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callsigns-haze · 9 months ago

Text

Lean On

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Tyler Owens, an avid storm chaser, takes his friends Javi and Kate to meet his estranged wife YN and their son Noah, rekindling old tensions. During a fierce tornado, they seek refuge in a cinema, where Tyler and YN rediscover their love amidst the chaos. YN begs Tyler to never leave again, and he promises to stay, solidifying their connection he broke all those years back.

Warnings: Natural Disasters, Family Conflict, Romantic Intimacy, Strong Language

A/n: I only watched twisters and I just had too

Word count: 8,525 (holy fucking shit)

Tyler Owens had always been a free spirit, driven by an obsession that had gripped him since childhood: tornadoes. The power, the unpredictability, the sheer force of nature—it all fascinated him. He’d dedicated his life to chasing them, studying them, understanding their every whim and fury. Over the years, he’d assembled a crew, a family of sorts, who shared his passion and drive. Among them were Javi and Kate, friends and fellow storm chasers who had been by his side for two years.

It was a rare sunny day, with the sky an unbroken canvas of blue, that Tyler decided his team deserved a break. The adrenaline, the sleepless nights, the constant state of readiness—they needed a holiday from the storms, if only for a little while. The rest of the crew scattered to their own respites, but Javi and Kate chose to stay with Tyler, curious about his plans.

The three of them piled into Tyler’s truck, a rugged beast of a vehicle that had weathered countless storms. As the tires crunched over gravel and onto the open road, Kate glanced over at Tyler, who was focused on the horizon, his eyes alight with a spark that was hard to ignore.

"Where are we going, Tyler?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

Tyler's lips curled into a mysterious smile. "I want you to meet my family."

Javi, sitting in the back seat, leaned forward. "Like your mom and brother or something?" he asked.

Tyler chuckled, shaking his head. "Something better."

They drove for hours, the landscape changing from the bustling outskirts of the city to the serene vastness of the countryside. The sky, which had been clear and calm, began to change, dark clouds rolling in from the distance. It was a sight all too familiar to the trio, but this time, there was no urgency, no race against time. They were simply observers.

Eventually, Tyler turned off the main road, guiding the truck down a narrow path that led to a quaint, rustic bar. The sign above the entrance read "The Tipsy," and it depicted a tornado with two people dancing inside it.

Javi raised an eyebrow as he read the sign. "What are we doing here?"

Tyler smiled enigmatically. "You'll have to wait and find out."

He led them inside, the wooden door creaking as they entered. The interior was warm and inviting, with low lighting casting a cozy glow over the patrons scattered around the bar. A jukebox played soft country tunes in the corner, and the air was thick with the scent of aged wood and beer.

Tyler guided them to a booth near the back, the plush seats a welcome comfort after their long drive. As they settled in, Tyler glanced around the room, his expression one of contentment and nostalgia.

Kate looked at him expectantly. "So, what’s the big surprise?"

Tyler leaned back, a playful glint in his eye. "Just wait. It’ll be worth it."

Tyler’s eyes perked up from the booth, drawing the attention of Javi and Kate. They followed his gaze and noticed a beautiful woman behind the bar. She was effortlessly juggling bottles with perfection, her cowboy hat slightly tilted, her white tank top and jeans hugging her figure, and a pair of worn cowboy boots completing her look. Despite the bar being loud and overcrowded, it was clear who had captured Tyler's attention.

With a blink of an eye, she noticed him too. Her hands paused mid-juggle, and she delicately slammed a rag onto the bar before setting the bottles down. She made her way over to their booth, her expression a mix of surprise and something unreadable.

Tyler quickly smirked at her, the familiar gesture laden with unspoken words.

"You're finally here to see your son," she said, her voice carrying over the din of the bar, stunning both Kate and Javi into silence.

Tyler leaned back, his smirk unfaltering. "Javi, Kate, this is—"

"Your wife?" Kate interrupted, her voice a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.

The woman cut him off coldly. "I left you."

Tyler's smirk hardened slightly. "You threw a shoe and your rings at me. You never signed any papers."

A tense silence hung in the air, the lively noise of the bar feeling oddly distant as Kate and Javi exchanged bewildered looks. The woman’s eyes flashed with something fiery and unresolved, and Tyler’s demeanour remained unyielding, the confrontation a clear indication of a long-standing, complex history.

"This is YN," Tyler finally said, his voice softer but firm. "She’s my wife."

"Ex-wife," YN corrected, though her voice lacked the finality the words should have carried.

The revelation settled over Javi and Kate like a storm cloud, both of them struggling to process this unexpected twist. The woman standing before them was more than just a bartender; she was a pivotal piece of Tyler’s life that he had kept hidden until now.

"Well," Javi said, breaking the silence with a forced chuckle, "this just got interesting."

Kate nodded, her gaze flicking between Tyler and YN, trying to piece together the story that lay between them.

Tyler held YN’s gaze, his eyes conveying a mix of regret and determination. "I’m here now. We’ve got things to talk about."

YN crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "I’m going to get Noah," she said, turning sharply on her heel and heading toward the back of the bar.

Tyler watched her go, his face softening as he turned back to Kate and Javi. "I wanted you guys to meet my family."

Kate opened her mouth to speak, but the words seemed to escape her. Javi simply shook his head, still trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

The tension was palpable, but beneath it all was a thread of something more—an unfinished story, a connection that hadn’t yet been severed, no matter how frayed it had become.

As the noise of the bar began to filter back in, the dynamic between the four of them had shifted irrevocably. The past had resurfaced, bringing with it questions, emotions, and unresolved conflicts that would need to be addressed.

The noise of the bar buzzed around them, but Tyler, Javi, and Kate were lost in their own thoughts, processing the revelation and the tension that had just unfolded. Moments later, the door to the back of the bar swung open, and a small figure came running out.

Seven-year-old Noah, with tousled hair and bright eyes, darted through the crowd. His face lit up with pure joy and disbelief as he spotted Tyler. "Dad!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the noise.

Tyler’s eyes softened, and he stood up just in time to catch Noah as he launched himself into his arms. Tyler engulfed his son in a big hug, lifting him off the ground as he held him tightly. The boy’s arms wrapped around his father’s neck, holding on as if he were afraid to let go.

"I can't believe you're here, Dad!" Noah exclaimed, his voice muffled against Tyler’s shoulder. He pulled back just enough to look at his father’s face, his eyes wide with happiness and surprise.

Tyler chuckled, ruffling Noah’s hair. "Of course I’m here, buddy. I’ve missed you."

Javi and Kate watched the reunion with a mix of emotions, their earlier confusion and tension melting away in the face of Noah's obvious delight. Kate’s eyes misted over as she saw the unfiltered joy on Noah’s face, while Javi couldn’t help but smile at the touching scene.

Noah glanced over at Javi and Kate, his curiosity piqued. "Who are they, Dad?" he asked, still clinging to Tyler.

Tyler gently set Noah down, keeping a hand on his shoulder. "These are my friends, Javi and Kate. They’re like family to me."

Noah looked at them with wide eyes, a shy smile spreading across his face. "Hi," he said softly.

"Hey, Noah," Javi said warmly, giving a little wave. "Nice to meet you, buddy."

Kate crouched down to Noah’s level, her smile gentle and reassuring. "Hi, Noah. It’s great to meet you."

Noah beamed at that, clearly pleased. He looked back up at Tyler, his face serious for a moment. "Are you staying this time, Dad?"

Tyler’s expression grew solemn as he met his son’s gaze. "I’m here now, Noah. We’ve got a lot to talk about, but I promise I’m not going anywhere."

From the bar, YN watched the reunion with a mix of emotions, her hands resting on her hips. The sight of Noah so happy to see his father softened her stern demeanour, though there was still a guarded look in her eyes.

"Why don’t we all sit down and catch up?" Tyler suggested, his voice gentle as he glanced at YN.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. But remember, this doesn’t change anything," she said, though the edge in her voice was less sharp than before.

The initial excitement of the reunion began to settle, and Tyler looked at YN with a mix of hope and determination. "We’re down here for a week," he said, his voice steady. "Would it be alright if I took Noah to stay with me?"

YN’s eyes narrowed slightly, her protective instincts kicking in. "Stay with you? In some lousy motel room?" she asked, her tone dripping with scepticism.

Javi and Kate exchanged glances, noting how Noah seemed accustomed to his parents' tension. He watched the exchange quietly, his small hands clutching the edge of the table.

Tyler sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t have anywhere else to bring him for the night," he admitted.

Noah looked up at his mom, his eyes wide and pleading. "Please, Mom. Can Dad and his friends stay with us?"

YN hesitated, her eyes softening as she looked at her son. "Noah, you have your big soccer camp in a different state tomorrow," she reminded him, her voice gentle but firm.

Tyler's eyes widened in surprise. "Soccer camp? I didn’t know you played soccer, buddy."

YN’s expression hardened again, her eyes flashing with irritation. "If you’d been around, you’d know," she snapped.

A moment of heavy silence passed between them before YN sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Fine," she said, her tone resigned. "You can stay at the house for the week. But I’m serious, Tyler—if you touch anything, I’ll cut your balls off."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of keys, handing them to Tyler. "I’ve got to wrap up here. I’ll be home soon."

Tyler took the keys, his expression a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thanks, YN. I promise we’ll be respectful."

Noah's face lit up with a smile, and he hugged his mom tightly. "Thank you, Mom!"

YN’s stern expression softened as she hugged Noah back, brushing a hand through his hair. "Go on, get your stuff together. We’ll leave in a bit."

Noah nodded eagerly and dashed off toward the back of the bar, excitement evident in his every step.

Tyler turned to Javi and Kate, who were still absorbing the unexpected developments. "Looks like we have a place to stay," he said with a small smile.

Javi chuckled, shaking his head. "This is not what I expected when we set out today."

Kate nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. "No, but it’s… interesting. I think it’s good for you, Tyler."

YN glanced back at them, her expression softening slightly. "You three make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be done soon, and then we can head home."

As the night wore on, the bar gradually began to thin out. YN moved with practiced efficiency, announcing last call and starting to kick out the lingering patrons, both men and women, who had stayed for one last drink. The bar's noise ebbed as people shuffled out, some grumbling, others laughing, but all eventually making their way to the door.

Tyler, Javi, and Kate watched as YN’s no-nonsense approach cleared the room. She pulled down the metal protectors over the windows, the loud clanging echoing through the now quiet bar, locking them from the inside. Meanwhile, Noah sat with his dad, chattering about school and his friends, filling Tyler in on all the little details he had missed.

YN made her way around the bar, ensuring everything was locked up securely. She checked the register, wiped down the counter, and flipped off the neon lights, leaving only the dim overhead bulbs casting a soft glow over the room. Finally, she approached the booth where Tyler, Javi, Kate, and Noah sat.

"Alright, time to go," she said, her tone brisk but not unkind. She looked down at Noah, a question in her eyes. "Are you driving back with me or your dad?"

Noah glanced up at Tyler, his eyes full of hope. "Can I go with Dad, Mom? Please?"

YN hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. But you stay close to him, okay?"

Noah nodded eagerly, bouncing off the booth and grabbing his dad's hand. Tyler smiled, a wave of relief washing over him.

The group stood and followed YN to the front of the bar. She unlocked the door, the cool night air rushing in as they stepped outside. Tyler glanced back, taking in the now quiet bar with a sense of nostalgia.

YN stepped out after them, locking the door and pulling it shut with a finality that echoed in the stillness of the night. "You better take care of him," she said, her voice a mix of warning and something softer, something almost hopeful.

Tyler nodded. "I will."

She gave a small, almost imperceptible smile before turning to Noah. "I'll see you at home, kiddo. Behave for your dad, okay?"

Noah hugged her tightly. "I will, Mom. I promise."

With that, YN got into her car, the engine roaring to life as she pulled out of the parking lot. Tyler, Javi, Kate, and Noah watched her go, the taillights disappearing into the night.

Tyler looked down at Noah, who was beaming up at him. "Ready to go home, buddy?"

Noah nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Let's go!"

As they drove through the quiet streets, the hum of the truck’s engine filled the space with a comforting rhythm. Noah, sitting in the front seat in front of Tyler and Kate, couldn’t contain his excitement. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he turned to Kate and Javi, eager to share the details of his upcoming soccer camp.

“I can’t wait for the soccer camp tomorrow!” Noah said, his voice bubbling with excitement. “It’s gonna be so much fun!”

Kate, sitting behind him, smiled warmly. “That sounds amazing, Noah. What’s so special about this camp?”

Noah’s face lit up even more as he spoke. “It’s a big camp where lots of kids from different places come to learn new soccer skills and play games. There’s even gonna be a mini-tournament at the end!”

Javi, sitting in the backseat, leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Wow, that sounds like a blast! Do you play a lot of soccer at school too?”

“Yeah!” Noah replied eagerly. “I’m on the school team, and we’ve been practicing a lot. This camp is going to be so cool because I’ll get to learn from really good coaches and play with kids from other schools.”

Tyler glanced at Noah, a proud smile tugging at his lips. “Sounds like you’ve been working hard. I’m really proud of you, Noah.”

Noah’s smile widened at his dad’s praise. “Thanks, Dad! And guess what? My Uncle Matt is bringing me down to the camp tomorrow afternoon.”

Javi raised an eyebrow. “Your uncle?”

“Yeah,” Noah nodded vigorously. “He’s my mom’s brother. He lives a few hours away, but he’s coming to pick me up and drive me to the camp. I haven’t seen him in ages, and he promised he’d take me for ice cream on the way.”

Kate looked impressed. “That sounds like a lot of fun. It must be nice to have family supporting you.”

Noah nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, it is! Uncle Matt always makes things fun. He even used to play soccer with Mom when they were kids.”

Tyler’s gaze softened as he listened to Noah’s excitement. “I’m glad you’re so excited about the camp.”

Noah nodded, his eyes shining with anticipation. “I am! And I’m really happy you’re here, Dad. I can’t wait to tell you all about it when I get back.”

Tyler glanced at Javi and Kate, sharing a look that conveyed both appreciation and a renewed sense of purpose. This week was more than just a break; it was a chance to reconnect with his son, to be a part of his life in a way he hadn’t been able to before.

The truck rumbled up the gravel driveway, and as the headlights illuminated the house, the group caught their first glimpse of Noah's home. It was a charming ranch-style house, with a wide, welcoming front porch that extended across the front. The house had a warm, rustic appeal, its wooden siding painted a soft, weathered beige that blended harmoniously with the surrounding landscape. The wind, which had picked up slightly, rustled through the tall grass that framed the property, adding to the serene yet lively atmosphere.

As Tyler, Kate, and Javi stepped out of the truck, they were immediately met with the enthusiastic barking of Noah’s two German Shepherds. The dogs, bounding with energy, leaped toward them, their barks echoing in the cool evening air. Their fur was sleek and shiny, and their eyes glinted with excitement as they approached.

Javi laughed, holding his hands up in a gesture of friendly surrender. “Wow, those dogs really know how to make an entrance!”

Noah, already bursting with excitement, unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped out of the truck. He raced across the driveway, his footsteps quick and light as he ran toward the porch. The dogs, recognizing him instantly, turned their attention away from the newcomers and bounded after Noah, their tails wagging furiously.

Tyler and Kate watched with smiles as Noah reached the porch and threw himself into his mother’s arms. YN, standing on the porch with a warm smile, embraced Noah tightly, her expression softening as she held him close. The sight of the mother and son reunion was heart-warming, a clear sign of the strong bond they shared despite the complications.

Kate nudged Tyler gently, a playful glint in her eyes. “You know, the resemblance really proves Noah is definitely your child. Look at him, he’s got your energy.”

Tyler chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. “Yeah, I guess he does.”

As YN set Noah down, she looked up and offered a polite nod to Kate and Javi, her demeanour shifting to one of friendly hospitality. “Welcome to our home, Kate, Javi. It’s good to have you here.”

“Thanks for having us,” Kate replied warmly, returning YN’s smile. “Your place is beautiful.”

“Yeah, thanks for letting us stay,” Javi added, his tone appreciative.

YN's smile faded slightly as her gaze shifted to Tyler, her expression turning cold. “Let’s get your bags inside,” she said, her tone losing its warmth. “I’ll show you to the guest rooms.”

Tyler, feeling the chill in her voice, nodded. “Thanks, YN.”

They began unloading their bags from the truck, the dogs playfully nipping at their heels. The house, with its wide front porch and sprawling lawn, had a comfortable, lived-in feel. It was a stark contrast to the bustling city and the more impersonal surroundings Tyler was used to.

Once the bags were all gathered, they followed YN and Noah into the house. The interior was cozy, with warm wooden floors, rustic furniture, and an inviting atmosphere. YN led them through the front door, and the scent of home-cooked meals and fresh pine greeted them.

Noah, holding onto his mom’s hand, turned to Tyler with a big smile. “Come on, Dad! I want to show you my room!”

YN’s expression softened as she looked at her son’s excitement but remained cool towards Tyler. “Alright, Noah. Let’s get your dad and his friends settled first.”

She led them down a hallway, pointing out rooms as they went. “Kate, Javi, you’ll be in here,” she said, opening the door to a charming guest room. “There are fresh towels in the closet and extra blankets if you need them.”

“Thank you,” Kate said, her smile appreciative. Javi nodded in agreement, taking in the room with a grateful glance.

YN then turned to Tyler, her demeanour growing even colder. “Tyler, you’ll be in this room,” she said, opening the door to a smaller but comfortable room. “If you need anything, just ask.”

Tyler placed his bag inside, feeling the weight of the tension between them. “Thanks, YN,” he said quietly.

YN didn’t respond immediately, instead turning her attention to Noah. “Noah, why don’t you show your dad around while I finish up a few things?”

Noah nodded eagerly, grabbing Tyler’s hand. “Come on, Dad! I can’t wait to show you everything!”

Tyler allowed himself to be led down the hall, feeling a mix of hope and trepidation. As he looked back, he saw YN watching them, her expression a complicated mix of emotions.

The late evening had settled into a calm, quiet stillness, the only sounds being the gentle creaking of the old ranch house and the occasional rustle of leaves outside. After a full day, Tyler had just put Noah to bed, reading him a story and watching as his son’s eyes grew heavy with sleep. Satisfied that Noah was comfortably settled, he quietly exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Down the hall, the dim light of the kitchen spilled into the hallway, casting a warm, subdued glow. Tyler walked towards it, curious. As he reached the kitchen, he saw YN packing a bag on the table, her movements deliberate and methodical. She was gathering Noah’s football boots, kit, and other essentials, making sure everything was in place for the big soccer camp.

YN didn’t notice Tyler at first, her focus entirely on her task. The soft light highlighted the determined set of her jaw and the slight furrow of concentration on her brow. Tyler stood at the threshold for a moment, taking in the scene, before he cleared his throat gently to announce his presence.

YN looked up, her expression unreadable in the dim light. “He’s asleep?” she asked, her voice steady but quiet.

Tyler nodded, stepping into the kitchen. “Yeah, he’s out like a light. I read him one of his favourite stories.”

YN gave a small, almost imperceptible nod and continued packing. “He always loved bedtime stories. Especially the ones about tornadoes.”

Tyler watched her for a moment, then spoke softly. “You’re packing his bag for the camp?”

“Yes,” YN replied curtly, not looking up. “He’s got a lot to take with him, and I want to make sure he has everything he needs or more.”

Tyler moved a little closer, his gaze following her hands as she carefully folded Noah’s kit and placed it into the bag. “Can I help?”

YN paused, her hands still for a moment, then she sighed softly. “Sure. You can check if his water bottle is in the fridge. He’ll need that filled and ready.”

Tyler nodded, grateful for even this small opportunity to assist. He walked over to the fridge, retrieving the water bottle and filling it at the sink. The silence between them was thick, filled with unspoken words and lingering tension.

After a few moments, Tyler spoke again. “He’s really excited about this camp. It’s all he talked about on the drive here.”

YN’s hands stilled again, and she looked up, her eyes meeting his. “He’s been looking forward to it for months. It’s a big deal for him.”

Tyler nodded, feeling the weight of her words. “I’m glad he has something like this. He’s a great kid.”

“Yes, he is,” YN agreed, her voice softening slightly.

Tyler set the filled water bottle on the table and, in a sudden impulse, stepped closer to YN, wrapping his arms around her waist. She jerked back, startled, and pushed him away, her eyes flashing with a mix of surprise and anger.

“Tyler, we can’t do this every time you’re here,” she said, her voice firm and edged with frustration. “We act all happy, kiss, fuck, and then you leave. I won’t allow that.”

But as Tyler’s eyes locked onto hers, filled with a longing that mirrored her own buried emotions, he wrapped his hand gently around her neck and pulled her closer. His lips met hers in a deep, passionate kiss, pressing her against the table. YN resisted for a moment, her hands on his chest ready to push him away, but then she caved, her defences crumbling as the kiss deepened.

The world outside the kitchen seemed to disappear as they lost themselves in the moment. The kiss was filled with unspoken words, regrets, and a raw, undeniable connection that neither could ignore. Tyler’s hand slid from her neck to the small of her back, pulling her even closer, while YN’s hands slowly moved up to tangle in his hair.

Finally, they broke apart, both breathing heavily, the intensity of the moment hanging in the air between them. YN looked into Tyler’s eyes, a mix of anger, longing, and vulnerability in her gaze.

“This doesn’t change anything,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “You still have a lot to prove.”

“I know,” Tyler replied, his voice equally soft but resolute. “And I will. I promise.”

YN took a deep breath, stepping back and smoothing her hair. “We should finish packing. Noah needs to be ready for tomorrow.”

Tyler nodded, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, let’s finish up.”

YN finished packing the bag, zipping it closed with a final, decisive motion. She straightened up, looking at Tyler with a mix of determination and lingering hurt. “Just don’t disappoint him, Tyler. You had let down enough.”

Tyler swallowed, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders. “I won’t,” he promised. “I’ll do everything I can to be the father he deserves.”

YN nodded, a slight, weary smile touching her lips. “Good night, Tyler.”

“Good night, YN,” he replied, watching as she turned and left the kitchen, the dim light casting long shadows behind her.

The next morning, the ranch was bathed in the soft, golden light of dawn. Birds chirped in the trees, and a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere. The tranquillity was occasionally punctuated by the sounds of preparation, as YN and her brother Matt stood by his truck, loading up Noah’s bag for the soccer camp.

Noah, bouncing with excitement, was saying his goodbyes to Tyler, Kate, and Javi. He hugged Kate and Javi, thanking them for their visit, before turning to his father. Tyler knelt down to Noah’s level, wrapping his son in a big hug.

“Have a great time at camp, buddy,” Tyler said, ruffling Noah’s hair. “I’m really proud of you.”

Tyler replied with a smile. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Noah nodded, then ran over to where Matt was loading the last of his gear into the truck. Matt, a tall, sturdy man with an easy-going demeanour, lifted Noah’s bag effortlessly and placed it in the back of the truck. He gave his nephew a high-five before turning to his sister.

As Noah clambered into the truck, Matt leaned closer to YN, his expression curious. “Did y’all fuck again?” he asked, his tone genuine and slightly teasing.

YN’s eyes widened, and she quickly elbowed him in the ribs. “No,” she hissed, glancing around to make sure no one else heard. “God, Matt, why would you ask that?”

Matt rubbed his side, a smirk playing at his lips. “Just curious. You had that look in your eye this morning.”

“What look?” YN shot back, her voice low but sharp.

“The one that says you’re all conflicted and worked up,” Matt replied, his tone softening slightly. “Just concerned about you.”

YN sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. “It’s complicated, Matt. But no, nothing happened. We’re just trying to figure things out for Noah’s sake.”

Matt nodded, his expression turning serious. “I get it. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself too, okay?”

“I will,” YN promised, giving her brother a grateful smile. “Thanks, Matt.”

Tyler walked over to join them, his gaze shifting between YN and Matt. “Everything set?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Yeah, we’re all good,” Matt replied, giving Tyler a nod. “Noah’s ready to go.”

Noah popped his head out of the truck, waving enthusiastically. “Bye, Dad! Bye, Kate! Bye, Javi! See you soon!”

“Bye, Noah!” Kate and Javi called back, waving.

Tyler smiled and waved, his heart swelling with pride and a tinge of sadness. “Bye, Noah. Have fun, and listen to your uncle, okay?”

“I will!” Noah shouted back, his excitement evident.

With everything in place, Matt climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. YN gave Noah one last hug and a kiss on the forehead before stepping back.

After watching the truck disappear down the road, YN and Tyler turned back toward the house. As they walked, the silence between them was heavy but not uncomfortable. They reached the front porch where Javi and Kate were waiting, enjoying the fresh morning air.

YN gave them a warm smile. “So, are you two as madly obsessed with tornadoes as Tyler?” she asked, her tone playful but genuinely curious.

Javi chuckled, exchanging a glance with Kate. “Pretty much. It’s kind of hard not to be when you’re around him.”

Kate nodded, grinning. “Yeah, it’s definitely infectious. Tyler’s passion rubs off on everyone.”

YN’s smile widened a bit, and she motioned for them to follow her. “Well, come with me. I want to show you something.”

Curious, Javi and Kate followed YN, with Tyler trailing slightly behind. She led them across the yard to a large shed. As she opened the door, they stepped inside and were immediately struck by the sight of a whiteboard covered with detailed tornado studies, including diagrams, photographs, and various notes. The walls were lined with shelves full of meteorological instruments and equipment.

“Wow,” Kate breathed, her eyes wide with amazement. “This is incredible.”

Tyler stepped forward, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips. “YN used to chase tornadoes with me when we became married. She was just as passionate about it as I was.”

YN turned to face them, her expression a mixture of pride and practicality. “Yeah, I was. We made a great team, tracking storms and gathering data. But after I had Noah, things changed. Babies are expensive, and I needed a real job to support us.”

Her gaze shifted to Tyler, a hint of tension in her eyes. “Tornado chasing doesn’t exactly pay the bills.”

Javi and Kate listened, sensing the complexity of YN’s feelings. Javi stepped closer to the whiteboard, studying the detailed notes and diagrams. “You really know your stuff. It’s clear you were—and still are—a huge asset in the field.”

YN’s expression softened, appreciating the acknowledgment. “Thank you. I still follow the research and keep up with the latest developments. It’s hard to let go completely.”

Kate nodded, glancing between YN and Tyler. “It must have been amazing to chase storms together. But I understand why you had to make that choice.”

YN smiled gently, a mix of gratitude and bittersweet memories in her eyes. “It was amazing. And I don’t regret any of it. But priorities change, and I had to put Noah first.”

YN cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to the whiteboard. She pointed to a specific section filled with charts, graphs, and a detailed map marked with various weather patterns and historical data.

“Based on the latest alerts and previous occurrences, there’s a high probability that a tornado might strike today,” YN explained, her voice steady and professional. “The conditions are almost identical to past events that resulted in tornadoes in this area.”

Javi and Kate leaned in closer, examining the data with keen interest. Tyler’s eyes narrowed as he followed YN’s explanation, his mind already shifting into storm-chaser mode.

“I’ve been monitoring the weather patterns all week,” YN continued. “And everything indicates that we’re due for some severe weather today. The wind shear, humidity, and temperature changes are all pointing towards a potential tornado formation.”

Kate glanced at YN, impressed. “You really haven’t lost your touch, YN. This is some detailed analysis.”

YN smiled modestly. “Thanks. It’s hard to shake off old habits.”

As they looked out the window of the shed, they noticed the wind beginning to pick up. The leaves on the trees rustled vigorously, and the sky had taken on a slightly ominous hue, with dark clouds gathering in the distance.

Tyler stepped closer to the window, his instincts kicking in. “You’re right. The wind’s starting to stir up. We need to be prepared.”

YN nodded, her expression serious. “We need to keep a close eye on the weather reports and be ready to take cover if necessary. This area is no stranger to tornadoes, and we’ve got to stay vigilant.”

Javi turned to Tyler, his excitement barely contained. “Should we gear up and get the equipment ready? If a tornado does form, we’ll want to be ready to gather data.”

Tyler hesitated, glancing at YN. “What do you think? We don’t want to put anyone at risk.”

YN considered for a moment, then nodded. “We can set up some basic monitoring equipment around the property, but safety comes first. We’ll stay close to the house and make sure we have a safe place to take cover if things get serious.”

Kate started jotting down notes, already planning the setup. “We’ll need to monitor wind speeds, humidity levels, and temperature changes. I’ll get the anemometers and barometers from the truck.”

As they worked together to prepare, the tension in the air grew. The wind outside continued to pick up, whipping through the trees and sending small debris skittering across the yard. Dark clouds loomed overhead, casting an eerie shadow over the landscape.

Tyler turned to YN, his expression a mix of determination and concern. “YN, would you want to go chasing tornadoes again? Just like old times?”

YN paused, the question hanging in the air. She looked at Tyler, a swirl of emotions in her eyes. “Are you serious?”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah. It’s been a long time, and I miss having you out there with me. Besides, with the conditions today, we could really use your expertise.”

YN looked out the window, the wind howling louder now. Her passion for storm chasing still burned bright, and the thought of getting back out there, even just for a day, was tempting. She turned back to Tyler, a determined smile forming on her lips. “Alright. Let’s do it. But we stay safe, and we stay smart but I bet that's hard for you.”

Tyler’s face lit up with a mix of relief and excitement. “Deal.”

YN and Tyler sprinted toward his truck. The wind was picking up rapidly, whipping their hair and clothes as they ran. Tyler reached the truck first, yanking open the back and checking the equipment. Barrels, sensors, and cameras were all securely fastened, ready for deployment.

“We’re good to go!” Tyler shouted over the roar of the wind, giving YN a thumbs-up.

YN nodded, her heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and anticipation. “Let’s make sure everything is double-checked. We can’t afford any mistakes out there.”

Together, they quickly went through a mental checklist, ensuring every piece of equipment was in place and ready for action. Meanwhile, Kate and Javi were hustling to pack up the radars and additional monitoring gear. They worked with practiced efficiency, their movements swift and precise.

“Radars are set!” Kate called out as she slammed the tailgate of their support vehicle shut.

Javi gave a quick nod, securing the last of the equipment. “We’re ready. Let’s get moving before this thing really kicks off.”

The group piled into Tyler’s truck, the atmosphere inside charged with excitement and urgency. Tyler took the driver’s seat, YN sliding in beside him. Javi and Kate squeezed into the back, their eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of the impending storm.

As they pulled out of the driveway, the wind was already strong enough to rock the truck slightly. Dark, menacing clouds swirled above, casting an eerie shadow over the landscape. Tyler kept one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the radio to the local weather station for updates.

“We need to get to the very center of it,” YN said, her voice steady but filled with determination. “That’s where we’ll get the most accurate data.”

Tyler nodded, his eyes focused on the road ahead. “We’ll head west. That’s where the reports are indicating the strongest activity. Everyone, keep your eyes peeled.”

The truck sped down the rural roads, the wind howling louder with each passing minute. Leaves and small branches were whipped into the air, and the sky grew darker, an ominous prelude to the storm’s fury.

Kate leaned forward from the back seat, her voice tense but excited. “I’m picking up increased rotation on the radar. It’s definitely forming.”

Javi was already setting up the portable radar unit, his fingers flying over the controls. “We’ve got about ten minutes before it hits full force. We need to find a safe spot to deploy the barrels.”

Tyler pushed the truck harder, his foot pressing the accelerator to the floor. “We’re almost there. Everyone, get ready.”

They arrived at an open field, a perfect spot to launch their equipment without any obstructions. Tyler brought the truck to a screeching halt, and they all jumped out, working quickly to unload the barrels and sensors. The wind whipped around them, making every movement a struggle.

“Set the barrels here!” YN shouted, pointing to strategic spots around the field. “We need a wide spread to get the best data.”

They worked in synchrony, years of experience guiding their actions. Barrels were placed, sensors activated, and cameras positioned to capture every angle of the storm’s development. The wind was now almost deafening, the first drops of rain starting to pelt down.

“Okay, everything’s in place!” Javi yelled, his voice barely audible over the howling wind.

Tyler gave a final check, ensuring everything was secure. “Back in the truck, now! We need to move to a safe distance.”

They scrambled back into the truck, slamming the doors shut against the force of the wind. Tyler drove them a short distance away, finding a spot where they could monitor the barrels and sensors without being in immediate danger.

Inside the truck, the tension was palpable. They watched as the storm continued to build, the radar showing increasing rotation and intensity.

“Here it comes,” YN said quietly, her eyes glued to the horizon. “Get ready, everyone.”

As they turned the truck around to face the direction they had come from, the tornado materialized in full force. It was a monstrous, swirling vortex, far stronger and more violent than any of them had anticipated. The sheer power of it took their breath away, and for a moment, there was stunned silence inside the truck.

"Tyler, hit the gas!" Javi screamed, breaking the spell as the tornado surged closer, the wind howling louder than ever.

Kate clutched the seat in front of her, eyes wide with terror. "Go, go, go! It's coming right at us!"

Tyler didn’t need to be told twice. He slammed his foot down on the accelerator, and the truck lurched forward with a roar, tires spinning for a moment before gaining traction. The engine roared as they sped away from the impending doom.

YN gripped the dashboard, her knuckles white. “Drive into town! We need to get to the shelter!” she yelled, her voice barely audible over the deafening noise of the storm and the wail of the tornado sirens that had just started blaring in the distance.

Tyler's eyes were locked on the road, his focus razor-sharp as he maneuverer the truck through the increasingly treacherous conditions. Debris flew through the air, and the rain was coming down in blinding sheets, making visibility almost zero. He squinted through the windshield, barely making out the shapes of trees and houses as they sped past.

The wind buffeted the truck from side to side, each gust threatening to push them off the road. Javi and Kate huddled in the back, gripping whatever they could to steady themselves. The tension was palpable, fear mixing with adrenaline as they raced against nature’s fury.

“We’re almost there!” Tyler shouted, though the words were more for his own reassurance than anything else. He could see the outline of the town ahead, the familiar shapes of buildings providing a glimmer of hope.

As they barrelled into town, the sirens wailed louder, their eerie wail cutting through the chaos. People scrambled for cover, but it was clear there was no dedicated shelter nearby. The streets were filled with panic-stricken faces, families huddling together, and everyone looking desperately for a place to hide.

“There!” YN pointed towards the old cinema, its marquee flickering in the storm. “We need to get everyone inside! It’s our best shot!”

Tyler swerved towards the cinema, the truck skidding slightly on the wet pavement but maintaining control. They reached the cinema just as the tornado seemed to roar with renewed fury, the swirling winds growing even more intense.

“Everyone out! Now!” Tyler commanded, slamming the truck into park and jumping out.

They all scrambled out of the truck, running towards the entrance of the cinema. Tyler and YN threw the doors open, ushering people inside. The lobby quickly filled with a mass of frightened, drenched townspeople, their faces masks of fear and urgency.

“There’s no basement!” a man shouted, panic rising in his voice as he scanned the building.

“We’ll have to make do!” YN yelled back, trying to maintain some semblance of order. “Everyone, get to the back of the theatre! Away from the windows!”

They herded everyone into the main auditorium, the old seats creaking as people pressed in tightly. The walls shuddered with each gust of wind, and the overhead lights flickered ominously. Tyler, YN, Javi, and Kate took positions by the doors, doing their best to calm the panicked crowd.

“Keep away from the doors and windows!” Tyler shouted, trying to be heard over the growing cacophony. “Get down and cover your heads!”

The wind outside was deafening, a relentless howl that seemed to penetrate the very walls of the cinema. The roof groaned under the pressure, and with a horrifying screech, a section of it began to peel away. Dust and debris rained down, and the crowd screamed in terror.

“Stay calm!” YN tried to shout, her voice nearly drowned out. She grabbed a young mother clutching her child and guided them to the relative safety of the aisle. “Stay low and cover your heads!”

Tyler ran to the centre of the auditorium, his voice strong and commanding. “Everyone, stay together! We’ll get through this!”

Javi and Kate moved through the crowd, helping to calm people and keep them as safe as possible. But the noise was overwhelming, and the fear was palpable. The building shuddered violently as another section of the roof began to rip away, exposing them to the fury of the storm.

A fierce wind gust whipped through the open space, sending papers and loose objects flying. The sound was like a freight train bearing down on them, and the temperature seemed to drop as the tornado closed in.

Tyler grabbed YN’s hand, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of determination and fear. “We need to hold on. We’ve faced worse before.”

YN nodded, squeezing his hand back.

Suddenly, the main doors blew open, the wind slamming them against the walls. People screamed as the full force of the storm invaded the theatre. Tyler and YN ran to secure the doors, but the wind was too strong, making it nearly impossible.

“Get back!” Javi shouted, pulling them away just as another piece of the roof tore off, sending debris raining down.

They retreated to the back of the theatre, joining the huddled mass of townspeople. YN shielded a young girl with her body, while Tyler did the same for an elderly couple. The wind roared, and the structure of the building groaned as if it might collapse at any moment.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the wind seemed to lose some of its ferocity. The howling diminished to a deafening roar, and the debris stopped flying. The eye of the storm passed over them, giving a brief respite.

Tyler looked up, panting. “We need to move. If we’re in the eye, the other side of the tornado will hit soon. We need to find a more secure spot.”

YN nodded, urgency in her eyes. “Everyone, stay close! We need to move quickly and find better cover!”

But before they could organize the next move, the wind picked up again, signalling the approach of the tornado’s second half. The noise returned, louder than before, and the remaining sections of the roof began to buckle.

“Hold on to something!” Kate screamed, gripping a nearby seat.

The storm’s fury was unrelenting, the howling wind now a deafening roar that consumed everything. Inside the theatre, the panicked crowd clung desperately to the metal railings that lined the aisles, their white-knuckled grips their only anchor against the tornado’s immense force.

“Hold on tight!” Tyler shouted, his voice barely audible over the cacophony. He braced himself against the railing, his other arm wrapped protectively around YN.

Debris swirled through the air, and the theatre's walls creaked ominously. A sudden gust of wind tore through the room, lifting seats and sending smaller objects flying. A few unfortunate souls lost their grip and were swept away, their screams lost in the maelstrom.

YN’s fingers were slipping on the railing, the sweat and dust making it nearly impossible to hold on. “Tyler!” she cried out, her voice filled with fear as she felt her grip weakening.

Tyler’s heart pounded in his chest as he saw YN’s desperate struggle. He reached out, his hand closing around her wrist just as her fingers slipped free. “I’ve got you!” he yelled, his voice a mix of determination and fear.

The wind howled with renewed ferocity, and Tyler tightened his grip, pulling YN closer. She clung to him, her body trembling with the effort to stay grounded. Around them, the chaos continued, people holding on for dear life as the storm battered the theatre.

A particularly strong gust rocked the building, and Tyler felt his own hold on the railing waver. He gritted his teeth, using every ounce of strength to keep both himself and YN anchored. “Don’t let go!” he shouted, his voice raw with strain.

YN’s eyes met his, wide with fear but also filled with trust. “I won’t,” she promised, her voice barely more than a whisper.

As the storm raged on, the moments stretched into what felt like an eternity. Tyler could feel his muscles burning, every tendon straining to keep his grip. He glanced around, seeing Javi and Kate nearby, their faces set with grim determination as they held on.

“Hold tight, everyone!” Kate screamed, her voice cutting through the noise. “We’re almost through this!”

The theatre's structure groaned under the pressure, the walls and ceiling shaking as the tornado’s full force bore down on them. The wind was a relentless beast, tugging at everything in its path. Tyler’s grip tightened on YN’s wrist, his other hand aching from holding onto the railing.

Suddenly, a piece of the ceiling gave way, crashing down with a deafening noise. Dust and debris filled the air, and for a moment, it was impossible to see or breathe. Tyler coughed, his eyes stinging, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“Stay with me, YN!” he shouted, his voice hoarse.

“I’m here!” she responded, her voice strong despite the fear.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the wind began to subside. The roar of the tornado faded to a distant howl, and the violent shaking of the building eased. The storm was passing, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Tyler took a deep, shaky breath, his muscles screaming in protest as he slowly released his grip on the railing. He pulled YN into a tight embrace, relief flooding through him. “We made it,” he whispered, his voice filled with exhaustion and relief.

YN clung to him, her body trembling with the aftershocks of fear and adrenaline. “Thank you,” she whispered back, her voice choked with emotion.

Without thinking, driven by an overwhelming surge of emotion, Tyler cupped YN’s face in his hands and kissed her deeply. It was a kiss filled with relief, love, and a promise of never letting go. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them in that moment.

YN responded instantly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back with equal fervour. Tears mixed with the dirt on her face, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that they were together, alive, and safe.

When they finally broke apart, YN looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. “Tyler, please,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Never leave me again. Please.”

Tyler rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ll never leave you again, YN. I swear it.”

They held each other tightly, the chaos around them fading into the background as they found solace in each other’s arms. The bond that had once been strained was now reinforced by the shared trauma and the depth of their love.

Javi and Kate staggered over, their faces pale but relieved. “Is everyone okay?” Javi asked, his voice rough from the dust and strain.

Tyler nodded, still holding YN close. “We’re okay. We’re all okay.”

Kate glanced around the devastated theatre, her eyes wide with disbelief. “That was… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

YN pulled back slightly from Tyler, her hand still holding his. “We need to make sure everyone’s accounted for and get the injured some help.”

Tyler nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Right. Let’s do a headcount and see who needs assistance.”

Together, they moved through the theatre, helping those who had been thrown by the wind and checking on the injured. The sense of community and shared survival was palpable, everyone working together to ensure that no one was left behind.

As they helped an elderly couple to their feet, YN glanced at Tyler, her eyes still filled with emotion. “We’ve faced worse storms, but this… this was different.”

Tyler squeezed her hand, offering a small, encouraging smile. "Please let me back to you guys, nearly losing you there hurt me more than leaving you all those years back."

...

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almostempty · 6 months ago

Text

FYBF (javier x f!reader)

(javier x f!reader) | wc: 4.8k | other fics |

javier takes you home to prove that he can fuck you better than your boyfriend

this pwp was inspired by me having FYBF stuck in my head and the line "I prolly wouldn't treat you better, but I'd do you better"

tags/warnings: 18+ gratuitous smut, infidelity!, no condom, no editing, no y/n, no plot

🎤 i just wanna say that this one goes out to a special baddie and i hope she likes it when she reads it (happy belated bday @gothcsz this for u)

He can’t take his eyes off of you. Every time the lights flash, illuminating your glowy skin and the fluid roll of your hips to the music, he tries to see everything all at once. Tries to map your body, plan exactly how he’d make you sing for him.

You’re a vision. Feminine and fierce in a way that calls to him. The balance to his masculinity and the tenderness that he wears on his sleeve.

You aren’t alone. Your friends are gorgeous too. The two of them surround you, smiling, twirling, and mirroring your rhythm. The three of you dance like the rest of the room is watching; like the rest of the room doesn’t exist.

You’re a playful trio, a dangerous trio. Grinding against each other. Bouncing between each other easily. Maybe you’re more than friends, he wonders, as you tease each other, tangling limbs, and winding your sweating bodies together. You all have magnetic energy. A gravity. The rest of the room orbits around the three of you.

But, Javier is drawn to you. You’re graceful, yet powerful. Devastatingly sensual. He leans against the bar, shifting his weight on his feet, and wetting his lips. He surveys the rest of the club but always comes back to you. It’s dark, loud, and hot with all of the bodies in the building.

He knows it’s a slim chance–interrupting the three of you–maybe this is your girl’s night out or something. But then, the song changes to something more melodic. You thread your arms over your head, accentuating the lines of your body, exposing your smooth skin and your curves.

You might as well have a spotlight on you like it’s your revenge dance in a romance film.

Javier’s fingers are itching to touch you. He can feel the weight of your tits in his palms, taste the soft spot at the hinge of your jaw on his tongue, and feel the swell of your ass rubbing against —

Yeah, his dick can feel it, too. Twitching in his jeans. Javier tightens the fist at his side and he slams down the last of his drink. Discarding it on the bar without a glance backward. He can’t turn away from you; he refuses to lose sight of you.

Your dress ripples, shining when the light hits you as you shift. It looks like it would be soft and slippery to the touch. Just like the rest of you. As your eyes shut and you sway, he decides you’re a fucking killer. You could take him apart moving just like that—but on his lap. You could end him with a look, fuck, he wants to see for himself.

He’s on the move now. Compelled. You see him, running your eyes over his body. It’s like a rose-colored path pulls him closer with every step. Javier knows it’s his chance to strike.

He’s on you in a second, slipping in front of you with a compliment and asking, like a gentleman, if you’d give him a song. He doesn’t miss the way you run your eyes down his body and back to meet his gaze. You like what you see, baby? It hangs on his tongue and crooked grin.

“Sorry,” you murmur into his ear, not slowing down the roll of your body. “I’ve got a boyfriend.” You grip the back of his head tightly, fingers woven into his hair. As if the strength of your grip is the only thing keeping your lips from finding each other. As if sharing the same breath with your noses nearly brushing each other isn’t intimate.

“A boyfriend,” he repeats, not backing off. The club is dark, loud, and filled with hot, sweaty bodies. But when he dips closer and his lips brush your ear, you can hear every ounce of lust and challenge behind his next words. “If you really want him, why are you apologizing?” His rich voice makes your veins buzz.

“Seems like you’re wanting me,” you retort in a silky voice, “I can’t be what you need.” He runs his wide hands down your sides, wrapping around your waist. It’s all too much, but fuck, you can’t stop. Proving your point, he guides you, and you’re pliant for him. He turns you, pulling your hips towards his until the swell of your ass rubs along the hard line of his cock. “Fuck,” you breathe out, imperceptibly.

“Just once,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, making your skin prickle and your resolve falter. “Just tonight.” You almost laugh, almost scoff, but his hands tighten on your hips, guiding your movements like he’s already claimed you. The thrill of it, of how badly he wants you, sends a shiver down your spine.

“Just once,” you repeat, but it doesn’t come out sharp or mocking. It sounds like surrender.

He tilts your head back, making you meet his eyes. His gaze is molten, the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk that’s too knowing. “When you want more, we’ll figure it out,” he says, so confident, so sure, it makes your chest tighten.

The nerve. The arrogance. You should roll your eyes, but instead, you find yourself staring at his lips, imagining how they’d feel.

“You think you can treat me better?” you ask, your voice sharp, deflecting, desperate to push him away before you actually fall into him.

“Nah,” he admits with a small shake of his head, his honesty so casual it catches you off guard. It shouldn’t make you laugh, but it does, softly, a sound that feels dangerously like complicity.

“But I’ll fuck you better,” he adds, dead serious, the weight of his words crashing down on you.

Your breath hitches. Your cunt clenches around nothing, suddenly feeling devastatingly empty. Your body answers him before your mind can catch up. Rubbing against him, searching for more.

Your silence stretches, but it doesn’t feel like victory. It feels like a test. Javier’s smirk deepens as if he already knows how this is going to end. His thumb brushes over your jawline, a featherlight touch that juxtaposes the ferocity in his gaze.

“You know it’s true,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with amusement. “Your boyfriend,” he pauses, letting the word linger like an insult, “doesn’t even know how to make you look like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking about how fast you can get me alone,” he says, cocky and unrelenting. Javier’s fingers slide lower, skimming across your waist. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

You don’t. You can’t.

“You think you’re irresistible?” you fire back, your voice sharp, trying to cut through the haze he’s wrapping around you.

“I think you want to find out,” he murmurs, his lips hovering near yours. “I think you’ll let me prove it.”

The heat in your stomach coils tighter. You want to push him away, but your body betrays you, pressing closer instead. His scent—spicy and rich—wraps around you like a trap. The club feels suffocating, the music distant. All you can focus on is him.

“Quit playing,” you mutter, though your voice lacks conviction. “You’re not that good.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression equal parts amused and predatory. “Let me show you.”

Before you can answer, or argue, he grabs your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. His grip is firm but not forceful, the silent question in his eyes daring you to say no.

The rational part of you screams to stop this. But the rest of you? The part that’s been craving something more? That part wants to find out if he really is as good as he claims.

You part from him briefly, giving your friends a flimsy excuse. Then, turning back without a word, you let him lead you out of the club.

The car ride is quiet but electric. His hand stays on your thigh the entire time, the pressure just enough to keep your pulse racing. He doesn’t talk. Doesn’t need to. The smug tilt of his mouth says it all: he knows he’s won.

When you get to his place, he steps aside to let you in first. The door closes with a soft click, sealing the tension between you.

“You want this?” he asks, leaning casually against the wall, like he’s giving you a choice but fully expecting your answer.

You should leave. Go him to your empty apartment. Call your boyfriend. But instead, you turn to Javier, arching a brow. “Your mouth only good for talking?”

His grin sharpens, all teeth and promise. "Oh, I’m gonna ruin you." He pushes off the wall, arms unfolding and drawing you right toward his broad frame. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the strength in his body like a slow-moving tide, pulling you under.

Before you can fire back, he’s on you. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him, and a shiver runs through you at the contact. Your body feels like it’s on fire, every inch of you hyperaware of him, of the weight of his hands on your skin, the hardness of him pressing against your stomach.

His lips find your neck first, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your skin, his breath warm and intoxicating. Your pulse quickens. His touch is so deliberate. Knowing. His hands are everywhere—spanning your waist, sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you tighter against him, holding you like he can’t get enough.

You feel the desire flooding through you, the way your body melts into his with such ease. You should stop. You should push him away, tell him you don’t need this. But then his fingers dig into you, and your body responds before your brain can catch up. His grip on you is possessive, like he owns you already. You can’t fight it. You don’t want to fight it.

He walks you backward until you’re leaning against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest. You swallow, trying to steady yourself, but you feel weak. And then, he drops to his knees in front of you and you think you might actually combust.

“You look good up there,” he teases, his voice husky, low. God, it does something to you when he speaks like that. His hands push up your skirt, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to look away. You don’t. You won’t. He pulls your panties down and you’re on fire, aching for him. “But you’re gonna look better after you come for me.”

The words make your cunt throb. Before you can think to respond, his mouth is on you. His tongue glides against you, the first slow, deliberate swipe making your knees buckle. You gasp, an involuntary sound that escapes your lips before you can stop it. Fuck. He works you over, teasing and tasting, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. Every stroke of his tongue feels like a sin, a slow burn that builds in the pit of your stomach.

His grip on your thighs tightens, fingers digging into your flesh, and you realize he’s holding you steady, keeping you in place. His hands feel so sure, so confident, pulling you deeper into him, his lips pressing against you with a hunger that leaves you breathless.

He doesn’t rush. Of course he doesn’t. Javier never rushes. He seems determined to take his time, to savor every moment, like he’s proving a point. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, his teasing strokes making you dizzy and needy.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he murmurs against you, the vibration of his voice pulling you in deeper. His breath fans across your skin, setting you alight, as he pulls back just enough to look up at you. Maddeningly confident, lips glistening from how wet he’s had you all night, his smirk is predatory. A warning. A promise.

A sight you know you won’t forget.

“Already forgetting how to talk?”

You steady yourself against the wall, trying to summon some strength, some defiance, but your body is already betraying you. The heat in your core is almost unbearable now, and every flick of his tongue only makes it worse. You bite your lip, your eyes meeting his, willing yourself not to give in completely.

“You think this is enough to ruin me? That you proved anything just by getting on your knees?” you challenge, your voice surprisingly steady, though your pulse is hammering in your ears. You don’t want to admit it, that you’re already close, that you’ll be getting off to the memory of his lips wrapped around your clit for weeks.

His eyes darken, a predatory glint flashing in them. He doesn’t say a word, just grins. Slow, knowing, and dangerous the curve of his lips has you swallowing hard. He presses in closer, his body a wall of heat against yours. “Oh, no,” he says, his voice low and dark with promise. “This is just the beginning.”

You’d roll your eyes at him for being cliche, but he dips his head back down and you know that he’s right. You’re already lost, and it’s too late to turn back now.

His tongue and lips work with an intensity that leaves you breathless. He alternates between broad, sweeping strokes and more focused attention that sends lightning through your veins. The slick heat of his mouth is overwhelming, and every time you think you’ve hit your limit, he finds a new way to drag you closer to the edge.

Your hands find his hair, tangling in the soft strands, holding him to you like you’d collapse if he stopped. “Fuck,” you breathe, your voice breaking as his teeth graze you lightly, just enough to make your hips jerk.

“Easy,” he chides, pulling back just enough to flash that debased smirk. His face is flushed with exertion and the sight alone nearly undoes you. “Stay with me.”

You manage a shaky laugh, tugging at his hair in retaliation. “Still right here,” you bite out, your voice laced with defiance.

His tongue works you in slow, torturous circles. He moans against you, the sound vibrating through your core, and the sheer pleasure of it has you arching into him, chasing the friction he’s so generously giving.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groans, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulls you impossibly closer. “I could stay here all night.”

The thought makes your knees threaten to give out, and he notices, of course he does. His hands shift, one sliding up to steady you.

“Don’t you dare stop,” you whisper, your voice a desperate plea.

He chuckles darkly, the sound muffled against you. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

And true to his word, he doesn’t let up, working you over with a skill and focus that makes you dizzy. Every flick of his tongue, every scrape of his teeth, every hot, open-mouthed kiss drives you higher and higher until you’re trembling. He adds his fingers, increasing the pressure, and multiplying the intensity. He uses them expertly, fucking into you with them and working in tandem with his mouth to flood your senses.

When you hit a peak that makes your muscles spasm, and euphoric waves radiate through you, it’s not quiet. It’s a gasping, desperate sound that echoes in the room, and the satisfaction in his eyes as he watches only makes it ring deeper in your ears.

Before you can catch your breath, he rises to his feet, his lips curling into that same cocky smirk that got you here in the first place. “Told you,” he says, his voice low and rough, like he’s savoring every second.

“Not bad,” you manage, though your voice wavers as you lean back against the wall for support.

“Not bad?” he repeats, his grin turning wolfish. He steps closer, his body pressing against yours.

Javier doesn’t let you recover. He brings you to his bed, stripping clothes off in such a frenzy you don’t get the chance to really admire him. He’s urgent. On a mission. Pulling you on top of him and hooking his hands under your thighs.

“Come here,” he orders, his voice a low, commanding growl. “I’m not done.”

You start to protest, but he’s already moving, guiding you down onto him as he lies back against the mattress. He looks up at you, with clear desire, his hands gripping your hips like he owns you.

“Ride my face,” he murmurs, his voice so dark it’s a weapon. “Don’t get shy now.”

The challenge in his eyes leaves no room for hesitation. You settle over him, your thighs wobbly as his mouth finds you again. This time, there’s nothing gentle about it, he’s relentless. Encouraging you to move, to use him, to drown him underneath you.

The sheer intensity of it makes your head fall back, a strangled moan spilling from your lips. The way he groans against you sends vibrations through your core until you’re barely able to hold yourself upright.

“I’m close,” you gasp, your voice raw and desperate.

That spurs him on. His hands tighten on your hips, guiding your movements, and when you finally break, it’s hot, overwhelming, and all-consuming. You collapse forward, panting, as he slowly eases you down from the high, his lips and tongue still working gently, reverently.

When you manage to lift your head, his grin is smug, his lips shining as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “How was that?” he asks, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Am I still all talk?”

You glare weakly at him, but the fire in your chest betrays you. “Shut up,” you mutter, collapsing beside him on the bed.

But Javier isn’t done. He shifts above you, his body covering yours, his weight pinning you down in a way that makes you feel deliciously trapped. His hands roam your skin like he’s memorizing every curve. He presses kisses to your shoulders, your collarbone, the swell of your breasts, murmuring soft, filthy praises between each one.

He notices how sensitive you are and you can hear the delight in his discovery. “You like that,” he declares. You can only hum in agreement as he rolls your nipples between his fingers. He takes his time, testing the ways you respond to his fingers, tongue, and teeth. He’s quick, learning exactly what makes you gasp and whine.

Repeatedly working you up with soft swirls of his tongue over your hard nipples and rough pinches that make you squirm. He uses his teeth sparingly, but with finesse, keeping you on edge.

“God, you’re perfect,” he says, his voice rough with awe.

Your breath stutters, his words striking something deep, but before you can respond, his mouth is on yours. His kiss is a slow burn, deliberate, his tongue darting out to taste yours.

“Not perfect,” you whisper.

Javier lifts his head, his dark eyes piercing. “Wrong,” he purrs, his lips curving into a dangerous smirk. “You’re perfect for me. I’ll make you believe it.”

Without another word, he’s back down between your legs, his mouth finding the sensitive skin at the juncture of your thighs. His tongue is hot and insistent, dragging every ounce of pleasure from you with ruthless efficiency.

He groans against you and your back arches off the mattress, a helpless cry spilling from your lips. “There she is,” Javier murmurs, his voice muffled but dripping with smug satisfaction. “Let me hear it.”

“Please,” you gasp, your hands gripping his hair, holding him to you greedily. He chuckles darkly, the sound reverberating through your body. “Please, what?”

You need him to get over his oral fixation and fuck you already, but you can’t find the words and your hands can’t seem to let go. He’s relentless and tapped into some sort of self-restraint and stamina you couldn’t fathom. You strain your neck, tipping your chin to your chest to watch him work.

You can’t tell if he’s this set on getting you off on his tongue to prove his merit to you, or if it’s more for him at this point. He uses everything. Nose, lips, tongue, chin. Inundating you with all of him. With one wide, heavy hand splayed across your lower stomach, he keeps you in place. His other hand keeps your thigh spread wide for him.

What does ruin you–that you would never admit to him–has nothing to do with his mouth or his hands. It’s when you prop yourself up on your elbows, and you can see his hips rutting slowly into the mattress. It makes your eyes roll back. It confirms how badly he wants you in a way that feels more raw and vulnerable than any words he could say.

That knowledge obliterates you. Stealing your breath, and any control you have over your own muscles. You sink, body rolling and contracting with relief and satisfaction. Javier doesn’t stop. He rides out your high, his tongue and lips coaxing aftershocks that leave you breathless and whimpering.

You relax, your hazy, pleasure-drunk mind is quiet and empty for a moment. He takes advantage of your pause, his fingers stroking over your sensitive skin, making you jolt, gasping his name.

His hand slides between your thighs, fingers slick and knowing as they stroke over the spot that has you gasping, your resolve crumbling with every second. “Javier,” you choke out, louder this time, your back arching off the bed.

“I know,” he murmurs, satisfaction dripping from his voice. The sound sends a thrill through you. He kneels between your legs, his body so broad and overwhelming as his hands grip your hips, positioning you just right. His cock presses against you, teasing, demanding, too much, too soon, yet it feels like the only thing your body craves.

He shifts his hips slightly, and the tip of his cock nudges against your entrance. Your breath hitches. You feel the heat of him, the weight, the promise of how he intends to ruin you.

“Going to make sure you don’t forget me,” he says in a low, gravelly voice, and your body responds to the dominance in his words, buzzing for what’s next. He pushes into you slowly, inch by inch. His eyes never leave yours, dark and intense, watching you as if he can see straight into your soul.

Holy fuck. The stretch is overwhelming but it feels so right, so perfect. Every nerve is on fire, each sensation magnified as he moves deeper. God, he feels good. Sinking in so slowly, you can’t breathe, can’t think. Just the feeling of him inside you, claiming you completely.

“Feel that?” he murmurs, his voice a low growl, the vibrations of his voice reverberating through you. “I want you to remember every second of this. Every inch of me.”

You try to hold on, but it’s impossible. His voice is lethal. The heat of his body against yours, the way his cock fills you completely—it’s all you can do to stay lucid, but you want more. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your head falling back as he reaches the end of you, as deep inside of you as he can get. Your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths.

Javier groans, the sound almost painful. Hungry. His hands grip your hips like he’s holding himself back, the tension in his body taut, coiled, ready to snap. He’s holding back? The thought is enough to make you moan again.

“Perfect for me. Just like I knew you would be.”

The words make your walls clench and flutter around him. He’d use that against you if he wasn’t trying desperately to keep it together now that he knows what it feels like to be inside of you. There’s nowhere to look to steady himself. Your face glows, drunk from the orgasms and his praise, your tits glisten with sweat and his saliva–he slams his eyes shut only to see every detail of you just the same. Another deep breath and he presses on.

His pace is slow at first. Sawing into you with torturous precision. Each thrust designed to make you feel all of him.

It doesn’t stay slow for long. His pace picks up, a steady rhythm that makes you writhe. You want to beg, but you don’t know what it is you need. He gives it to you hard, hips snapping as he grunts from the effort. Knocking all of the guilt you’d been smothering right out of your mind.

His force overwhelms you, destroying you with bliss and a floaty time-warping joy. Altering your future, distantly you know you’ll be forever changed because of him.

He doesn’t stop. Oblivious to the seismic impact he’s having on your pussy and future.

He shifts his position, pulling you upright with effortless strength. Just like in the club as he rolled against you, you fit together so perfectly it’s obscene. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, mindless as he fills you with his cock again, deeper at this new angle. You’re at his mercy. Intoxicated by the way his length tortures every nerve inside of you.

His face is still steeped in concentration and satisfaction, but there’s something else that makes you study his eyes. The more of a mess you are the more his pride swells, but it’s not about proving his point to you. It’s about proving something to himself. A whisper of vulnerability hides behind his words. You’re too out of it to understand what it means. Just aware there’s something more.

“You feel that?” he growls, using his deliciously bruising grip to give you the support to bounce along his cock. His lips brush your ear as you flicker between the sensory overload and the clawing, hot need to come again. “This is what you’ve been missing. What you’ll be thinking about when you’re with him.”

You know he’s right. You can only nod your head, chanting yes in rhythm with his hips snapping into you.

You bury your face in his neck, your breath coming out in short, desperate bursts, the sweet torture of him driving you wild. His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your swollen, sensitive clit and rubbing, and you break again, your body shattering, surrendering to him.

Your nails rake down his back, desperate for release, as you bounce against his slick, toned body.

But he’s not done. On a warpath. If he only gets one night, he’s going to make it a guarantee.

He lays you back down with a shift of his body, his hands sliding under your thighs to lift your hips, angling you perfectly. The new position sends you into another realm, your body is his and all he wants to do is wring out every last ounce of pleasure within you. Over and over again.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice low, rough, and dangerous. You force your eyes open, your gaze meeting his, dark and hungry, and in that moment, you know there’s no turning back.

“I want to see your face when you come for me.”

Each word will be etched into your mind forever. When you dream of him, when you touch yourself, every time you close your eyes.

His thumb presses against your clit again; it’s rapturous. You come undone beneath him, your body trembling violently, your voice hoarse as you call out his name and a string of curses.

He follows seconds later with a broken groan. He buries himself deep, giving himself over to you, his cock pulsing with the same urgency to fill you as your cunt clenches in desperation to milk him dry.

He collapses onto his forearms above you, his breath hot and uneven against your skin as you both come down, the room heavy with the sound of your ragged breathing.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Breathe.”

The affection and tenderness soothe something deep within you, and for a moment, all you can do is bask in the connection and the depth of something you can’t name. Until it shifts.

The haze begins to clear, reality creeps back in.

His laugh is low and dangerous, a sound of pure victory.

Javier shifts beside you, his hand sliding possessively over your hip, but your mind is already racing.

Panic bubbles up in your chest as you sit up, reaching for your clothes. Javier watches you with a satisfied smirk, clearly unbothered by your sudden urgency.

“You don’t want to stay?” he teases, his voice lazy and smug.

You shoot him a sharp look, your hands trembling as you smooth down your dress. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but he sees through you.

“Maybe,” he says, propping himself up on one elbow, his gaze raking over you with dark amusement. “But you’ll still think about me when you see him.”

His words hit like a gut punch, and you bite your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to stop thinking about him.

“See you Monday?” he says, his tone deceptively casual, but the smirk on his face is anything but.

Your stomach flips at the reminder. Monday. At work. Where Javier works. Where your boyfriend works.

General tags in case y'all want some javi smut too 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar @swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame @magneticecstasy

@indiegirlunited @syd-djarin @harriedandharassed

@bbyanarchist @94namkooksworld

#javier peña smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #pwp fic #smut smut smut

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wordsmith-of-my-mind · 1 year ago

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It would be cool if the eternal trio at some point ended up as the owners of the night club. Like they are regulars, they work there, and they love that place. Also no one knows that they own it and the trio are extremely fair in their business.

Bruce has been chasing after Damian for years now, the once child now a young adult. He's missed 5 years of his son's life, due to a conversation where they both said the wrong words which resulted in Damian running away and somehow managing to evade all of them for so long.

He has to get to his son, before Talia sucks him right back up into the league.

They managed to track his location down to a nightclub, apparently, he was participating in a regularly held event that's been going on ever since 6 years ago.

So they went to the city the nightclub was in, disguised themselves in the crowd and was told to let each other know if they've found Damian.

He didn't expect to meet Talia and the same nightclub, but it made sense. If he was able to find Damian, then it makes sense for Talia to be able to do so as well, even after years hiding from the both of them.

He was keeping an eye on Talia, and she was keeping an eye on him as well, when the event started. The most popular-and only- DJ appeared and played music that had the civilians going wild, and then an entire stage sprang from the ground, multicolored lights coming to life.

This was an event in which multiple dancers had to compete against each other, for what was previously the chance to battle Wraith, the champion who also acted as the DJ, but that changed when Demon came around, overthrowing Wraith and yet, the two seemed to be evenly matched, taking the champion title from each other over the period of 5 years.

Now, who ever got far enough had the option to pick between the two, the Wraith or the Demon.

===

Danny, or otherwise known as Wraith, managed to find a place for himself after losing everything to the Nasty Burger explosion, with the help of Vlad to get him back on his feet, he managed to find a place for himself in a nightclub in another city.

It was in that same city, that he didn't expect to see his twin, Damian Al Ghul, by himself. He explained that he left his father, and was on the run from their mother, Damian didn't know what to do with himself anymore.

Which-as much as he wasn't on a cordial relationship with Damian- reminded him of himself after the explosion of Nasty Burger. So, he took him in at his pretty decent size apartment, fully prepared to do what was needed for his older brother until he got back on his feet.

Then Damian followed him to the nightclub one day, and then the next demanded that Danny teach him so that he could earn his keep.

And Danny did.

He didn't expect for Damian to progress so fast that he was able to dethrone him, though. But he gave credit where credit was due, and if Damian was hellbent on doing this for a living, then he had to wear a mask to hide his identity, from you know, some types of fans and the League as well.

He asked Vlad for another neon mask- he had one himself- and Vlad gave him one surprisingly easy, and then he gave that mask to Damian.

And that, was how Wraith and Demon became regular champions that dethroned each other, until the manager told them to stop because no one else would be able to display their skills and instead made them both champions.

Either pick one or get two.

Their lives fell into an endless motion of DJing, dancing to earn money, and then going back home to a messy apartment, eating and then passing out.

It was a perfect routine that neither of them whished to disturb.

Then Danny saw Talia, and Damian saw Bruce, and suddenly that peace was threatened. Neither of them wanted to go back now, not after establishing this little thing for themselves that they carved out with their own two hands.

But it would be okay, as long as their masks stay on they would go unnoticed, after all.

They wouldn't even think that their children were dancers, would they?

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

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cherry

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, stripper!reader, prostitution, protected blowjob, protected p in v sex

“that hot guy is back again.” sugar says, pulling back the curtain just an inch, pointing into the crowd.

“ugh, he is so fine.” you whine. “we never get hot guys in here.” it’s your number one problem with your new strip club, in a much different area than your last, therefore attracting a far different crowd, mainly, an older one.

“girl, i know. everyone wants to take him into the back.” sugar raises his eyebrows, knowing you share her proclivity for taking clients into the back rooms to get an personal “dance.”

“it’s gonna be a fight for who he picks.” you giggle, quickly closing the curtain when the strip club house mom walks into the backstage area.

“i know i’m going right to him when lapdances start, but so is every other girl.” sugar says, adjusting the bra she’s wearing.

“if he stays, remember he left after the shows last time.” you point out. he stayed for all the girls to do their solo shows, but by the time lapdances and duos and trios came out, he was gone.

“good point, cherry.” sugar nods, using your stripper name, which is always a bit of a shock when its the girls doing it, but you learned quickly here that its a sign of respect to keep your real name out of the workplace at this club, so you quickly adapted to only using stripper names.

“alright girls, music is starting!” the house mom shouts out. you are later on in the set, so you head back to your station and adjust your costume for the night, a cherry red number to fit your name, matching your nail polish and lipstick.

you wait until its your turn to go on, hearing the music play and waiting for the right beat to walk out, the club letting out a cheer as you strut onto the stage. the routine is an old one that you’ve done a million times, and your body easily works through the motions, running almost on autopilot, giving you time to look into the crowd, gauge the reactions, including the handsome guy everyone wants sitting forward, eyes intense.

you are out of breath and completely naked except for your heels as you walk back behind the curtain, pushing your hair back that got caught in your face.

“girl, shut the fuck up! hottie was totally into you!” lola says, her voice sounding excited, despite a couple of the other girls giving you a jealous look.

you pull your next lingerie set, the one you liked for lap dances as you shrug. you noticed that he was paying very close attention to your dancing, but you didn’t know that he wasn’t giving everyone else the exact same heated look.

“i think its only fair we let cherry at him first.” sugar suggests, and there’s a smattering of agreement from the other girls, which is enough to set it as a rule, you get to approach the attractive man before anyone else could take their shot.

it makes you excited for the individual sets to end as you make sure to touch up your lipstick and blot any sweat and oils from your forehead. you saunter out as soon as you are allowed, the last stripper still making her way off the stage.

your eyes immediately set sight on your target. “hello there, handsome.” you purr, watching as the handsome mans eyes slowly drag up your body. “can i interest you in a dance?” he smiles, a closed mouth smirk that conveys powerful confidence. he doesn’t even use his words, simply pulls a bill out of his pocket. you smile with all your teeth back at him, knowing they’re framed by your bright red lips as you tug at the waistband of your lacy panties, letting him slip the folded bill against your skin, fingers briefly brushing against your hip.

you turn around as the man sits back in his chair. you place your hands on either side of the arm, giving yourself some support as you lower your ass over his crotch, hovering and moving side to side, teasing before you finally press down, letting your ass roll over his crotch and thighs.

“you like that?” you ask with a smirk, but the man know he doesn’t need to answer, not when you can certainly feel his excitement growing in his pants.

you continue your lap dance for longer than usual, even parting your thighs slightly to give yourself some pleasure as well, hoping its not too noticeable for anyone watching, and you’re sure some of the other girls are staring in anger as they have to give lap dance to old drunk men.

you rise up before turning back to the man. “would you like another dance? a private one in the back?”

he nods, standing up to follow you as you lead him into the back hallway with various doors, cracked if they’re empty, and locked shut to indicate someone else had already been taken back. officially, your club is a stripclub, but its an unspoken rule that lapdance time also meant that dancer could take clients back for anything they wanted to do in private, and that money would stay solely with the dancers, not needing to give the bouncers or bartenders a percentage.

“whats your name, handsome?” you ask, gesturing him into one of the empty rooms, the lights already low, red velvet couches pushed up on either side of the wall with a small table in the center. the room is small, but plenty of space for just the two of you.

“rafe.” he answers with a smirk, hand coming to your waist, touching the bare skin there. “and money is no object so whatever we do, don’t worry, i can afford it.” he pulls a bill out his pocket to prove it, tucking it again into your panties.

“hot and rich, i like that.” you hum.

“is there anything thats not allowed?” rafe asks, fingers rubbing over your sides, clearly excited to get started.

“wear a condom. no hitting or leaving any sort of marks on my body. any hard kinks, you need to tell me beforehand.” you explain quickly, having gone over the spiel with other customers before.

“just wanna fuck you.” rafe smirks, his voice deep and alluring, making you for once feel yourself getting excited about sleeping with one of the clients.

“why don’t you sit down then?” you gesture to the couch. rafe sits down with the same smirk on his face, his arms resting on the back of the couch as you begin to dance, able to hear the music from the main lounge of the club, using it as your tempo as you move your body, slowly taking off your lingerie under rafes watchful eye.

you get yourself completely naked, all while rafe watches you with that same look on his face, clearly growing in his pants, his cock pushing against the zipper.

you kneel down between his legs, tossing your hair to the side while you rub over his cock before undoing the button teasingly slow, followed by his zipper. “so big.” you coo. it’s usually what you say to make your average sized customers feel better, but for once you mean it with rafe.

“gonna suck me, cherry?” rafe asks, your eyebrows raising slightly when you realize that he remembered your name from when it was announced on stage before your set. “get that pretty red lipstick all over my cock?”

you tug his pants down in response, taking his underwear down with it as you watch his cock spring free, already hard and pulsing with need.

“gotta put a condom on for oral too.” you remember suddenly, having gotten so excited you almost started sucking him without it.

“aw, come on, i promise i’m clean.” rafe says, his voice so sickly sweet you hesitate, but remember the horror stories of other strippers getting stds from breaking rules.

“sorry handsome.” you shake your head, grabbing a condom out of the bowl on the table before sliding it over his cock. you make up for the condom quickly by sinking your lips over his dick, the red lipstick transfering onto the condom instead as you suck.

“oh, thats good.” rafe moans, leaning back against the couch as you bob your head, his hands moving to your hair.

you work your tongue against his cock as you suck, pulling out all the skills that you’ve learned in your years of working in clubs. you resist the urge to smirk as rafe moans loudly, not afraid to have his noises of pleasure heard.

you nuzzle yourself against rafes abs as his cock slides down your throat, swallowing repeatedly to not gag as you deepthroat him. you go to pull off when rafe pushes you back down, his hips lifting to keep your lips pressed against his pelvis.

you flutter your eyes closed and breathe for your nose as rafe pumps forward, lifting his hips off the couch to fuck his cock down your throat. you hum, creating vibrations around his dick while rafe grips your hair, tugging you down to meet his thrusts.

you are about to tap out, needing to take a real breath when rafes cock throbs in your mouth and pulls you off, your scalp burning slightly from rafe using your hair to tug at you.

“god, you’re good, i was about to cum.” rafe groans, relaxing back into the couch as you’re still kneeled below him, wiping away the spit that has fallen down onto your chin.

“how do you wanna fuck me?” you ask, standing up over rafe.

“hands and kneels, cherry.” rafe stands, shucking his pants off of where they are pooled around his ankles.

you climb onto the couch, arching your back to present your ass to rafe. he rubs his hands over your bum before rubbing his fingers through your folds, surprised to find how wet you already are.

“you're actually turned on, huh?” rafe smirks, taking his cock and rubbing it through your folds.

“yeah.” you whine, trying to push your hips backwards, to get him inside of you.

“damn cherry, you're acting like you're the one paying me here.” rafe laughs, and you know you should be more professional, and maybe you would have if rafe would have asked you to ride him, but being bent over the couch, waiting for his big cock to enter you has you actually turned on for the first time when with a client.

“come on.” you moan, arching your back to present your cunt to rafe, which finally has him satisfying your wishes, sliding forward as his cock stretches you open.

“fuck.” rafe groans, instantly snapping his hips forward, slick sounds echoing around the empty room as he moves.

you finally remember that you’re the stripper here and begin to push your hips back onto him, meeting every one of his thrusts. as soon as you start to move, rafe grabs onto your hips to help out, slamming your bodies together.

“such a pretty pussy, cherry.” rafe says, hands squeezing your hips, just gentle enough to not leave bruises.

“such a big cock.” you compliment right back. “feels so good in me.”

“yeah, you like this big dick, huh?” rafe smirks, moaning when your cunt clenches down on him. you’re determined to make him cum quickly, despite not wanting it to be over any time soon, you also want to impress rafe and show off your skills.

you spread your legs a little more and press yourself forward so you can sink down onto your elbows, giving rafe a whole new angle, which you can tell he likes from the groan that escapes his lips.

“so good for me, gonna have to come back here and fuck you more often.” rafe says, hips grinding into your ass.

“yeah, yes, please.” you whine out, reaching between your legs with one hand to rub at your clit, knowing you shouldn’t worry about yourself and just focus on rafes pleasure, but your clit is pulsing and begging to be touched as you massage it.

“such a dirty whore.” rafe says, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

rafe continues to fuck you hard while you get yourself closer to the edge, surprised how easily your high is building as rafes cock pumps into you.

“you close cherry? can feel you clenching round me.” rafe asks, sliding his hands to your ass, grabbing your cheeks and spreading them open, using the grip on your bum to continue to pull your hips back onto his cock.

“yeah, real close.” you moan, making sure to exaggerate your noises, hoping it would spur rafe along, and it does as he starts to moan incessantly, panting out a mix of curse words and your stage name.

“gonna cum.” he manages to warn seconds before he releases inside of the condom, grinding his hips into you as it triggers your own orgasm, fingers rubbing speedily as you cum, slumping into the couch as shivers rack your body.

rafe keeps himself lodged inside of you until your highs are thoroughly rode out. he pulls out with a groan, not able to help himself as he brings a hand to smack your ass, not hard enough to leave a print despite your no hitting rule, but you let it slide, especially as your wetness drips onto the couch.

“did i wear you out cherry?” rafe smirks, taking the condom off and tossing it into the trashcan before getting his clothes back on.

“fuck yeah you did.” there’s no use denying it, rafe can tell by the way you’re still breathing heavily.

“can you hand me a towel.” you point towards a small rack by the door that rafe hadn’t noticed before, clean towels stacked neatly on it. rafe grabs one of the washcloths, stepping over to you as you manage to turn yourself to sit upright on the couch.

“let me, yeah?” he kneels down, one hand gently rubbing at your thighs while he wipes your fluids away from your cunt, cleaning you off with surprising gentleness.

“thanks.” you mumble as rafe tosses the cloth into the trash as you redress in what little clothing you were wearing.

“how much?” rafe asks, pulling out his wallet as you collect the money that fell out of your waistband when you stripped for him.

you rattle off the number as rafe opens his wallet, pulling out more than enough to give you a generous tip, but he’s clearly not hurting for cash.

“do you go on again tonight?” rafe asks as you tuck the money into the cup of your bra.

“yeah, i’ve got one more number.” you nod as you head towards the door, opening it for rafe.

“i’ll stay just for you then, cherry.” rafe says, walking out the door past you with that signature smirk.

you feel your cheeks blush slightly as you watch him saunter down the hallway and then take his same seat as you rush backstage.

“tell me everything!” sugar shouts.

“oh my god,” you flop down on one of the couched, muscles still tired. “he is BIG.”

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kasel-the-mightless · 3 months ago

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I love the bromance concept between Owlthena, Telemachus and Horseidon, living in my head rent free. But unfortunately, I can't transmit my brain impulses to y'all 😔, so, here's mini-comics!!!

What's going on??? Well— Poseidon is wounded, and until his wounds heal he is basically just a very strange&cool horse. And the same sentence applies to Athena

And this creates quite an interesting situation for us! Poseidon is too wounded(and grounded??? He pissed off Amphitrite, soooo) to escape from Ithaca. Athena is too wounded to fly away. And they are forced to be in the same living space. And to be the object of care for one particular Disney princess — Telemachus!!!

Basically, it's the trio from "Angry Grumpy & Innocent Ray of Sunshine & Angry Grumpy". But, like— 500k words slowburn, with full disclosure of the Poseidon and Athena lore. And Poseidon goes through character development and a Redemption Arc. Because I love it when powerful beings get their heads smashed by life itself, and I want Poseidon and Athena to look like wet cats for half the story

And Ody befriends and disco dancing with Dionysus and Ares in the background

Penelope may or may not inspire fear in Apollo and Hermes

Things are complicated. I have too many thoughts

Alternative colour version:

Original colour version:

#art #fanart #epic the musical #kasel #epic poseidon #epic athena #horseidon #owlthena #epic telemachus

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llamagoddessofficial · 10 months ago

Note

How about headcannons for fae Nightmare are fav Winter King??

You're in a relationship with two Nightmare's, really.

The first Nightmare is the King. Overwhelmingly powerful, aloof, wickedly intelligent, stern but with a strong sense of justice, (privately) very caring and gentle. This Nightmare is the one you spend the vast majority of your time with. He flirts like a courtly prince... he ballroom dances with you on glittering midwinter nights, he reads you poetry by dwindling firelight. He gifts you the finest gowns and furs, matched only in craftsmanship by his own, he puts crystal necklaces around your neck and silver rings on your fingers. He kisses your knuckles and takes you on long romantic horse rides, he has a winter flower garden made for you, he wraps his cloak around your shoulders when you're tired. This is the Nightmare that has been tempered by hundreds of years of rule. The man he shows the world; the man he wants to be, for you.

... Then there's the other Nightmare. The one underneath. The one that never recovered from the wound to his skull, nor the betrayal he felt after.

That Nightmare is furious. Ragged. Desperately tired, hates everything but you. Wildly possessive - barely holding back from clawing out the eyes of anyone who looks your way. Starving for your love, but absolutely terrified of what that means. Wants to sink his teeth into you and never let go.

Generally, the first Nightmare is excellent at covering up the second, he's had centuries to practise. But you catch glimpses. That's the Nightmare who sees a courtier aggressively flirting with you at a feast, and takes them outside to beat them within an inch of their life and leave them bleeding in the snow. That's the Nightmare that drinks a little too much wine and won't let go of your wrist all evening. The Nightmare who draws you like he's trying to capture you forever in the paper; the one who pulls you closer to him in the middle of the night. The Nightmare that stares jealously at people who make you laugh, only just covering his tracks and laughing along when he realises he's being intimidating.

He's very gentle with you. He'll never raise his voice at you.

He's got a surprisingly playful side. For all his gloomy seriousness, he seems to take quite a bit of joy in teasing you. The other skeletons are jarred by the sight of you teasing him back - that's a luxury no one else in either kingdom can afford.

Killer has his stray cats. Nightmare has his beloved horse, the eighteen-hand beast that bites off hands and kicks in heads. She has an obvious soft spot for you. Only you and Nightmare can mount her.

Nightmare also has some (equally beloved) massive hunting hounds who resemble dire wolves more than dogs. They look terrifying and vicious, coming and going from the castle as they please, often disappearing as a pack into the wilderness for days. When Nightmare isn't around, alongside the usual trio of Killer Dust and Horror looking after you, you'll have some massive fluffy good boys as excellent bodyguards.

Nightmare can be... difficult. He isn't very good at expressing himself; he lies about how he feels to make you feel better, getting the truth out of him is getting blood from a stone. He's a romantic, he wants to look after you, he wants everything to be about you. He's happy when you're happy and his own wants are far too messy and scary to unpack. Gifting you another set of sapphire earrings is much easier than admitting he's massively insecure and just wants you to stay in bed with him all day, cradling his skull and telling him you care.

... All that being said... you will never know loyalty like his. Many people say they would 'wait a thousand years' for their partner.

He actually would.

#llamagines #fae au #bad sanses

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tosomeonessomeone · 3 months ago

Text

irony in harmony.

words・ 7.9k /pairings・ Seungmin x reader / genres・fluff / warnings・ little bit spicy?

The studio was buzzing with energy, a rare kind of electricity that only came when creative minds collided. Y/N adjusted her headphones, her fingers flying over the soundboard as she fine-tuned the latest track. Her two best friends, Mia and Jisoo, were deep in discussion with the Stray Kids members, their voices a low hum in the background. The room was a chaotic blend of laughter, technical jargon, and the occasional burst of music.

Y/N was the visual director of their trio, the one who brought their musical visions to life with stunning visuals and concepts. She was known for her sharp wit and even sharper tongue, a trait that had earned her both admirers and adversaries in the industry. But today, she was all business, her focus entirely on the task at hand.

Seungmin leaned against the wall, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. He had heard about Y/N and her friends, the trio that had taken the music world by storm with their innovative productions. But seeing her in action was something else entirely. There was an intensity about her, a fierce dedication that was both intimidating and captivating.

He caught her eye as she glanced up from the soundboard, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Then, with a smirk that could only be described as wicked, she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Enjoying the show?" she quipped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Seungmin chuckled, pushing off the wall and walking over to her. "Just admiring the view," he shot back, his tone equally ironic.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "Cute. But flattery won't get you anywhere with me."

"Noted," Seungmin replied, his grin widening. "But just so you know, I'm not easily intimidated."

"Good," Y/N said, turning back to the soundboard. "Because neither am I."

And just like that, a spark was lit. Two sarcastic, sharp-witted individuals, each recognizing a kindred spirit in the other. It was the beginning of a friendship that would soon blossom into something much deeper.

The days turned into weeks, and the collaboration between Stray Kids and Y/N's trio was in full swing. The studio became their second home, a place where creativity flowed freely and ideas were born and refined. Y/N and Seungmin found themselves working closely together, their banter becoming a staple of the studio atmosphere.

One afternoon, as they were reviewing the latest edits for the music video, Seungmin leaned back in his chair and glanced at Y/N. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be the visual director, you spend an awful lot of time in the sound booth."

Y/N didn't look up from her laptop. "And for someone who's supposed to be a singer, you spend an awful lot of time critiquing my work."

"Touché," Seungmin said with a laugh. "But seriously, you're good at this. Like, really good."

Y/N finally looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "Thanks. Coming from you, that actually means something."

Seungmin shrugged. "Just calling it like I see it. You've got a knack for bringing out the best in people."

Y/N studied him for a moment, then smiled. "You're not so bad yourself, Seungmin."

He feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch. That one hurt."

"Good," Y/N said, her smile turning into a grin. "You needed to be taken down a peg or two."

The collaboration was a whirlwind of creativity and energy. Mia, the choreographer director, was a force to be reckoned with. Her sharp eye for detail and relentless drive for perfection had the dance line of Stray Kids—Hyunjin, Lee Know, and Felix—completely floored. They spent hours in the dance studio, pushing their limits and learning new routines that Mia choreographed with precision and flair.

"Again," Mia commanded, her voice firm but encouraging. "You need to hit that move with more power, Hyunjin. Imagine you're breaking through a wall."

Hyunjin nodded, sweat dripping from his brow as he repeated the move. Lee Know and Felix followed suit, their movements synchronized and sharp. Mia watched them with a critical eye, nodding in approval as they nailed the routine.

"You're getting there," she said with a small smile. "But don't get complacent. We have a lot more to cover."

Meanwhile, Jisoo, the musical producer, was in her element with 3Racha—Bang Chan, Changbin, and Han—and the vocal line—Seungmin and I.N. They were in the sound booth, fine-tuning the tracks for the new album. Jisoo's expertise and innovative approach to music production had the boys in awe.

"Let's try that bridge again," Jisoo suggested, her fingers flying over the soundboard. "I want to add a layer of harmonies here to give it more depth."

Bang Chan nodded, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "That sounds amazing. Let's do it."

Changbin and Han exchanged glances, their respect for Jisoo evident. "She's a genius," Changbin whispered to Han, who nodded in agreement.

I.N, ever the eager learner, was soaking up every bit of knowledge he could from Jisoo. "Can you show me how you did that effect on the vocals?" he asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Jisoo smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "Of course, I.N. Let's break it down."

While the rest of the group was immersed in their respective tasks, Seungmin found his attention constantly drifting to Y/N. She was in her element, moving between the sound booth and the editing suite with ease. Her sharp wit and quick comebacks kept everyone on their toes, but there was a softness to her that Seungmin couldn't ignore.

One evening, as they were wrapping up for the day, Seungmin found himself alone with Y/N in the editing suite. She was reviewing the latest cuts for the music video, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Need any help?" Seungmin asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Y/N glanced up, a small smile playing on her lips. "Depends. Are you any good at editing?"

Seungmin chuckled. "Not really. But I'm great at moral support."

Y/N laughed, the sound music to his ears. "Well, I could use some of that. This scene is giving me a headache."

Seungmin walked over, standing behind her chair as he looked at the screen. "What's the issue?"

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. "The transitions are off. It's not flowing the way I want it to."

Seungmin studied the screen, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "What if you tried cutting it here?" he suggested, pointing to a specific frame. "It might create a smoother transition."

Y/N considered his suggestion, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she made the adjustment. She played the sequence again, and this time, the transition was seamless.

"Wow," Y/N said, turning to look at him with a surprised smile. "That actually worked. Thanks, Seungmin."

Seungmin grinned, his heart swelling with pride. "Anytime. I told you I'm good at moral support."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Don't let it go to your head."

Their laughter filled the room, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. But then reality came crashing back as Mia called out from the hallway, "Y/N, we need you in the dance studio!"

Y/N sighed, closing her laptop. "Duty calls."

The week was winding down, and late Friday evening, the usual hustle and bustle of the studio had quieted. Most of the team had dispersed, either heading home or grabbing a late dinner. Seungmin, however, found himself lingering. Something felt off. Y/N, who was usually in the thick of things, was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t spotted her in the music studio, the dance studio, or even the editing suite. It was unusual, and it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

He found Jisoo in the sound booth, tweaking the final mix of a track. “Hey,” Seungmin said, leaning against the doorframe. “Have you seen Y/N? She’s not in her usual spots.”

Jisoo glanced up, her expression a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. “Oh, she’s in her art studio. Has been since she got here. She’s probably deep in her creative zone. Trust me, it’s best not to disturb her when she’s like this.”

Seungmin frowned. “But it’s been hours. Shouldn’t someone check on her?”

Jisoo smirked, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she could see right through him. “Why? Worried about her, Seungmin?”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just… curious. She’s usually around, that’s all.”

Jisoo chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, if you’re that curious, go ahead. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Y/N can be… intense when she’s working.”

Seungmin nodded, already turning to leave. “Thanks, Jisoo.”

As he made his way down the hallway toward Y/N’s art studio, he could hear faint music drifting through the door. It wasn’t the usual track they’d been working on—it was something softer, more melodic. He paused outside the door, his hand hovering over the knob. The music grew louder, and then he heard it—Y/N’s voice.

She was singing.

Seungmin froze, his breath catching in his throat. Her voice was rich and soulful, filled with emotion he hadn’t expected. She wasn’t just singing; she was pouring her heart out, her voice rising and falling with the melody. It was raw, beautiful, and completely captivating.

He stood there, transfixed, as she sang the final notes, her voice fading into silence. For a moment, he couldn’t move. He had no idea she could sing like that. Why had she never mentioned it? Why had she hidden this part of herself?

Before he could overthink it, he knocked on the door.

“Jisoo, Mia, unless the building is on fire, leave me alone,” Y/N called out, her voice tinged with annoyance.

Seungmin hesitated, then cleared his throat. “It’s me… Seungmin.”

There was a long pause, and then the sound of footsteps approaching the door. It opened slowly, revealing Y/N with a slightly embarrassed smile. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and there were smudges of paint on her hands and cheeks. She looked… stunning.

“Hey,” she said, her voice softer now. “What are you doing here?”

Seungmin scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward. “I, uh, was looking for you. Jisoo said you were here, and I just… wanted to check on you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a small smirk. “Check on me? That’s sweet. But I’m fine, really. Just working on some stuff.”

Seungmin glanced past her into the studio. The room was a chaotic blend of canvases, sketches, and half-finished projects. There was a record player in the corner, the source of the music he’d heard earlier. “You’ve been in here all day?”

Y/N shrugged. “Time flies when you’re in the zone. What about you? Shouldn’t you be with the others?”

“I was,” Seungmin said, his eyes locking onto hers. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about where you were.”

Y/N’s smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer. “Well, now you know. I’m here, painting, listening to music, and… singing, apparently.”

Seungmin’s face lit up. “Yeah, about that. Why didn’t you tell me you could sing like that? You’re amazing.”

Y/N looked away, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not a big deal. I just… sing for myself. It helps me think.”

“Not a big deal?” Seungmin repeated, stepping closer. “Y/N, you have an incredible voice. You should be sharing it with the world.”

She shook her head, her expression turning serious. “It’s not that simple. Singing is… personal for me. It’s not something I do for other people.”

Seungmin studied her, his heart aching at the vulnerability in her eyes. “I get that. But just so you know, I’m really glad I got to hear it. Even if it was by accident.”

Y/N looked back at him, her smile returning. “Thanks, Seungmin. That means a lot.”

They stood there for a moment, the air between them charged with something unspoken. Then Y/N stepped back, gesturing for him to come in. “Since you’re here, want to see what I’ve been working on?”

Seungmin grinned, following her into the studio. “I’d love to.”

As the weeks went by, Seungmin and Y/N’s bond deepened in ways neither of them could have anticipated. Seungmin, ever the diligent member of Stray Kids, would fulfill his responsibilities with the group—recording vocals, practicing choreography, and participating in meetings—but his mind often wandered to Y/N. The moment his duties were done, he’d slip away, making his way to her art studio like it was his second home.

Y/N’s studio had become their sanctuary. The walls were adorned with sketches, mood boards, and half-finished concepts for Stray Kids’ upcoming album. The air was always filled with the soft music a mix of nostalgic classics and modern indie tracks. Seungmin would sit quietly in the corner, sometimes journaling, sometimes just watching her work. He loved the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way she bit her lip when she was deep in thought, and the way her eyes lit up when a concept finally came together.

“You’re staring again,” Y/N said one evening, not looking up from her sketchpad. Her voice was teasing, but there was a warmth to it that made Seungmin’s heart skip a beat.

“Am I?” he replied, feigning innocence. “Maybe I’m just admiring your artistic process.”

Y/N smirked, finally glancing up at him. “Admiring, huh? You sure you’re not just avoiding practice?”

Seungmin laughed, shaking his head. “Trust me, if I wanted to avoid practice, I’d find a better excuse than watching you draw.”

“Good to know,” Y/N said, her tone playful. “But seriously, don’t you have better things to do than hang out in my studio all day?”

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Nope. This is exactly where I want to be.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked back down at her sketchpad, pretending to focus on her work. But Seungmin didn’t miss the way her hands trembled slightly, or the way her breath hitched for just a moment. He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he let the comfortable silence settle between them, the music filling the space as they worked side by side.

Outside the studio, the rest of the group had started to notice the growing connection between the two. Mia and Jisoo exchanged knowing glances whenever Seungmin disappeared after practice, and the Stray Kids members weren’t much better.

“Where’s Seungmin?” Hyunjin asked one afternoon, glancing around the dance studio. “He said he’d help me with this part of the choreography.”

Mia smirked, not looking up from her notes. “Where do you think? He’s probably in Y/N’s studio, ‘admiring her artistic process.’”

The group erupted into laughter, and even Bang Chan couldn’t hide his grin. “Leave him alone,” he said, though his tone was light. “If he’s happy, let him be.”

The studio was alive with its usual energy, but there was an undercurrent of amusement that day. Everyone had noticed the growing connection between Y/N and Seungmin—everyone except the two of them. Mia and Jisoo, in particular, had taken to exchanging knowing glances whenever the pair was in the same room. Even the Stray Kids members, who were usually too wrapped up in their own chaos to pay attention, had started placing bets on how long it would take for the two to figure things out.

One afternoon, during a rare break, Mia leaned over to Jisoo, her voice low. "Do you think they'll ever figure it out?"

Jisoo smirked, her eyes flickering toward Y/N and Seungmin, who were sitting side by side on the couch, reviewing the latest edits for the music video. "Not if we don't give them a little push."

Mia raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye. "What did you have in mind?"

Jisoo shrugged, her smile widening. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a little nudge here and there. They’re both too stubborn to make the first move."

Mia chuckled, shaking her head. "They’re hopeless. But you’re right. Someone’s gotta do something before they drive the rest of us crazy."

Meanwhile, Seungmin was doing his best to focus on the edits, but it was nearly impossible with Y/N sitting so close to him. Their shoulders brushed every time one of them moved, and the warmth of her body next to his was driving him crazy. He could smell the faint scent of her perfume—something floral and sweet—and it was distracting in the best way.

"You know," he said, trying to sound casual, "we make a pretty good team."

Y/N glanced at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "We do, don’t we?"

Seungmin’s heart raced, but he forced himself to stay calm. "Yeah. I mean, we balance each other out. You’re all sharp edges, and I’m... well, I’m the charming one."

Y/N laughed, the sound music to his ears. "Keep telling yourself that."

Seungmin grinned, but inside, he was a mess. He wanted to tell her how he felt, to confess that he’d been falling for her for weeks now. But he was terrified of ruining what they had. And from the way Y/N was acting—her teasing smiles, the way her eyes lingered on him just a little too long—it seemed like she might feel the same way. But he couldn’t be sure.

Across the room, the rest of the team was watching them with amused expressions. Hyunjin elbowed Felix, nodding toward the oblivious pair. "How long do you think it’ll take them to figure it out?"

Felix shrugged, grinning. "At this rate? Forever. They’re both too stubborn."

Bang Chan, who had been quietly observing the scene, chimed in. "Maybe they just need a little push. You know, like in those dramas where the friends set them up on a fake date or something."

Jisoo, who had overheard, smirked. "Oh, trust me, we’re already on it."

Later that evening, as the group was packing up to leave, Mia and Jisoo cornered Y/N in the hallway. "Hey," Mia said, her tone casual but her eyes gleaming with mischief. "We’re all going out for dinner tonight. You should come."

Y/N hesitated, glancing back toward the studio where Seungmin was still packing up his things. "I don’t know... I was planning to finish up some work—"

"Nope," Jisoo interrupted, linking her arm through Y/N’s. "You’ve been working too hard. You need a break. And besides, Seungmin’s coming too."

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, and she quickly looked away, hoping they didn’t notice the way her cheeks flushed. "Oh. Well, I guess I could come for a little while."

Mia and Jisoo exchanged a triumphant look. "Great," Mia said, her smile widening. "We’ll see you there."

As the group gathered at the restaurant, Seungmin found himself seated next to Y/N, their knees brushing under the table. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and teasing, but Seungmin couldn’t help but notice the way Y/N’s eyes sparkled when she laughed, or the way her hand occasionally brushed against his when she reached for her drink.

At one point, Y/N leaned over to him, her voice low. "Thanks for coming tonight. I know you’re not big on group outings."

Seungmin smiled, his heart skipping a beat at the way she was looking at him. "I wouldn’t miss it. Besides, it’s nice to see you outside the studio for once."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away. "Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. I’m still a workaholic at heart."

Seungmin chuckled, his gaze softening. "I know. But even workaholics need a break sometimes."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. The noise of the restaurant, the laughter of their friends—it all disappeared, leaving just the two of them. Seungmin’s heart was pounding, and he could see the same uncertainty in Y/N’s eyes. He wanted to say something, to tell her how he felt, but before he could, the moment was broken by Mia’s voice.

"Alright, everyone! Group photo time!"

The night had been full of laughter and camaraderie, but as the evening wound down, the group’s plan was set into motion. Mia and Jisoo, along with the rest of the Stray Kids members, had conspired to make sure Seungmin was the one to walk Y/N home. They all knew it was only a matter of time before the two of them figured out what everyone else already saw—that they were perfect for each other.

As Seungmin and Y/N walked through the quiet streets, the city lights casting a soft glow around them, the conversation flowed effortlessly. They talked about everything and nothing—music, their favorite movies, the chaos of the studio, and even their childhood dreams. Y/N, who was usually guarded, found herself opening up in ways she hadn’t expected.

"You know," she said, her voice light but tinged with vulnerability, "I have this weird hobby. I collect vinyl records. It’s kind of a passion of mine."

Seungmin’s eyes lit up with interest. "Really? That’s so cool. I’ve always loved the sound of vinyl. There’s something so... authentic about it."

Y/N smiled, a hint of pride in her expression. "Exactly. It’s like you can feel the music, you know? It’s not just something you listen to—it’s something you experience."

Seungmin nodded, his curiosity piqued. "Can I see your collection sometime?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure. Why not? You’re already walking me home. Might as well come in."

When they arrived at her apartment, Y/N led Seungmin inside, her heart racing slightly. She wasn’t used to having people in her space, especially not someone like Seungmin. But as she showed him her collection of vinyl records, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. The records were neatly organized on shelves, their covers a mix of classic albums and obscure finds.

Seungmin picked up one of the records, his fingers gently tracing the cover. "This is amazing," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I didn’t know you were into this kind of music."

Y/N shrugged, trying to play it cool. "There’s a lot you don’t know about me."

Seungmin looked at her, his expression serious. "I’d like to."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. There was something in his eyes, something that made her heart race. She wanted to tell him everything, to let him in. But she was scared. Scared of being vulnerable, scared of getting hurt.

Seungmin seemed to sense her hesitation. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. "You don’t have to be afraid, Y/N. Not with me."

Y/N looked down at their joined hands, her mind racing. She wanted to believe him, to trust him. But it was so hard. "Seungmin, I..."

He waited, giving her the space to find the words. And finally, she took a deep breath and said, "I’m not easy."

Seungmin’s heart stopped for a moment, but he kept his expression calm. "I don’t care."

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away. "You don’t understand. I’m... complicated. I push people away. I don’t let anyone in. And I don’t want to hurt you."

Seungmin took a step closer, his voice soft but firm. "Y/N, I know you’re used to keeping people at arm’s length. But you don’t have to do that with me. I care about you. More than you know."

Y/N’s heart was pounding, and she could feel the walls she had built around herself starting to crumble. "Seungmin, I... I care about you too. But I’m scared. Scared of messing this up, scared of losing you."

Seungmin smiled, his thumb gently brushing over her hand. "You’re not going to lose me. Not unless you want to."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searching his. And in that moment, she knew. She knew that he meant every word, that he wasn’t going anywhere. And for the first time in a long time, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, she could let someone in.

"Seungmin," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I... I think I’m falling for you."

Seungmin’s heart soared, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. "Y/N, I’ve been falling for you since the moment I met you."

And then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a whisper of a touch, as if he was giving her the chance to pull away if she wanted to. But Y/N didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her hands finding their way to his shoulders as the kiss deepened.

The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the music that played softly in the background. Seungmin’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss became more passionate, more urgent. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, her heart racing as she lost herself in the moment.

The air in Y/N’s apartment was thick with emotion, the kind that made every breath feel heavier, every touch more electric. Their kiss had started softly, a tentative exploration of feelings they had both been holding back for so long. But as the seconds turned into minutes, the intensity grew, their lips moving together in a rhythm that felt both natural and exhilarating.

Seungmin’s hands trembled slightly as they rested on Y/N’s waist, his touch gentle but firm, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he held on too tightly. Y/N, on the other hand, clung to him, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as if she could erase the space between them entirely.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady their racing hearts. Seungmin’s eyes searched hers, his voice soft but filled with concern. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

Y/N smiled, her hands moving to cup his face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “This… you… it feels right.”

Seungmin’s breath hitched at her words, and for a moment, he just looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and affection. Then, slowly, he leaned in again, capturing her lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more deliberate. It was as if her reassurance had unlocked something in him, a floodgate of emotions he had been holding back for far too long.

Their movements became more urgent, their hands exploring each other with a newfound sense of freedom. Y/N’s fingers found the hem of Seungmin’s shirt, tugging it upward until he pulled away just long enough to discard it. His hands followed suit, gently removing her sweater and letting it fall to the floor. The cool air of the room brushed against their skin, but neither of them noticed—they were too consumed by the heat of the moment.

Seungmin’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made Y/N shiver. She tilted her head back, her hands gripping his shoulders as she whispered his name, the sound sending a jolt of electricity through him. He paused, looking up at her with a mixture of desire and reverence. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she reached for him, pulling him back into a kiss that was filled with all the words they hadn’t said yet. It was a kiss that spoke of trust, of vulnerability, of a connection that went beyond the physical.

As they moved toward the bed, their movements were slow and deliberate, each touch filled with intention. Seungmin’s hands roamed over her skin, mapping every curve as if he was committing her to memory. Y/N’s breath hitched as his fingers traced the line of her spine, her own hands exploring the planes of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.

When they finally lay down together, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of them, their bodies pressed close, their breaths mingling as they lost themselves in each other. Seungmin’s lips found hers again, his kiss tender but insistent, as if he was trying to convey everything he felt but couldn’t put into words.

Y/N’s hands moved to the waistband of his pants, her fingers trembling slightly as she hesitated. Seungmin noticed and pulled back, his eyes searching hers. “We can stop,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern. “Whenever you want, we can stop.”

Y/N shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. “I don’t want to stop,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “I want this. I want you.”

Seungmin’s breath caught at her words, and for a moment, he just looked at her, his heart swelling with affection. Then, slowly, he nodded, his hands moving to help her as they shed the last barriers between them.

As the night wore on, their passion ebbed and flowed, each moment filled with a sense of discovery. Seungmin’s hands were gentle but firm, his touch sending shivers down Y/N’s spine as he explored every inch of her. Y/N, in turn, clung to him, her nails digging into his back as she whispered his name, the sound sending a jolt of electricity through him.

When they finally reached their peak, it was with a sense of completeness, as if they had finally found the missing piece of themselves in each other. They lay together afterward, their bodies tangled, their breaths slowly returning to normal. Seungmin’s arms were wrapped around her, his chin resting on top of her head as he pressed a soft kiss to her hair.

The soft glow of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. Y/N stirred awake, her body still humming with the lingering sensations of the night before. For a moment, she lay still, her mind replaying the memories of their intimate connection, the way Seungmin had held her, touched her, whispered her name like it was the most precious sound in the world.

She turned her head slightly, her breath catching as she saw him lying beside her. Seungmin was still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, one arm draped loosely over her waist. His face was relaxed, the usual sharp edges of his features softened in sleep. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, her heart swelling with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Careful not to wake him, she shifted slightly, propping herself up on one elbow to get a better look at him. Her fingers hovered over his face, tracing the lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips without actually touching him. She marveled at how peaceful he looked, how vulnerable. It was a side of him she hadn’t seen before, and it made her fall for him even more.

As if sensing her gaze, Seungmin’s eyes fluttered open, his sleepy gaze meeting hers. For a moment, he just stared at her, his expression soft and unguarded. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, and he reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

“Morning,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks as the memories of the previous night came flooding back. “Did you sleep okay?”

Seungmin chuckled, his hand moving to rest on her hip. “Better than okay,” he said, his tone teasing. “Though I think you might’ve had something to do with that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” Seungmin said, his grin widening. He pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her forehead in a soft kiss. “But seriously, are you okay? Last night was… a lot.”

Y/N nodded, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “I’m more than okay,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity. “It was perfect, Seungmin. You were perfect.”

They lay there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside their little bubble feeling distant and unimportant. But eventually, the reality of the day began to creep in, and Y/N sighed, reluctantly pulling away.

“We should probably get up,” she said, though she made no move to actually leave the bed. “The others are going to wonder where we are.”

Seungmin groaned, pulling her back into his arms. “Let them wonder,” he said, his voice muffled against her hair. “I’m not ready to share you yet.”

Y/N laughed, the sound warm and melodic. “You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you,” Seungmin replied, his tone light but his words filled with meaning. He finally let her go, sitting up and stretching as he glanced around the room. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

Y/N shrugged, sitting up as well and pulling the blanket around her shoulders. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could grab breakfast and then head to the studio. We still have a lot of work to do on the album.”

Seungmin nodded, though his expression turned thoughtful. “About that… do you think we should tell the others? About us, I mean.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers twisting the edge of the blanket. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, it’s not like we’ve been subtle. They’ve probably already figured it out.”

Seungmin chuckled, reaching over to take her hand. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But still, it feels like something we should do. You know, make it official.”

Y/N smiled, her heart fluttering at his words. “Okay,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Let’s tell them. But maybe after breakfast. I’m starving.”

Seungmin laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her lips. “Deal. But first, shower. You’re not going anywhere smelling like that.”

Y/N gasped, playfully swatting his arm. “Excuse me? You’re one to talk!”

Seungmin grinned, dodging her next swipe as he climbed out of bed. “Come on, I’ll race you to the bathroom.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she watched him go. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this light, this happy.

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of Y/N’s apartment, casting a warm glow over the room. Seungmin and Y/N were in the middle of getting ready for the day, the easy rhythm of their movements a testament to the newfound comfort they had found in each other. Seungmin stood behind Y/N, his arms wrapped around her waist as she leaned slightly forward, tying her hair into a messy bun. His chin rested on her shoulder, his lips occasionally brushing against her neck in a way that made her shiver.

“Minnie,” Y/N said softly, her voice a mix of amusement and exasperation. “You’re going to make me mess up my hair.”

Seungmin chuckled, his arms tightening around her. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he teased, his voice low and warm against her ear.

Before Y/N could retort, the sound of Seungmin’s phone ringing cut through the quiet morning. He groaned, reluctantly letting go of her to fish his phone out of his pocket. When he saw Bang Chan’s name on the screen, he sighed and answered, putting it on speaker without thinking.

“Seungmin, where are you?” Bang Chan’s voice boomed through the phone, loud enough that Y/N could hear it clearly. “We’ve been waiting for you at the studio for over an hour. Are you still asleep?”

Seungmin winced, glancing at Y/N, who was trying—and failing—to stifle her laughter. “Uh, no, I’m not asleep,” he said, his voice slightly sheepish. “I’m just… running a little late.”

“A little late?” Bang Chan’s tone was incredulous, and in the background, the sound of the other Stray Kids members chiming in could be heard. “Seungmin, we have a schedule. You can’t just—”

Before Bang Chan could finish, Mia’s voice cut through the chaos. “Wait, is Y/N there too? Seungmin, are you with Y/N?”

Seungmin froze, his eyes widening as he realized the call was on speaker and everyone in the studio could hear. Y/N’s face flushed, and she quickly turned to him, mouthing, *“Hang up!”*

But it was too late. The boys erupted into a chorus of teasing, their voices overlapping as they tried to get more information.

“Seungmin and Y/N? Together? Since when?” Felix’s voice was filled with excitement.

“Oh, I *knew* it!” Hyunjin exclaimed, his tone triumphant. “I called it weeks ago!”

“Seungmin, you dog!” Changbin added, his laughter echoing through the phone.

Bang Chan, ever the leader, tried to regain control of the conversation. “Alright, alright, calm down. Seungmin, are you seriously late because you’re with Y/N? Do you know how unprofessional—”

Y/N had heard enough. She reached over and snatched the phone from Seungmin’s hand, her voice calm but firm as she interrupted Bang Chan. “Chan, we’ll be there in 40 minutes. Stop yelling at him. And tell the others to mind their own business.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, followed by a burst of laughter from the group. “Y/N, is that you?” Jisoo’s voice came through, tinged with amusement. “Wow, you’re already defending him. Cute.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, her cheeks burning. “We’ll see you soon,” she said, ignoring Jisoo’s comment. “Bye.”

She ended the call before anyone else could say anything, tossing the phone back to Seungmin, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Bossy,” he said, his tone teasing as he stepped closer to her. “I like it.”

Y/N shot him a look, though there was no real heat behind it. “You’re lucky I ended that call. They were about to roast you alive.”

Seungmin shrugged, his arms sliding around her waist again. “Let them. I don’t care what they say. As long as I have you, I’m good.”

Y/N’s expression softened, and she reached up to gently cup his face. “You’re such a sap,” she said, her voice filled with affection.

Seungmin leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a soft kiss. “Only for you,” he murmured.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of Y/N’s phone buzzing. She sighed, pulling away to check the message. “Mia says if we’re not at the studio in 15 minutes, she’s sending a search party.”

Seungmin groaned, resting his forehead against hers. “Do we *have* to go?”

Y/N laughed, giving him a gentle push. “Yes, we have to go. Come on, Minnie. Let’s get this over with.”

As they finished getting ready and headed out the door, Seungmin couldn’t help but smile. Despite the teasing they were bound to face, he felt a sense of contentment he hadn’t known before. With Y/N by his side, he felt like he could handle anything—even the chaos of their friends.

The studio was unusually quiet when Seungmin and Y/N walked in, each holding a coffee in hand. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, all eyes turned in their direction. The silence was deafening, the kind of quiet that made it clear everyone had been waiting for this moment.

Y/N, ever the picture of calm confidence, didn’t miss a beat. She turned to Seungmin, her lips curving into a soft smile, and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, just shy of the corner of his mouth. “See you later, Minnie,” she said, her voice light and casual, as if she hadn’t just sent the entire room into shock.

Seungmin, for his part, stood frozen for a moment, his cheeks tinged with pink as he watched her walk away toward her art studio. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, even as he felt the weight of everyone’s stares.

The silence lasted all of three seconds before the room erupted.

“WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!” Hyunjin shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

“Did she just—? Did he just—? WHAT?!” Felix stammered, his eyes wide as saucers.

Bang Chan, ever the leader, was the first to recover. He crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at Seungmin. “So. You two, huh?”

Seungmin shrugged, trying to play it cool, though the grin on his face gave him away. “Yeah. We’re… together. Officially.”

The room exploded into cheers and laughter, the boys clapping Seungmin on the back and teasing him mercilessly. Meanwhile, Mia and Jisoo exchanged a triumphant look before bolting out of the room, their footsteps echoing as they chased after Y/N.

In the art studio, Y/N was already seated at her desk, her sketchpad open and her coffee steaming beside her. She looked up as the door flew open, revealing Mia and Jisoo, both out of breath but grinning from ear to ear.

“You did it!” Mia exclaimed, slamming the door shut behind her. “You finally made it official!”

Jisoo clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “This is amazing! Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for this? We had a whole *plan* to get you two together!”

Y/N blinked, her pen pausing mid-sketch. “A plan? What are you talking about?”

Mia plopped down on the couch, her grin widening. “Oh, you know. The late-night studio sessions. The ‘accidental’ alone time. The walking-home-together thing. All of it. We’ve been scheming for weeks.”

Y/N stared at them, her mouth opening and closing as she processed this information. “You… you *planned* this?”

Jisoo nodded, looking far too proud of herself. “Every single detail. And it worked, didn’t it?”

Y/N shook her head, a laugh bubbling up in her chest. “You two are unbelievable.”

Back in the main studio, Seungmin was still being bombarded with questions and teasing from the boys.

“So, how long has this been going on?” Changbin asked, his tone full of mischief.

Just then, Mia and Jisoo burst back into the room, their faces glowing with excitement. “Guess what?” Mia announced, her voice carrying over the noise. “Y/N just found out about our plan!”

Seungmin’s eyes widened. “Wait, what plan?”

Jisoo grinned, crossing her arms. “The plan to get you two together. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Seungmin stared at them, his mouth hanging open. “You… you *planned* this?”

Mia nodded, looking far too pleased with herself. “Every. Single. Detail.”

Seungmin groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I knew we could’ve stayed in bed.”

The room erupted into laughter, the boys doubling over as Seungmin buried his face in his hands.

“Seungmin!” Felix gasped between laughs. “You’re killing me!”

“Stay in bed?!” Hyunjin repeated, clutching his stomach. “Oh, this is too good.”

Epilogue

The studio was alive with its usual energy, the hum of creativity filling the air as the group worked on finalizing the album. Seungmin, however, found his attention drifting. His eyes kept wandering toward the door of Y/N’s art studio, his mind replaying the events of the morning. The way she’d kissed him in front of everyone, the way she’d confidently walked away, leaving him to deal with the chaos—it all made his heart race in the best way.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He excused himself from the vocal booth, ignoring the knowing smirks from the other members, and made his way to her studio. When he reached the door, he leaned casually against the frame, his arms crossed as he watched her work.

Y/N was seated at her desk, her sketchpad open and her headphones on. She was completely absorbed in her work, her brow furrowed in concentration as she added intricate details to the album cover design. Seungmin couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She was so focused, so passionate, and it was one of the many things he loved about her.

After a moment, he cleared his throat, catching her attention. Y/N looked up, her eyes widening slightly in surprise before a soft smile spread across her face. She pulled off her headphones and set them aside. “Hey,” she said, her voice warm. “What’s up?”

Seungmin pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Just wanted to check on you,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes filled with affection. “You’ve been in here all day.”

Y/N shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “Just trying to get this design finished. You know how it is.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence as Seungmin stepped closer, his hands resting on the back of her chair. “So,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone, “I was thinking… tonight. Mine or yours?”

Y/N looked up at him, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What?”

Seungmin smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know. Where are we sleeping tonight? Mine or yours?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she let out a surprised laugh. “Seungmin!” she exclaimed, swatting his arm. “You can’t just say things like that!”

Seungmin chuckled, leaning down so his face was level with hers. “Why not? It’s a valid question.”

Y/N shook her head, though she couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”

His grin widening. “But seriously, what do you think? Your place is closer, but mine has better snacks.”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing as she looked up at him. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

Seungmin shook his head, his expression softening. “Nope. Not until you give me an answer.”

Y/N sighed, though there was no real annoyance in it. “Fine,” she said, her voice teasing. “Yours. But only because I’m curious about these so-called ‘better snacks.’”

Seungmin’s face lit up, and he straightened, looking far too pleased with himself. “Deal. But just so you know, I’m not sharing the good stuff.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “You’re such a dork.”

Seungmin leaned down again, his lips brushing against hers in a soft kiss. “Your dork,” he murmured.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she reached up to gently cup his face. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Mine.”

The moment was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly outside the door. They pulled apart just as the door swung open, revealing Mia and Jisoo, both wearing identical smirks.

“Are you two done being adorable yet?” Mia asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve got work to do, you know.”

Jisoo nodded, crossing her arms. “Yeah, save the lovey-dovey stuff for after hours.”

Seungmin groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You two are the worst.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she stood up.

#skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #seungmin x reader #seungmin #kim seungmin imagines #seungmin skz #stray kids seungmin #seungmin fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #kim seungmin x reader #Spotify

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starkeyslibrary · 2 days ago

Text

CHASING MAYBE

pairing: bsf!reader x rafe

word count: 3.1k

authors note: i had two similair requests in my inbox and decided to combine them! hope you don’t mind!! 🙈thanks for the requests! <3

The party was already packed when you and your friend strolled in – loud music shaking the windows, neon lights spilling across sweaty bodies, and someone already yelling about running out of White Claws.

You roll your eyes. “Five bucks says that’s JJ.”

Bri laughed beside you, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Ten bucks says he drank them all himself.”

“Fair.” You said, grinning as you linked arms with both Bri and Lex. “Now, ladies – remember the mission. Free drinks, good lighting and no catching feelings.”

Lex wiggled her brows. “Too late for you, babe. Someone’s already staring.”

You didn’t have to ask who. You already knew. Rafe Cameron, over by the pool table, was watching you like you hung the damn moon – same cocky smirk, same slightly tilted head like he was trying to figure you out.

You arched a brow. “Let him look. Doesn’t mean he gets to touch.”

You made your way through the crowd, laughing at nothing, catching attention like a walking power trio. Inside the kitchen, you grabbed a red solo cup and poured yourself something strong.

“Cheers to bad ideas,” Bri said, lifting her cup.

“To being the problem, not the plan,” Lex added

“To not catching feelings,” You said, clinking their cup.

Half an hour later, you were leaned against the counter, cup still in hand, while your friends danced in the living room. You were mid-scroll through your phone when you caught the stare. Again. This time, shameless.

“You keep staring, Rafey, I’m gonna start charging you,” you called over your shoulder without turning.

Rafe smirked, sauntering towards you with that damn smug walk like he’d just scored the game-winning shot.

“You wearing that just for me, sweetheart?” he asked, eyes dragging down your fit.

“Please,” you scoffed. “This is for me. You’re just collateral damage.”

He grinned. “Yeah? Funny, because you’ve been looking at me like you wanna cause some.”

“Only to your ego,” you fired back with a sharp smile. “It’s gotten dangerously swollen lately.”

Topper whooped from the background, and Rafe just shook his head, sipping from his own cup as he leaned a little too close.

This was your thing — banter with teeth, glances that lingered, touches that almost crossed a line. But it was always safe, always wrapped up in a joke. Neither of you pushed it. Yet.

Your gaze flicked to the sliding doors leading outside. “I need air. Try not to miss me too much.”

You didn’t wait for his answer — just walked out, letting the warm night air wrap around you. The backyard was dimly lit, the glow of the bonfire at the beach barely visible beyond the dunes. You took a deep breath and leaned against the porch railing, letting the music fade into background noise.

Behind you, right on cue — came his voice.

“You know I can’t let you have a dramatic exit without me,” Rafe’s voice came from behind you, smooth like sin and summer.

You didn’t turn around. “Not dramatic. Just needed space. Some of us don’t have a god complex that requires being at the center of every room.”

He stepped up beside you, looking out over the yard with a smirk. “I like your space better.”

That earned him a tiny smirk from you, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning fully. “Don’t get cute, Cameron.”

“Too late.”

You stood like that for a beat — close, the air between them humming with that something you never talked about. Rafe glanced over, studying your profile like he was memorizing it.

“You ever think about it?” he asked.

You finally turned to him. “About what?”

He was close now — closer than he should’ve been. “Us. You know… what’d happen if we stopped pretending.”

You blinked, heartbeat stuttering for half a second — not because you were shocked, but because finally. You tilted your head.

“That almost sounds like you want something serious, Rafe. Which would be cute if I didn’t know you better.”

His grin faltered just barely. “Maybe I want you.”

You laughed softly. “You want the chase, baby. And you’re good at it. But I don’t fall for pretty lies.”

You turned to walk down the porch steps when—

“Y/N—” he said, just a little rougher.

You stopped.

And then he was there again, closing the space, hand reaching gently for your wrist, spinning you to face him. He looked at you like you were fire and he was tired of being cold.

You stood like that — eyes locked, lips a breath apart, the air buzzing around them. His hand cupped your cheek this time, hesitant but wanting.

You didn’t pull away.

He leaned in slowly, eyes flicking to your mouth—

“RAFE! Yo, Rafe! Get your ass over here, man!”

Topper.

You pulled back fast like you’d been slapped. Rafe blinked, visibly torn for one second — and then, just like that, the mask slipped back on.

He stepped away. Shrugged.

“I’ll be right back.”

And just like that, he walked off — no sorry, no explanation. Gone.

You stood frozen for a second, chest tight, eyes narrowed.

Then you scoffed under your breath and turned back toward the street.

He wasn't gonna play you like that again.

Not this time.

You texted Bri.

“I’m done. Catch an Uber?”

You didn’t text him the next morning.

You didn’t snap him back. Didn’t like his dumb story of him and Kelce trying to fix a golf cart either.

And when he called once, then twice, you declined the second one and didn’t bother replying to the “u good?” that followed.

You were good. Just not with him.

Instead, you were at Bri’s place, legs tangled with yours on the couch, a greasy slice of pizza in one hand and Lex painting your nails a dangerously sharp red on the other.

“I’m just saying,” Lex said, blowing on your nails, “if he wanted to kiss you, he would’ve. And if he didn’t want to be an ass about it… well, same logic.”

You snorted. “Amen.”

Bri reached for her water, slumped on the floor. “I never liked him anyway. His jaw is too perfect. Feels like a trap.”

“It is a trap,” you muttered, staring at your phone lighting up again with his name. You silenced it. No reply. Again.

Lex raised a brow. “Still trying?”

“Three missed calls and a ‘u good?’ text,” you said with a fake-sweet smile. “Very emotionally intelligent.”

Bri made a gagging noise.

Rafe was unravelling.

It took him less than 24 hours to realize something was off — and even less time to get pissed about it.

You had been nothing but cold, collected and absolutely untouchable. So when he saw you at the dock two days later he pulled up next to your Jeep, window down, Ray-Bans perched low on his nose.

“You avoiding me?” he asked through his car window, voice all lazy confidence. But his grip on the steering wheel? White-knuckled.

You didn’t even look up from your phone. “That depends — are you used to girls waiting around after you ditch them mid-moment?”

Rafe blinked, caught off guard. “Okay, damn. You’re still mad about that?”

“Oh, still mad?” you snapped, shoving your phone in your bag. “Didn’t know there was an expiration date on being disrespected.”

He grinned, trying to defuse — or distract. “Babe, you’re dramatic.”

“And you’re exhausting,” you fired, standing up. “You don’t get to flirt with me like that, act like you want something real for half a second, and then just walk away like it didn’t happen.”

He leaned out the window a little, face hardening. “It’s not that deep.”

“Then maybe you should find someone who floats.”

You didn’t wait for a reply, you turned just in time for your friends to pull up in Bri’s Mazda, blasting SZA and waving dramatically out the windows.

Rafe watched as you slid into the passenger seat without another glance his way.

Lex flipped Rafe off with a grin when Bri peeled out of the lot.

Rafe just sat there, blinking, while you threw your head back and laughed with your girls, loud and unbothered.

That night, Rafe didn’t go to the usual bonfire. Neither did you.

But the next one? He was there early. Already sipping a beer, eyes scanning the crowd every five seconds.

You looked incredible. Dress, silky, short and painted with a bold floral print – clung in all the right places and dipped daringly low at the neckline. You stepped onto the beach like the main event — glowing, confident, and completely unbothered.

Rafe’s jaw practically hit the sand.

You saw him.

And walked right past.

Every time he tried to talk to you, Lex intercepted, or Bri pulled you into some fake emergency — “I need your opinion on this guy’s shoes, it’s life or death.” Rafe wasn’t used to working this hard. He wasn’t used to being ignored.

Rafe found you alone, near the edge of the party where the music didn’t quite reach. Just like before.

He approached slower this time. No swagger. No stupid grin.

“Y/N.”

You didn’t turn. “Didn’t Topper call your name again?”

He exhaled a laugh, but it came out a little bitter this time. “Okay. I deserved that.”

“No, Rafe. You deserved worse. But I’m tired.” Your voice dropped just slightly — not sad, just... done. “I’m not playing this game with you anymore.”

“I wasn’t trying to play,” he said, stepping closer. “I just— I panicked, alright? You kissed me back.”

“No,” you said sharply, eyes finally on his. “You almost kissed me. Then you left. Don’t twist it.”

He looked at you, jaw ticking, searching for something in your face. “So what? You’re done with me?”

“I’m done waiting for you to decide if you mean anything you say.” You paused. “You want me? Prove it. You want to joke around and run back to your boys every time things get real? Then stay out of my way.”

And with that, you walked away again — this time, not with bitterness, but with clarity.

Rafe stood there alone, mouth tight, heart pounding.

Rafe didn’t text. He didn’t call.

He showed up.

Unannounced, mid-afternoon, while you and your girls were poolside at Lex’s — laughing, lounging, and collectively trying to forget boys existed.

You spotted him before anyone else. You knew that shape, that posture — shoulders tense, chin tilted like he had something to prove.

“Is that Rafe?” Bri muttered.

Lex sat up, shielding her eyes. “Wow. Man really wants to be humiliated in broad daylight.”

You took a slow sip of your drink. “He’s already halfway there.”

But you stood up anyway.

Because no matter how furious you was, how much he hurt you, he wasn’t just some guy.

He was Rafe. Your Rafe. Your best friend. The one who used to sneak you snacks during detention and swore you’d never catch feelings for each other.

And now here you were.

“You really have the audacity,” you said flatly, meeting him at the gate.

Rafe looked at you like you still hung the moon. Like he didn’t remember you used to tell him exactly when to stop flirting so you wouldn’t fall for him. Like he hadn’t just made the dumbest choice of his life two nights ago.

“I had to see you,” he said.

“You had to ditch me mid-kiss first.”

“That wasn’t— I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“You didn’t mean to? Rafe, you and I have been best friends since we were kids. You think I don’t know when you’re lying to yourself?”

“You pulled away like you were embarrassed,” you went on, voice quiet but cutting. “Like I was just another drunk mistake.”

“You are not a mistake.”

“Then why’d you leave like one?”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I panicked, okay? I didn’t expect it to feel that real.”

“We’ve always been real,” you snapped. “You just finally couldn’t hide it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been sorry since the second I walked away.”

You crossed your arms. “And now what? You think one apology’s gonna fix a broken friendship and the fact that you shattered something that might’ve been more?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to fix it,” he said.

You tilted your head. “You better, Rafe. Because this isn’t just about flirting anymore. You don’t just lose me as a maybe. You lose me as your person.”

He stood there, quiet.

And when you walked back through the gate — back to your girls, your peace, your new boundary — Rafe didn’t follow.

He finally understood this time, he’d have to earn you back.

Rafe didn’t come back the next day. Or the day after that.

And you? You didn’t chase. You said your piece. You had nothing to prove. Let him sit with the silence — with everything they almost were.

But on Friday night, something shifted.

You were heading home from Bri’s when her phone buzzed. A text.

“Come to the dock. Just you.”

No name. Didn’t need one.

You almost didn’t go.

But curiosity is a dangerous thing — especially when it’s tangled in history and heartbreak and a boy who once made you believe forever could exist between best friends.

The dock was quiet. Moonlit. The water still.

And there he was. Hoodie, hands in his pockets, heart practically written across his face.

You didn’t say anything as you stepped onto the wood.

He didn’t speak either — just gestured to the blanket he’d laid out. Two drinks. A box of your favorite cookies. And something else sitting next to it.

A photo. The one from that dumb Halloween party freshman year — you in fairy wings, Rafe in devil horns, both of you grinning like idiots.

“I found it in my drawer,” he said quietly. “Been sitting there for years. I look at it sometimes. Always thought we were just… messing around. Having fun.”

You folded your arms, guarded but listening.

“But looking at it now?” His voice cracked slightly. “I was gone for you. Even back then.”

You didn’t respond. You waited.

“I messed up, I know that,” he said. “But I didn’t come here to ask for things to go back to normal. Because they can’t. And I don’t want them to.”

You raised a brow. “What do you want, then?”

Rafe stepped forward.

“I want more. I want us. No more games. No more pulling away when it gets real. I want to be someone you trust again. Someone who shows up.”

He hesitated. “And I know I lost that right. But if there’s even a piece of you that still wants this... I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give. Just—don’t shut the door all the way. Please.”

Silence stretched.

The water lapped gently against the wood.

Then—softly, finally—you spoke.

“You don’t get to come back just because you finally figured out what you want.”

Rafe’s jaw tensed. “I know.”

You stepped closer. “But you came back anyway. That’s a start.”

For a long moment, you both just stood there.

And then, for the first time in what felt like forever—you let your guard down. Just a little.

Rafe looked at you. “So… we good?”

You smirked. “We’ll see.”

Then like always, he smiled back, cocky and warm and yours in all the ways he never admitted before.

Two weeks later

“You’re seriously wearing that?” You asked, brows arched behind your sunglasses as you stared Rafe down in the Target parking lot.

He looked down at his plain white T-shirt and black athletic shorts, then at you — black cropped tank top hugging your figure, light-washed denim shorts and gold hoops shining in the sun. “What’s wrong with this?”

“You look like you jogged here and forgot it was a date.” You popped the trunk of his car. “Get the bags. We’re doing a picnic and you’re not embarrassing me in front of the ducks.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rafe muttered, grinning as he grabbed the cooler. He didn't argue. He never argued anymore. Not with you.

You laid out the blanket under a willow tree at the park, spread out the snacks like a curated charcuterie board, and even lit one of those tiny portable candles from your purse. Rafe just watched you, utterly gone, leaning back on his elbows while you cut strawberries like it was an artform.

“You’re smiling,” you said, glancing over.

“I like watching you boss me around,” he said, deadpan. “It’s hot.”

You snorted and tossed a grape at his face. “You’re such a simp now.”

“I was before. Now I’m just allowed to show it.”

Later, they lay side by side under the tree, your head resting on his chest, one leg thrown over his like you owned him — which, arguably, you did.

“You still scared?” you asked quietly, fingers tracing shapes on his bicep.

“Terrified,” Rafe replied, voice low. “But it’s worth it.”

You leaned up slightly, eyes searching his. “Why?”

“Because I’m not just your best friend anymore.” His hand found you waist. “I get to kiss you now.”

You grinned, lips brushing his jaw. “Damn right you do.”

So he did.

Slow, warm, nothing rushed — just mouths pressed together like they had all the time in the world. You tasted like lip balm and peach lemonade. He tasted like want and sunscreen.

“Still afraid?” you murmured when they broke apart.

“Of you? Always.”

“Good.” You kissed him again, rougher this time. “Keeps you humble.”

EXTRA:

Rafe Cameron was sitting on a pink blanket at a Sunday morning yoga in the park class, sweating through his overpriced tank top while an instructor told him to open his heart center and “embrace the divine feminine.”

You, completely serene beside him, reached out mid-pose to fix his form.

“You’re stiff,” you whispered.

“I’m dying,” he whispered back.

You grinned and kissed his cheek. “You love it.”

“I love you,” he muttered. “This is Stockholm Syndrome.”

“Mm. That’s not what you said last night when you made me breakfast at midnight.”

He just groaned and reached for his water bottle. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

You leaned in close, lips at his ear. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you’re whipped.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled like an idiot. “I’m whipped.”

“Good boy.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron angst #outer banks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe x bsf!reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #obx rafe cameron #drew starkey imagine #drewstarkey #drew starkey

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sometimesoliloquy · 24 days ago

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THT Is a Love Story

(Yeah I said it. And I'll tell you why.)

In the very bittersweet context of being in the middle of the final season, and with the knowledge of all the press notes/directional spoilers out there ramping up to the finale, I’ve been thinking a lot about The Handmaid’s Tale as a a whole. What it’s about, at its core, and what would accordingly make for a truly satisfying ending. Margaret Atwood’s novel, of course, has presented a disturbing and brilliantly crafted political commentary and cautionary tale since its debut in 1985: the bleak but ultimately hopeful story of an ordinary woman’s survival trapped in a cold and cruel extremist regime where human rights (and particularly women's rights) are a thing of the past, made possible by environmental ruin and the everyday apathy of ordinary people. The show is that too, of course. It’s also at it's core a story of loss, perseverance and ultimately revolution. But moreover what weaves all the themes together in a truly compelling way: I think at essentially the very heart (fittingly), it is a love story. Not just in the most obvious romantic sense, but on so many broader levels. It’s a love story of parents and children, of family (born and chosen), of human connection. It’s a love letter to the perseverance of the human spirit, the ability of the heart to expand and evolve, the triumph of light over dark in the soul and in the world at large. And dancing at the center of it from the very start (and enduring against incredible odds) has been Nick & June: yes, the very epitome of epic, passionate romance with a capital “R”, but also on a deeper level, the symbolic and tangible embodiment of all of the above.

I’ve also been reflecting a bit on some of the things the show’s writers and producers have been saying about the ending and the last season in general, like how it has been “crafted with viewers in mind more than ever” and focused on “delivering a rewarding conclusion for the audience.” They’ve also hinted at a purposeful harkening back to the very first season and touching on all the seasons in between. All of this would have me believe they are paying close attention to staying consistent with the repeated motifs of the show, and striving for satisfying, full circle cohesiveness AND catharsis in the end. With this in mind, I wanted to go back and explore how the ever-present and echoing theme of love is depicted through the words of the characters themselves. Namely here, a trio of major power players since the beginning: June, Nick, and (in the opposing corner) one Mr. Fred Waterford.

…

June:

"What else is there to live for?"… "Love." - 1x05 "It’s lack of love we die from." - 3x05 "Nichole, she was born out of love. Her father’s a driver named Nick… he helped me to survive." - 3x05 "It’s too dangerous” "No it isn’t… at least someone will remember me… at least someone will care when I’m gone. That’s something." - 1x08

June believes in love. This is made clear from the very beginning and is one of the core tenets of her character. It’s not a “nice to have” and it’s not something she’s able to separate from herself, even in Gilead, a place where love is essentially forbidden, where it should feel impossible. It is framed by her as essential to life itself, like water or oxygen. It’s what she credits her very survival to. Moreover, she believes that love is worth dying for, it’s that vital to her. If June stops fighting for love, stops believing in the power of or perhaps even the very existence of love, who is she then? How depressing and devoid of hope would that ending be? Sure, the June we bid farewell to at the end of 6x10 will inevitably not be exactly the same June we met in 1x01, but given the consistent through narrative, we should expect this core value of hers to remain steady, if not indeed grow in conviction.

...

Nick:

" Love is patient, love is kind... Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, endures all things. Love never fails." - 2x05

It’s fitting that it’s Nick who reads this passage in the show because perhaps more than any other character, Nick’s love throughout has been the very epitome of the verse. We’ve seen his actions play it out literally line by line. Nick knows his Bible verses. He picked this one for a reason, his (barely) coded Hail Mary message to June: I’m still here, this isn’t over, please don’t give up on us. Nick believes the words he reads to her, believes them to his very soul, and he continues to show it in his efforts season after season, demonstrating the constant and undying nature of his devotion. It’s notable that in fact, the full 13:8 verse reads "Love never fails, but where there are prophecies they will cease, where there are tongues they will be stilled, where there is knowledge it will pass away," emphasizing love as the one true thing that remains.

"I’m trying to keep you alive. You and our baby" - 2x02 “I’m trying to keep you alive" - 4x02 "I just want her to stay alive"- 4x03 "She changed you, she changed me" - 4x03

It’s Nick's love for June (and Nichole) that drives him more than anything else, and we see the real, tangible reverberations throughout the story. June and Nichole are safe, alive and free (at least in part) because of his love. Nick is changed because of this same love. And June’s love saves him from a life lacking in meaning, purpose and true connection. If Nick fully turns to "the dark side", if he becomes somehow irredeemable (particularly in June's eyes), it would negate in the cruelest and most nonsensical way all of this, and in one fell swoop rip to shreds the hopeful rainbow of his cumulative character arc.

...

Fred:

"Love isn’t real. it was never anything but lust with a good marketing campaign" - 1x05 “Every love story is a tragedy if you wait long enough." - 1x05

Fred on the other hand, scorns the idea of love. His cynical, contemptuous views are presented as the antithesis to June's quite early on. In rose-glass tinted flashbacks of early life with Serena, we see glimpses that this may not have always been the case, but what was once their love story has indeed turned to tragedy: corrupted into a bitter, twisted thing under the weight of the monster they created together. In the present, he does not believe in love and the selfish callousness of his actions (in stark contrast to Nick) clearly shows it, over and over again. To Fred, 1 Corinthians 13 is just a silly meaningless little verse (of no more consequence than the vapid old fashion magazines he "gifts" to June) in the book that he uses, not as a guide or an inspiration, but as a weapon: a cudgel to wield for his pathological ego-driven power trips, no matter how many must suffer (including his once beloved wife), how many innocent lives it ruins or much how it blackens his soul.

...

If in the final episodes Nick were to be exposed as a “true villain” who ends up burning June (and in fact his soul) in favor of “power and prestige”, then Fred will have been proven correct all along, and we (like June) will have been stupid to ever believe in love.

- If Nick truly decides to throw away everything he's done, everything he's held close to his heart even at his own peril all these years, to remain in a dismal teeter totter of emotional pain and privilege in Gilead;

- If June refuses to forgive, to endure, to truly fight for Nick as he's fought for her;

- If they truly flame out in epic betrayal and irreparable rupture:

Then we will know love has failed. And Fred was right. Love doesn’t save, it destroys. Love doesn’t endure, because in fact it was never even real to begin with. Love isn't the ultimate reason and purpose, but a tragedy. A lie.

That's not the story. That CAN’T BE the story. Fred doesn’t win. He was so dead wrong that he is now dead and buried for it. He eschewed love a long time ago and it warped him into a depraved, cruel shell of a human with acts so heinous under his belt that we all cheered as he was hunted down and the flesh savagely torn from his body, because he deserved it.

No, this isn’t The Debased Delusional Small-Weak-Man Commander’s Tale. This is not the story of how Fred was right after all.

This story is love endures all things. This story is love never fails. This story is love lifts us up, love saves us and gives us the will to fight. And that (someday) a child conceived in love in this brutal place and saved by the love of her parents will unite with her long-lost but dearly loved sister to burn it to the ground.

They may want the viewers to believe that it’s possible for Nick to be irrevocably lost for the drama of it all; for the shock of the reveal, the reckoning and the emotional payoff when the ship rights itself. And I’ll keep my clown makeup handy in case I end up being astonishingly wrong, but I just can’t see how they would so blatantly, not just blow up the story, but in doing so essentially erase the very core of the story we’ve been told up til now.

(just look at them, don't you fucking dare break up this family for good!)

*screencaps/captions sourced by me*

#osblaine #tht is a lovestory #fight me #thanks for coming to my ted talk #love never fails #nick x june #my roman empire #june osborne #nick blaine #fred waterford #the handmaid's tale #tht show #tht s6 #tht s6 spoilers #meta post

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puppys-rhythm-heaven · 2 years ago

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just found this tag i put on a post the other day.

the only real constants of life are clappy trio, sneaky spirits, space dance, night walk, rap men and tap trial being referenced-

#puppy rambles #rhythm hell #clappy trio #sneaky spirits #space dance #night walk #rap men #tap trial #power calligraphy isn't referenced in ds 😔#freeze frame more like reference heaven. clappy trio sneaky spirits rat race space dance rap men ninja bodyguard and (presumably) tap trial #(and also showtime in remix 3)#i think it's fair to assume the monkeys are meant to be from tap trial #granted there's three and not two but the other references are all to tengoku games so-#i like how megamix's way to still make the racing fans cover the whole part of the screen they're supposed to #was just duplicating the space dancers and monkeys hdfsgfbvbfj-#i mean. it works. still funni tho-

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cloudyynebulas · 3 months ago

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HIHI I HAVE A REQUEST!!!

Ok so may I please request a first meeting fic with crunchy chip x shy reader who is shorter than him?? Since crunchy chip is already very short it would be surprising for him to meet someone even smaller

bonus if this is a first meeting fic!!

double bonus if reader had never had friends before, so they are a little suprised and scared

triple bonus if it’s like the trope where they both like each other but nobody actually confesses

❝ 𝗦𝗘𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗, 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗘! ❞

crunchy chip cookie x reader.

reader is gender neutral.

this takes place during the events of cookie odyssey.

⋆° .☾ ⋆ .ೃ ࿔* : ⋆

LIFE IN THE LOWER-HALF OF THE REPUBLIC was not a paradise. Far from it, really. Cookies who lived in the lower half often struggled to get by, with shady crooks and criminals around every corner.

You grew up in this life, raised with a family who did everything in their power to support you. Despite the harsh conditions, you all continuously managed to scrape by - even making a few shady trades and deals every now and then.

Secrets whispered and danced around each and every alleyway, amidst the musty air of suspicion and dampness.

Cookies from the higher levels of the Republic often dreaded taking one foot in this place, muttering distasteful insults and incomprehensible nonsense that you could only guess were hateful remarks stabbing at you and the rest of the lower half.

Could you be bothered to care much anymore? Not.. really. You spent your entire life living in such conditions, and with time came endurance. You kept up your botherless facade, hiding behind a mask of your true self - someone who was afraid of the world.

Years of constant teasing, insults and other things thrown your way made you build up a decent tolerance, but no matter how many years of this treatment went in and out of your head, it didn't change the fact that you - deep down, were insecure. Insecure and afraid.

But the only way to survive here was to act tough. Don't show weakness - don't show fear.

Your hand rested on your cheek, propping your face upward as your face was plastered with a bored expression, standing behind a wooden stand that offered various goodies and toys for passersby to stop and take a look at.

With your family away on some sort of trip, you were essentially left alone to run the stand, to keep money flowing in. You recalled that your mother was hesitant of the idea, but after reassurance from both you and your father, she ultimately agreed to let you be on your own.

You were an adult. You could handle yourself, anyway.

..Probably.

Behind the stand, you stood on a medium sized wooden crate, holding you up to extend your height so that you'd be tall enough to properly grab any items and greet customers properly. Your height was laughable - a size that you were constantly picked on by many as you'd roam the damp streets.

You weren't exactly tall - no, scratch that, you were far from tall. You were just barely taller than the average teenager - but that wasn't saying much.

You assumed your dough was just .. smaller. A smaller batch. That was all it was.

But the constant teasing or the occasional side-eye that was thrown your way was one of the worst things about it.

Your hands tightly clenched together into fists. Your brain just thinking about it all made anger bubble into your dough - your thoughts wandering.

However, your thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of voices - voices you certainly hadn't recognized or heard before. The Lower Half of the Republic typically had the same Cookies day after day, with the rare occasion of a Cookie from the Upper Levels stopping by for who knows what.

A trio, from what you could guess - was walking down the streets of the Market. A small gingerbread Cookie with a candy cane in his hand, a tall, gruff armored cookie with a metal gauntlet, and a smaller cookie with an attire of blacks and whites, woolly clothes and sharp claws attached to his hands - alongside a cream white wolf following beside him.

You raised a brow.

You'd.. certainly never seen these Cookies before.

"Wow.." you heard the Gingerbread cookie let out a gasp of awe, eyes looking all around the Market street. "So this is where one of the big Markets are?"

The armored one nodded. "It would appear so. Although this place seems rather... sketchy."

"This place gives me a vibe that I don't like!" The woolly cookie spoke - though his voice was almost loud enough to be considered shouting. "Cream Wolf! Check to see if you can smell any of those White Mask Cookies."

The Cream Wolf barked in response, it's nose vibrating up and down as it was quick to sniff the area, trying to discern any suspicious scents.

You sweatdropped. What in the world was going on here?

Various Cookies of the Market side-eyed the trio that clearly stood out like sore thumbs. Cookies that weren't from here - outsiders, most likely.

Most backed away from the furry animal that would get up in their personal spaces, growling and sniffing for scents of the supposed "white masked cookies" you heard the small Cookie mention moments prior.

You felt yourself slightly freeze up in surprise when the animal's eyes turned towards you - its next target. You instinctively took a step back, which only inclined the Cream Wolf to approach faster.

You paled. You really didn't want to get caught up in any of this nonsense -

bark!

You squeezed your eyes shut, hands slightly trembling, but after seconds of nothing actually happening, you slowly cracked one of them open.

The wolf was sitting in front of your stand, eyes clearly fixated on one of the squeaky toys you had sitting out for sale. Your eyes glanced between the toy and the wolf - the dots connecting silently in your mind.

Oh.

OH!

Slowly, you reached for the toy, your movements being watched intently by the wolf - whos tail began to wag, expecting you to throw the toy for him to catch and bring right back to you.

"HEY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING??" an alarming voice is suddenly yelled in your direction, and both you and the wolf turn to the right, where the trio stood, heading right your way.

You felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of your face. You hadn't meant to attract attention -- !!

"Cream Wolf! Don't fall for these sly tricks!" the small Cookie grumbled, said wolf being beckoned back towards him, though its eyes were constantly looking back at the small squeaky toy still in your hands.

"Err.. Crunchy Chip Cookie? I don't think they were trying to do anything.." the small gingerbread Cookie nervously chuckled, trying to calm his companion down.

..Huh.. so now you knew one of their names. You took mental note of that.

"I have to agree with Gingerbrave here. Besides - we don't want to be attracting unwanted attention, especially not here." the armored cookie frowned, sending you a glance. "Apologies if we startled you."

You felt yourself being thrown on the spot, not really knowing what to say.

Crunchy Chip Cookie, however, was immediately up close in front of your stand, gaze looking you up and down.

"Just what exactly were you planning with that weapon of yours, huh?" he interrogated, eyebrows furrowing. "Don't think you can fool me! I just know there's some kind of secret evil bomb inside!"

You tried to speak, hoping to defend yourself. "I-"

"Crunchy Chip Cookie, seriously." The armored cookie huffed. "You're clearly startling them."

"We can't just be accusing random Cookies - !!" the gingerbread - or, Gingerbrave, as you heard the armored Cookie mention, agreed. "I think.. it's just a toy."

The Cream Wolf let out a small bark, eyes excitedly staring between the squeaky toy and Crunchy Chip Cookie, as if trying to send a message to him.

Crunchy Chip Cookie hummed in response. "..Hm. Well.. if it was a weapon, I'm sure my Cream Wolf would've smelled it by now."

You glanced to the side for a moment, internally cringing at the sight of passerby Cookies observing the scene - eyes constantly staring at you.

"You don't seem like much of a threat, anyways!" Crunchy Chip Cookie chuckled, placing his hands on his hips.

You deadpanned.

Okay, now you felt a little insulted.

"Hey now - I can be a threat!" you blurted out, your thoughts escaping into words. "Just 'cause I'm small doesn't mean I can't beat you up."

The trio stared at you.

You were quick to regret running your mouth, letting confidence get the better of you.

Gingerbrave frowned. "..You don't look small! You stand .. rather tall behind your counter."

"They are standing on a crate," the armored Cookie quickly informed. As the tallest of the trio, it only made sense that he'd managed to see the small crate you'd been standing on just behind your counter.

"Wait, really?" Gingerbrave hummed, slowly glancing behind your counter. "Oh - Wildberry Cookie, you're right!"

"Can you not?!" you glared, making Gingerbrave quickly step back, sending a nervous, apologetic smile your way.

"Why are you faking your height?" Crunchy Chip Cookie questioned. "Look at me! I may be shorter, but that doesn't stop me from being a warrior!"

You frowned. "If I didn't stand on this crate, I wouldn't be able to reach most of the items."

Crunchy Chip Cookie scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous! You might be short, but not that short!"

"Are you doubting.. my height???" you deadpanned. "Fine then - I'll demonstrate, just for you."

You hopped off of the crate, landing on the damp concrete beneath you. The upper half of your body was still visible over the counter, but everything else was far too short and covered by the counter.

The trio stared with slight surprise - though, Crunchy Chip Cookie's gaze was rather startled.

"NO WAY!" he yelled, immediately waltzing right up to you. "You're - shorter than me?!"

Wildberry Cookie hummed. "This is... new."

"Quickly! Wildberry Cookie, Gingerbrave, compare our heights, now!"

How did you even get into this situation?

Within seconds, you found yourself standing back to back with Crunchy Chip Cookie, whilst Gingerbrave and Wildberry Cookie were observing, comparing your heights together - whilst his Cream Wolf sniffed at your arm.

"Crunchy Chip Cookie.. you're no longer the shortest!" Gingerbrave laughed, holding his candy cane staff in the air.

"HA! Now you guys can't pick on me!!" Crunchy Chip Cookie raised his fist in the air with pride. "Take that, Wildberry Cookie!"

"..I haven't even said anything," Wildberry raised a brow, but the corners of his mouth curled up into a small smile.

"I feel like I'm being picked on.." you frowned.

"What? Nonsense!" Crunchy Chip Cookie turned to you. "There ain't nothing wrong with being short!"

"We did not intend for it to come off that way. Apologies." Wildberry Cookie apologized, crossing his arms.

Gingerbrave nodded - but was quick to shift the topics.

"..Say, what's your name, stranger? We've never gotten it!"

You stared - surprised. Why were these strangers being so kind to you, a mere Lower Level Republic Cookie? Asking for your name of all things.. were they trying to befriend you? Why?

Slowly, your name escaped your lips. "..Y/N Cookie. My name is Y/N Cookie."

"Y/N Cookie! That's such an awesome name!" Gingerbrave beamed. "You may've already heard it, but the name's Gingerbrave!"

Wildberry Cookie nodded. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Wildberry Cookie."

"Crunchy Chip Cookie!" Crunchy Chip Cookie announced, placing a hand over his chest. "I am a sworn warrior of the Dark Cacao Kingdom!"

He turned his head to the Cream Wolf.

"And this is my best friend - my Cream Wolf!"

The Cream Wolf lets out a small bark in response.

You find it hard to hold back a smile. Gaze softening at the sight of the trio, finding yourself no longer regretting the encounter between you four.

"We must keep moving, however." Wildberry Cookie spoke, ending the introductions. "We're.. on a mission of sorts. I believe Espresso Cookie is expecting us, soon."

"Already? But it feels like we just got here!" Crunchy Chip Cookie frowned. "We haven't yet fully explored these areas!"

"I'm sure we'll get more time to do so later!" Gingerbrave reassured.

You let out a light chuckle, stepping back onto the wooden crate behind your stand.

"If you three have places to be - don't let me stop you."

Your hands moved towards the squeaky toy left on the wooden counter, slowly picking it up, before turning to Crunchy Chip Cookie.

"Though, before you go, take this."

Before the Cookie had anytime to refuse the gift, you'd already tossed it his way, the toy fumbling in his hands momentarily before landing carefully in his palms.

"Something for the road - on the house!" You smiled, a small wink escaping your expression. "It seemed like your Cream Wolf there really wanted to play with it."

"Cream Wolves don't play such foolish games!" Crunchy Chip Cookie refuted, but between the three of you, you all knew he was lying.

"..thank you, though." Crunchy Chip Cookie softly muttered, pushing his woolly scarf closer to his face as he spoke, looking away from you.

You chuckled, waving the trio goodbye as they began to make their way back out the streets of the Lower Market and back towards the Central Republic.

You had a feeling you'd be seeing them again soon.

⋆° .☾ ⋆ .ೃ ࿔* : ⋆

When the trio had finally reached the Fountain, Crunchy Chip Cookie suddenly spoke up.

"After we meet with Espresso Cookie, we better go back."

"You seem in a rush to get back there, Crunchy Chip Cookie!" Gingerbrave pointed out. "Any particular reasons?"

"To - to keep exploring, duh!" Crunchy Chip Cookie huffed, looking to the side.

Wildberry Cookie softly chuckled.

"Whatever you say."

#cookie run x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run kingdom x reader #crunchy chip cookie x reader #crk x you

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deadsetobsessions · 1 year ago

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Headmaster Dumbledore is sure that the ghosts of Hogwarts were hiding something. He’d be the first to admit that he’s nosy when it came to things like these, but he simply doesn’t have the time. Whatever that lingered these halls, he’s sure does not mean Hogwarts any harm. The ghosts would not protect it if it did.

Albus Dumbledore Hummer around a lemon drop as his quill scratched over endless parchment paper.

His wand glowed green for a brief second, an acknowledgement, and settled down into its current owner’s hold.

——

Danny Phantom hadn’t thought the castle he found during the summer months in this universe would be… so full of life. Not when there were ghosts, floating around like the castle were their own home.

Magic.

They were ghosts made of magic.

His core struggled, at first, to survive. Then, it took the magic and thrived.

He floated, invisible amongst the glittering candles beneath the imitated night sky, and watched students file in.

Quite different, from his own entrance.

He had floated into the tower, having felt a hint of resistance that he knew now were the castle wards. The ghosts, what he thought were ghosts before he realized ectoplasmic ghosts existed, stopped dead. Hah.

The shades dancing and whirling and conversing froze as he entered the tower. Life and death, and the beings that walked the line, stopped at the arrival of the One Who is the Line. The boy king wreathed in black and green glanced around.

“Hello. I’m Phantom.”

“The High King,” a ghost whispered. “Our king.”

“He’s an American?” Another one asked, scandalized. Danny, surrounded by those who he recognized as his, cracked the first smile he’s had in a while.

“Who cares? He’s…” The knight sunk to his knees, bowing with his ghostly sword in front of him.

The ghosts bowed. Danny floated in further. “Can you tell me where I am?”

“Of course.”

——

Now… he’s watching the children get Sorted. Weird, for a hat to decide your classmates, but whatever.

Harry Potter’s name is called, and the whispers broke out. He doesn’t know why, but Danny couldn’t ask the ghosts. They barely know the current headmaster, as the dead generally care only for their own times.

Danny decides to visit the lake octopus. Lake squid? Something like that. The mer people beneath the waters liked him, the last time he went. The Sorting is put out of Danny’s mind. He’s dead now, too. The only thing he cares about now is to explore the vast halls of Hogwarts and the occasional visit to the kitchen to steal some food for his living body.

(Thank the Ancients he found a house elf who knew what seasoning was.)

(Sometimes, Danny flew to where his home would have been and gets comfort food at the nearest town. He missed it, but he can’t go back.)

The ghosts know by now to call for Phantom should they need something (“I’m American,” he joked at the ghost. “We’re not big on kings. You can just call me Phantom.”)

——

The third year he’s there, Danny feels the effects of Clockwork’s power. When he investigates, it’s the red headed girl he once saw leaving the library, paper clutched in her hand.

She helped save one of his subjects, so he owes her. Plus, if she’s using Clockwork’s powers, this Hermione has potential.

And… she’s using it to study.

She reminds him of Jazz.

——

A wave of ice crackled and froze the fleeing rat and the feral wolf man.

“What?!” Harry screeched to a stop, eyes wide at the ghost child in front of him.

Danny turned, and landed gently on the ground. Snape snarled at him in suspicion. Danny allowed himself to become living again, black hair and blue eyes and tan skin replacing the white, green, black thing his dead form had.

“Who’re you?” The red-headed boy, Ron?, asked him through gritted teeth.

Danny smiled at them, dimples appearing. “A friend.”

Before the trio and co. could say anything, Danny whips his head around, palm coming up.

“Stop.” He orders. The creeping sense of cold and dread shuttered to a stop. “Go over there,” he said, and the dementors, hovering at the edge of his periphery obeyed. Danny turned back to the mildly terrified and flummoxed group.

“Let’s go. You’re all going to catch a cold, if you don’t move it. Especially you, scrawny and greasy.” He pointed at the godfather and Snape.

——

“Hey, Danny?”

“What, Harry?”

“Why’d you help us? I mean, you said you didn’t want to involve yourself in stuff like that.”

Danny hummed, wisped tail curling up against him as he soaked in the sun’s rays. “Because you reminded me of myself. And in the end, you died.”

“You literally brought me back,” Harry deadpanned, remembering the place between life and death, and how the angry Danny was when he stormed onto that train platform. The King had taken him by the scruff of his shirt collar like a particularly incensed mother cat, and dragged him off away from a puzzled Dumbledore.

“You were being stupid. You’re too young to die.”

“Like you?”

Danny snorted. “Nah. I didn’t have a choice.”

#danny phantom #harry potter #no I don’t like j.k. Rowling nor do I support her views #Danny is sad ghost boi in Hogwarts #he’s got a magical core now but through like adaptation and osmosis or some shit #magic simply doesn’t work on him bc he’s a ghost adjacent #Danny is the mom friend #you wouldn’t think so but he is #totally an enabler but also a mom #Hermione being Clockwork’s fav

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heedeungsha · 6 months ago

Text

TRIO `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

+ Content warning(s): fluff, relationship with danceracha, Leeknow’s girlfriend!reader, Hyunjin’s girlfriend!reader, Felix’s girlfriend!reader, dancer!reader

Danceracha as your bf!danceteacher

. ⋆౨ৎ˚

Lee Minho

Leeknow was your dance teacher before your boyfriend-I mean, it is how you guys met. You were merely a trainee and he’d secretly been watching you outside the dancer room practicing alone, before finally growing the courage to help you. He watched intensely behind you, leaned up against wall while studying your mirrored reflection. You keep your eyes trained forward, so you don’t get distracted by the way his muscles flex when he crossed him arms over his broad chest. It’s a set up and he knows it too, slowly walking up to you without a word as he places his hands on your waist, twisting your body the correct way.

Leeknow’s strict with teaching choreos but luckily, he doesn’t go hard on you like he does his members. “No, try again,” He’d yell out from behind you and you’d do as he said. “No try ag-“ he’d call out not even 5 seconds later. “Leeknow!” you’d sigh, dropping your hand your side just before earning a toothy smile from him. He’d joke around a lot to lighten the thick hot air filling the practice room.

Leeknow would kiss your forehead, “Good job, baby. Next time, try this.” He’d show you how to prefect the step before backing up to let you do it on your own. Despite his stringent teachings, he’d hold in a laugh every time you fell on your ass from moving too fast. You’d pout, feeling frustrated with the step you’re stuck on and he’d come over to pick you up-after laughing up a storm in the corner.

Leeknow would pat you on the ass each time you got the choreo right, and they quickly become rough. His hand would then stay there as he turned you against the mirror, and made out up with you. It was like his way of letting you know you did good. “Same time tomorrow?” He’d joke, knowing he’d be more strict just to tease you.

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin was one of those teachers that took over, showing you how to dance the choreo the right way-with powerful charisma. He’d make you sit back and watch him dance first . His feirceful sharp movements were attractive, highlighting his passionate dancing skills. His duality when he danced was jaw dropping-it’s insane how he’d go from to cute and giggly to intense and serious once the song started playing. That’s what attract you to him in the first place, before finding the courage to talk to him after catching him alone in the practice room without his members.

“Okay your turn love,” Hyunjin would pull you to the middle to learn the choreo with him. “5, 6, 7, 8..” the chorus would play and he’d begin dancing, and you’d follow his movements. As you slowly start to get it, your cheeks would heat up everything he’s attack you with kisses, encouraging you to keep getting better. “You’re doing so good love,” he’d shower you with warm praises.

Hyunjin would study the way your body moved, correcting you whenever you missed a step or did it wrong. He was also your teacher first, knowing how important dance was to you. He loved that you didn’t take offense to his advice and it only fueled you to become a good of a dancer as he is. By the end of it, you were both a sweaty mess, his long blond hair glued to his forehead and his ends sticking to his neck and yours in a ruffled bun. He was irresistible, rolling his sleeves up while showing off his muscular arms. “Focus love,” he’d snap his fingers at your gawking and laugh a storm when you rolled your eyes. He’d help you practice all day until you got it right and picked you up, twirling around the room with you in his arms when you did.

Lee Yongbok

Felix is patient with you. He still remembers he’s your boyfriend after all. To him, he’d met you outside of being an idol, being your dance teacher was just a bonus to be around you everyday. His the kind of dance teacher that makes learning a new chore fun. He’d crack jokes to make you laugh when you miss a step in the routine or tease you, and plant kisses every time you remembered a step. “Princess, it’s okay,” he assured you when you feel frustrated with the choreo. He’d give you space as the practice room grew hot or stood off to the side as he danced with you lazily. Still, you’d catch him smiling at your progress.

Felix would slowly show you, softly holding your waist so you didn’t hurt yourself as he guided you movements. “When you turn, you have to move with the beat, follow the flow princess,” he coos in your ears as he explains how to do a certain step which left you blushing at the thought of his lips against your skin. He’d only laugh, patting your ass to make you focus. He knows how you’re a slow learner so he takes his time with you, making sure you understood everything he said. Apart from being your dance teacher, he’s your proctector first—watching you attentively and quickly running before you can hit the ground.

“Let’s maybe take a break and get some food. I don’t want my princess to stress herself out.“ Felix says, trying to lighten the mood when you get frustrated with how long it’s taking you to learn the choreo. He’d buy you your favorite ramen and once you were full, he’d make an excuse to go home and sleep before going back to the practice room to start again.

. ⋆౨ৎ˚

I enjoyed writing this a lot! Something small and cute. Send more requests (🐹)

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cactus-cuddler · 9 months ago

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Hi there!! I’d like to request a Natasha story :)

For this I’d like to imagine the reader can’t sleep so they decide to go get some tea or something to help them sleep. But when they come to the living room before the kitchen, they see Natasha’s already there - and she’s dancing.. but not ballet. Natasha’s tap dancing. In her pajamas. And since… since when did she get tap shoes?

Basically I’d just love a fluff piece where Natasha’s a tap dancer and the reader has a massive crush on her, and it ends with a kiss and Natasha just being a super sweet flirt :)

Thank you so much for the request, I hope you like it @caitlinsnow-yayyy <3

𝑻𝒂𝒑 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒔

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Word count: 1,9 k

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Plot: You, Natasha and Wanda have been best friends since high school but you feel something more than friendship with Natasha. One night, unable to sleep, you head to the kitchen but you hear strange noises from the living room

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Warnings: just fluff

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Author's note: English is not my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes

It’s the middle of the night, and the apartment is quiet. Everyone should be asleep, but here you are, tossing and turning in your bed.

You, Natasha Romanoff, and Wanda Maximoff have been roommates since high school, always inseparable. Your bond is something special, but lately, your feelings for Natasha have grown beyond friendship. Every time you’re near her, there’s an undeniable spark, a pull that makes you want to close the gap between you. But the thought of risking your friendship—and the trio that means so much to you—holds you back. You can't bear the idea of creating tension that Wanda would undoubtedly sense, or worse, the possibility of Natasha pulling away from you.

Unable to sleep, you finally give in and slip out of bed, putting on your slippers to head to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Your room is the central one; Natasha’s is to your right, where you assume she’s sound asleep, and Wanda’s is to your left, though it’s empty tonight since she’s staying at Vision’s place.

As you pass through the living room, you hear a rhythmic sound that piques your curiosity. It’s mesmerizing, almost like a melody, growing louder as you approach. You quietly bypass the kitchen, following the sound to its source. Carefully, you open the door and are momentarily blinded by the light. When your eyes adjust, you see a head of red hair spinning and tapping gracefully across the floor.

Natasha is tap dancing.

You freeze, utterly captivated by her. The way her feet glide across the floor, the way her body moves in perfect harmony with the rhythm—it’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen. There’s something so enchanting, so breathtaking about watching her in this unguarded moment. Her movements are fluid, powerful, yet there’s a softness in the way she loses herself in the dance. You can’t tear your eyes away, feeling as if you’re seeing a side of Natasha she’s never shown anyone before.

But as you lean in to watch more closely, the door creaks, and you stumble into the room, startling Natasha and causing her to stop mid-step.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you say quickly, scrambling to your feet, your heart pounding in your chest. “You’re amazing, Nat. Why didn’t you tell me you could dance like that?”

Her blue eyes meet yours, and you see her cheeks flush the same shade as her hair. Embarrassed, she looks you over to make sure you’re not hurt, and you smile at her concern, though your mind is still reeling from what you just witnessed.

“Why are you still up?” she asks, trying to change the subject in that way she does when she’s feeling shy.

Instead of answering, you find a burst of courage and gently take her hands. “Dance with me!” you say, your heart racing. You’ve dreamed of this moment for days—dancing with Natasha, close enough to feel her warmth, and it’s just an innocent request between friends… right?

She hesitates for a moment before smiling softly. “Promise you won’t tell anyone you caught me tap dancing?”

You lift your pinky, grinning. “Only if you tap dance for me.”

Natasha chuckles and takes your pinky with hers in a playful promise. She leads you to the couch and sets you down before stepping into the open space she’s cleared in the living room. As she begins to dance again, her movements are even more fluid, more confident now that you’re watching. You can’t take your eyes off her—she’s absolutely breathtaking.

The way she moves is hypnotic. Each step she takes is perfectly timed, a graceful blend of strength and elegance. Her red hair sways with each turn, catching the light as she twirls, and you’re struck by how beautiful she looks in this moment—so free, so alive. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you watch her, overwhelmed by the emotions you’ve kept bottled up for so long. This is the Natasha you’ve fallen in love with—the one who dances like no one is watching, who carries so much grace and fire within her.

As the rhythm flows, she reaches out and takes your hand, encouraging you to stand. “Come on, try to follow my feet.”

You attempt to mimic her steps, but your feet seem to have a mind of their own, making awkward, clumsy sounds against the floor. Natasha laughs, not unkindly, and squeezes your hand.

“Wait here,” she says, disappearing into her room. When she returns, she’s holding a pair of tap shoes that she hands to you. To your surprise, they fit perfectly.

“This move should be easy,” Natasha says, demonstrating a simple step. You try to copy her, but the sounds you make are far from harmonious.

“You’re too stiff,” she observes gently. “Relax, let your feet do their thing.”

You close your eyes, trying to focus on her advice, but all you can think about is how close she is, how her scent fills the air, how her hands feel in yours. Somehow, despite your racing thoughts, you manage to move your feet, and when you open your eyes, Natasha is beaming at you.

“Good job!” she exclaims, her voice full of pride.

You laugh, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the dancing. The two of you continue, Natasha patiently guiding you through the steps until you’re both breathless and laughing, collapsing onto the couch in a heap of exhausted contentment.

As you sit there, side by side, you realize that maybe—just maybe—moments like this are worth the risk to confess your feelings.

“How long have you been dancing?” you ask her between sighs.

“Since I was little, but no one knows except my parents,” she confesses.

You fall into a deep silence. You’re close, terribly close. Your shoulders touch as do your legs, and though you should move away, you can’t bring yourself to. Natasha rests her head on your shoulder, and your heart starts pounding, your cheeks growing warmer by the second. It’s not from the dancing; it’s her—she’s the one causing all this.

“Dancing with you was beautiful,” she whispers, her scent enveloping you as her soft, smooth hair brushes against your cheek.

“Because I had a good teacher,” you murmur, barely audible. You slide your hand behind her back and start playing with her hair, letting your fingers glide through the silken strands. Minutes pass, stretching into what feels like forever, and being this close to someone who’s supposed to be just a friend is almost too much to handle. You feel the urge to tell her everything, to confess your feelings, but the fear holds you back.

“Sorry, Natasha, I’m feeling sleepy now,” you say, searching for an excuse to escape to your room and lock away the overwhelming emotions that threaten to spill out.

She lifts her head from your shoulder and looks at you, confused. You seem agitated, your mind clearly elsewhere. You try to get up, but she grabs your hand and gently pulls you back down, this time into her arms.

“Rest your head here,” she says, patting her thighs. “Do you remember in high school? We’d sit on the grass, and you’d lay down with your head on my lap while you pointed out the clouds.”

You can’t help but smile at the memory. Back then, your feelings for Natasha weren’t as intense as they are now.

You do as she asks, lying down with your head on her lap. As she starts to gently caress your hair, your heart flutters, your stomach filling with butterflies. Her touch is so tender, so calming, that you can’t help but close your eyes and let the moment consume you. When you roll over to face her, you find her already looking at you, a soft smile on her lips. Her lips—the ones you’ve dreamed about for so long, the ones you’ve longed to feel against yours. You can’t keep this inside any longer.

“Nat,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

She shifts slightly, her expression curious but open. “What is it?”

You take a deep breath, the words trembling on the tip of your tongue. “I… I’ve been trying to keep this to myself because I didn’t want to ruin anything between us. But the truth is, I care about you—more than just as a friend.”

Natasha’s eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, you fear you’ve overstepped. But then, she squeezes your hand, her thumb brushing gently over your knuckles.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” she says softly, her voice steady but with an edge of vulnerability. “I’ve felt the same way for a while now… I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Relief washes over you, mingled with an overwhelming sense of joy. You smile, and Natasha mirrors it, the tension that once lingered between you dissolving into something warmer, deeper. Without thinking, you lean in, and she meets you halfway.

The kiss is soft, tentative at first, like the beginning of a new dance. But as you both realize that this is real, that you both want this, it deepens, becoming a silent promise between you.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting together, you both laugh quietly, the sound filled with a mix of happiness and disbelief.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of doing this,” Natasha confesses, her voice trembling slightly. Your smile won’t fade—it can’t, not with the realization that someone as incredible as her feels the same way.

“So I haven’t ruined our friendship?” you ask, the last shred of doubt clinging to your thoughts. You need to hear it again, to make sure this isn’t just a beautiful dream you’ll wake up from.

Natasha’s expression turns serious for a moment, her eyes locking onto yours. “I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” she says, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your smile falters, panic flooding your veins as the implication of her words sinks in. Your eyes begin to sting with the threat of tears.

But before you can spiral any further, she reaches up to cup your cheek, wiping away the tear that’s escaped. “No, baby, don’t cry,” she murmurs, her voice soft and reassuring. “I don’t want to be your friend because I want to be your girlfriend.”

The relief that washes over you is so intense, it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs. Her words are like a balm to your heart, healing the fear and doubt that have kept you silent for so long. When she leans in to kiss you again, it’s not hesitant or unsure—it’s filled with the sweetness of a love that has waited too long to be spoken aloud.

This kiss is different. It’s not just the tentative brush of lips but a deep, slow connection that feels like coming home. Her lips are warm and soft, moving with yours in a rhythm that’s as natural as breathing. You lose yourself in the moment, in the way her hands cradle your face, in the way your heart finally feels at peace.

The next morning Wanda comes into the apartment and sees you sleeping on the couch. Your head is resting on Natasha's chest and Natasha's hand is on your back, she fell asleep caressing it. On your lips a smile lights up your face.

Your friend looks at you with a maternal tenderness in her eyes, she had been waiting for you two to declare your love for a long time. She takes her phone out of her bag and takes a picture of you and then goes to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for everyone to celebrate your love.

Thanks for reading♡

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