Anathema blinks.

“Okay,” she starts, “First of all, I get that you’re upset and that’s perfectly reasonable. But this stuff is important so next time can we please forgo the dramatics and discuss with the group first?”

“Sorry,” You say, even though you’re not.

“What message did you send them?” Crowley asks. In response, you hold up the button.

“You see this? Muriel gave this to me before we left. To help me with my panic attacks. As...as comfort.”

“Okay...” Crowley says. You see Anathema and Aziraphale exchange a look.

“So I sent them an exact copy,” You finish.

“That’s rather clever,” Aziraphale sounds impressed.

“Yeah, not bad.” Anathema agrees. “But next time please tell us first.” You nod in agreement and take a sip of your drink just as Sardis returns with more for everyone else.

Hang tight Muriel, you think to yourself, or Muriel if they can somehow hear you, We’ll find you. We won’t leave you on your own.

********************

Muriel scrivened away at their desk. It was hard to come back to scrivening after having such a lovely time on Earth, but they had been told it was an emergency and that they would be able to come back later once everything had been sorted out. Muriel hadn’t realized that what they’d meant was paperwork. They looked around their office and sighed. Every square foot of it was covered with teetering towers of file folders, leaving no way to see anything else. Not that there was anything else to see ever, it was Heaven after all. They had so much to catch up on.

“How are you doing in here, Muriel?” came a voice from among the towers of folders. Muriel jumped in surprise.

“Oh! Ah, I’m doing alright Metatron,” they answered, “It’s a lot to get through, but I’m starting to make some headway I think!”

“That’s excellent!” The Metatron replied. He wound his way through the stacks until he could see Muriel’s face. He smiled kindly. “I really am so grateful that you were able to return and lend us your help. As you can see, things have gotten a little out of hand in your absence.”

“Yes,” Muriel said, “Of course, Metatron! I didn’t realize that I was leaving everyone with so much. Please pass along my apologies to them.” The Metatron nodded with a thoughtful hum.

“It is the nature of our work, Muriel,” he said, “That we do now know or understand our own importance or place in the workings of things while we are doing them. It is not for us to know, after all! But when someone strays from their role, when they leave for a time and their absence is felt, then we often find out just how vital we are. Not one of us is a ‘nobody,’ we are all incredibly important in the workings of God.”

Muriel nodded. “Yes, Metatron, of course!”

“Ah Muriel,” Metatron said fondly, “You are a most diligent and dedicated soul. Be well assured that the Almighty knows just how grateful we are for you and your continued contributions.”

“Oh! The Almighty?! Really?? Wow! Thank you Metatron!” Muriel sat in awe. They had always thought that they were nobody really. But this whole time they had been so important that even God knew! Muriel looked around at the endless towers of files with new inspiration and purpose. If God knew that they were valuable, then they must do their very best to live up to it! “Don’t worry, Metatron, I’ll get all this sorted out!”

Only…

“I have utmost faith in your abilities, my dear,” Metatron began, “And yet I do sense a small seed of doubt. Is it perhaps something I can help you with?”

Muriel nearly jumped again. Could he read minds? How had he known?

“It’s nothing really,” Muriel said sheepishly, “It’s only...I wish I could have said goodbye. Newt must have been so worried for me to just leave so suddenly. My friends might all be very worried about me.”

“Well why would they be worried?” The Metatron asked jovially, “You’ve come back home! You’re much safer and happier in Heaven than you could be anywhere on Earth.” He looked at Muriel’s unconvinced expression, and relented to a thoughtful smile. “Although I suppose we could send them a message for you. Let them know that you are perfectly alright, and have returned at our request to save us from all of this,” he waved his hands to gesture at the mountains of paperwork. Muriel brightened.

“Oh that would be wonderful! Very kind of you, really Metatron. Thank you ever so much.”

“My pleasure, my dear Muriel,” Metatron cooed, “I shall be back to check on you later, shall I?”

With that, he left and closed the door.

“Ah! Metatron!” Saraquel called to him, speeding over, “Your Grace,” she nodded her head in deference, “Is there anything you would like for the Scriveners to...well...scriven? All of our paperwork has been redirected elsewhere and now I have scores of angels with nothing to do.”

“There is always something to do, Saraquel,” the Metatron smiled kindly, “I have the utmost faith in your abilities to lead. As always.” And he left.

Back inside the office, Muriel was beginning to feel much less...enthused. Now that Metatron was gone, the fatigue of tedious work was returning. There was just so much to do. And to think they had left all the other scriveners with all of this. They felt terrible for that. This was…horrible. This was...just so overwhelming. Muriel took a selfish moment to drop their head into their arms. This felt endless. For a short time, Muriel focused on breathing, before a small clatter made them look up. There was a green button on their desk. Carefully, Muriel poked at it. It was definitely a material object. How strange! They picked it up and examined it for a moment before recognition hit them. Oh! They knew what this was! They had given a button just like this to their new friend! The one that God had sent to help save the world with Aziraphale and Mr. Crowley! A smile of relief spread across Muriel’s face, and despite themselves they hugged the button close like it was the most precious thing in all of Heaven. Thank God. The Metatron had sent them a message, and now they knew everything was alright. For a minute there, Muriel had been worried that he wouldn’t.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #aziracrow lasts forever #aziraphale x crowley #good omens fandom #ineffable fandom #muriel #anathema device #anathema #metatron #good omens 3 #good omens season 3 #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #fanatic intervention #part 16 #fanfiction #fanfic #sardis #the angel of sardis #we're all in this together #let's write #poll fic #come play with us #muriel and the green button #heaven is nothing but paperwork

[thelittlelostgraycat]

✩ 

                          HOW I PERCEIVE JEAN-YVES MOREAU ID CARD :

› he/him, afab › disaster bi › french-lebanese › INFJ › cptsd - generalised anxiety - depression › Hard of hearing after too many blows to the head › scorpio sun, virgo moon, gemini rising THE AESTHETIC :

HEADCANONS :

› Grey eyes, pale skin and freckles for days. › Power house on the court he's actually very clumsy in real life. Always sporting bruised on his legs and arms. › Very anxious, he is often curled up on himself, afraid to take up space.  › He can’t sleep in the dark, he uses a vintage lava lamp as his night light. › Very soft voice, slighty scratchy.  › He never learned arabic as a child and still struggle with the language. › Slut for silver jewelry, he buys Kevin matching one in gold. He likes when it glows on kevin's chest.

✩ 

                          HOW I PERCEIVE CAOIMHÍN LIAM DAY. ID CARD :

› he/him › bisexual & demi › irish-american › ISTP › separation anxiety - panic disorder - addiction - chronic pain › Recovering alcoholic › leo sun, capricorn moon, libra rising THE AESTHETIC :

HEADCANONS :

› Green eyes, golden skin and vitiligo. › Riko made him change his name to Kevin because it was easier to read and pronounce. › Absolute moron in real life, doesn't really know how to function and will call his dad at least twice a day asking for help on the most basic things. › Doesn't know when to stop yapping. › His fascination for history and his love for exy come from the 'tism. › Caring in his own way, his love language is gift giving. › Covered in tattoos. ( a fox for the PSU team, flames on one of his arm like his dad, a claddagh for his mom, patroclus helmet for Jean..) › Doesn't like jewelry, he still wears the one Jean's got him.

✩ 

                          THE KEVJEAN HEADCANONS › It was hard for Kevin to assume his sexuality. *** TW RAPE -The reason behind it is because Jean was looking at him in the changing room, Riko being Riko didn't like it one bit and handcuffed Kevin to the bed so he could watch Jean being assaulted. From that moment on, it was easier to be straight. *** › It took a long time for them to talk again but now ? They will talk on the phone, send texts, pictures throughout the day, a proof of life and freedom. › They got together after they ended-up on the same pro team. › When they fight, Jean will take off his hearing aids. It pisses off Kevin so much. › Codependent as fuck, they had to learn how to be separated. They still act like the shining twins, move in tandem and finish each other sentences. › Jean dating Kevin's crush while he was in USC made him lose his damn mind. › Jean cannot sleep without hearing Kevin's snores, he sneakily recorded him one time so he could play it when he's alone. › Both of them have a service dog, they also adopted a cat and saved a snake from a bad owner. › They speak in a mix of french and english. › Mo ghrá is Jean sweet nickname. › Veen or habibi are used on Kevin. › They both loath the cold and the heat, winter and summer is hell for the both of them. › Not a single sweet tooth in sight, their house is a nightmare for Andrew. › Jean is soft spoken and calm most of the time, he is actually the calm before the storm. Pissing him off is always a bad idea. While Kevin is quick to anger and even quicker to calm down. › Every year they take a two weeks vacation to visit a new city or a new country.

#jean moreau #kevin day #kevjean #aftg #aftg hc #tsc hc #all for the game #the sunshine court #my headcanons #i had to get this off my chest #and i still have so much things written about them #they're my roman empire your honor

[h-haunted]

magic kisses

my hero academia

neito monoma x reader

gender neutral

sfw

haven’t touched mha in like three years but my best friend shared this with me so obviously i had to do it!

~

You were no stranger to the nurse’s office at UA. Being in class 1A was no walk in the park. You were stuck with the best young heroes of your generation- plus that one green-haired kid who won’t stop attracting villains' attention- and it was certainly a challenge.

Cradling your freshly broken arm and dragging your feet, you slowly made your way to Recovery Girl’s office. A heavy sigh slipped past your lips, illustrating your exhaustion. You had been paired up with Katsuki for training. Long story short, he didn’t even pretend to go easy on you. No surprise there, he was far too competitive for that.

You practically stumbled into the room, your legs feeling like jello underneath your weight. You couldn’t even mumble a greeting before you collapsed down into a chair.

“My my, what happened to you?”

You knew that voice.

Despite your fatigue, your eyes snapped open.

Neito Monoma, asshole of class 1B. You two had been at each other’s throats ever since you met.

Sensing your annoyance before you even opened your mouth, Neito laughed and poked your forehead. “Don’t look so happy to see me.”

“Where’s recovery girl?” You manage to ask, raising your eyebrow.

“She had to step out for a while, I’m here to take her place while she’s gone. Just had to copy her quirk,” the blonde shrugs, leaning back against the wall, “Not the most ideal situation, but whatever. I’m the right guy for the job and I figured I’d do something nice for once. C’mon, let me see your arm.”

You immediately turn away from him, pulling your arm back. You wince as you do so, the pain practically shooting up your spine. Neito covers his mouth and tries his hardest not to laugh, earning himself a sharp glare from you. “If you just let me do it, it’ll stop hurting.”

“No thanks, I’d rather die.”

“Hey, if you insist. I won’t complain.”

“Asshole.”

“What? You said it first, not me. That’ll take forever to heal, and Recovery Girl won’t be very happy that you refused help.”

After a moment of hesitation, you hold out your mangled forearm. “Yikes, you got your ass kicked, huh? Thought you 1A idiots were supposed to be strong.” Neito quips. You shoot him a glare, and he laughs. “Alright, alright. Calm down, feisty.” He gently places his hand on your wrist and leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your skin. The butterflies that flutter through your stomach startle you, your cheeks heating up at the contact. You can feel your bone beginning to fuse back together as he backs away, watching your reaction. After a few seconds, you flex your arm and move it around. Good as new. Huh.

“Hm? You seem a little red. Coming down with a fever, are we?” He teases, savoring the way you avert your gaze and mumble ‘shut up’. He runs the tips of his fingers down your freshly healed forearm and it feels like lightning.

You rip your arm away, shooting him yet another glare. He flicks your forehead, rolling his eyes. “Your face will be stuck like that if you don’t stop.”

“And if you don’t stop rolling your eyes, they might get stuck in the back of your head.” You retort through a small yawn, covering your mouth with your hand. Neito looked at you, his eyebrow raised.

“Hm. Someone’s tired.”

“Shut up.”

“What? I just pointed it out. Side effect of the quirk.” Neito laughed, his voice as smooth as honey. “I can’t send you back to class like that. Just relax, you can take a nap here if you need to.”

“That’s oddly nice of you-”

“No promises I won’t draw on your face while you’re out though.”

“There it is.” You roll your eyes, leaning back against the wall. Neito grabs a pillow and offers it to you. “I’m not going to take a nap.”

“You don’t have to. Just get comfortable.” Neito rolled his eyes in return, sitting down next to you. You hesitantly grabbed the pillow, placing it behind your head. It wasn’t any more comfortable than just leaning against the wall, but you were too exhausted to complain.

“Seriously though. I’ll stay here with you if you want to take a nap.” He hums. You open your mouth to protest, but it’s cut off by yet another yawn. Okay, maybe that nap wasn’t a bad idea.

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is that your head is resting on something- or rather, someone. It’s Neito’s shoulder. You shoot up, startling him.

“Woah, hey, what’s the matter???” He asks in pure confusion, looking at you now. You wince, very quickly realizing that there must’ve been a cut or something on your face because holy fuck it stings after resting on it. He notices your momentary discomfort, and it causes him to frown. It’s a burn, from Katsuki’s quirk.

“I can… heal that too.” Neito mumbles. It’s not anything terrible, it would heal on its own with no scarring. Your breath catches in your throat at the thought, but it doesn’t take you very long to nod. He leans forward and plants his lips on your cheek, letting them linger for a moment. The familiar tingly sensation bubbles up beneath your skin, the subtle ache from the injury fading away.

“What… time is it?” You ask, trying to quickly change the subject.

“Three. You were only out for like an hour.”

“Oh…” You look away. You suddenly remember his earlier threat and pull out your phone, using the selfie camera to examine your skin. He didn’t draw on your face after all.

“Oh come on.” Neito can’t help but laugh at how worried you were about it. “I told you I wasn’t going to do it.”

“Give me one good reason why I should trust you.”

“...Because I wouldn’t ruin such a pretty face with marker.” He winks, and you feel your face heating up again. “What? I just fixed your face.” He reaches out to brush his fingertips across your cheek. “Any other injuries I should take care of?” He jokes with a teasing smirk.

“Oh. Well...I think I… uh… split my lip.” You mumble before you can stop yourself. He looks momentarily flustered and his eyes meet yours for a moment before they flicker down to your soft lips. You open your mouth to speak. Apologize, take back what you said because oh my god that was cringe.

Then his mouth is on yours, kissing you with a gentle passion as his hands find your cheeks.

#monoma neito #neitomonoma #mha neito #neito x reader #bnha monoma #mha monoma #monoma x reader #my hero academia #my hero x reader #my hero academia x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #mha x reader

[mallowsweetmiri]

Song for Regulus

Based of Song for Isabelle by Pierce the Veil 🩸

“I’m guiding your chin to my lips, using only my fingertips”

——————————————————

James knew he would be here tonight, if not to see Pandora, then for an excuse to drink. He scanned the room for black curls as Sirius and Remus rushed ahead into the Ravenclaw common room to grab a bottle of Firewhisky. All James saw was a sea of Hogwarts students getting plastered before going home Christmas.

“Com’ere, Prongs! Shots!” Sirius bellowed over the music, holding the bottle up with a mischievous grin. James let out a breath and smiled, stalking over to his friends. The three of them towered over most of the crowd, their friends already finding and joining them in a crowding circle.

“Cheers mates,” James said, raising his glass to his group of friends before promptly downing it. The night was beginning to get fun as the lot of them downed their third shot and began dancing. The room wasn’t very well lit, and the cigarette smoke made it hazy for James, who’s vision was already starting to unfocus from the whisky. He was about to reach for his fourth shot when he spotted him up on the balcony with a group of Slytherin boys. Even through the smoke, James could see that Regulus had been drinking heavily that evening. The soft moonlight coming from the ceiling window graced his milky skin, entrapping James with the image. He thought Regulus looked heavenly. Well, James thought he always looked heavenly, but there was something about the hazy lighting and that black shirt and his dark curls that made Regulus look like a fallen angel made to sin for. James watched him as he pulled out a small glass vial out of his shirt, looking smug as he offered it to Barty Crouch. The potion went around the circle before ending up back to Regulus, who gladly brought the vial up to his lips. He threw his head back and downed the rest, a calming heat washing over his body as he threw the vial on the ground. He slumped back into the bookshelves, looking miserable for a moment before the calm of the potion appeared to affect his expression.

“Barty might be a prat but he’s a good friend,” Regulus said, flicking his cigarette over the edge of owlery. James bit the inside of his cheek, watching Regulus as he looked to the stars. How could somebody so beautiful be surrounded by such darkness? James supposed he was like a star himself in that sense, beautiful and burning in the abyss.

“Well, friends are important these days. It’s important to have people who will look out for you,” James said, barely more than a whisper. Regulus turned his head to look at James, his eyes sharp and wary.

“I can look out for myself,” Regulus shook his head, knowing where this was going.

“I know you can, Reg. But I can help you, I can get you out of that house. Just come stay with us for Christmas, please,” James begged quickly, hoping this time he would listen to him.

“James, we’ve talked about this. I can’t do that,” Regulus’ voice was low and warning.

“But I can help you! You don’t have to-“

“Yes I do!” Regulus cut him off, his words sharp and striking, “I do have to! I cannot leave, she will come after me. Sirius made sure of that.”

James sank into the railing, letting out a shaky breath.

“I just can’t stand to have you there, Reg. It’s destroying you, I can see it. I don’t want you to suffer for weeks at her hand,” James sighed, his head leaning back against the post.

“Well if I’m lucky, I won’t make it past the first few days,” Regulus grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning over the rail. James furrowed his brows.

“Don’t say that,” James frowned, eyes gleaned with concern. Regulus just sighed.

“I will be fine, James. Don’t worry about me,” he took a step forward, looking up at James.

“I’d give anything to keep you safe, Reg.” James stepped into Regulus, burying his face into his shoulder. Regulus smiled lightly and wrapped his fingers around the back of his neck, placing a kiss on his temple.

“I know, James. Now let’s stop talking and do what we came here to do.”

James clenched his jaw as he watched Regulus’ head fall back into the book shelf. He couldn’t believe he had the audacity to look that good drugged out.

“Prongs? You okay?” Remus asked, snapping his fingers in front James eyes. James tore his gaze away from Regulus.

“Yeah, I’m going for a piss,” James said brashly, pushing past his friends to get to the side of the room. Maybe it was the alcohol, but James body seemed to move on its own up the stairs towards the balcony. Regulus spotted him immediately, his large frame was pretty hard to miss as he stalked hastily towards the bookshelves.

“I need to talk to Regulus,” James spat from behind the group. Barty and the other boys scoffed at his boldness, but Regulus could tell he was mad. James rarely got riled up, so Regulus was wary of what he could do or say in this state.

“Just give us a minute,” Regulus addressed his friends, nodding his chin up as an order for them to move away. Barty rolled his eyes but led the others towards the next room. James watched them turn the corner before crowding Regulus into the alcove between the shelves.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” James growled, causing Regulus to back into the wall.

“Enjoying the party,” Regulus drawled, crossing his arms in an attempt to steady his body. James clenched his jaw as he scanned Regulus’ body for any sort of emotion.

“Merlin, what is wrong with you? Don’t pretend like you’re not doing this on purpose,” James breathed as he inched closer. Regulus swallowed and feigned confidence as he pushed himself to stand straighter against the wall. James still had a few inches on him.

“I’m not doing anything,” Regulus challenged, his gaze sharpening on James. James scoffed, a sardonic smile spreading across his face.

“Bullshit,” James spat, “You’re not supposed to drink with whats inside that vial and not expect me not to call you out.” Regulus let out a shaky breath. James expression became darker as he stepped forward, placing his fingertips under Regulus’ chin. He tilts his head back, looking down at him.

“You know I can make you feel better than any potion could,” James breathed out, guiding Regulus’ chin to his lips. With James lips on his, the effects of the potion could not compare from the heat coming off of James body. Regulus let his head fall as James fingers snaked around to hold the back of his neck firmly. James used his thigh to push Regulus further back into the wall, maneuvering himself in between his legs. Regulus’ body let out an involuntary groan as James moved to bite the underside of his jaw, leaving evidence of his presence. Regulus was seeing stars as James bit his bottom lip, pulling away and pushing Regulus firm against the wall. He took in the sight of Regulus panting through his swollen lips as he let his thumb run over his throat.

“Next time there’s a party, you better stick to Firewhisky,” James grumbled, “I can’t fuck you when you’re like this.” James used his hand to push Regulus head back into the wall one last time before turning to go back downstairs. Regulus was feeling dizzy and bothered as he watched his golden boy leave him between the bookshelves.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, rubbing his face and pushing himself off the wall to find his friends. Back downstairs, Sirius watched James return from the outskirts of the room.

“Is everything alright, James?” He asked, slurring his words. James gave him a lopsided smile and took the beer from his hands.

“Yeah, I hope so,” he took a swig of his beer as his eyes lingered on the balcony. He watched Regulus return with his friends back to the same spot by bookshelves. He scoffed into the bottle, turning back to face his friends. While Sirius was drunkenly singing with Marlene, Remus’ gaze stayed put on James.

“Something you want to tell me?” Remus questioned, clearly more sober than the rest of the group. Sirius would have James’ head if he knew what he was doing with Regulus, but James didn’t care. He’d made it his personal mission to get Regulus out from Walburga’s grasp. Oh yeah, and to pull all of his clothes off at night.

“I was just checking on a friend. Too much to drink,” James laughed nonchalantly, taking another swig of his drink before joining Remus for his fourth shot. He spent the rest of the night thinking about Regulus panting against his body.

#jegulus #starchaser #star chaser #james potter x regulus black #jegulus microfic #jegulus fanfic #james potter #regulus black #Sirius black #Remus lupin #james maurauders era #maurauders era #maurauders fanfic #maurauders

[odairsangel]

just a friend / r. cameron

warnings: profanity

relationship: protective!rafe x fem!reader

a/n:

wc: 1.0k

“Who the hell was that?” Rafe hissed as he threw you into his room at Tanneyhill.

“No one, just a friend.” You stumble backwards as Rafe let go of your arm, shoving you backwards. “I don’t know why your so mad anyways we’re— we’re exes!”

Rafe jabbed his finger into your face “Doesn’t I don’t worry about you!” He shook his head. “Un—fucking—believable.”

“Alright, look y/n-“ Rafe barked, his chest heaving, “I care for you, you know that? I’m protecting you, from that creep.”

“He was literally staring at you”

You backed up against the wall, your heart pounding as Rafe advanced on you, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and something else, something possessive. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice.

"Rafe, you’re overreacting," you said, trying to keep your tone calm. "He was just a friend, and we were just talking. It’s not a big deal."

Rafe's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. "Not a big deal? He was looking at you like he wanted to devour you. You think I’m just going to stand by and let that happen?" He took another step closer, his presence overwhelming. "I know you think we’re just exes, but that doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you."

You shook your head, trying to keep your thoughts clear. "Rafe, we broke up for a reason. You can’t keep doing this, showing up and trying to control who I see."

He grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. "I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to protect you. There’s a difference." His voice softened slightly, a hint of feigned vulnerability creeping in. "You don’t understand what guys like him are capable of. I do."

You hesitated, his words tugging at something deep inside you. Rafe had always been intense, but he had also been there for you during some of your darkest times. There was a part of you that wanted to believe him, to trust that his anger was born out of genuine concern.

"I just want to make sure you’re safe," he continued, his tone almost pleading now. "Is that so wrong? To care about someone so much that you’d do anything to protect them?"

You looked into his eyes, seeing a flicker of the boy you used to love, the boy who would have moved mountains for you. Maybe, just maybe, he was right. Maybe he was the only one who truly understood how to keep you safe.

"Okay," you whispered, your resolve weakening. "But you have to promise me you’ll stop with the jealousy. We can’t keep doing this."

Rafe nodded, his expression softening. "I promise. I just want what’s best for you. Trust me, okay?"

You sighed, the fight draining out of you. "Alright, Rafe. I trust you."

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he pulled you into a hug. "That’s all I needed to hear," he murmured against your hair. "I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever."

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to believe him, at least for now. After all, Rafe had always been good at making you feel safe, even if it came at a cost. “You know I’ll protect you, yeah?”.

The summer was in full swing, and Tanneyhill buzzed with the usual mix of tourists and locals. You found yourself more entangled in Rafe's world than you had ever intended.

His promises of protection and care had given way to a relationship that felt suffocating at times.

Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that he truly meant well, that his intentions were rooted in love, even if his methods were flawed.

You were sitting by the pool, the sun beating down, trying to enjoy a moment of peace when Rafe came storming out of the house, his expression dark. He had that look again, the one that made your stomach churn with anxiety.

"Where were you?" he demanded, his voice low but intense.

You looked up, confused. "I was just at the store, Rafe. Why?"

"I saw you talking to that guy, the one from the beach." His eyes flashed with anger.

You sighed, frustration bubbling up inside you. "Rafe, we talked about this. He’s just a friend."

Rafe's jaw tightened. "Friends don’t fucking look at each other like that."

You stood up, meeting his gaze. "And what do we look like, Rafe? You said you’d stop with the jealousy, but it’s only gotten worse. I can’t live like this."

His face softened slightly, the anger giving way to something more desperate. "I’m sorry, okay? I just... I can't stand the thought of losing you again. I know I get carried away, but it’s because I care about you so much."

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Caring about me doesn’t mean controlling me. I need space, Rafe. You have to trust me."

He reached out, taking your hand. "I do trust you. It’s everyone else I don’t trust. But I’ll try, okay? I promise."

You nodded, feeling a flicker of hope. "Alright. Let’s try to make this work, but you have to give me some breathing room."

Rafe had planned a special dinner for the two of you at his place. The table was set with candles, the scent of your favorite dish wafting through the air. You smiled, appreciating the effort he had put in.

As you sat down to eat, the conversation flowed easily, and for a moment, it felt like old times. Rafe was charming and attentive, making you laugh and feel at ease.

"You know," he said, pouring you a glass of wine, "I’ve been thinking about us a lot. I want to make things right, to be the person you deserve."

You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "I want that too, Rafe. But it’s going to take time. We need to rebuild the trust."

He nodded, reaching across the table to take your hand. "I understand. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes."

The evening ended with you sitting on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, looking up at the stars. Rafe held you close, his presence a comforting weight against your side.

"I love you," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

You closed your eyes, leaning into him. "I love you too, Rafe."

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #obx #rafe x reader #rafe fic

[bwunnishit]

#~ : ୨୧ :~ broadcasting now! #needy streamer overload #needy streamer overdose #needy girl overdose #nso #nso ame #ame #ame chan #raincandy #real #I feel like this all the time #but it’s not just my phone I want to smash #everyone around me has been pissing me off #I can’t have alone time #I can’t even have a moment to calm down #always have to be bothered

[greenlight]

.

#i feel like i can’t go online anymore it’s just so hateful everywhere #not just about taylor even #but that’s the topic here #she was a little whatever at the grammys but like calm down #like the lana stuff…. i’m sure she wanted a nice gesture to lana in the moment and had no negative intentions. she maybe should have thought #about it harder and realized it could be insensitive #just as easily if she didn’t take lana up people could have said LANA WAS ON YOUR ALBUM AND LENDED TO THE SUCCESS how dare you snub her #idk #i just get this feeling online that everyone is immediately perceived wrong or evil and then people get in fights about takes #it’s exhausting

[priestfrommidnightmass]

i’m genuinely so exhausted these days i can barely function 😭 can’t wait for the summer where i am not going to get a single second to Breathe!

#like i’m happy #but i feel like i’m losing myself a little #i have no time to just Relax and take a breath anymore #because even the moments i objectively have ti calm down i cant #i’m so exhausted i can’t even rest. if that makes sense #if it sounds counterintuitive and awful that’s because it fucking is #ugh #whatever #i need to cry in someone’s arms one of these days. unfortunately i am too tired to even cry

[arabriddler]

important ! In recent years especially this year I’ve noticed a lot that the internet language picked up so many Islamic phrases and, from a muslim perspective, it makes the internet a little more welcoming. the thing is, a lot of the time with Islamic phrases you have to be careful about when and where to say them they hold their own weight and demand their own respect so here is a list explaining each phrase and some notes about it.

In sha allah

It means “ If God wills “. It’s mostly a response that can mean yes or no. If someone asks you to do something you can say in sha allah as in “ I heard you and I’ll try to do itc but I can’t claim that It will happen “ . Muslims say it because we’re unaware of what future holds it’s actually blasphemous to claim to know the future, so saying so means “ If it’s the will of god it will happen if not it won’t “ and you’d also say it about future events.

Ma sha allah

It means “ this is what god intended “ and it’s a compliment. Saying so is like saying WOW! But it’s also kind of a prayer of protection? If I see someone with pretty hair I should say “ Ma sha allah your hair is very pretty “ the ma sha allah protects the person from the evil eye. By saying that I’m also saying I’m not jealous I’m genuinely enamored and I don’t wish any harm to go to it.

Astagfurullah

it means “ to god I repent “ or “ from god I seek forgiveness” it’s usually used when you make a mistake but people also use it when they see something bad or when they want to avoid saying something bad. Like once my card refused to work and I’d say that so I won’t say any curse words and to calm down my anger

wallah/wallahi

okay this one is important. This one shouldn’t be used so lightly. It means “ by god’s name “ and it’s basically swearing in Allah’s name. You are only supposed to say it if you genuinely mean what you’re saying. It’s such a heavy word that I only say it very rarely and if you say it and don’t follow up on what you said you have to fast for three days as repentance.

ya allah

ya is an addressing word? Like talking to someone or calling them? Like saying O’ ( someone ) so ya allah means O’ god

Al hamdullilah // hamdullilah

it means ‘ praise/thanks to god ‘ said when something good happens or when you feel relieved about something— for example, my shirt is stained badly and I’m worried it won’t clean well. I clean it and the stain is gone so I say “ al hamdullilah “ kind of like phew!. Sometimes people say it as an answer when they’re asked how they are it can either mean things are good or bad but we preserve .

One more note is that with the name of Allah you should also be careful it’s not supposed to be written on papers that’ll get stepped on or lightly used in art because it also has its own weight it’s regarded heavily. Like even in home decorations it should be elevated and not overshadowed. If I have to throw away a paper I have to sit down and color over the name of Allah or burn the papers so it won’t get thrown in trash.

another note is that those phrases aren’t Muslim exclusive. Some Arab non-Muslims use them as well. This is only my explanation from a Muslim perspective.

Another another note is this is what I can remember at the moment but if you have additions or enquiries let me know

#Islam #Language #important