#Get out of here!!!! I don’t wanna do that!!!!

[flwrstqr]

◟ LOVER ⟡​ WHEN THEY ADMIRE THEIR GIRL

𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝒍𝗦 ᪲ 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋? 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍

❪ 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 ❫ ｡ boyfriend!enhypen & fem!rea. 7OOwc. ୨୧ established relationship fluff ✶ petnames skinship bad down enha . . ˊᯅ�� 𝑙’ click

다니 ⠀⦂ my daily schedule of posting back 💌 i hope you guys enjoy ! bad down enhypen, we all needed

LEE HEESEUNG ( when you're talking )

heeseung leans back against the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other tracing slow circles on your palm of your hand as you ramble about your day, eyes sparkling with every little detail. he’s not even listening—not really. he hums here and there, nodding like he’s keeping up, but the truth is, he’s too busy watching you, completely entranced. the way your lips move, the way your nose scrunches when you get excited, the way you gesture with your hands—it’s all too cute. “you’re so pretty when you talk, you know that?” he murmurs suddenly, smirking as you pause mid-sentence, caught off guard. his fingers squeeze your hip, pulling you closer. “keep going, baby, don’t mind me. just enjoying the view.” his gaze flickers to your lips, and his grin deepens when you roll your eyes. god, you’re adorable. he might just be obsessed.

PARK JAY ( fixing your outfit )

jay leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he watches you fuss over your outfit, fixing your collar, smoothing out your pants. you look perfect—always do—but the way you're so focused, brows slightly furrowed, makes his heart ache in the sweetest way. “baby, you could wear a paper bag and still be the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, pushing off the frame to step closer. his hands find your waist as he twirls you effortlessly, eyes drinking in every inch of you like you’re a masterpiece. “mm, perfect,” he hums, fingers brushing under your chin to tilt your face up to him. “not that you needed fixing.” his thumb traces your cheek. “my princess,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead before spinning you once more, just to see you smile.

SIM JAKE ( when you're doing makeup )

jake leans against the vanity, arms crossed, eyes locked on you like you’re the most mesmerizing thing he’s ever seen. “you know, baby, you don’t even need all that,” he murmurs, a lazy grin stretching across his lips as he watches you blend out your concealer.. “but if it makes my girl happy, who am i to complain?” his voice is teasing, and when you shoot him a playful glare through the mirror, he chuckles, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “so pretty,” he grins. “it’s actually unfair how bad you make me wanna kiss you right now.” his fingers tilt your chin, eyes flickering between your lips and your gaze. “you gonna let me, sweetheart? or do i have to sit here and suffer?”

PARK SUNGHOON ( when you tie his tie )

sunghoon stands still, letting you smooth out his collar, fingers deftly working the silk tie into a perfect knot. he doesn’t say a word—just watches. watches the way your brows furrow slightly in concentration, the way your lips part ever so slightly, the way you’re so effortlessly close. his hands find your waist, resting there as if it belongs there (it kind of does). but really, he’s just so weak for you. “you’re staring,” you murmur, not looking up, but you feel it—feel the weight of his gaze. he doesn’t deny it. doesn’t even blink. and when you finish, giving his tie a light tug to pull him closer, something in him snaps. “forget it,” he exhales before pressing his lips to yours, one hand cupping your cheek, the other holding your waist like he’ll never let go.

KIM SUNOO ( when you're smiling )

sunoo watches you with that soft, dreamy look in his eyes, completely mesmerized by the way your lips curve into that radiant smile. his heart flutters, the same way it did the first time he saw you smile like that. “how do you do that, baby?” he murmurs softly, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek as if committing the moment to memory. he’s memorized that smile by heart, the way your eyes crinkle ever so slightly and how your dimples peek through. it’s his favorite thing in the world. “you’re so pretty, angel.” he whispers, almost to himself, as his fingers tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “my angel,” he adds.

YANG JUNGWON ( when you're wearing his hoodie )

he’s supposed to be working—really, he is—but you’re sitting there on his bed, drowning in his hoodie, legs curled up as you scroll through your phone, and he’s useless. completely useless. “you know, i don’t think you understand how unfair this is,” he muses, voice low, teasing, as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed. you glance up, raising a brow, but he just smirks, tilting his head. “i’m supposed to be working, but my pretty girl decides to steal my hoodie and sit there looking like that? kinda cruel, baby.” you roll your eyes, but he catches the little smile you try to hide. “seriously,” he continues. “so good you’re forgetting to work?” he huffs a laugh, pushing his laptop aside. “work can wait. come here.”

NISHIMURA RIKI ( when you're asleep )

the credits are rolling, the room bathed in the soft glow of the tv, but riki isn’t paying attention—his eyes are glued to you, fast asleep against his shoulder, lips slightly parted. the movie ended a while ago, but he hasn’t moved, too busy watching the slow rise and fall of your chest, the way your lashes flutter every now and then. and maybe—just maybe—he leans in, just a little, lips barely hovering over yours, just to steal the tiniest kiss— but the second his breath fans against your lips, your eyes snap open. “caught you,” you murmur, and riki freezes, wide-eyed. “were you seriously about to kiss me in my sleep?” he scoffs, pulling back immediately. “pfft, no. as if.” but the tips of his ears burn red, and when you smirk, reaching up to flick his forehead, he knows he’s never living this down.

[rafesangelita]

♡ cowboy!rafe surprises farmer’s!daughter!reader with a picnic date!

warnings: fluff, sneaking around, suggestive language

a/n: cowboy!rafe hasn’t made an appearance on here for a minute so this is long overdue. i’m actually planning something super exciting (a farmer’s!daughter!reader series) that i think all of you will love <3 as always, i now have a private community where we could discuss anything and everything, so just leave a comment, ask, or message me if you’d like an invite!

rafe has been acting strange all morning. from finishing up his work earlier than usual, disappearing into the field of trees for an extended period of time, to running back and forth out of the house with paper bags and a pitcher full of lemonade you made just yesterday, you couldn’t help but let your curiosity get the best of you. skipping down the old wooden stairs, you made your way out back where rafe was using his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.

“what are you doing? i’ve been watching you from my window this whole time.” rafe turned, looking around to make sure no one could see you two. “hey.. do you know what time your old man is coming back home?” you shook your head, reaching up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips. “no, but we should still have some time left..” you trailed off, feeling your cheeks heat once rafe gave you that smug grin of his.

“yeah? wanna give this cowboy a ride?” rafe leaned down, his nose running along the underside of your jaw, “i don’t know, you look a little tired..” you teased him, giving him a soft nudge as he lead you out of the back house. “i actually wanna show you something,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, leading you to where he spent the morning setting up a picnic date, your eyebrows knitting in confusion, “i know i’ve been working a lot but i wanted to do a little somethin’ special for you,” you two kept on walking until you stepped into a small clearing, the quilt lying on the ground catching your attention.

you gasped once you saw the homeade bouquet sitting in the center. “rafe cameron, you did not!” you emphasized his full name, throwing your arms around him. “this is just too cute!” you squealed, immediately taking a seat and taking the bouquet in your lap. in it was daisies, sunflowers, and baby’s-breath. it was absolutely perfect. “do you like it?” he watched you admire the flowers, the sunlight’s rays gently peeking through the trees and casting it’s glow onto your surroundings. “i love it, really,” you glanced at him, “this is so sweet, i don’t think my heart could take it.” rafe laughed, opening up one of the paperbags to show you the contents.

“so as you can see here; this is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but— this isn’t your ordinary jelly..” you scooted closer, peering down at the piece of bread. “remember when you were telling me that you missed your mom’s strawberry jam?” you gasped, your eyes instantly welling with tears. “well, it turns out that your dad had the recipe written down somewhere for safekeeping, so i made it for you.” he handed you the sandwich, the gooey sweetness dripping onto your finger.

popping a digit into your mouth, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia, the taste taking you back to when you were just four years old and eating lunch after coming back in from playing outside all afternoon. “this is perfect, rafe,” you pecked his cheek, “seriously, this is the most precious thing anyone has ever done for me..” rafe smiled, his eyes softening at your words. “i’m glad, sweetheart, i’ll keep this in mind for the next one.”

[brainrotthemusical]

nah cause you fucked jeff bezos but you don’t remember that cause you got lobotomized but now he’s here asking if you’ve had enough chinese food in a really judgy way and it should be insulting but also you’re getting some VIBES and thinking “is jeff bezos sexy? why do i wanna make out with him? i better get back home to my halfway done reverse lobotomy”

Imagine scarfing down chinese food like a rabid animal only for jeff bezos to come and sit next to you and insult your dead wife, so you go home and get a lobotomy about it

[hughes-your-daddy]

Juno

pairing: luke hughes x singer!reader

warning: slightly suggestive, fluff, swearing

summary: you’re performing in new jersey with luke, his family and team in attendance

luke shuffles through the crowd, everyone following in tow since he knows his way around these events with your security. some of them occasionally stop for pictures with some of the fans, exchanging friendship bracelets some for him and some for you which he happily accepts, before they make it to the vip tent in the middle of the arena.

everyone shuffles into it, like finding the front middle seat, nervously awaiting for you to come onstage.

“you excited?” quinn asks bumping his shoulder, decked out in your merch.

“i think he’s more nervous than y/n.” jack chirps, swinging his arm around the other side of luke.

“she’s never performed here before, and considering we’re usually playing her it’s kinda nerve wracking.” he says looking around the prudential centre.

“crazy how it turns into a concert venue.” nico awes, a smile across his face as he looks about. they’re mid convo before they get interrupted by the lights going down, the intro video playing on big screens.

you stand nervously side of stage ready to run on to do your entrances, towel wrapped tight around you ready for the surprise. you run on your cue hearing fans erupt in cheers before coming to a halt centre standing, covering the lights with your hand to look out into the crowd.

hearing the beginning of taste play you let the first few bars go, locking eyes with luke in the vip tent smiling slightly before revealing your body suit for the night, a red, white and black striped body suit with the number 43 on your nude tights, hearing the crowd go crazy.

you giggle to yourself at the reaction before beginning the show. it’s goes amazingly, feeling the insane vibes from the crowd you get to one of your favourite part of the show where you get to arrest someone before juno.

you walk out with your two backup dancers, coming down to the front of the stage “thank you guys so much for coming out tonight, you’ve been incredible, but all night i’ve been seeing this guy,” you smile staring at luke, as the crowd turns to the tent.

“girls come here, come here.” you say hurrying over to the middle, “hey there, what’s your name?” you ask acting clueless, seeing luke blush, as the others around him shout luke, as he appears on the screen with “arrest” written around him, sirens going off.

“luke? oh my god wow,” you giggle, “how are you?” you ask, seeing him beam back at you, giving a thumbs up.

“i’m overwhelmed, like i knew you were beautiful, but i didn’t know you were that gorgeous.” you smile, seeing the others chirping him.

“guys somethings happening to my body, and, oh my god you’re making me so hot, my clothes are falling off,” you say, your skirt falling down to reveal a shorter one, “and oh my gosh guys i don’t know what to do with myself?” you ask the dancers as the you hand you the pink fluffy handcuffs.

“i’m just gonna have to arrest you for being too hot.” you smile, a hint of sarcasm in your voice, handing the pink fluffy hand cuffs to the security guard who takes them up to luke.

you see him go bright red, his parents watching as the beginning kicks in. dancing round the stage you perform the song having the time of your life before getting to your favourite part.

“wanna try out some freaky positions?” you sing, running up onto the hydraulic, sending a smirk luke’s direction before kneeling down into the famous hockey player stretch.

“have you ever tried this one?” you sing, bouncing a few times before spinning around onto your knees to keep singing.

the crowd goes wild and you can see luke’s friends and brothers riling him up in the vip tent.

you finish the song and a few more before heading off stage to get ready for your final number.

you quickly change into your final outfit a little surprise for luke.

the small platform on the stage rises, coffee cup in hand and the crowd goes wild seeing you wear a number 43 new jersey devils hockey jersey.

you sing and dance your way through the final number before hitting your final pose, seeing the vip tent empty meaning they’re probably waiting backstage.

“thank you new jersey, you’ve been wonderful as always.” you smile, waving and blowing a few kisses before heading off stage, handing your mic to the technicians pulling out your in ears and letting them hand down over your shoulders, heading backstage, seeing a large crowd of friends and family waiting, luke at the front.

they spot you walking down and begin to cheer, causing you to duck your head before doing an exaggerated curtsy and heading straight over to luke.

he wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the ground slightly as everyone goes back to their own conversations.

“you were incredible baby,” luke whispers in your ear before setting you down.

“you like the outfit?” you ask, as he takes your hand and spins you, before pulling you back in by the waist, one hand remaining there, the other on your cheek.

“mmh, you drive me insane.” he whispers, his lips against yours before pulling you in for a kiss. you hear some of the boys chirping him, as he pulls one hand away shooting them the middle finger, before unexpectedly he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

“luke!” you squeal, as he walks towards your dressing room. the two of you giggle until he makes it to your room, setting you down before he sits on the small couch.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you smirk, seeing his eyes take your body.

“honestly, i’d do so much more, but we’re heading out to celebrate with the others.” he smiles, pulling you in between his legs by the back of your thighs.

“nothing to say we can’t have a little fun at home, i have a day off tomorrow.” you smile, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“y/n my mom and dad are staying with us, i love you but i can’t when they’re in the house.” he says, a small blush creeping on his cheeks as he lets out a small laugh, “but seriously, you were amazing, i have no words to describe it. i just, i seriously love you.” you smiles, looking up to meet your eyes, his hands resting on your waist.

“i love you more,” you smile before he stands back up.

“ok, gimme your in ears ill take them for you.” he smiles, already turning you to help you unhook it from your bra.

he gently takes them off before heading out, giving you one last kiss before you get changed.

you quickly change into some low-rise baggy jeans and a small white cropped top, before quickly brushing out your hair and topping up your makeup, slapping a cap on, grabbing your bag and heading out.

you say hi to everyone else, standing to wait with the hughes family.

“thanks for having us y/n, was a really fun night.” quinn smiles, giving you a big hug followed by jack.

“honestly, never seen like so happy in his life.” jack chirps causing yous to laugh.

“speaking of luke, where is he?” ellen asks, and just in time he returns, standing beside you, hand in his.

“all set.” he smiles down at you before everyone piled out to head to the bar.

“oh and fyi,” luke says, stopping you a little behind everyone else.

“yeh?” you ask, confused.

“we could try that position if your down.” he smirks, causing yous to slap his chest moving to walk away, “hey, you asked me.” he calls out after you before catching up.

“maybe, if your good.”

[fangdokja]

♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 691

You know you shouldn’t do it. You really shouldn’t.

Not because it’s wrong—because if anything, your bully doesn’t deserve the barest modicum of morality from you. But because the consequences are always brutal. And they will always come.

Yet here you are, tempting fate like the sick little thing you are. You never do it on purpose—at least, that’s the lie you feed yourself. But he knows. Knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. Which is why now, standing in his dorm, you feel the air shift before he even moves.

The door clicks shut.

Silence.

Then: “You think I’m fucking stupid?”

The words come like a serrated knife, dragging through the air, slow and cruel. He’s standing so still that it makes you uneasy, the way his broad shoulders barely move with each breath. His head tilts, just a little, just enough to make you feel like prey.

You don’t answer. You’re too busy watching the way his fingers flex at his sides, the way his tongue drags over his teeth like he’s trying to taste the threat before he sinks it into you.

He doesn’t need you to answer. He never does.

Before you can take another breath, your back slams against the wall, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. His body presses against yours, suffocatingly close, the heat of him burning into your skin like a brand.

“You wanna act like a whore?” he sneers, his voice dangerously soft. “Then I’ll fucking treat you like one.”

Your stomach flips, a sick little thrill curling in your gut. He knows. Knows exactly what buttons to press, what words will sink into your bones and make you ache. His fingers curl around your jaw, tilting your head up so you’re forced to meet his eyes.

They’re dark. Feral. Hungry.

“Open your mouth.”

You hesitate for a fraction of a second. He doesn’t like that. His grip tightens, fingers digging into your cheeks, forcing your lips apart. His spit lands on your tongue, hot and wet, before his palm slaps over your mouth, forcing you to swallow.

“Good slut,” he coos, mockingly sweet. “See? You do know your place.”

The humiliation burns hot under your skin, but you don’t look away. That only makes him smile, the slow curl of his lips promising nothing good.

“You love this, don’t you?” He drags his nose along your cheek, inhaling deeply like he wants to consume you. “You love being used. Love knowing you don’t get a fucking say in what I do to you.”

He’s right.

And that’s the worst part.

His hands are on you in an instant, rough and possessive, yanking at your clothes until they’re nothing but a crumpled mess on the floor. He doesn’t bother being gentle. He never is.

“Look at you,” he taunts, eyes raking over your exposed body. “All fucking desperate. You’re so goddamn pathetic.”

His fingers slip between your thighs, and he groans, low and mean. “Fuck. You’re already soaked.” He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “You act like you don’t want this, but your body tells the truth, doesn’t it?”

You shake your head, but he catches your chin, forcing you to nod instead. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

His touch is cruel, fingers sinking into you without warning, stretching you wide. You whimper, but it only makes him press deeper, curling against that spot that makes your vision blur.

“So fucking easy,” he murmurs, watching the way your body clenches around him. “Bet you get off to this, don’t you? Being manhandled. Used.” His thumb swipes over your clit, making you jolt. “Say it.”

You bite your lip, shaking your head.

His hand cracks against your cheek, sharp and stinging.

“Say it.”

Your breath shudders out of you. “I love it.”

His grin is vicious. “Of course, you do.”

His mouth is on you then, biting, licking, branding. He works you open with his fingers, teasing you to the edge, but never letting you fall. He likes to see you suffer. Likes to see you beg.

And you will beg.

Because he’s made sure you have no other choice.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

♡ List of Fandoms and Characters.

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

Ace Attorney: N/A

Arcane: N/A

Blue Lock: Michael Kaiser, Shidou Ryusei, Yoichi Isagi

Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi, Katsuki Bakugo

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A

Death Note: N/A

Demon Slayer: Sanemi Shinazugawa

DC: Damian Wayne

Dishonored Series: N/A

Genshin Impact: Childe, Scaramouche

Haikyuu!!: Hajime Iwaizumi, Yūji Terushima

Honkai Star Rail: Blade, Boothill

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A

Hunter x Hunter: Uvogin

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: N/A

Jujutsu Kaisen: Naoya Zen'in, Ryōmen Sukuna

Kill The Hero: Park Yong-Wan

Love and Deepspace: N/A

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: N/A

MONSTER: N/A

Naruto Shippuden: Hidan, Zabuza Momochi

One Punch Man: Suiryu

Reverend Insanity: N/A

TOUCHSTARVED: Vere

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Bill! Sans, Dust! Sans, Fresh! Sans, Ink! Sans, Killer! Sans, Nightmare! Sans, Shattered Dream! Sans, Underfell! Papyrus, Underfell! Sans, Undertale! Chara

Wuthering Waves: Scar

Your Throne: N/A

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood. Thank you.

Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee , @songbirdgardensworld , @yanderedrabbles

Test-Phase TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @imnotabot28 , @han11dh

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution

♡ Book 6 [you are here]. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.

♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.

Test-Phase TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”:

♡ Book 7. Corpus Delicti (CD): Donum Mortis.

[bbywriter]

between us | c. sturniolo

masterlist

summary: you and chris go meet matt's newborn baby

pairing: christopher sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: none just fluff<33

notes: i really need to be studying but i just haaad to write this first

word count: 1k

—

The hospital room is still. A steady rhythm beeps quietly from one of the machines, interrupted only by the hushed conversations between Matt and his girlfriend. The morning sunrise filters gently through the curtains. It outlines the couple sitting on the bed with golden rays, completely wrapping them in their new little world.  

Exhaustion is heavy in Matt’s features, but it’s soothed by something peaceful and soft. His girlfriend leans against him, her eyes half-lidded with a tired but content smile on her lips. And in his arms, held with the utmost care, is a tiny bundle wrapped snugly in a blanket, barely stirring except for the occasional sleepy wiggle. 

Chris hasn’t taken his eyes off the baby since you walked in.

He’s been up all night, eagerly waiting since Matt texted at the early hours of 2am that ‘we’re in labour!!!!!’ to get the okay to come visit. But now that you’re actually here, he’s gone completely still beside you. Hands fidgeting as his sides, his earlier excitement is now replaced by quiet admiration.

Matt glances up, sending his brother a knowing grin. “You wanna hold her?”

The question pulls Chris from his thoughts and he hesitates, his gaze flickering to you for some sort of reassurance. You place a hand on the small of his back and nod, offering an encouraging smile. “Yeah, baby, go hold her.”

He looks back at his brother and lets out a shaky exhale before stepping forward. He carefully stretches out his arms, his usual confidence softened by a new uncertainty as Matt gently transfers her into his hold. For a second, Chris stands completely frozen, holding his breath. He’s afraid to move too fast or do something wrong.

But then as the baby lets out the softest little sigh and nestles further into his chest, his heart becomes hers.

“She’s so small,” Chris whispers. His voice is barely audible as he glances at his brother, and with a smile, Matt gives him a reassuring nod. Chris shifts naturally, adjusting his hold, his fingers tracing light, absentminded circles over the baby’s back. You can see the way his throat bobs and his lips part as if he wants to say something else, but no words come out. His eyes glaze over just slightly, and when he lets out a breathy laugh, your chest tightens.

You’ve never seen him like this before.

He's always been loving—caring in ways that go unnoticed, selfless and gentle towards everyone around him. But the pure adoration in his eyes as he stares at his niece is entirely different. It’s deeper and more profound and it stirs a warm feeling in your chest. You don’t think you’ve ever loved him more than in this moment.

Matt slings an arm around Chris’s shoulders, pulling him in as they watch the baby together. For a moment, neither of them speaks, just taking in the surreal moment.

Chris shakes his head. “I can’t believe you’re a dad.” His voice is full of disbelief, still trying to process his brother’s new title.

Matt chuckles, his gaze never leaving his daughter. “I know, dude, it’s insane.”

Just then, like she knows they’re talking about her, the baby stirs in her swaddle, her tiny fingers twitching as she shifts against the blanket. She cranes her neck ever so slightly before letting out a slow, sleepy yawn, her little mouth opening wide, her nose scrunching just a bit. The sight is almost too precious, and their reaction is immediate. An identical “aww” slips from their lips in perfect unison.

Chris leans in slightly, studying her sweet features. “You literally do that too with your nose when you yawn.” He smiles at the realization.

“Isn’t it so cute?” Matt replies genuinely, his voice laced with pride and awe at his baby’s simple existence.

But Chris doesn’t hesitate. “Only when she does it.”

Matt scoffs, shaking his head with a smile. He doesn’t argue, but giggles softly instead. Chris is already grinning as well when his own laughter bubbles up. And just like that, the’ve fallen into the fit of giggles that’s been second nature to them since they were also babies.

You watch them closely, and suddenly, your own eyes fill with tears. Their triplet bond has always been something you’ve deeply admired. And now, with this tiny new life between them, you can see it’s only growing impossibly stronger.

“___, do you wanna hold her?” Matt’s girlfriend asks, her voice gentle, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

All eyes shift to you, and when Chris’s gaze meets yours, a soft smile spreads across his face. His eyes flicker with understanding as he notices the tears welling up in yours. You let out a quiet laugh, feeling a little embarrassed by the surge of your emotions, and quickly wipe at your eyes. You nod with a smile, and he gently places the baby into your hold.

The moment her weight settles into your arms, cradled gently between you and Chris, it feels as though you two have also slipped into your own little world.

Without a word, he steps behind you and gently rests his chin on your shoulder, his arm snaking around your waist. His body presses against yours, warm and solid, the closeness both grounding and instinctive, like he needs to be close—to share this moment with you.

You glance up at him, expecting to find him still focused on the baby. But his eyes are on you instead, so full of quiet devotion, full of love, and it pulls the air straight from your lungs.

In the softest voice, just loud enough for you to hear, he whispers, “I can’t wait ‘til we have our own.”

Your heart stutters, unsure if you heard him right. You turn toward him, searching his face, but he’s already looking at you like he means it with every fiber of his being. The words urge a new wave of tears to fill your eyes, and for a second, you forget to breathe.

A slow smile tugs at your lips. You glance back down at the baby in your arms, swaying slightly like it’s second nature. “Me neither.”

Chris tightens his hold around your waist, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin. And although in this moment, you don’t know exactly what the future holds, it’s clear and without doubt that when the time comes, Chris is going to be the best dad.

—

a/n: thank you always for reading<3 ily guys<3 so much<3

[espresso1patronum]

I loved your boxer good can we get boxer gojo in jealousy pleaseeee😭❤❣

hehe ofc bb<3 jealous boxer!gojo it is.. part 1 part 2

boxer!gojo who gets jealous way too easily. he sees the way the other fighters look at you—his sports therapist, his girl. sees the way they grin when you tape their hands, the way they lean in when you check their injuries. and he fucking hates it. "bet they like having your hands all over ‘em, huh?" he mutters, voice low and dangerous.

you roll your eyes, used to his possessive streak. "it’s my job, satoru." but that’s not good enough. because right now, his job is making sure you remember exactly who you belong to.

boxer!gojo who fucks you against the locker room mirror, making you watch. "see that?" he pants, one hand gripping your throat, the other pushing your legs apart. "no one else gets to touch you like this. no one." his hips snap into you hard, deep, stretching you open until you can barely stand.

you whimper, hands pressed against the mirror, and he leans in, smirking. "aw, baby—what, too much? you didn’t seem so shy when you had your hands all over those other guys."

boxer!gojo who makes you scream his name. "who’s fuckin’ you like this, huh?" he groans, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow and teasing circles. you choke on a moan, legs shaking, and he laughs, low and smug.

"c’mon, sweetheart. say it."

when you finally sob out his name, he rewards you with a bruising thrust, hips slamming against yours. "that’s right. mine."

boxer!gojo who doesn’t stop even when someone knocks on the door. "oi, gojo, you in there? fight starts in five!"

he grins against your neck, still rolling his hips. "guess i gotta make this quick, huh?" his fingers tighten around your throat, keeping you right where he wants you as he fucks you even rougher. "better cum before i do, baby—don’t wanna walk outta here with my cum drippin’ down your thighs, do ya?"

boxer!gojo who leaves you wrecked, trembling, completely fucked out. he kisses your jaw, smirking. "next time you touch another guy, remember this, yeah?" he fixes his shorts, winks, and heads out like he didn’t just ruin you.

and when he wins his fight that night, he points at you in the crowd, grinning. "that one was for my girl."

…because everyone in this arena should know who you really belong to.

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 19

Summary: Wanda plans a proposal.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

It’s hard to believe what you’re hearing.

“I’m sorry, just one more time. I want to make sure I’m getting this right” you plead, trying really hard not to scream.

“I cut my finger in a broken glass” the man explains, calmly. And then he adds the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard. “I cauterized it with a lighter”

Of course! Why would anyone go to the ER when they can just burn their skin off.

“Right. So… let’s try to not do that when medical care is nearby. I’ll apply a bandage and give you a cream”

You work in silence, until he speaks again.

“While I’m here, could I get circumcised?”

With a sigh, you stand up, asking Bucky to finish off for you. Tale as old as time, people thinking that the ER is open for anyone with a strange mole or pain that is not life threatening.

Your phone rings and your shoulders relax immediately.

“Hey, love”

“Hi. Boy, you sound tired” Wanda says, surprised that you’re so defeated after a few hours into your shift. You rarely complain.

“I’ve had the weirdest day, that’s all. People testing my patience, putting nail glue instead of eyedrops”

“Yikes”

“Guys asking if we perform circumcisions”

“Gross. But do you?” she jokes and you laugh.

“Dear God, no. As a lesbian, I’d rather not deal with that area unless it’s truly an emergency”

“Mmhm, and yet you’re so good when you’re wearing the strap” she teases, making you crash against the vending machine. Fortunately, the force knocks a bag of chips and you smile, picking it up.

“Number one, tease. You still owe me over that lap dance. And two, wanna go out tomorrow?”

Wanda’s entire demeanor changes after that, and it’s really hard not to get worried. She’s been like this ever since you mentioned Sokovia.

“I have a lot of work to finish, you know the book release is soon, plus Wendy…”

“Yeah, no. I get it. That’s fine. Maybe I can take the kids out to give you some peace and quiet”

“You know what, my mom loves bowling. Why don’t you all go?”

“Sure” you say, agreeing to anything Wanda suggests. “Alright, I’m getting paged. Hope it’s an actual emergency this time”

“I hope so too” Wanda says, smiling,

“Love you” you say, a bit worried she won’t say it back, but she does and there’s nothing different about the way she replies, adding a soft “my love” before hanging up.

So, maybe it’s all in your head.

Right?

—

Wanda hates lying to you.

The thing is, she still has to figure out a way to propose. It’s technically not hard to get everything ready without you noticing, considering your shifts can take more than a day. If she only knew exactly what to do.

She’s looking around her studio, thinking about the things you like. Her eyes eventually settle on a copy of her latest book. Thankfully, Laura never had the dedication changed, so she could still give it to you.

Or, she could give you a special copy with something entirely different.

As her mind begins to come up with a plan, Wanda smiles to herself.

Finally, she knows where to start.

—

It feels weird to have the entire Maximoff gang, minus your beautiful, stunning, out of this world girlfriend.

Darcy would call you a simp if she could hear all your thoughts.

But you miss Wanda and even if you knew she wasn’t joining you tonight, you’re still following her like a lost puppy.

“You’re absolutely sure?” you say, your hands around her waist.

“Yes, detka. I’m sorry. But we’re going to the wedding tomorrow and that’s going to be fun, right? You’ll have me all to yourself”

“Ok” you sigh dramatically, sinking your face in the crook of her neck. “I just miss you”

“Me too. If I’m not too tired we could watch an episode of The Golden Girls when you’re all back” she promises and you squeeze her waist, kissing behind her ear.

“Maybe I can persuade you with my very charming personality…” you place another kiss in her neck, sucking lightly on the skin. “Or with my very skilled fingers”

Wanda moans your name, melting in your arms and you are about to call victory when her mother opens up the door, shouting that it’s time to leave.

“I may have left out a very important piece of information” Wanda stops you before you go out to the foyer to meet her mother. “She gets very competitive…”

“So that’s where you got it from”

“Hey!”

But Wanda can’t continue the argument as Ekaterina walks in, handing you what looks like bowling uniforms. You’re surprised to see it has your name embroidered, and the Maximoff name on the back.

“How did you get this made so soon?”

“I know a guy” she replies cryptically, and you gulp.

Will she scream at you when she sees you know nothing about bowling?

“Come on, we’re going to be late, girls!”

“Oh, I’m staying. I have work to do” Wanda explains, lowering her voice when her mother gives her a stern look.

“Then the teams will be incomplete!”

“I don’t have to play” you jump, hoping that this can be your out.

“You have hands?”

“Y-yes”

“Then you play. Let’s go. Pietro’s meeting us there”

Billy and Tommy are excited as they follow their grandmother out, and you stall in the kitchen.

“You sure you don’t need someone to clean your brushes? Sharpen your pencils?”

“Detka, go” she says, laughing.

“I’m scared” you whine pathetically. She kisses you, her lips moving against yours. It’s so good it makes you forget the reason for your little meltdown.

“I’ll see you later”

—

Pietro is already waiting for you, knowing that his mother loves to jump right into the game. He’s set two bowling allies, and you split into teams.

You’re pleasantly surprised to see Bucky approaching you.

“Pietro promised me a beer if I joined so you could complete the teams”

Everyone takes a couple of shots to practice and you try to follow their movements. Bucky notices how lost you are, offering his guidance here and there. Your shots are not particularly powerful and the ball leans towards the gutter more often than not.

The point system is beyond your comprehension so you can only nod and cheer when Bucky completes a strike.

Beyond that, the doctor in you is looking at everything in the space (heavy objects, lots of movement, oily floors) and considering the possible injuries.

This is why, when Billy walks past the lane line, you go after him, afraid that he’ll fall. But you’re the only one on your ass as he lets go of the ball a second later, smiling.

“Y/N! That’s not how you play!” Ekaterina admonishes, and you sigh, crawling back to them.

“I’m going to get us more food”

Bucky is right behind you, chuckling as the woman keeps her winning streak.

“Is she a pro?”

“Seems to me” you say, ordering more fries and another soda for you. “Hey, can I ask you about Darcy? Do you have something against her or…”

“I like her”

“See, I told her she was just imagining things and… wait. Like her how?” you realise he’s looking away, a soft blush tinging his cheeks. Your hand flies to his arm and you jump around excited. “You have a crush on Darcy”

“I don’t”

“Nu-uh. You do. Why didn’t you tell me? Or better yet, her”

“I don’t know what to say when she’s around. I mean, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I don’t speak a lot and she does”

“Right” you nod your head. Truthfully, Bucky is different than the guys Darcy dates (in the best possible way) and it’s been a while. “Well, do you want a wingwoman?”

“Not really” he says, almost looking mortified. “It’s better if she thinks we’re enemies, honestly”

“Sure” you nod, pretending you’ll let the subject go. Bucky’s too naive, though, if he believes you won’t do anything about it.

For a bit, you watch the kids play in silence, while Pietro chats with a woman, obviously flirting while he pretends to correct her posture. Ekaterina, unaware that he’s flirting, comes over and scolds him on his bad technique.

Bucky and you laugh as he comes back to her side, and she forces him to do a couple of exercises.

When you get your orders of fries, you walk back to the group, smirking at him.

“Mama’s boy got cockblocked” you whisper.

“Hey, сука!”

“Pietro!” Ekaterina turns to glare at him, and you poke your tongue out as he gets an earful for the second time in the night.

This is a lot more fun than bowling.

—

Best part of coming back is that the kids are pretty tired, so they head straight to their room. When you go check on them, they’re both fast asleep, and Sparky pushes the door open a bit wider so he can jump on Billy’s bed.

“Better that than you sleeping with my girl” you say, closing the door.

You think it’s strange that Wanda hasn’t shown up to greet you, so you walk up to her study, knocking once. After the second time, you worry and open the door just a tiny bit.

“Wands? You ok in there?”

“Oh, hey! You scared me!” you notice she’s wearing your headphones, and you smile, opening the door wider.

“We just got back, the kids are asleep already”

You try to step inside but Wanda’s quick on her feet, standing right in front of you.

“Good to hear that. Was Mom good? Didn’t yell at you too much?”

“Nah, she was fine. Pietro got the short end of the stick. What you working on?” you smile, trying to get a look at her sketches.

“Nothing. Are you tired?”

“Not really. I could sit around while you keep working if you haven’t finished yet…” you say, approaching the table. One more step, and the surprise will be ruined. So, Wanda does the only thing that comes to mind.

“Why don’t you fuck me, then?”

That makes you turn.

“Say that again”

“If you’re not too tired, why don’t you fuck me?” Wanda smiles, amused at how easy it was to get your attention.

“Well, I definitely can do that” you walk back to her, carrying her bridal style. “Since you asked so nicely”

—

The big day is finally here.

One of the brides is not.

Or so Darcy says when you walk into the venue, hours before the ceremony. You’re wearing jeans and a t-shirt, looking as people finish decorating and setting up everything.

Your friend shows up, wearing one of those radio earpieces.

“Nice one, Britney”

“Bitch” she snaps, but then closes her eyes, breathing in and out. “I need you to go get Carol”

“Sure, is she in the dressing room?”

“No. She is at the hospital. Working”

“What? The wedding’s in four hours, she should be getting her hair and makeup done” you look at your phone, thinkig maybe there was an emergency and you had to be at work too.

“Just bring her, please. Abduct her if necessary” Darcy changes into the earpiece, shouting. “No, I requested mauve. Mauve!”

You wished Darcy had told you to get Carol before you even got here. Now you’ll have to drive all the way back to the city, as the wedding is happening at a small inn close to the mountains.

Racing against time, you walk in to ask around for her.

“She’s in OR 3” one of the nurses tells you, with a loaded look. “Doing a carpal thunnel decompression”

“Thanks”

You scrub in as fast as you can, pushing the door to the OR. Everyone stares at you, clearly on edge over Carol’s presence. She’s acting like it’s just another day, and like she’s not two hours behind on Darcy’s very detailed, strict schedule.

“Hey, bride to be” you greet, hoping she stops what she’s doing. With a sigh, you stand up next to her, smiling. “Are you excited?”

“Nope, it’s just another day”

“Well, I call bullshit”

One of the nurses laughs and the rest of the surgical team visibly relaxes.

“You’re getting married today. We still need to do your hair and makeup and a shower wouldn’t hurt either”

“Hey!”

“As maid of honor it is my duty to tell it like it is. Now, let someone else close up, and let’s go”

“I was supposed to do an arthroscopy after this”

“Darcy’s waiting in the car” you lie, knowing fear will be the only driving force to make Carol change her mind.

Sure enough, her eyes widen and she gives instructions to the rest of the team. When she’s washing her hands and scrubbing out, you join her, smiling.

“You ok?”

“I… it’s all so real. For months, we were planning and picking cake and decorations but it’s happening today and it feels like… a part of me is excited, another part of me is scared. Like really, truly terrified. And I don’t know what to make of it”

“It means you have something to lose” you say softly. “But a lot more to gain. It’s gonna be fine. You’ll forget all about it when you see Maria, I promise”

Finally, you get her to leave the hospital. A couple of people wave as you walk back to the parking lot, some of them saying they’ll see you at the party. Carol rolls her eyes when she realises you lied about Darcy, but you just shrug your shoulders.

“I guess I deserve it for being difficult”

“Yeah, you do” you laugh, driving back.

Of course, Darcy ushers you to the room to get hair and makeup, glaring at Carol and asking you to not leave her alone.

“I feel guilty for making Darcy help with everything” Carol says, and you let out a laugh. “What?”

“Did you actually ask her to do anything? She loves bossing everyone around. Should be taking Fury’s job at this point”

“Why are you still here? Makeup, go, go!” Darcy appears behind you a second later, making you yelp.

“Tyrant”

“Lazy ass”

Of course you do as she says, mainly out of fear.

Wanda arrives a little early, checking in as you had decided to stay at the inn instead of driving back home when the party was over.

“Finally, someone who understands the importance of punctuality!” Darcy says as she runs into your girlfriend. “I barely finished and I have to get my makeup and hair done”

“Would you like some help?”

“It’s fine, I’m low maintenance” Darcy declines, but Wanda’s not having it.

“I actually have something I want to ask you… so we could talk while I help”

“Mmm, I do love an efficient approach. Come on then” Darcy says, ushering Wanda into her own room.

She’s wearing a low cut burgundy dress that displays her very generous assets.

“Eyes are up here, Maximoff” Darcy jokes when Wanda’s stare travels a bit lower.

“Right. Let’s begin”

Wanda tells Darcy everything. How she found the ring, but decided to keep it to herself instead of putting pressure on you.

Your casual mentions of a wedding, the trip to Sokovia.

“Finally, she told you. She was terrified you’d be mad” Darcy comments.

“Well, that’s when I realised. Maybe it’s my turn to take the lead. Ask her to marry me” Wanda says, and she can see Darcy’s a bit shocked.

“Interesting. So why do you want to talk to me?”

Wanda smiles, telling her the proposal idea she came up with it. It’s simple, it’s unique, but she has a feeling that it’s something you’ll love.

“Honestly, Wanda? You could get down on one knee while she’s in the toilet and she’d be giddy about it” Darcy says, making Wanda laugh. “But I do think it’s cute and she’ll never ever shut up about it. Was that all?” she says after Wanda stays silent.

The woman sits in front of your friend, checking her makeup one last time, and with a sigh, asks the final question.

“I need your blessing”

“What am I? The Pope?”

“Darcy!”

“The lesbian godmother. First Carol and Maria with their wedding planning and now you…” she rambles, clearly amused.

“Darcy!” Wanda interrupts her, trying to keep it serious. “We both know her mother is the worst person. She’s starting to connect with her siblings. You’re her real family. The one person who’s stood by her through everything. So, it would mean the world to me, to at least know you’ll think of me as worthy of Y/N”

Darcy leans back, eyeing Wanda up and down. It’s hard not to feel intimidated, but the woman holds her ground, staring back.

“Fine, the Lord be with you or whatever it is you want me to say”

“Thank you” Wanda hugs her, excited.

“If you hurt her…”

“I know” Wanda says.

“As long as we agree. Now, let’s get out and see who’s already here so they can get seated”

Wanda helps out as much as she can with incoming guests, showing them where they can grab some refreshments while the ceremony begins.

She’s so focused that she misses an arm around her waist, until she hears your voice, happy as always when you greet her.

“Hey, love”

“Detka, hi…” she turns, but whatever she was about to say next is forgotten when she takes in your beautiful appearance.

Unlike most of the time, your hair is flowing down your shoulders and back in waves, framing your face perfectly. You’re not wearing a lot of makeup, but it’s enough to make your beautiful eyes stand out in contrast to the pink dress you’re wearing.

Don’t even get Wanda started on the dress. There’s a slit on the side that shows your leg everytime you take a step.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a dress”

“Not my style, but I’ll take one for the bride” you joke, adjusting the straps. “Heels too, I’m in agony”

“You look stunning” Wanda says, unable to look away.

The way you blush makes her bite her lip.

“Thank you, baby. Though I can’t wait to take it off”

You mean you’re eager to go back to wearing comfortable clothes, but Wanda’s eyes darken.

“Yeah, I can’t wait either” she says with a playful look, which makes you blush again.

“Hey, quit flirting and get on your spot. Music is about to start” Darcy says, nudging you at the begining of the aisle.

“Damn, Lewis, you’re taking the girls for a walk” you point at her rack, and she flips you off.

“Sorry, I'm late!” someone says behind you and you turn at the familiar voice.

“Belova!”

“Hey, you!” she pulls you for a hug that is much too strong for someone so little. “Missed ya”

“Missed you too. Go, find your seat before Darcy goes insane” you point at Kate, who’s looking around, impatient.

You’re supposed to walk down the aisle with Carol’s older brother, and he joins you a second later, bossed around by Darcy.

“She’s a firecracker” he comments. You nod, standing still and waiting for the music to begin. He leans forward, smiling. “I hear weddings are a great place to meet people”

“Really? I wouldn’t know. I met my girlfriend when I crossed the street to check on her son” you joke, sparing him from taking the flirting any further.

“Right”

“Maybe a lesbian wedding isn’t going to be for you, mate. Well, the firecracker over there is definitely straight, but I’m trying to set her up with someone else”

“Shall we?” we offers his arm, and you accept it with a nod.

Both brides look stunning, and though it’s a very short ceremony, everyone’s crying or at the very least, moved by their vows.

Wanda can’t keep her eyes from you, though. She can’t help but imagine you in a white dress, probably sneaking a very corny joke as you promise to love her for the rest of your lives.

It isn’t long before the drinks start to pour, the food served and the brides take their place at a special table, chatting and laughing.

By the time they have their first dance as a married couple, you’re at the edge of the dance floor, clapping when some fireworks and confetti are set off. The light glow reflects in your eyes and once again, Wanda is enthralled by the view.

Which is why, when more people begin to dance, she approaches you, offering her hand.

“A dance, m’lady?”

“Why, I couldn’t possibly say no” you smile, allowing her to lead.

“Have I mentioned you look beautiful, detka?”

“Yes, but I don’t mind hearing it again” you blush, your hands going around her waist. “Now, I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but have you given any thought to that trip to Sokovia?”

“Well, I… I’m not sure yet” Wanda lies, but almost gives in when she catches the disappointment in your face. But if she tells you the answer, it will ruin the surprise. Instead, she does something that will surely distract you.

Bumping her nose against yours, Wanda leans forward to kiss you. You smile against her lips, pulling her closer. The both of you are so caught up in your own little world that you don’t notice the bouquet that is flying in the air and crashes against your heads.

“Aww” Wanda laughs.

“What the fuck?” you turn around, noticing everyone’s clapping as Wanda takes it in her hands, admiring the flowers.

“Looks like we have two future brides” Carol says, smiling as she waves at you. “Now move so Maria can toss her flowers”

“Wait! I need to get Darcy! Be right back”

To your surprise, she’s still wearing her earpiece, arguing with catering about things no one really cares about.

“Hey. You’re not enjoying the party” you say, trying to take the earpiece away from her.

“I’m working”

“You’re a surgeon, not a party planner. And I don’t see anyone needing a limb removed, or anything of the sort. Come on” you take her hand, leading her to a table. You tap on Bucky’s shoulder, and he pales when he sees Darcy right behind you.

“Please tell me you didn’t”

“Darcy, why don’t you and Bucky dance?” you cut him off, smiling innocently.

“Pass” Darcy says, but you shove her right into his arms, stealing her earpiece. “Hey!”

But you walk away before she can chase you, going back to Wanda. She waves the bouquet and you accept it. Your girlfriend has taken it as a sign to set a date for her plan.

“Hey, there’s a private party for the book release next Friday. Are you free to go?”

“Absolutely, anything for you, my love” you pull her close, kissing the tip of her nose.

You keep talking and drinking, catching up with Yelena and you also notice that Darcy is still dancing with Bucky. They’re actually talking, and you hope that Darcy can at least let go of the idea that they are enemies.

Most people leave to drive back to the city, but you hang around until Carol and Maria are ready to leave for their very short honeymoon in Cabo.

“Wear lots of sunscreen and drink margaritas” you say goodbye to them. “And don’t think about work. We’ll be just fine”

“Oh, trust me, our phones will be off” Maria says, smiling as you hug her. “Thanks for everything. Have you seen Darcy? We want to say goodbye to her”

“She’s… huh” you turn around, looking as she’s chatting with Bucky in the bar. “Busy, I guess?”

“Someone just lost five dollars” Carol makes fun of Maria.

“I won’t pay until we settle that other one”

“What other one?” you ask, curious.

“If your wedding will be the next one we attend” Carol laughs.

“Well… yeah, no comment. Come on, leave before you miss your flight”

Luckily, you have a room at the inn because you absolutely don’t feel like driving back to the city.

“Did you hear from your mom? Are the kids doing ok?” you ask Wanda, sittig on the bed and removing your shoes with a sigh. “I am never wearing heels again”

“Yes, detka. Relax, everything’s fine” she says, coming back to the room wearing a bathroom robe that looks beyond comfy.

“Help me with the zipper, please?” you say, pushing your hair out of the way. She pulls the zipper down, releasing you from the fabric until the dress is pooling at your feet.

“Not so fast” she says, hands around your waist.

You laugh when she kisses the spot between your neck and shoulder, tickling the skin.

“Had fun?” you sigh, melting in her arms.

“Yes. I drew us a bath, come on”

When you’re finally in the bathtub, Wanda goes in, relaxing against your front.

“I like weddings” she says suddenly, and you chuckle.

“Yeah? Were you dreaming about your wedding when you were little?”

“Oh, I used to do this ceremony with my teddy bear. He was real handsome. We got married a couple of times” Wanda says, smiling at the memory.

“Guess I’ll have to fight Mr. Bear to set the record straight” you mumble, struggling to keep your eyes open. Between Wanda’s warmth, the water and the candles she lit, you could pass out any minute now.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you ever think about your wedding? As a kid, I mean”

“Not really. My parents weren’t married, so I guess I only thought that people had kids. Learning what being married meant came later. But I like it. As a concept, I mean. Having someone to be your partner, through everything… it doesn’t sound bad”

“Right” Wanda agrees, smiling as she imagines what the future holds for you two.

“Surgeons are terrible spouses, though” you warn her, which makes her laugh.

“I don’t believe that. Not from you, at least”

“Mmm, time will tell” you yawn, making Wanda turn. “Sorry. Just tired”

“Come on. Let’s get to bed”

Just as Wanda thought, you’re asleep the minute you settle in bed. As she watches you dream peacefully, her heart beats faster at the prospect of the future.

She can’t wait to propose.

[zorosangell]

Hi!!! First off I wanna say how AMAZING ur writing is like truly WOW. I loveee how you write jealous Zoro, but I neeeedd some jealous, possessive reader. Reader don’t play about Zoro just as much as he don’t play about her. You can also totally add some spice if you want *wink wink*

⛥ﾟ・。 stall

synopsis: after you catch a girl trying to spike zoro's drink, all hell breaks loose... hell being you.

cw: fluffy fluff, comfort, a whole lot of profanity, reader's crashout is incredibly valid, reader is a BADDIE, nami is a down ass bitch, girl talk, zoro looooves his girl.

a/n: i'd be this crazy too if I had zoro as a bf

"Look at her! All giggly and shit... he's never said anything that funny his whole life," you huffed, brows furrowed and lip jutted in a pout as you watched from the window of the bathroom door.

"She is kinda hammin' it up," Nami agreed, peaking along with you. "But that doesn't explain why you dragged me out here."

"'Cause I needed someone to spy with. And I didn't wanna look crazy doing it at a table."

"Hon', you look crazy now!"

"Hey!"

With a harsh sigh, you came off your tippy-toes, your heels making a soft clack against the bathroom tile as you turned to your red-headed friend.

"I do not!"

"(y/n), you are in your best dressed while stalking your boyfriend from the grimy bathroom of a dive bar," she deadpanned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I love you... but this is insane."

Slowly, you deflated, shoulders slightly sinking at the facts presented for you.

It did look kind of crazy.

'A warranted kind of crazy...'

The girl out there with the annoyingly silky hair and infuriatingly beautiful dress had been practically throwing herself at Zoro since the moment she saw him.

And it had only been a week since you and the crew arrived at Asaashi.

The Sunny was in need of repairs, so the crew docked at a nearby port island in order to give Franky enough space and time to fix her up.

And guess who happened to be the harbormaster?

Every day, without fail, she had managed to tail your swordsman, following him and showering him with praise whenever she could.

You hadn't had not two seconds alone with him before she came barging in with some excuse like a pirate crew she needed help collecting from or boats she needed help destroying.

You knew Zoro had never—and would never—entertain her advances, but being his girlfriend, you couldn't help but feel some type of way.

"She knows exactly who I am, and she knows exactly what she's doing," you stated, firmly, pointing at the window. "I can't just sit around and do nothing, Nami."

"Well, hanging out in the bathroom surely isn't helping."

With a sigh, she stepped closer, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"You've got more history with that idiot than that girl could ever know. And if you actually think she has a shot with him, then maybe you aren't as smart as I thought you were..."

"Hey!"

Amused, Nami let out a small snicker, before focusing on the task at hand.

"You're his girlfriend. And you've got every right to walk out there and plop yourself down on his lap. Kiss him! Shove your tongue down his throat! Lay your claim, girl! Men do it all the time."

Surprised, your nose scrunched.

"Really?"

"You think Zoro starts getting hot and heavy with you whenever Sanji's around just for fun?"

She paused a moment, thinking about her statement.

"Well... yes, for fun, but it's also a power-play."

Shaking her head, she returned to her point.

"So be bold! Take charge! Show that bitch who's boss!"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah!"

With new determination, you turned on your heel, throwing the bathroom door wide open and storming out.

Only to immediately rush back in.

"She's coming! Hide!"

"(y/n)!"

Quickly, you snatched up Nami's wrist, dragging her into a stall and shutting the door just in time for the woman and her friend to walk in.

"Oh, my god, Siva, the guy you're talking to is so hot," the friend commended, audibly plopping her bag down on one of the sinks. "Where did you find him?"

"At work," she smirked, going straight for the mirrors to check her makeup. "His crew's been docked here for about a week. We've been getting to know each other better."

"I'm surprised a man like him isn't snatched up already," the friend remarked, slowly gliding the bright red lipstick across her lips.

"Oh, he is," Siva grinned, her lips curling in an almost witch-like expression. "But she's practically out the picture already."

At that, anger began to bubble in your stomach, your brows furrowing at the statement.

'Oh, she fuckin' didn't.'

Just as you were about to open the door, Nami looped her arms under your armpits, frantically holding you back.

"Clearly not enough. He hasn't touched you all night," the friend reminded, beginning to touch up her eye shadow.

"All week," Siva corrected, annoyed, as she grabbed something out her dress pocket. "But this little baby's gonna change all that."

You and the navigator paused your struggle for a moment, brows quirking as you both peeked in the crack of the stall to see what she was holding.

It was a small bottle.

"Few drops of this in his sake and he'll be up for anything."

"Few drops? He'll need ten bottles just to get a buzz," the friend scrunched her nose.

"Nuh-uh. Whole bottle's enough to kill a dragon."

You were clenching your fists so hard, your knuckles were turning white.

"What about the girlfriend?" the friend asked, amused.

"What about her? She'll be old like last week's shoe sale. Tossed out and left with the trash."

"Girl, you are bad..."

"It's good to be."

"Y'know what's gonna be really good?!"

Without hesitation, you kicked open the stall door, the resounding boom scaring the shit out of them

"When I kick your fucking ass!"

Seamlessly, you kicked off your heels before launching forward, grabbing Siva by her silky hair and letting off a rapid-fire round of punches, her poor balance easily taking you both to the ground.

"My extensions!" Siva shrieked as you tossed a clump of fake hair, attempting to lift her arms in order to shield her face.

"Siva!" the friend gasped, quickly moving to assist. "Don't worry! I'll get her!"

"Get who?" Nami scoffed, hopping on one foot as she attempted to take off her heels and take out her earrings. "You're not jumping my girl, bitch!"

Stalling for time, Nami stepped on the girl's toes with the point of her heel before finally managing to get it off, promptly snatching her up before she could grab you.

"Get the fuck off me, you fucking cunt!" Siva spat as you continued to throttle her head.

"Shut the fuck up!" you barked, tossing her into a tiled wall.

"Oh, that is fucking it!" she growled, brows furrowed and newly invigorated.

"C'mon, bitch! I'm right here!"

With a roar of anger, she charged you, slamming you both against another wall before you flipped her over and tackled her out the bathroom, taking the door completely off its hinges.

"Keep fuckin' trying me, hoe! I'm not scared of you!" you spat, the two of you right back where you started as you grabbed her hair once again, slamming her head against the hard wood of the door—Nami still being in a fist fight with the friend in the bathroom.

"Ohhhh, shit! Cat fight!" a random patron exclaimed, calling the attention of the entire bar.

Everyone cheered, letting out shouts of oohs and aahs as you whooped the woman's ass, the sight honestly a marvel as you did so effortlessly, without devil fruit powers nor freakish strength to back you up.

Just will and a whole lot of grit.

Though, it wasn't long before a certain pair of strong arms grabbed you, pulling you away from the woman as you frantically thrashed around like an angry cat.

None other than your boyfriend.

"No, Zoro! M'not done beatin' her ass!" you whined, attempting to wiggle out of his tight grip.

"Yes, you are," he shut down, instantly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We're leaving."

"Nami-swan, please! A goddess like yourself shouldn't dirty your hands with things like this!" Sanji pleaded, attempting to pry your red-headed friend off the other girl.

"Fuck that! This bitch tried to pull my hair out!"

"Yeah! Run away, bitch!" Siva taunted, sitting up from the ground with a painful wince.

"Run away?!" you scoffed, eyes wide. "Oh, hell nah! Zoro, let me go!"

"No," he denied, tossing you over his shoulder before starting toward the door. "Let's go, cook! Hurry the hell up!"

"Give me a damn second! She's got a death hold on her!" Sanji grunted, finally managing to loosen Nami's grip on the friend's neck before pulling her off.

"My fucking teeth!" Siva screeched, cupping at least five in her palm with horror.

"Thank my man, bitch! He's the only reason you're still breathing!" you barked, grabbing a nearby man's drink and tossing it at her. "Have fun suckin' sailor dick, toothless!"

"Fuck you!"

"Eat my ass!" you pulled down your eyelid, sticking out your tongue as you waved around a humongous chunk of hair. "Bald-headed bitch!"

The following shriek was high enough to shatter glass, but it sounded like music to your ears as you laughed, tossing her extensions on the ground as Zoro finally exited the bar.

With a sigh, he started in the direction of the Sunny—per Sanji's instructions—glancing back at you with a raised brow.

"You wanna tell me what all that was back there?" he asked.

Slowly coming down from your high, your shoulders slightly sank, arms crossing over your chest.

"She won't be coming around you anymore," you huffed, firm and final.

At that, Zoro finally realized what this was all about, forcing a small smirk to curl on his lips.

Letting out a chuckle, he pressed a soft kiss against your thigh, his large palm giving your ass a quick squeeze.

"Crazy woman..."

[wbbpls]

Platonic Plus One

Chapter 11

Word count: 4300 another day of them hopelessly falling in love and being dumb about it. Only 2 more days before the wedding day...will they figure it out?

After getting massages, Azzi met up with the wedding party to finish planning the party tomorrow night. Then, the girls spent the rest of the day by the pool. The wedding is in three days, so they’re enjoying the calm while they can before going back to school. Azzi was floating on an inflatable, quietly enjoying herself—almost too quietly. As soon as Azzi started considering why it was quiet and where Paige might be, she was suddenly flipped over into the water. 

When she came back for air, she immediately recognized Paige’s laugh mixed with her brother's. 

“What the hell?!”

“Sorry, baby, we just had to. You looked too peaceful.”

“It was Paige’s idea!” Jon and Jose say in unison. 

“What?! Bro, it was deadass not my idea.” 

“Really, Paige?” Azzi gave her a stern look, trying not to crack a smile. 

“No, no, it was Tim’s idea! I swear on my knee.” Jose and Jon can’t stop laughing, and they can hear Tim cackling in the background. 

“It doesn’t matter who’s idea it was. You still did it. Plus, you got me all wet.” Azzi crosses her arms.

As soon as Paige smirked, Azzi realized the words had left her mouth. “Oh yeah, did I?”

Azzi starts blushing profusely. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“You sure bout that, mama?” Paige puts her hands on Azzi’s waist, pulling her in. 

“Ew, dude, that’s my sister.” Jose splashes water at Paige, getting Azzi even more wet. 

“Okay, that’s it! I’m done here.” 

“Ugh, see what you did?” Paige splashes him back. 

“Nah, just go be your simp self, and she’ll be fine.” Paige rolled her eyes and went to the edge of the pool, watching Azzi walk and sit down on the lounge chair. 

“P, stop staring.” Paige put her head down on the palm of her hands, smiling back at Azzi. 

“Nah, I’m good.”

Azzi couldn’t stop herself from smiling at the flirting and attention she’d been receiving from Paige since their massage. “Alright, Paige, c’mon. Come join me.”

“Gladly, pretty girl.” Paige pushes off the side of the pull, showing off the muscles in her arm, then the tightening of her abs. Azzi couldn't look away even if she tried. As Paige stands up, she notices Azzi looking down her body and smirks. 

“Enjoying the view?”

“W-what, no! Ugh you’re so cocky.” 

“Mhm, sure.” 

Paige grabs a towel, half-dries off, and sits next to Azzi. 

“Paige, you’re getting me all wet again. And don’t be a smart ass.” Azzi throws another towel at her while Paige bends over laughing. 

When she catches her breath, she shrugs and says, “Hey, I guess I just have that effect on you.”

“Not another word, Bueckers.”

“Alright, alright.” 

Azzi picked up her book to continue reading. She got through one whole page before Paige started bothering her again. 

“Hey, Azzzzziiiiiii.”

“Yes, Paige?”

“Wanna do somethin’ fun tonight?”

“Hm, like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there’s an arcade or somethin’ nearby. I have felt lost without competition these past few days. I could really use beating you at something.”

“Okat first, rude. But also, that sounds fun, so fine.”

“Aye, that’s wassup.” Paige excitedly stands to gather their stuff and, sadly for Azzi, puts her clothes back on. 

“Yo, Jose and Jon! We goin’ to an arcade tonight. Wanna come so I can beat your asses?”

Azzi mutters under her breath, “Oh god, what did I just sign up for?”

“Nah, baby, it’s gonna be fun. Wanna invite some of the wedding party and make it a thing?”

“Sure, Paigey, I’ll text Jake, and he’ll probably get everything together,” Azzi replies softly, enjoying the term of endearment. 

“Bet.” 

================================================

The girls, Azzi’s brothers, Jake and his girlfriend, and a few other people from the wedding party joined them at a local arcade. This isn’t typically Azzi’s scene, but Paige turns into a happy little kid at arcades, and who is she to deprive her of that?

“Oh, shit they got laser tag!” 

“I call dibs on shooting Paige and Azzi!” 

“Damn Jon, you were a lil too ready go there,” Paige says as she fills out her waiver. 

They all start to put on the vests as they listen to the instructions. Paige leaned over to whisper in Azzi’s ear, “Don’t worry, Princess, I’ll protect you.” 

It’s like Paige has been determined to get Azzi to blush this entire day, and each time Azzi gets flustered, it gives her more and more confidence. Might be time to humble her a little bit.

“Oh yeah? You gonna be my night in shining armour?” 

“As long as you’re my princess.” Okay, yeah, Paige won that one. 

The teams split up, starting on the respective sides of the room. Once the buzzer sounds, telling them to go, Paige screams at the top of her lungs “LETS FUCKIN GOOOOOOOO!”

It's moments like these that Azzi finds herself falling for Paige. Moments like this tell her that Paige isn’t just a best friend. Paige is sprinting, jumping, and rolling as she dodges and shoots everyone. Azzi will never tell her, but she’s surprisingly good at this. Azzi got both of her brothers out twice, so now they were on the hunt for her. They started to sneak up on Azzi, and then suddenly Paige dove in front of her, shooting both of her brothers and getting shot herself. Azzi runs to kneel down next to Paige.

“Paige! Are you okay? I can’t believe you just dove like that to stop them from shooting me. You could have gotten hurt!” 

“Anything for my princess.” 

Their eyes are locked in as everything around them fades away. Paige’s eyes dropped down to Azzi’s lips. “Do I get that true love’s kiss for saving you?”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Azzi closes the gap, softly kissing her. Paige moves her hand to go behind Azzi’s neck. Before either girl could deepen the kiss, their vests light up red, and they hear a loud beep. When they break apart, Jon and Jose are standing over them with evil smiles. 

“That’s what you get for bein’ a simp!” 

“That’s it. Y’all better run.” Paige books it towards them, and Azzi adds this moment to her list of reasons why it's so easy to be in love with Paige. Azzi froze, realizing the thought she had. She just admitted to herself that she’s in love with her best friend. And for the first time, that didn’t scare her. 

The lights turn back on, signaling the end of their game. Their team won by a landslide, thanks to Paige, giving her an ego boost no one needed. They all split up, playing games until Jose comes up to them.

“Guys, there’s basketball! Bet I can beat you both.”

Azzi laughs, “That’s actually comical. Let’s go beat these idiots.” The girls high-five and make their way over. 

Jose pushed Jon out of the way, “I call takin' down Paige. You can deal with Azzi.” 

“Bro, you know that’s not even equal.”

“I’m literally right here.” 

Azzi couldn't help but laugh at their banter and rub Paige’s back. Azzi grabs Paige’s chin, turning her head to kiss her. “You got this, baby.”

Now flustered, Paige scans her player card to start the game with a dopey smile on her face. She’s still smiling at Azzi and doesn’t even notice the timer started. 

“Distracted over there, Bueckers?” Jon laughs at her.

“Oh shit.” Paige focuses in and starts draining shots, catching up to Jose. In the last second, Paige lost by one point. 

“I BEAT PAIGE BUECKERS AT BASKETBALL!”

“What, no?! You cheated.”

“How did I cheat?”

“I was distracted when we started.”

“It’s not my fault you’re whipped for my sister.”

“Nah, rematch. Right now.” 

“Whatever, fine. Azzi, maybe you should leave so she can actually shoot.”

 “My girl ain’t no problem,” Paige winks as she wraps her arm around Azzi’s waist. “How about another kiss for good luck?”

Although caught off guard momentarily, Azzi got excited by the idea. “I don’t know...that last one wasn’t too helpful.” 

“And?”

Fair point. Azzi leans in to close the gap. As Paige went to move, thinking it would just be a peck, she grabbed her face and pulled her in for a longer kiss. 

“Now that’s lucky.”

“Can you guys stop making out so we can play, jeez.” Paige kisses Azzi’s temple and moves to scan her player card again. They both zone in, and without any distractions, Paige beats Jose by a landslide. When the buzzer goes off, Paige jumps up and down and then runs over to Azzi, picking her up and spinning her around. Giggles take over as Paige trash-talks Jose and leans against the table behind them after she puts Azzi down. 

“Okay, okay, Azzi, you’re up. Get ready to lose.” Jon says as he trades places with Jose. Paige leans against the table behind them after she puts Azzi down. 

“Real confident for someone who misses every other shot.” Azzi starts to walk over but then feels hands wrap around her wrist, pulling her in. She spun into Paige, settling between her legs. 

“Kiss for good luck, mama?”

Azzi beams and kisses Paige again. If you could even call it that, considering she can’t stop smiling. She pulls back and kisses Paige on the tip of her nose. “Thanks, cutie.”

Paige couldn't take her eyes off Azzi, mesmerized by her smile and confidence. She didn’t miss a single shot, and each one was all net. 

Standing next to Paige, Jose is smiling in disbelief. “Damn, that was—”

“Hot.” Something about hearing Paige so openly call her hot made her mouth go dry. 

“Dude, that’s still my sister.” 

Without taking her eyes off of Azzi, Paige responds, “The truth is the truth, Jose.”

“Okay, we can’t do this anymore. You guys are gross.” 

After a few more games, the group makes their way back to the property. Most of Azzi’s family is chatting in the lobby and drinking wine. The girls each pour a glass and join in. Azzi sits next to Katie, and Paige joins Tim on the other side of the room. 

“Hey, sweetie. How was the arcade?”

“Really good. We beat the hell out of Jon and Jose.”

“Real shocker there.” 

“Hey, Mom, can I, uh, talk to you about something?”

“Sure, wanna go for a walk?” 

“Yeah, that would be good.” 

Kaite and Azzi stood with wine glasses while walking around the large lobby. On their way out, Paige caught Azzi’s eye, offering her a smile as if to say, “I’m here.” 

“I really need to tell you something, and I don’t know how to, so now I’m just so confused.”

“Just say what you need to say, Azzi.”

“I’m in love with Paige.” 

“Okay...? I’m sorry, but what’s the problem here?”

“Paige and I aren’t actually together.” Katie looked at Azzi as if she had two heads. Azzi started babbling off an explanation as fast as she could, “I know, I know, I can explain. I just was so tired of the whole family constantly hounding me about my dating life and everything thought we were dating anyway so I went along with it, and now we’ve been pretending to be together all week, and nothing about it feels fake, and I don’t know what to do.” Azzi lets out a deep breath once she finishes explaining everything. 

“Wow, alright. That’s a lot to take in.”

“I’m really sorry for lying to you, Mom.”

“It’s okay, Az. Our family, especially your aunt, can be annoying, so I can’t even blame you. Look, I get all of this can be confusing, but honestly, I’ve been waiting years for you guys to finally get your act together and admit to being in love with each other.”

“Wait, really?”

Katie laughs at Azzi’s shock. “You guys have always just clicked. There’s something special there, so of course, once you guys cross that line, it opens up even more feelings.” 

“What if she doesn’t feel the same way and I ruin everything?”

“Azzi, I love you, but if you really think that girl isn’t head over heels for you, then you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom.”

“You never noticed that any girl Paige started to date got jealous of the two of you, and the second they weren’t nice to you, she dumped them?”

“Okay, well, they objectively sucked.” 

“Fine, what about how many flowers and little gifts she buys you?”

“She’s a giver. She gives to everyone.” 

“Where are my flowers then?” 

“Ugh, if she really wanted this, she would have said so. She’s so much more experienced with this stuff than I am and always so confident. She would have made a move by now.” 

“Azzi, you and I both know that’s not true. You’re just using it to validate insecurities.” 

“Well, you don’t hold back, do you?”

“You’re everything to her, Azzi. What if she’s scared of ruining everything, too? You’re her constant. You’re what keeps her safe. You’re one of the only people she lets see her, really see her. Sure, Paige is all confidence, but how much of that is protection?”

“I guess I never thought of it that way. I know I’ve always seen her differently and Caroline has been on my ass about it since forever, but like, everyone saw this but us?”

“Dumb and in love, I guess.” Katie smiled at her daughter and pulled her in for a hug. 

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Of course, kiddo. Let’s get back to that crazy blonde. She’s probably hit her limit on time away from you.”

When they returned to the main area, Tim and Paige sang loudly as they poured another glass. 

“How long were we gone, and how many drinks have they had?”

“AZZIIIIIIIIIIII!”

Azzi giggles and walks up to Paige. “Hi, drunkie.”

“Hey, babygrl, I missed you.” Paige kissed the side of her head and pulled her onto her lap. 

“We’ve been together all day, P.”

“Okay, and? You didn’t miss me?” She says with a pout. Azzi’s heart melts, and she brushes her hair out of Paige’s face. 

“Yeah, I missed you.” 

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” 

“Me too, P.” Azzi traces her fingers down Paige’s arm and plays with the hair at the nape of Paige’s neck. The feeling of Azzi all over her sends Paige deep into the clouds. Maybe it wouldn’t be like this next week, but she would take advantage of it while she could. 

“Mm, that feels good, Az.” Seeing Paige’s eyes flutter closed as she relaxed into her made Azzi think about what her mom had said. They’ve always been each other’s safe space. Why should this be any different? Azzi leans in to kiss Paige. She very quickly kisses Azzi back. They’re still aware that Azzi’s whole family is around them, so they break apart and lean their foreheads on each other. 

“You’re really good at that.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, P.”

“Yeah, but I think I’m gonna need some more practice.” 

“Oh, yeah? That could be arranged.”

“It’s a date.”

“A date, huh?”

“How about dinner tomorrow night?”

“The dinner provided by my cousin?”

“Hey, it’s food.” Azzi rolled her eyes and went to stand up, teasing Paige, but she was quick to pull her back down. 

“Wait, I promise to buy you a legit dinner, just us, after the wedding, okay?”

“After the wedding?”

“Yeah, Az, after.”

“I’d like that.” The girls smile at each other and then return to the conversations around them. Once Paige finished her fourth glass of wine, Azzi stood up, grabbed Paige’s wine glass, and pulled her by her hand. “Alright, I think that’s enough for you. Goodnight, everyone!”

“Hey, I was drinking that!”

Azzi ignored her and kept pulling her towards the elevator. Once she pressed the button, Paige wrapped around her from behind and whispered in her ear, “You coulda just said you wanted alone time, mama.”

The elevator doors opened, and Paige wouldn’t detach herself from the younger girl. Once the door closed, Paige started to give Azzi open-mouth kisses on her neck, causing Azzi's breath to hitch.

“You’re so fuckin pretty, Az”

“Mm, P.” 

Azzi turned around, connecting their lips, taking her time kissing Paige. Paige pushed her forward, letting Azzi’s back hit the wall. Their kiss becomes deeper as their breaths become heavier. Paige bit Azzi’s bottom lip and sucked, causing a loud moan to come out. Azzi grabbed Paige’s hips and quickly changed their positions, pushing Paige up against the wall. She immediately attached her lips to Paige’s neck.

“Fuck, that feels so good.”

Azzi kisses under her ear and whispers, “You like that?”

“So fuckin’ much.” Paige moans out breathlessly. 

“Mm, good to know,” Azzi says smugly. She goes back to kiss her neck, but then the elevator dings. The girls start laughing, and Paige grabs her hand. “Let’s go, beautiful.” 

There’s a thick tension between them as they walk down the hallway. While Azzi unlocks the door, Paige’s phone starts going off. Suddenly, Paige’s entire demeanor changed. 

Paige’s whole body tensed, seeing all the headlines about her. Will she be able to bring home a national championship? Does she really deserve to hold the #1 draft slot? The past month, the pressures of everything have been crashing down on her, crushing her underneath endless expectations. She’s been so good at pushing it all aside, but those glasses of wine certainly didn’t help. This past week, being with Azzi, she forgot about it all. She finally felt like a normal person again. 

“You okay, Paigey?”

Paige snapped out of her thoughts, remembering how much she enjoyed Azzi. 

“Y-yeah, for sure.”

Azzi looks at her phone, reading the same headlines Paige read. 

“Paige, you know all that stuff is just outside noise, right?”

“I mean, is it? They have a point. How can I be #1 pick with no natty? Like, even saying that out loud sounds crazy.”

“Because you’re amazing, Paige. You’ve earned that spot, with or without the championship.” 

“Yeah, whatever.”

“No, not whatever, P. C’mon, talk to me.” 

Paige knew she should just talk to Azzi about it all. But telling her how she’s felt makes it all too real. Azzi has been nothing but supportive to her; she doesn’t deserve to hear all of Paige’s ungrateful complaints. Paige starts to feel heavy in the silence between them, so she does the one thing that’s worked all week. She kisses Azzi. 

Azzi was caught off guard, but then kissed her back. She could not resist Paige, but she could feel the frustration, anger, and sadness in Paige’s kiss. She pulls back, “Paigey, talk to me.” 

Paige shakes her head no while focusing on Azzi’s lips with dilated dark blue eyes. She’s so tired of feeling like this, like she has no control over her life. She just wants to not feel like this for one minute. She pulled Azzi back in for a rough kiss, pouring any emotion she had left into the kiss. 

“Pai—”

“Azzi, it’s fine. I’m fine.” Paige pushed back, grabbing at the back of Azzi’s neck to kiss her again. Azzi has no idea what to do. She’d never seen this side of Paige before. If she doesn’t want to talk, she takes it out on exercise and finds her way back to Azzi by the end of the day. Azzi kisses her back because it’s evident that’s what Paige needs right now. But the voice in the back of her head knows this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

Azzi pulls back harder this time, sternly saying her name, “Paige.”

“Please, Azzi baby, I need you right now.” Something about the vulnerability takes over the logical voices in Azzi’s head, and she kisses Paige back. Paige smiled under Azzi’s initiative and pushed her against the wall, kissing down her neck. She stops right under Azzi’s ear, biting and soothing the sting over with her tongue. 

“P-paige, fuck.” This just spurs Paige on, and she shoves her leg in between Azzi’s and starts grinding into her. 

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, mama.” Paige displayed her strength by picking Azzi up and walking her over to the bed. Azzi grips at her shoulders, taking in the feeling of Paige all over her. Their kisses turn sloppy as their tongues fight for dominance. This is all Azzi has wanted, but something feels wrong. When her back hits the bed, the voices warning her to stop this come front and center.

Azzi moves her lips off of Paige, which Paige takes as an opportunity to kiss her neck again. Paige is lost in her head, desperately trying to push back all her negative feelings. But any insecurity and doubt she’s ever had is fighting back full force. Azzi is the only thing she’s ever had that is good and pure. She needs all of Azzi. Paige starts to move her hand down to the top of Azzi’s jeans when Azzi’s brain finally catches up with her. 

“Paige, stop.”

Paige freezes, her dark blue eyes now looking so lost. “You don’t want this, do you?”

“W-what no, Paige, hold on.”

“Fuck, I’m so stupid,” Paige says with tears ready to fall at any moment and removes herself from Azzi, to sit at the edge of the bed. Of course the one thing Paige thought would always be good in her life, she fucked up too.

“Paige, stop, that’s not it I jus—” 

“Azzi, it’s fine. I messed up; no need for you to fix this, too. Just drop it.” Paige feels guilt more than anything now for putting Azzi in this position. She was so desperate to run from her feelings that now she was just hurting herself and her best friend in the process. 

“P...”

Azzi isn’t even sure what the right thing to say right now is. She wants to admit her feelings for Paige. Let her know that she’s all she wants, but there’s obviously something going on that she can’t understand. 

“I’m sorry for fucking this all up, Azzi,” Paige whispers and drops her head into her hands, resting on her knees. 

“Paige, you didn’t fuck anyhting up. Please, just listen to me, baby.”

Paige’s tense shoulders relaxed at the term of endearment as Azzi rubbed her back. Maybe she didn’t totally push her away.

“Look at me, P.” Paige hesitates but finally turns to look at Azzi, feeling some sense of relief and fear at the look in Azzi’s eyes. She’s not sure she can handle any more rejection. 

“Paige, please, just talk to me. You’ve been on and off reacting like this all month, overdoing workouts and spending all night in the gym. I want to be here for you, Paigey, but I can’t if you don’t let me in. 

Paige lets that sit, really sit. She knows Azzi is right and feels like she's ripping at the seams and trying to hold it all in. 

Azzi almost didn’t hear Paige respond with her tear-filled whisper, “I’m not good enough.”

“Oh, Paige, come here.” Azzi opened her arms, and her best friend fell into her, sobbing. “I wish you could see yourself like I do. You’re more than enough, P; you’re everything. People will always have something to say, and half the time, they’re not even right. You constantly have so much pressure on you, so please let me take it off you.”

Azzi lets the older girl sob in her arms. “Let it all out, baby, I’ve got you.” 

“I-I’m s-so scared to f-fail.” Paige grips onto Azzi’s shirt like it's her lifeline, desperately trying to catch her breath between her tears. 

“It’s okay to fail sometimes, Paige. It’s what makes you stronger. It’s what makes you the Paige we all fell in love with.” The Paige I fell in love with is on the tip of Azzi’s tongue. 

“I’m so scared of letting everyone down.” Paige finally looks up at her, with her beautiful bright blue eyes filled with tears streaming down her face. 

“I know, love, it’s a lot to hold onto by yourself. Let me hold onto it with you. If you let fear take over your life, you’ll find yourself at the bottom of a hole you dug yourself. We need to find your drive and passion again, and I promise you that the rest will come naturally. You’re never alone as long as I’m here.”

Paige lets her words settle, really taking them in before whispering, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Azzi says softly, cradling Paige’s face. Something about it felt like a promise. 

“C’mon, P, let’s get you to bed.”

The girls get in their PJs and slip under the covers. 

“Az?” Paige turned to face her best friend.

“Yeah?”

“Can you, uh, c-can you hold me?” This isn’t the confident Paige everyone is used to seeing. This is the Paige only Azzi has the privilege to see. 

“Of course, P.” Azzi opened her arms, and Paige immediately shuffled her way into Azzi, grabbing her shirt again for comfort. 

“I’m sorry, Az.”

“Don’t be. You’re always my best friend before anything. I’ll always be here for you.” Azzi squeezed her tighter, emphasizing her words. 

“Yeah, best friends.” Paige shoved her head further into Azzi’s neck, holding back more tears. Azzi runs her fingers through Paige’s hair and kisses her temple. 

“It’s gonna be okay, P.” 

Azzi isn’t sure who she's trying to reassure more, Paige or herself. 

[enhateez]

BF!ATEEZ & WHEN YOU LEARN ABOUT THEIR HOBBIES | ATEEZ

pairing : : bf!ateez x gn!reader

genre : : pure fluff

warnings : : none but a suggestive line if you squint (or its just me being dirty minded 🤷🏻‍♀️ )

author's note : : these are just my headcanons! they may differ from yours, so don't take them srsly <3 I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing this 💕 thank you for requesting this @atinyyuyu 💖

KIM HONG JOONG !

You walk into Hongjoong’s studio, casually pointing at something on his screen, mentioning a term he’s always ranted about.

He freezes. His eyes go wide like you just uncovered his biggest secret. Hands pause mid-air, hovering over his keyboard.

Blush creeps up his ears as he stares at you. “How… do you know that?” almost comes out as a whisper.

He groans, burying his face in his hands, mumbling about how he must talk too much. You laugh, nudging his shoulder, telling him you just listen because you like hearing him talk.

He peeks at you through his fingers, ears still pink, but there’s a small smile growing. His pride and shyness are battling inside him.

Then, the excitement wins. He starts explaining, hands moving as he talks, eyes sparkling. His voice speeds up, getting more passionate with every word.

You nod along, watching him, admiring how happy he looks when he talks about the things he loves.

At some point, he tugs you closer, absentmindedly pulling you into his lap, too caught up in his explanation to realize.

When he does realize, he pauses, looking at you like he just processed what he did.

Blush deepens. Hands hesitantly settle around your waist. A small, flustered laugh slips out before he just… continues talking, pretending like nothing happened.

His voice stays steady, but his grip on you tightens slightly whenever you shift.

You rest your head against his, listening to him ramble, feeling the warmth of his arms around you.

He notices but doesn’t say anything. Just smiles to himself and keeps talking, a little softer this time.

PARK SEONG HWA !

You casually mention a specific LEGO set while Seonghwa is focused on building, and he immediately stops. Hands frozen mid-air, eyes blinking at you like you just cracked a secret code.

Slowly, he turns to you, suspicion all over his face. “…How do you know about that?”

You grin, admitting you’ve heard him talk about it before. His ears instantly turn pink. He groans, covering his face with his hands. “I knew I talked too much.”

You laugh, sitting beside him, watching as he pretends to be embarrassed but keeps sneaking glances at you, lips twitching like he’s trying so hard not to smile.

“Do you wanna help?” His voice is quiet, almost shy. When you nod, his whole face softens. He gently places a tiny LEGO piece in your hand like it’s the most important job in the world.

As you build together, his usual careful and precise movements get a little clumsy. His fingers brush against yours, and you swear he hesitates before pulling away.

At some point, you get a piece stuck and struggle to pull it apart. He chuckles, shaking his head before scooting closer. “Here, let me.”

Instead of just taking it, he covers your hands with his, guiding your fingers as he helps you. His hands are warm, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary.

You glance up, catching him already looking at you. He clears his throat, quickly focusing back on the LEGO set, ears betraying him by turning even redder.

After a while, you yawn, stretching your arms. Without thinking, he reaches out and gently fixes your hair, tucking a stray piece behind your ear before realizing what he just did.

He stiffens. You raise an eyebrow. His eyes dart to the LEGO set. “...It was in the way,” he mumbles, voice barely above a whisper.

You let it slide, but you don’t miss the small, flustered smile on his face as he keeps building—his hands still slightly shaky.

JEONG YUN HO !

You casually mention a strategy from his favorite game, and Yunho immediately pauses the game. No slow reaction, just an instant freeze. Controller still in his hands, mouth slightly open.

Turns to you, blinking in disbelief. “Wait… you know about that?” His voice is a mix of awe and mild panic.

When you nod, admitting you’ve heard him talk about it before, his face explodes into the biggest grin—but then it hits him. “Wait… have I been ranting that much?”

He groans, flopping back dramatically, covering his face with his hands. You poke his side, laughing. “It’s cute.”

His hands slowly lower, and his eyes narrow playfully. “Oh? Cute?” Next thing you know, he’s pulling you into a loose headlock, ruffling your hair as you squirm and protest.

He finally lets go, but not before pressing his cheek against yours for a second—quick, warm, and intentional. When he pulls back, his ears are red, but he pretends like nothing happened.

Offers you a controller, grinning. “Wanna play with me?” You agree, and the excitement in his eyes triples.

He scoots way too close, knee pressing against yours as he eagerly explains controls. His hand covers yours at one point, guiding your fingers on the buttons.

He’s terrible at hiding how happy he is. Keeps sneaking glances at you instead of the screen, smiling like an idiot every time you get something right.

When you win a round, he throws his hands up in fake defeat. "Okay, maybe you're not that bad,” he teases, eyes twinkling.

Suddenly leans in, resting his chin on your shoulder, voice softer now. “Guess I have competition now, huh?”

His breath is warm against your skin, and you don’t miss the way his fingers lightly drum against your knee.

He pulls back, still smiling, and hands you a snack like it’s a reward. “Okay, rematch. But this time, I won’t go easy on you.”

KANG YEO SANG !

You casually mention a specific skate trick Yeosang has been practicing for weeks, and he immediately freezes mid-motion. Board under his foot, arms slightly raised, completely stunned.

Turns to you slowly, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How do you know about that?” His voice is calm, but his ears are betraying him, already turning red.

When you admit you’ve been watching him practice, he blinks a few times, then covers his face with his hoodie sleeve like you just exposed his deepest secret.

Tries to act unaffected but keeps stealing glances at you, lips twitching like he’s holding back a smile.

“Wanna try?” He finally asks, casually patting the skateboard—except he’s definitely nervous now.

Holds your hands way too carefully as you step onto the board, like you’re the most fragile thing in the world.

“Okay, just balance first,” he says, but he’s already hovering like he’s ready to catch you at any second.

The second you slightly wobble, his hands are immediately on your waist, steadying you. He doesn’t move them.

“See? You’re getting it,” he murmurs, voice softer now. His thumbs absentmindedly rub small circles against your sides before he quickly pulls away, clearing his throat.

After a while, you sit on the board while he pushes you gently, letting you glide across the pavement. He watches you with that soft smile.

When you reach the end, he crouches in front of you, resting his arms on his knees. “You look cute like this.” He says it so casually, like he doesn’t just make your heart race.

You throw a playful kick at him, and he laughs, grabbing your ankle before pulling you closer by the board.

Ends up just sitting beside you, the two of you sharing his hoodie while watching the sky turn orange.

“We should skate together more,” he murmurs after a while. Then, quietly—almost shyly—“Or just spend more time like this.”

CHOI SAN !

You show up at San’s place, casually holding a plushie he’s been wanting for ages. The moment he sees it, he gasps—like full-on, dramatic, hand-over-mouth gasp.

His eyes dart between you and the plushie, processing. Then, suddenly, he’s tackling you in a hug.

“HOW DID YOU—? WHERE DID YOU—?” He’s literally shaking you with excitement before snatching the plushie and hugging it like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

Looks at you, eyes shining, voice softer now. “You… remembered?”

When you nod, he just stares at you for a second, like he doesn’t know whether to scream, cry, or kiss you.

Instead, he flops onto the couch, dragging you down with him, the plushie squished between you both. His arms stay around you, warm and secure.

“This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he mumbles, nuzzling into the plushie—then, after a pause, nuzzling into you too.

He doesn’t let go. Just stays there, holding onto both you and the plushie like you’re equally important (which, let’s be real, you are).

At some point, he quietly says, “You always listen to me, huh?” His voice is filled with something soft, something almost shy.

You hum in response, running your fingers through his hair absentmindedly. He melts.

He’s quiet for a while, just enjoying the warmth, then suddenly—“Okay, now you have to name it.”

He shoves the plushie in your face, dead serious. “It’s basically our child now.”

SONG MIN GI !

You show up with a rare vinyl record of an artist Mingi loves but could never find, casually handing it to him like it’s no big deal.

He just… stares at it. Then at you. Then back at the record. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out except a tiny, breathless, “No way.”

Gently takes it from your hands like it’s the most fragile thing in the world. Turns it over, checking the details, his fingers shaking a little.

“How did you even—? Where did you—?” His voice cracks mid-sentence, and you barely hold back a laugh.

He suddenly pulls you into a hug—tight and warm, like he’s trying to pour all his emotions into it.

Pulls back, eyes shining, then hugs you again because once wasn’t enough.

Five minutes later, he’s already setting up his record player, bouncing slightly on his feet like an excited puppy.

As soon as the music starts playing, he grabs your hands and starts swaying with you, even though it’s not even a dance track.

He’s humming along, looking at you more than the record, and oh no, he’s getting soft.

Midway through, he suddenly spins you around—way too enthusiastically—causing you to almost fall, but he catches you just in time, both of you collapsing into laughter.

You end up on the couch, him lying across it with his head in your lap, still rambling about how much this means to him.

He keeps looking up at you with this ridiculously fond smile, one hand playing with your fingers as the record crackles in the background.

At some point, he just sighs, closing his eyes, murmuring, “You’re actually the best, you know that?”

He falls asleep like that—smiling, music playing, your fingers running through his hair. And yeah, he’s definitely dreaming about you.

JUNG WOO YOUNG !

You casually mention wanting to cook a dish Wooyoung has been talking about forever, and he immediately gasps—dramatic, hands-on-his-chest levels of shock.

“YOU?! Want to cook that? With me?!” He’s already bouncing on his feet, practically vibrating with excitement.

Before you can react, he’s grabbing an apron and spinning you around, insisting on tying it for you. “Stay still,” he hums, pulling the strings snugly around your waist.

He definitely lingers, hands resting on your hips a second too long. “Perfect,” he murmurs, voice a little too smug in your ear.

Immediately back to his usual self, he pulls you to the counter, explaining the steps with way too much enthusiasm. Keeps leaning in way too close, just because he can.

At one point, he dips his finger into a sauce and holds it up to your lips. “Taste.” His grin is teasing, but his eyes are soft.

When you hesitate, he boops your nose with his sauce-covered finger instead. “Fine, I’ll just feed you myself~”

And he does, gently pressing his finger to your lips, watching with a very satisfied smile as you taste it.

He gets playful, stealing tiny bites of ingredients, making a mess on purpose just so he can pout and say, “Guess we have to clean up together~”

Randomly back hugs you while you stir the pot, chin resting on your shoulder. Sways you side to side, murmuring, “We should cook together like this every day.”

When you finally finish, he sits you down, insisting he plates everything. “I have to impress you, obviously.”

He watches so intently as you take your first bite, eyes glowing when you tell him it’s good.

Then, with zero warning, he tackles you into another hug, peppering quick kisses all over your face. “You’re officially my cooking partner for life!”

He keeps holding on, swaying with you in his arms, mumbling something about how he loves this—loves you—but quickly covers it up with a loud, “Okay, now dessert!” before you can tease him.

CHOI JUNG HO !

You casually mention a pool technique Jongho once ranted about, throwing in a term he’s definitely used before.

He stops mid-shot, cue stick still in position, and just stares at you. Like you just told him you’ve secretly been a pool champion this whole time.

“Wait… how do you know that?” His voice is calm, but his eyes are so wide.

When you shrug and say you’ve heard him talk about it, he exhales, shaking his head with the smallest, flustered smile. “I really talk too much, huh?”

Tries to act unaffected, but the way he keeps rubbing the back of his neck definitely gives him away.

Offers to test your knowledge, stepping behind you and adjusting your stance, his hands warm as they rest on your arms.

He’s way too close now, voice soft as he murmurs, “Like this.” His breath tickles your ear, and you swear he’s doing it on purpose.

Guides your shot, his grip firm but gentle. When you actually make it in, he grins so proudly, ruffling your hair. “Not bad.”

But the second he takes a shot, you distract him by casually complimenting his form. His cue stick slips, and he glares at you while you laugh. “You did that on purpose.”

Tries to act mad but fails because he loves seeing you smile. “Alright, if that’s how we’re playing…”

Next thing you know, he’s caging you against the table, one hand flat beside you, smirking. “Maybe I should play like this. You wouldn’t be able to focus either.”

You shove him, and he finally bursts into laughter, pulling you into a quick hug before letting you go.

As the game goes on, he casually feeds you small snacks between turns, making sure you’re comfortable without even thinking about it.

When you win a round, he groans, flopping dramatically onto the table. “This is rigged.”

But then he peeks at you, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I have to play with you more, huh?”

© enhateez

[always-just-red]

Super self-indulgent addition to the poly series for my birthday!!! (Works as a standalone fic!) If you see this today you have to reblog, as a gift to me! And this fandom 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ *gets struck by lightning for my hubris*

Breaking Point

L&DS Boys X Reader

(No Caleb yet! I'm not confident in writing him and I wanna make sure I do it right! He'll be joining this series later though, for sure for sure...)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 / ?

Summary: I can't spoil the plot because it's a surprise but just trust me, ok? Look into my eyes! Right here! 👁️👁️ You want to read this. You really do.

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional Tags: gn!reader, platonic-ish! poly, some flirting, swearing, all the guys come with health warnings in this because like I said, it's self-indulgent! (I'm giving me everything I want 😌)

| Word count: 4.5k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You only have one life, and it’s Sylus’s to take.

He’s stalled. Denied himself the pleasure of snuffing it out, like he was always supposed to. You thought it was sentiment: a fondness that saw him shoot you with nothing more deadly than a wink or a smile, not that those weren’t their own, trivial little murder attempts. Now, he wants something permanent. Something that’ll stick.

His gun is pressed into your back, but you can’t resent him for it. If your gun was at his back, you would have already pulled the trigger.

“It isn’t too late to stop this, Sylus,” you mutter quietly, because the sentiment is there— no matter how deep he’s buried it. You’ll show it to him, even with raw hands and dirt under your nails.

You try to turn but the gun presses harder, urging you forwards like every other time you’ve attempted to slow or reason with him. “All’s fair in love and war, sweetie,” he says with a smile in his voice, and you wonder which one it is: that slow, nostalgic one, or the one he saves for his enemies. All teeth. All sharp. “You understand, don’t you?”

This is all your fault.

The dark, narrow corridor you’re being paraded down is coming to an end. It opens up into a larger room with abstract furnishings: block-like pillars and walls, lined with spidery strips of neon lights. They glow a weak purple, some flickering eerily. It’s still dark, and there are shadows everywhere.

Sylus swings you under a faint spotlight in the centre of the space. “I know you’re there,” he announces to the darkness, one hand on your shoulder, possessive.

There’s no response from the void. Can he hear something? A baited breath, somewhere out in the shadows, or a heartbeat, tripping over itself on adrenaline? You can’t hear a thing; the silence is too thick. Perhaps he made a mistake. Perhaps—

“What do you want, Sylus?” a voice calls out from behind a pillar— Zayne. By the time you look over, he’s pressed himself back against cover, out of sight, out of range.

“Let’s talk about this, yeah?” Rafayel, from behind a low wall.

Sylus tugs you closer: wraps you in a heavy arm so his gun is in front of you, angled inwards at your heart. He’s always loved a dramatic irony, even if it’s private— just for the two of you. “A Deepspace Hunter for a Deepspace Hunter,” he bargains. “More than fair, wouldn’t you say?”                                                                      

“You don’t have to do this, Xavier!” you shout.

“Ah, ah,” Sylus tuts, his warm breath tickling your ear: “Don’t be a hero, sweetie.”

More silence follows, but you know your fate is being decided in the dark. Amethyst eyes are pleading with peridot. Fire is trying to thaw ice. You can imagine the artist gesturing wildly, mouthing arguments, and the doctor solemnly shaking his head— ever trying to solve an unsolvable problem.

None of it matters, because Xavier is already stepping into the light. Hands up in surrender, weapon stowed at his side. His face is a storm and the flickering neon betrays it like lightning. Look— it warns. Divine violence.

Sylus’s hand tenses, ever so slightly, on your shoulder. You look at Xavier. He looks back at you.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this,” he says softly, and you’re in the centre of the storm, where it’s safe and it’s quiet and nothing outside can reach you, let alone hurt you. It won’t last, but it exists. You’re glad it exists.

“It’s okay,” you speak on a whisper.

You know how this has to end. Sylus can’t see it. Rafayel and Zayne— both peeking their heads out of cover— can’t see it either, but you? Of course you do. It’s an instinct: Deepspace Hunter to Deepspace Hunter, like Sylus said. Two edges of the same sword.

When Xavier draws his gun at light speed and shoots you with it, you’re the only one not surprised.

“What?” Sylus gasps as red spills over you.

But Xavier doesn’t stop. An onslaught: he fires relentlessly, aim not letting up for a second. His gun flashes over and over again and the sound is harsh on your ears as he closes in, indifferent.

“Sorry, sweetie,” you hear Sylus murmur, and then you’re shoved forwards— limp and useless— into the arms of your attacker.

Xavier catches you, his gun finally falling silent. The air had gone thick for a moment. Time had slowed. Space had twisted. A few, glistening crow feathers waltz around you, and you glance down at your vest. The lights on it have stayed red.

That was your last, stupid life. The digital counter on your gun is stuck at: ‘000’.

“Thanks,” you say to Xavier anyway, because you wouldn’t have struck the floor quite so gracefully as the feathers.

He’s frowning— staring after Sylus— but your voice brings him back to you. He looks down with a devastatingly handsome smile. “You’re welcome.” Then it’s gone. “And I’m sorry, too.”

“Wha—?” is all you manage to get out before you’re flung into another pair of arms. Xavier is running away; you can hear him. You can see him, in the corner of your eye: a pale shadow, giving chase after Sylus. Slipping into the labyrinth of spaceship-like corridors.

“Cutie?” Rafayel’s calling, and it must be his arms around you, squeezing you.

You want to answer— you’re going to answer— but then he drops to his knees, the fall making your head spin. You feel sick. “Cutie?” he tries again, and oh, him shaking you really isn’t helping.

“Raf, please— please stop.”

He doesn’t. “Stay with me, okay?” he urges, the red lights on your gear reflecting in his desperate eyes. He looks up at an encroaching figure. “Zayne! Do something!”

The doctor strides towards you, casting a nonchalant gaze over your body. When he speaks, it’s a bleak prognosis: “Last life?”

“Yep! Sylus already got me once. And before that, Raf—”

“Shhhh shh shh,” the man cradling you hushes, “don’t speak, cutie. Save your strength.”

“Shot me. He was pretending to be a spy,” you finish.

“I wasn’t!”

You huff. “Really? So I was just imagining you posing every time you rounded a corner? The forward rolls, all the spinning around and stuff— that was all in my head?”

“Guess so,” he shrugs. “It’s not my fault you fantasise about me being some kinda action hero, you freak.”

Your face is dark. “Zayne?”

An electronic gunshot rings out, and the lights on Rafayel’s vest flash red. He gapes down at himself, then glowers at Zayne as they return to their normal, lives-to-spare blue. The doctor shrugs guiltlessly, a slight tug at the corner of his lips.

Footsteps approach and your allies react: Rafayel cradling you tighter (definitely not using you as a human shield) and Zayne levelling his gun at a pitch-black corridor. The weapon drops as Xavier stalks out of it, his pace brisk and his presence commanding. “Status?” he asks, checking his Hunter’s Watch pointlessly. It’s a force of habit. You do it, too.

“We’re one hunter down,” says Zayne, his tone equally pragmatic. “Sylus?”

“Could be anywhere.” Xavier toes a crow feather with what you can only describe as disgust.

Okay… Rafayel’s grip is getting a little much, now. You feebly tap at his hand, but he’s too busy glaring up at your team leader to notice. “How could you?” he mutters under his breath, deliberately loud.

Xavier spares him a glance. Then you, finally. “I did what I had to.”

“What you had to?” Rafayel’s voice is dangerous. “What you had to?”

Just as you’re thinking about how touching his loyalty is, he drops you the rest of the way to the floor. You lie there, stunned, staring up at the ceiling. The artist stands, then— yep! Steps over you completely. “You’ve gone too far this time, Xavier! You don’t get to choose who lives and who dies.”

He’s thrashing about in an uncaring ocean. Xavier’s eyes are calm. “Don’t I?”

You didn’t know challenges could be issued so softly. Rafayel stares in disbelief, then looks to Zayne for back-up: are you seeing this?

The doctor is quiet as he diagnoses the situation, trying to find the path of least resistance. There has to be a middle ground. A way to appease fire without burning his hands.

His hazel eyes fall on you, and you get the feeling you’re the answer. He comes to stand over you. Crouches down beside you, head low in respect as he takes your hand and squeezes it gently, like he’s savouring a warmth that’s ebbing away.

“Zayne…?” you breathe. You don’t quite know what’s happening.

He releases a breath too, for your voice is a memory and he’ll treasure it, always. His spare hand lifts to cup your cheek, and he meets your eyes with unequivocal devotion. It isn’t innocent. It’s dark.

“We will avenge you,” he vows.

…

It’s nice, being dead.

You can meander aimlessly. You can hum to yourself recklessly.

You don’t have to poke your head around each corner, giving signals that the coast is clear or unclear because Xavier decided— worryingly early in the game— that it was you who should always go first. Step into the open, maybe even a firing line. Sylus will hesitate, he’d insisted, his hands on your shoulders and his eyes boring into yours intensely. You’re his weakness. Exploit it.

You’d nodded, wide-eyed, unsure of what else to do with someone gripping you like that.

What would Xavier say now, you wonder, if he saw you— Sylus’s infamous weakness— watching the man with a tender smile? His scarlet gaze is distracted. He hasn’t noticed you yet. Well, he has, but he’s pretending he hasn’t. He’s busy: crouched behind a wall, peering over it cautiously.

You saunter over. “What’s the plan here, Mr Lone Wolf?”

“Quiet.”

“Mr One Man Army. Mr ‘I don’t need a team, sweetie, I could beat you all with my hands tied.’”

Sylus gifts you a sideways smirk. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“Come on, Sy—” you perch back on the wall he’s using for cover— “death can’t keep us apart. Y’know what that makes me?”  

“Insufferable.”

“Nope. A ghost,” you correct, and the man smiles more widely. It’s still nowhere near enough attention, so you wiggle your arms at him, adding an “ooooooooh!” for good measure.

“You don’t scare me, sweetie.”

Oh really? You study your nails. “You ever think about how if you’d died before you met me, Luke and Kieran would’ve had full creative control of your funeral?”

Sylus’s smile fades the more that image sinks in. “Fine,” he shrugs, “you scare me a little. Now—” he stands to his full height, giving your head a pat— “off to heaven with you, ghost.”

You’re interfering with his mission, you know.

He strides away purposefully, and you can tell he’s enjoying this. The unfair odds. The chance to show off. At last, some enrichment for the wanted criminal who holds your bags while you’re shopping. (Not that he doesn’t enjoy that, too.)

He’s checking over his gun with a customary glance, and the way he moves is addictive; what he’s wearing doesn’t help. A black compression shirt stresses each muscle of his arms and back— the fabric fighting for its life. If you could buy it a drink for its service, you would. You’d buy it ten.

“Yeah…” you exhale, head sideways, gaze low. “I don’t think heaven’s quite where I’m headed.”

Sylus stops.

He turns with a follow-up question, but it never needs to be asked. You’re still shamelessly staring— explaining yourself with faraway eyes and a bottom lip that’s trapped by your teeth. It’s deliberate, of course. Just like you know that shirt was deliberate.

The man’s head tilts in warning. “Careful, sweetie.”

Were his tone a blade he could pin to your throat, he’d know just the right pressure to make your heart stutter. Not too much. Not too little. But he needs to push harder, these days; you’re awfully comfortable at the edge of that knife, and there’s sin in the way you watch him, like you don’t care if you’ll bleed for it.

It pulls him back to you, tantalisingly slowly. A finger lifts your chin, forcing your gaze back to his eyes. “I said, careful,” he repeats, making every word drag.

That gaze sinks low again. An act of defiance; it doesn’t quite reach his body. It stops at his lips.

He leans in closer.

There’s a sound somewhere down the corridor, and a gunshot rings out. Sylus’s arms are around you— a swirl of his Evol stealing you both from reality. You rejoin the world a loud heartbeat later, in a different room, far away from the last. Crow feathers tumble. The scarlet mist dissipates.

Sylus’s vest is flashing red, and he looks at you, betrayed, as it turns back to cobalt.

That’s two lives down, one to go; you’d stolen the first when he’d taken you hostage. “All’s fair in love and war, Sylus,” you smile, untangling yourself from his grasp. “You understand, don’t you?”

You go to leave, but his hand is on your wrist. He pulls you back, and it would be much more threatening if he wasn’t chuckling so fondly. “My team next time?” he asks, kissing the very top of your head.

You sidle away, his hand forced to surrender you. “Maybe,” you grin at him over your shoulder. “I’m in pretty high demand.”

…

“Raf, Raf, Raf!” you chirp, skipping over to the lilac-haired artist.

“Cutie, cutie, cutie!” he chirps back. “Afterlife’s fun, huh?”

“Even more fun now you’re here.” He’s sat on a fallen pillar, arms by his side, legs stretched out. His face is lit by the glow of his vest: a faint but vivid red. Like an ember. “My condolences, fishie.”

He snorts. “Thanks.”

“Gonna tell me what happened?”

Rafayel rolls his head back— a listless sort of stretch. “Xavier shot me. Said I’m a ‘liability’,” he shrugs.  “That I ‘compromised the integrity of the mission.’”

That was a lot of air quotes. “Pretending to be a spy again?” you hazard.

“Nah.”

Ooh! “A gunslinger!”

He’s still staring at the ceiling, but he sighs dreamily, eyes closing. “You know me so well.”

You take a seat next to him, trying not to giggle at the thought of him strutting about in front of Xavier, tipping an invisible hat while the Hunter slowly raised his gun. Gods, how brutal; you hope it was quick. A tiny laugh breaches your lips, and Rafayel opens an eye in suspicion.

You smile innocently. The eye closes again, satisfied. “You’d make a hot cowboy. Or spy.”

“I know,” he breathes out. That was never up for debate. “Which is hotter, though?”

Hmm… You scooch away from him, making a viewfinder with your fingers so you can squint at him through it. His eyes flicker open and he catches on, flashing a smile as he shoots you with a finger gun. “Spy,” you conclude.

“Noted.” His chuckle is warm and wistful.

“So… got any good intel for me, super spy?”

He hums like he has to think about it. “Xavier’s got some big plan to beat Sylus. Wouldn’t tell me what it was, on account of the whole ‘liability’ thing? But yeah, it’s big.”

“How big can it be? It’s laser tag.”

“I think I can shed some light on that matter.”  

It’s a third voice, and the intrusion makes you jump. Rafayel, too, but he’d never admit it. You both glance outwards, to where Zayne is wandering over to you. His walk is relaxed. His gear is red.  

“That line would’ve been way cooler from Xavier,” Rafayel whispers.

“So cool!” you whisper back. Zayne can clearly hear every word, so you’re quick to deflect with a: “Hey, Zayne! What happened to you?”

You know what happened— there’s an obvious, kinda horrifying pattern emerging— but you still need to hear it. Zayne shifts on his feet, looking down at the ground as he finds the right words. “I… was a liability,” he says at last.

“Oh, nice!” Rafayel’s hand shoots out. “Join the club!”

Zayne stares at it blankly, but gives in eventually. His hand meets the artist’s in the least inspiring high-five you’ve ever seen.

“How were you a liability?” you chase up, because it’s harder to picture your stoic doctor prancing around like a secret agent.

Zayne rests his gun back on his shoulder. “I was trying to be a voice of reason.”

There’s a low, sympathetic whistle from Rafayel. “That’ll do it! There’s no reasoning with those levels of crazy.” He looks at you. Interrupts before you can leap to your partner’s defence: “Like, how invested are you in Sylus?”

What the hell’s that supposed to mean? “… A lot?”

Rafayel winces, drawing air through gritted teeth. “Yikes.”

He’s messing with you. He’s messing with you, right? You look up at Zayne— calm, cool, collected Zayne— your anchor in all this insanity. He meets your gaze, and you wait for that smile of reassurance: the one he always manages, even when you’re bleeding out before him, courtesy of a Wanderer you underestimated. Everything will be fine.

He shakes his head discreetly.  

Everything won’t be fine? Oh.

…

“Sylus!”

You sprint down a corridor, your teammates hot at your heels and your breath ragged from running. This place really is a maze, and it’s not like Sylus wants to be found. No— your red-eyed damsel-in-imminent-distress is still marching around out there, oblivious. Avoiding you? Probably.

That’s when you see it. You skid to a stop, Rafayel almost crashing into you.

Perched on a nearby ledge, Mephisto is watching you, head cocked. His mechanical eyes narrow, and there’s no usual caw of greeting. You’re witnessing a professional at work. A crow on a mission, just like his master. You wander over, looking up at him. Then you snatch him down from his pedestal.  

“Listen to me, Mephie,” you conspire as he squawks and wriggles. “Get Sylus, okay? It’s urgent. We have to speak to him.”

You set the bird free, launching him up into the air so he can take forth your message, but he nosedives to the ground, landing in a sorry-looking heap, instead. The little pile of feathers moves. Seems to find its feet, then… keels over sideways with a final squawk. Huh.

“You killed it,” Rafayel observes from behind you.

“I did not!” You crouch down, giving the frozen crow a poke. “C’mon, stop being dramatic! Get up.”

No reaction. Rafayel sings eerily: “Deaaad…”

You scoop Mephisto into your hands and he melts into them. A wing hangs down, and his head hangs backwards, too. You give him a shake. Nothing happens. Standing up, you turn, “Zay—?”

“I’m not a mechanic.” The doctor’s arms are folded.

But you’re looking at him, hope in your eyes and a faint— absolutely not fake— wobble to your lips, so he takes the crow reluctantly. He lifts the fallen wing. Examines the sharp black feathers and plates of metal. “Is there an off switch you might have pressed?” he ponders aloud. “Or…?”

“It’s at the back of his neck,” a voice that isn’t yours answers.

You’re suddenly clutching feathers; Zayne has shoved Mephisto back into your hands. “I don’t—” you try to resist— “no, don’t give him to—!” You try to hand him back, but Zayne is stepping away.

There’s a presence, looming. “Hey, Sy!” You spin around with a smile.

The man you’ve been searching for stares at you, an eyebrow raised. “Killed Mephisto, did you?”

“Uhhhh, no? It was Rafayel.”

A squeak from behind you: “What!?”

Mercifully, Mephisto springs to life— fluttering away so he can perch on Sylus’s shoulder. He coos, leaning in to nuzzle the finger that lifts to stroke at his beak. Then he caws at you, over and over, like a manic sort of laughter. That stupid bird’s been spending too much time with the twins.

Sylus looks between the three of you, his eyes falling on each red vest in turn. He smiles languidly. “Been playing spy again, little artist?”

“Nope.”

“Cowboy,” the older man guesses again.

Rafayel is silent, his arms crossing defensively. Sylus chuckles, and just as you’re about to scold him, he holsters his weapon with… flair? And tips an invisible hat in the artist’s direction. Rafayel smiles. “How might I be of service?” Sylus asks you, still roleplaying.

Adorable. Focus! “We came to warn you, Sy. Xavier’s—”

“Totally lost it,” Rafayel cuts in. You glare at him and his eyes protest: What!? It’s true!

“We should stick together,” Zayne says. “At least until we can figure out what he’s—”

The lights around you go dead.

No more spotlights, no more stripes of neon; you’re submerged into darkness. The only remaining glow is your vests— three red, one blue— all ominously still. Afraid to move. As your eyes adjust, you can just about make out the others’ faces. Rafayel and Sylus are glancing around, wary, but Zayne’s uneasiness is different.

“Phase one,” he mutters gravely.

You don’t like that. “What’s phase two?”

Please know. Please know. He looks at you. Gives another one of those little head shakes.

At the far end of the corridor, a spotlight flickers to life. You all watch, caught in a spell of suspense as it illuminates nothing— an empty space where you half expect some spectre to be. It goes dark a second later. Then the next spotlight lights up, closer. It goes out. The next one lights. Goes out. Lights.

Light. Dark. Light. Dark.

“What the fuck?” Rafayel murmurs, standing closer than before. His hand finds yours, and you’re actually grateful. You hold it, tight.

“Stay behind us,” Zayne directs at Sylus.

A much, much closer spotlight turns on.

Xavier stands beneath it, deathly still. Every bit the spectre you’d imagined: you can’t quite tell if he’s of heaven or hell. He might have walked out of either. He might drag you to either. It’s that look again: the one he wore before he killed you. Inevitability. It lives in his gaze. There’s no running from it. No pleading with or changing it.

“Enough,” Sylus growls, pushing past you, raising his gun. He pulls the trigger, and the sound of the shot rings out. Nothing comes of it, though. The weapon doesn’t flash. Xavier’s vest doesn’t flash.

The Hunter tilts his head— another challenge, soft as sleep.

Sylus presses the trigger a second time, then a third, a fourth, a fifth. Though his weapon looks like a gun— pierces the silence like a gun— it isn’t one, is it? It’s a vessel. For infrared light.

Now you think of it, this game was rigged from the start. It must dawn on Sylus, because he stops. He tears the gun from its cord and lets it skitter across the floor, no more useless there than it was in his hands. Energy crackles around his fingers, thick like sticky, red blood.

“Sylus,” Zayne warns, but there are tentative snowflakes at his fingertips, too.

Xavier steps closer, mirroring Sylus— throwing his gun aside with a crash. A delicate twist of his hands and a blade is unsheathed from the darkness. Pure light, holy and sharp. He spins the sword with a practiced elegance and it’s admittedly mesmerising. You can’t not watch.

Rafayel wriggles his fingers free of yours, then steps in front of you. You’d never tell him, but his hand had started to burn.

You hadn’t missed this— this tension. So full of tempered things, meant to hurt.

White light floods everything, everywhere, and you have to shield your face with your hands. The others are doing the same, groaning, hissing curses; even Xavier is wincing as he stares at the ceiling.

This isn’t his doing. Isn’t his light.

…

“Who needs that place?” Rafayel grumbles, plucking a fry up from Xavier’s plate and poking it past his lips so he can chew on it with his thoughts. “I mean, I’ve got a private island!”

“And I’ve got guns,” Sylus smiles.

You look up. “Laser tag guns?”

He blinks at you. Nods agreeably: “Sure, sweetie.”

“I’m sure we can buy some.” Zayne is stirring a chocolate milkshake, and he stoops to take a sip.

The four of you are huddled around a table outside a fast-food place, conveniently next door to the laser tag place you’ve just been kicked out of. There’s a board in there, now graced with colourful mugshots of you all, and not everyone looks miserable in them. Sylus is smirking in his, an old hand at notoriety. Rafayel is winking, making finger hearts.

Xavier is still inside, arguing your case with the manager— appealing the whole ‘lifetime bans’ thing— and his food is getting cold. You slap away Rafayel’s hand as it goes in for another fry.

“You’ve got your own, Raf!”

“So?” His hand is quicker this time, dodging yours and whisking three fries away from their friends before you can stop him. “They taste better stolen. Everyone knows that.”

Sylus hums in accordance as he steals a fry for himself. Vultures.

They all nibble away at their food— sometimes Xavier’s food— and you know you’re all thinking about the same thing. That corridor, those flickering spotlights, and the Hunter commanding them. You’ve not really talked about it, yet.

“Y’know,” you muse, “I’ve never seen Xavier like that before. Don’t you think it was kinda…?”

Rafayel bonks your head with a rolled-up menu. “Stop.”

Zayne snatches it from him gently. Flattens it out again and sets it neatly down on the table. “He is right though,” he sighs. “Stop.”

You giggle. “Hear me out, though—”

“Ah! There you are!”

Two figures approach your table, and the voice is very familiar. Twenty minutes ago, it was yelling at you.

It’s the manager of the laser tag place, and he stands before you, hands on his hips and a smile on his wizened face. “I’m glad I found you,” he continues, “your friend and I have just been talking. He explained everything. Who’d have thought, huh? An invisible Wanderer, messing with the lights like that! Destroying my equipment! Anyway, it was so kind of you to get rid of it.”

He pats Xavier’s shoulder, praises: “What a nice young man!”

“It was our pleasure, sir.” Xavier tips his head in respect as Sylus sniggers.

The manager’s too enamoured to notice. “Anyway,” he turns to the rest of you, “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. It goes without saying that you are welcome back, anytime! My treat, of course!”

You all glance between each-other as Xavier thanks the man for his kindness, then waves him goodbye with a genuine warmth. The manager trundles away, leaving your little banquet in peace.

Xavier smiles so fondly, his gaze an azure sky. There’s not a cloud in it, just a bright, radiant sun.

Your budding support group is speechless.

“So,” Xavier beams at you all, “who wants to go again?”

[sweetiesicheng]

s.coups - late night

word count : 549

-

“yahoo~”

you stumble out of the club with your friends. it’s been a couple hours since you initially went out. 

“y/nnie, we gotta get you home, alright?” one of your friends says to you and holds your arm. 

“don’t wanna go home yet,” you reply and hug her tight. “let’s go dance some more! you’re sexy~”

one of your friends groans, “should i call him?”

“i’ll call him,” another friend says while taking their phone out, “go get the car.”

while one of your friends calls your boyfriend, the designated driver brings their car around from down the street. you’re put into the back and someone puts the seatbelt on for you. 

“are we going uptown?” you ask while looking out the window as your friend drives. “oh, there’s another bar! we should go!”

“y/n, we’re taking you home,” one of your friends says. 

while you complain in the backseats, you reach your apartment building after a short drive. 

right outside is your boyfriend waiting with his arms crossed. he chuckles when he sees you staring at him while your friend parks the car and turns the blinkers on. 

“hey guys,” seungcheol greets, opening the backseat door. “hi baby.”

“woah, my boyfriend can teleport.”

seungcheol laughs while your friend that is next to you releases the seatbelt. 

“she’s still plastered even after replacing her shots with water,” one of your friends informs seungcheol. “need help bringing her up?”

“nah, it’s good. thanks for watching her. you guys had fun?” he asks. 

“a lot of fun. you should come out with us next time,” another friend says. 

he chuckles, “when i’m free,” he says and helps you out of the car. “take it easy guys,” he says and closes the door to the car. 

your friends take off while seungcheol holds you steady. 

“did you have fun?” he asks you. 

you nod and put your hands on his face before kissing him. he smiles and kisses your forehead afterwards. 

“think you can walk upstairs?” he asks you. 

“i can try~” you sing but immediately start leaning over. 

“woah, woah, woah, okay. let’s do this instead. hold on tight,” seungcheol says, holding you up straight for a second. he picks you up in his arms. “alright, let’s go.”

you hug him and nuzzle your head next to his neck. seungcheol brings you into the building and uses the elevator to go to the floor that you two live on. 

“what time is it?” you ask him, “can we go out again?” 

“it’s too late for us to go out. i’ll take you out this weekend, okay?” he says while walking down the hall. 

“thanks, babe,” you reply and kiss his cheek. “my cutie seungcheol.”

“you’re cute too baby,” he replies. “alright, here we are,” he says and puts you down. he unlocks the door and helps you into your apartment. 

seungcheol brings you to the couch, and you plop down on it. “i’m getting you water. want a snack?” he asks you, brushing some of your hair back. 

“water,” you answer, “did you cook dinner?” 

“uh, i managed to make something. it wasn’t that good,” seungcheol admits, “how about some ramen?” he asks. 

you nod, “okay.”

“alright, sit tight,” he says and kisses you before going to the kitchen. 

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-six of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Don’t get my boy excited right now, babe, he just woke up. We need to take care of him before we can let him get too riled-up again,” Tim tells Bernard mildly as he reaches over to ruffle Kon’s hair, and Kon nearly chokes on the bite of mango bar in his mouth. Fucking Christ, this bastard. “Clean him up, brush his hair, make sure he’s eaten something and gotten enough water.” 

“I am literally eating right now,” Kon reminds him, his face burning again even as he can’t help holding very, very still for the stupid hair-ruffling. Tim rubs his thumb in behind his ear and his face less “burns” and more “incinerates”. He also doesn’t look at him or acknowledge that he’s spoken. 

“Maybe we should just get him a bath, actually,” Tim muses consideringly. “He did get a little dirty when we were playing before.” 

Okay, maybe Kon should’ve saved the word “incinerate” for another minute or two. His bad.

“Oh my god, Tim,” Bernard says with a helpless–and kinda strangled–laugh. Kon is impressed it’s only kinda, frankly, because he isn’t actually sure he remembers how talking works right now? Like, just as a thing? Like maybe he just won’t do that again for a little while, if–

“Color, pet?” Tim asks, rubbing his thumb in behind his ear again. 

Never mind. 

“Green,” Kon answers immediately, because Tim’s asking, and can’t help feeling just–fucking relieved, maybe, that Tim still trusts him to be good for–this. Him. Whichever. That Tim took his word on it when he said he still wanted to, like–scene and all. “Like I am in my full Emerald City era right now, Krypto, we are not in Kansas anymore.” 

Tim snorts out a surprised little laugh, but still doesn’t look at him. Kon kinda wants to do something that’ll give him a reason to, except then– 

“Though the bathroom probably isn’t big enough if he gets too riled-up during that, admittedly,” Tim says to Bernard like he didn’t even notice Kon saying anything himself, and Kon immediately just wants to suck his fucking dick about it. Like, he has been spending a lot of time thinking about sucking Tim’s dick this weekend, yeah, but he is really thinking about it right now. Like–just something about how it feels to be sitting here with stuff Tim gave him to eat and drink–brought him to eat and drink, even, and picked out for him ‘cuz they were his favorites–and Tim’s hand in his hair and Tim looking at and talking to Bernard, but not him. 

Because, like–why would Tim need to talk to his boy if he didn’t feel like it? Kon’s not going anywhere no matter how much attention he does or doesn’t get. He doesn’t even wanna do that when he’s straight, for fuck’s sake; he already wants to hang out with Tim all the goddamn time as it is. So like, right now he definitely isn’t going anywhere. 

At least not ‘til Tim tells him to. 

“Like big enough for all three of us or big enough to actually play in?” Bernard asks. “Because I dunno about you, babe, but I believe in that Bat-ingenuity of yours. And, like, possibly the TTK, depending on whether or not any towel racks or shower bars or sinks or whatever might need reinforced for a minute or two in there.” 

“Might be more the shower wall that needs reinforced, but fair,” Tim muses consideringly. He scrapes his thumbnail in a little closer under Kon’s ear–a little tighter–and Kon definitely, definitely wants to suck his dick about this. Wants to do something for him without having to worry about being enough, for once, because he already knows Tim’ll tell him exactly how to be “enough” for him, and even if he still isn’t . . . well. Bernard’ll fix it, if he isn’t. 

So that’s a totally normal-dude thing to think about his best friend and said best friend’s boyfriend who he’s just met, for sure. Definitely, definitely normal-dude thoughts. 

Kon is way less concerned than usual with what the “normal” thing to do would be, though.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Leave Us in Ruins

Eddie x reader, Steve x reader

Your relationship with Eddie becoming rocky as you discuss your future and when he begins to just tolerate you, he ends up sending you right into the arms of the person he always worried about.

cw: mention of pregnancy, Eddie and reader argue, hurt/no comfort

This is very loosely based on “Tolerate it” by Taylor Swift as well as the All Too Well short film. Special thanks to @the-witty-pen-name for letting me yap and giving me feedback!

The bed dips when Eddie’s sits on the edge, maneuvering himself so that he’s under the covers with you, pulling you to his chest. You bury your nose in his wet hair, giving it a whiff because for whatever reason, your shampoo smells a lot better on him.

His arms wrap around your tightly, giving you a squeeze like he does every night. It’s part of your nightly routine and you expect it every time he crawls into bed with you. He then follows that with a kiss to your lips, telling you how much he loves you before the two of you fall asleep.

You’re whispering in the dark even though it’s late and you both have work in the morning. But this is your safe space where you can tell each other anything. Your deepest fears. Your darkest secrets. And you know that Eddie will never judge you because that’s just not who he is.

“God, I wanna marry you,” you whisper and the giggles that have been falling from Eddie’s lips quickly fizzle out into silence and he hopes you can’t hear how loudly he’s just gulped. This is the moment he’s feared for so long and now it’s here and he doesn’t know what to say.

Bile is progressively rising in his throat and his mouth is so dry that he’s sure that no amount of water will help. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous-well, maybe he does. The idea of marriage terrifies him. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you forever, because he does. He just doesn’t like thinking about standing in front of all of your friends and family in an itchy suit, vowing that he’ll love you until death do you part.

He doesn’t get why it’s such a big deal, why everyone wants to get married. You’re already together, why spend all that money and time just for a last name change and a couple of rings. You’re already as happy as can be so why make this big life change when it really won’t alter anything at all?

“You do?” He asks, trying to play it cool, but the man is sweating bullets. He can’t just tell you how he feels right here, right now. He can’t break your heart before bed, that would be cruel. And Eddie isn’t cruel.

“Yeah,” you say, snuggling into his chest and he doesn’t even have to look at you to know that you’re grinning. He takes a deep breath, trying his best to get the courage to tell you the truth. Should be easy enough. It’s just like ripping off a bandaid. Except this one is going to hurt so bad, the kind that pulls off the scab, leaving the wound open.

But he doesn’t tell you the truth. He just says “Let’s go to bed,” and turns out the lamp, leaving you in complete darkness, wondering if it was something you said. You’re blaming yourself, hating yourself for bringing something like that up with no warning and now you just wish you could go back in time and take it all back. You didn’t mean it. You were just so caught up in your love for him that you just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

But the longer you think about it, the more you realize that you didn’t actually do anything wrong. He was the one who fucked up in this situation. You told him how you felt and he just dismissed it, suggesting that you got to bed instead of acknowledging your feelings. He’s even gone as far as turning the opposite side and you didn’t even realize that he had let go of you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, the room feeling like it’s ten degrees colder and you’re freezing without his body to keep you warm. He’s slipping through your fingers and you don’t know what happened to make him behave so coldly towards you when not even ten minutes earlier, he was telling you that he loves you through fits of giggles. This is the first crack and eventually the entire thing is going to crumble into a million pieces, you can just tell.

“So you’re saying that you don’t want to marry me?” Eddie can see the tears in your eyes and it’s breaking his heart seeing you like that. You’re crying now and this isn’t one he can hug you through because this time, he’s the one that hurt you. He can’t kiss this one better and that’s what’s really fucking him up.

Something wet drops onto his shirt and it’s only then that he realizes that he’s crying too. He quickly wipes his tears then rushes to you to wipe your tears away too, but you step away, looking at him like he’s a stranger, because at this point, he is.

“It’s over, Eddie,” you tell him, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn away from him. This is it. It really is the end.

You’re getting further away and he’s running as fast as he can to get to you, but you eventually disappear into thin air. Eddie drops to his knees, sobs raking through him as he’s saying your name and the words “I’m sorry" over and over until they’ve lost all meaning.

Eddie wakes up in a cold sweat and lets out a sigh as he realizes that it was just a dream, he turns over in the bed to pull you to his chest, but your side of the bed is empty and cold. He hurries out of the bed and as he gets out of the room, he realizes that you’re just in the shower and he lets out a deep breath. So you really are still here and he didn’t fuck things up nearly as bad he thought he did.

He opens the bathroom door just as you’re turning off the water and as soon as he sees you, a wide grin breaks out on Eddie’s face, but yours stays the same. It’s weird, almost like he’s not even there at all. He reaches for the towel on the counter and hands it to you and you take it without a word. So you are mad. Message received.

You wrap the towel around your body then get out of the shower before pushing past Eddie to head to your room to get dressed for work. He follows you, completely understanding what’s going on, but he wants you to tell him so he can figure out how to fix it. In your two years together, you’ve never been this upset with him. But then again, he’s never been that much of an ass before so he supposes that he deserves it.

This is the quietest you’ve been since you’ve gotten together. There’s no sweet words shared between kisses and the worst part of it all is that you won’t even look at him. You just continue to get dressed like he’s not even in the room and with the way you’re treating him, he might as well not be. It’s so bad that you’re not even letting him pick out your shirt like you do every time he sleeps over.

“Did I do something?” Stupid question. He knows exactly what he did, he just doesn’t want to admit it. Because then he’ll realize that you’re anger is justified and then he has to accept just how badly he fucked up and he doesn’t to believe that he hurt you that badly.

“What?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “No, you didn’t do anything,” you shake your head, putting on a smile and Eddie lets out a sigh of relief.

“But you took a shower without me.”

“That’s because someone turned off my alarm and now I’m running late.” You’re putting your shoes on as quickly as possible before grabbing your jacket and heading out the door to your room in a blur.

He’s hot on your heels as he follows you into the living area of your apartment, standing there expectantly as you put on your jacket and grab your keys.

“Lock up when you leave, yeah?” You ask, then slip out the door, not even kissing him before you go. You always kiss him before you leave. Oh, you’re pissed.

You take a deep breath as you exit the building, trying to calm yourself down so you’re bringing your anger into work. But seriously, not even an apology or acknowledgment that he fucked up? You don’t know who that guy is, but he’s definitely not Eddie. Eddie would have gotten onto his knees and begged for forgiveness.

This just doesn’t make any sense to you. You thought you really knew him, but you guess that the two years you were together were just a load of shit. You really thought you wanteds the same things but now you’re realizing that you really don’t know Eddie at all. Now he’s just a stranger to you now that you know that he never actually did want to marry you. He’s progressively becoming the kind of man he’s always claimed to hate and you’re not entirely sure what to do about that.

-

The living room is quiet except for the tv that’s playing a show rerun softly. You and Steve are lying on the couch. Your shirt is pushed up and his hand is rubbing your now large baby bump, looking at it so lovingly that you feel like you could melt. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart throughout your entire pregnancy. He’s just been there to help, not even asking for anything in return.

“What about Olivia?” He suggests. You’ve been suggesting baby names back and forth and this is the first one that he’s given that’s actually had potential.

“Hm,” you say. “Olivia,” you repeat. “Olivia Robin. Oh, Steve, that’s perfect!”

You wrap your arms around him and give a tight hug, pulling him as close to your body as he can despite your bump being in the way. He hugs you back instantly, burying his face into your neck, taking a chance and pressing a kiss to it. He knows it’s risky, but he just can’t take it anymore. He’s gotta show you just how he feels about you after all these years.

You pull back to look at him, your gaze shifting to his lips and he’s realizing that you want this too. Well, to kiss him, at least. Your hand rests on his cheek and you both lean in slowly until your lips meet. It’s soft and sweet and everything Steve thought it would be. He can finally go to sleep tonight knowing what your lips feel like.

He feels fireworks in the pit of his stomach and for once, it’s like everything between the two of you makes sense to him. This just feels right and he hopes that this won’t just be a one time thing.

-

The kitchen is silent besides the sounds of you and Eddie doing dishes. Tension between the two of you is high and you’re both so in your own heads, so convinced that you’re both right that you can’t even see the other’s side.

You can still see the scene in your head so perfectly. You can still feel his hand setting yours back down on the table, silently telling you that he didn’t want to hold it like he always does.

And he doesn’t even understand why it hurt you so badly, trying to play it off like it was nothing when it was everything to you. He sees it as simply just not holding your hand in the moment, but to you, the small crack in your relationship has become even bigger to the point where it’s almost shattered like you’ve been fearing for months.

He’s turned on some music to try and lighten the mood and it’s clear that he doesn’t even get it. He doesn’t know that what he’s done was wrong. And you’re not going to spell it out for him this time. He’s gotta figure this shit out on his own.

He takes the dish that you’re washing from your hand and pulls you in for a dance like he always does when you do dishes together. And even if you were upset with him, you’d still join in, not wanting to let the whole thing ruin the moment, but not tonight. You’re staying strong.

He’s trying to spin you around, but you just glare at him, the anger bubbling inside you like a pot that’s about to boil over.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing.

“What’s wrong? Eddie, you dropped my hand.” Your voice is small now, almost as if you can’t believe what you’re saying.

“Oh, that,” he says, waving the whole thing off like it’s nothing. He honestly doesn't even know what you’re talking about, the moment that you clearly so vividly remember that Eddie has absolutely no recollection of.

“Yeah, that.”

“I just didn’t want to hold your hand. Why are you being so dramatic?” That’s the final straw. Dramatic? Oh, if he wants dramatic, you’re going to give it to him.

You slip your hands out of his and watch his face fall then screw up into offense.

“Not so fun now is it?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as you cross your arms over your chest. “Why didn’t you want to hold my hand?”

“I don’t know, okay?” He asks, getting progressively more frustrated, just wishing that you’d drop it already. “I was just trying to have fun with my friends. Is that so wrong? I-I don’t know what the fuck you’re even talking about. You’re acting weird, y/n.”

“I’m not acting weird, you are. I mean, who the fuck even are you? Because the Eddie that I know would have held my hand the entire night and made sure to include me in his conversations, but you’re some stranger now so I guess I should lower my expectations.”

“What the fuck is going on with you? Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what? I’m upset by something that you did and now you’re trying to convince me that what I’m feeling is wrong.”

“You’re acting like a real bitch. God, it’s like I don’t even recognize you anymore. All you do now is complain about what I’m doing when you’re just setting your expectations of me too high.” The anger is building progressively and you can’t believe he’s trying to flip this on you. What have you done to Eddie except love him despite his flaws?

You only realize what you’ve done when you see Eddie press his hand against his cheek. It all happens so fast that you’re staring at each other in shock. Neither of you expected it, you least of all. You’re usually pretty good at keeping your cool, but hearing him call you a bitch filled you with a rage that you’ve only seen but never actually experienced until now.

With that, you turn on your heel, tears streaming down your cheeks, blurring your vision so that you can barely see when you run into Steve by the stairs.

You throw yourself into his arms, desperate for a shoulder to cry on. He’s been there for you your entire life, the one person who you can feel like you can go to for anything. He’s been so helpful these past few months as your relationship with Eddie has gone up in flames.

He holds you and runs his hands up and down your back the way he knows you like as he just lets you cry. He doesn’t think he should say anything right now. He already knows what happened and is sure that you just want a shoulder to cry on, no advice.

“Sorry, sorry,” you sniff as you pull away, grimacing when you see that you’ve gotten snot on his shirt.

“It’s okay,” he assures you. “Do you want to crash on my couch tonight?” All you can do is nod and he takes his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders before leading you out the front door, making sure to shoot Eddie a glare who’s watching the both of you from the kitchen. Eddie flips him off then storms towards the front door and slams it as soon as the two of you are outside.

Fuck this, he thinks. You two deserve each other. Even though Steve is his friend and even introduced him to you, Eddie’s always been worried about him and you being alone together. He trusts you, but he’s always been scared that Steve’s going to make a move with him being in love with you and all. He’s always afraid that one little moment between the two of you is going to be the reason why you’ll break up with him and he knows he deserves it.

He’s been nothing but a dick, progressively pushing you away more and more as the months have gone on. He’ll get into bed long after you’re asleep and will be gone before you get up. It’s like he’s purposefully ignoring you and he can’t figure out why. It’s like he knows this isn’t working and he wants to ignore the inevitable as long as he can. He can’t lose you. He just can’t. But seeing you leave with Steve, his jacket draped over your shoulders, it makes him realize that he’s pushing you into someone else’s arms and he’s going to beat himself up about this for the rest of his life.

-

You’re asleep when Steve pulls up to his apartment building having cried basically the whole ride there. The whole situation with Eddie clearly took a toll on you so he decides to let you rest, picking you up as gently as he can as he carries you inside the lobby.

He’s staring down at you as you sleep and hates how much he desperately wants to be the one to do this every night. But he lost his chance and then was forced to watch you fall in love with his other best friend while he had been pining for you for the majority of his life. And he loves that you’re happy but he’s still wondering what it would be like to be yours. But he doesn’t want to get between the two of you so he just sits on the sidelines and watches the two of you fall even more madly in love with each other as the days go on.

And he feels so selfish for feeling that way but he can’t help it. He’s been in love with you his entire life and has watched you date all of those other people, not even considering him to be an option. And it breaks his heart even more every time. Why isn’t he good enough for you? What has he done to make you not see him in a romantic sense?

He shakes the thought and gets to his apartment, struggling to get the door open but when he finally gets it, he carries you straight to his room, trying so hard not to wake you up. He lays you down onto the bed and takes off your shoes before putting the blanket over you and turning off his lamp.

Once he’s sure that you’re settled, he heads back out to the living room and grabs a blanket before lying on the couch, his bed for the night. He then turns on the tv to have some background noise, tossing and turning the entire night like he always does. Steve doesn’t think that he’s ever had a good night’s sleep in his life so why does he think tonight will be any different?

-

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of coffee that wafts into the bedroom that you immediately recognize as Steve’s. Of course he would insist that you take the bed while he sleeps on the couch. That’s just the kind of guy he is.

You get up and realize that you’re still in your dress from the night before. You must have passed out before you could borrow some of Steve’s clothes. You pull back the blanket and head into the kitchen where Steve is at the table eating a bowl of the cereal you remember the two of you eating as kids.

You sit down across from him and take a deep breath, preparing to tell him what you had been mulling over for weeks, months even. It had to come to this eventually right? These past few months have been so rough and as much as you don’t want things to end, you know they have to. They can’t keep going on this way. It’s not good for you and it’s certainly not good for Eddie.

It was a long time coming, you think, as Steve pours you a cup of coffee, fixing it with just the right amount of cream and sugar. He knows you so well and it hurts so much that you thought Eddie did too. You really thought he wanted to build a life with you. But now all of the fantasies of the two of you at the altar and rocking cradles are all being packed up into boxes along with the Eddie you thought you knew.

You don’t even know who he is anymore. Now all he seems to care about is getting promoted at the record store where he works and doing gigs with his band. He’s not making time for you anymore, not even leaving space for you in his bed when you come over, lying directly in the middle. It’s almost like he’s purposely trying to cut you out of his life and it hurts even more knowing that you were the one who did all of that for him. You got him the job at the record store. You lined up all of those gigs for him and now it’s almost like he’s tolerating you.

“I’m breaking up with Eddie,” you tell Steve, almost too quickly, but you’re just trying to rip off the bandaid. The quicker the better. But as you rip it off, the wound starts to bleed, badly, so overwhelmed with the pain and the finality of your words that you just sit there, silently pleading Steve to respond.

He’s so shocked by your words that he ends up letting the coffee overflow and spill out onto the table. You’re quick to stand up and hurry to the sink to grab some paper towels and wet them before coming back to clean up the mess because he’s clearly too stunned to do so.

“You’re what?” He asks as he sits back down, trying to wrap his head around the whole thing. He knew you were going through a rough patch, but you didn’t think it was bad enough to warrant a breakup. God, this is going to kill Eddie.

“I’m breaking up with Eddie,” you repeat as you continue to wipe up the spill, more confidence in your voice this time. You say the words so nonchalantly as if you’re telling him what you’re going to order for lunch. This is big news and it’s almost like you don’t even care.

“I thought things were getting better.”

“Well, they’re not,” you huff, maybe scrubbing the table a little too hard and now Steve is concerned that you’re going to remove the finish. “You saw the way he treated me last night, Steve. I deserve better.” It’s so jarring having his own words thrown back in his face. He’s told you that so many times with other guys, but he never expected to hear it coming from you about Eddie of all people. This is all too much to take and now he suddenly feels the need to lie down.

He doesn’t know why it seems like he’s the one who’s being broken up with. Maybe it’s because in a way, he is. When it comes down to it, he’s eventually going to have to pick a side. And as much as he loves Eddie, you were there first. God, he feels like a child whose parents just told him that they’re getting divorced.

He’s already going over in his head about what he’s going to say to him, how he’s going to be there for you, how mad Eddie’s going to be. He doesn’t care about that, though. Steve was your friend first and the two of you are a package deal. Eddie knew that going into this.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. This fucking sucks. I-I really thought you were going to be together forever.”

“Me too,” you reply, feeling tears prick your eyes. Steve turns you to face him and wipes your tears with the pads of his thumbs before standing to pull you into his arms, rubbing your back sympathetically as he lets you cry into his chest. For the first time in years, it’s going to be the two of you and even though he should be happy, he just can’t be knowing that you’re so broken up about the whole thing.

-

Three minutes. Three minutes until you get your life altering results. You stand at the bathroom counter, breathing in and out deeply as you look at the little test in front of you. You stare at it, hoping that the results will show up sooner but you still have over two minutes left.

The anticipation is killing you and you’re not sure how you’re going to cope if it’s not what you want. You’ve always wanted kids; being a mother is something you’ve wanted to be your entire life and knowing that that tiny stick is holding your future is starting to make you sick.

The floor in the hallway creaks and you turn to your left and see Steve leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest as he gives you a wide smile. He then enters the bathroom and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He reaches towards the counter to turn the timer against the wall before lifting his head to smile at your reflection. It’s all teeth and it reminds you of his old school pictures, always smiling so wide that his cheeks hurt.

“You’re gonna be a mom,” he says, his tone nothing but loving.

“You don’t know that,” you roll your eyes. “It could be negative.” Steve laughs at that. You’ve been like this all morning, waiting for him to get home from work so he could be there when you took the test. There was no way he was missing this.

“I’m sorry, I’m just excited.” He has been looking forward to this probably more than you have. He’s wanted kids just as much as you have and now he’s going to have a chance to raise one with the woman he’s loved since he was six years old. He’s dreamed about this for years and can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.

“Well of course you are,” you turn around to glare at him. “You’re not the one who has to carry the thing for nine months.” You didn’t even think about getting pregnant this soon. You wanted to be settled down first, married, even. But one missed period later even after being so careful, your life is about to change one way or another. Even though you can’t even imagine having a baby right now, you keep thinking about how heartbroken you’ll be if it’s negative.

“No, but I can get one of those fake stomachs if that will make you feel any better.” Steve has been there with you through everything. As soon as you told him that you missed a period, he ran to the store and got you the best pregnancy test on the market, according to an employee he asked. And then he went to work at the bar before you could take it so here you are at five in the morning, not-so-patiently waiting for the results.

“I’m sorry, you’re being sweet. I’m just nervous. There’s so much riding on this and-” the timer goes off and it’s like everything is in slow motion. You turn to the text and cover your eyes before holding it out to Steve who has to put his glasses on to even see it. The gasp he lets out makes everything so obvious and you have to turn the test around to confirm that he’s not just fucking with you. But sure enough, there it is, the faint pink plus sign. The one you wanted so badly to see.

“Congratulations, mama!” Steve says as he picks you up and spins you around, giggles pouring from both of your mouths. This is it. You’re getting exactly what you wanted and you get to do it with your best friend. The only person you can imagine spending this next chapter of your life with. For the first time in years, you’re finally starting to feel like yourself and nothing, absolutely nothing can change that.

[sweet4rafe]

HANDS-ON LESSON ˎˊ˗

summary: your dad lets rafe help out around the farm, and he takes it upon himself to teach you how to ride. not just the horses. you’re inexperienced, all shy smiles and hesitant touches, but rafe is more than happy to guide you through it.

your daddy had always been protective, especially when it came to the ranch hands. "stay away from them boys," he’d say. "they ain’t nothing but trouble." but rafe cameron? rafe was different. at least, that’s what he made you think.

you’d never been much of a rider. you helped around the farm in other ways, picking berries, baking pies, tending the garden, but your father had decided it was time for you to learn how to handle a horse. and rafe? well, he took it upon himself to be your teacher.

"put your foot in the stirrup, sweetheart," rafe murmured, standing close behind you. his hands found your waist, calloused fingers pressing into the soft fabric of your dress as he helped you hoist yourself up. your cheeks warmed at the touch, but you did as he said, gripping the saddle with shaky fingers.

he climbed up behind you, his chest pressing firm against your back. "good girl," he muttered, voice thick like honey. his breath was warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"i don’t know if i can do this," you admitted, gripping the reins a little too tightly.

rafe chuckled, one hand sliding down to rest against your thigh, the other covering your hands. "that’s what i’m here for, darlin’," he drawled, squeezing gently. "just relax. let me take care of you."

the words sent a different kind of shiver through you, one that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with the way rafe’s fingers traced lazy circles against your leg.

the horse started to move, slow and steady, but your mind was no longer on the ride. not when rafe’s touch lingered, teasing. not when his lips brushed against your ear, whispering things you’d never heard from any other man.

"see?" he murmured. "told you i’d take care of you."

and somehow, you knew he wasn’t just talking about the horse.

the warm scent of hay lingers in the air, mixing with something headier, something distinctly him. rafe sits back on the haystack, his legs spread wide, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes as you settle between them.

"c'mere, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement and something darker, something that makes your stomach flip. he tilts your chin up with two fingers, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "you sure you wanna learn?"

you nod, too eager, too trusting.

his lips quirk into a smirk. "then listen real close, yeah?"

his voice is steady, guiding. patient in a way that has your skin burning. his large hand wraps around yours, leading it where he wants, slow and deliberate. "spit on your hand, sweets," he drawls, his tone teasing. "makes it easier."

your breath catches, fingers trembling slightly as you follow his instruction. he hums in approval, his head tipping back against the wooden beams. "just like that," he praises, voice roughening as you get bolder, more confident. "twist your wrist, there you go, baby, just fine."

his chest rises and falls, the warm glow of the barn lanterns casting shadows over his sharp features. he watches you the whole time, eyes dark, half-lidded, lips parting slightly as you pick up his rhythm.

"start from the base," he instructs, his voice barely above a whisper now, hoarse with restraint. "then work your way up—ah, shit, just like that."

his hand threads into your hair, not pushing, just guiding. his breath is uneven, fingers tightening slightly as he tips his head back against the wood, giving in to the pleasure, to you.

outside, the crickets chirp, the night carrying on as if nothing’s changed.

but in here, in the quiet hum of the barn, everything has.