#While I’m home I think I might try to learn all the pieces in the book so y’all have that to look forward to

[cassandralexxx]

The Great Wave of Kanagawa; Water Lillies (1919); The Starry Night

by Catherine Rollin

I’ve uploaded my playing of Water Lillies(1919) and The Starry Night before. However, I wanted to upload a performance of the three pieces done consecutively!

[rachalixie]

can’t get you off my mind

all good love stories start with a drunk stranger, don’t they?

warnings: mentions of alcohol, fem!reader

genre: fluff, comfort

word count: 4k

it starts at a bar. 

or really, it starts with a man at a bar. one that you’ve seen before in passing, a familiar face in a sea of more familiar faces. someone who you’ll later learn is one third of your best friend changbin’s production team, someone who you should have met years ago probably, someone who you would find is the perfect puzzle piece that fits into your jagged edges.

but right now, he is just a man at a bar with a beer in hand and a ridiculously dopey smile on his face. 

“marry me, please,” he says, absolutely serious but it’s a bit diluted from the way his words were slurred around the edges. “or i’ll have to kidnap you.”

“excuse me?” you raise a brow at him, his image swimming a bit as you turn your head to fully take him in. you’re not drunk, but youre a couple glasses of wine deep and you’re not known for being fully articulate whilst sober anyways. 

“i swear i’m going to marry you,” he says, eyes wide as he looks at you. “you might be the most perfect person i’ve ever seen.”

you’re not overly fond of men you haven’t met hitting on you, but this one seems a bit harmless. if you ignored the part where he said he would kidnap you. at least he wasn’t grabbing onto you or trying to touch you - that would have sent your fist flying towards his face and probably a swift exit from the bar. it was a little weird that you didn’t find him weird, but in retrospect you must have known, even then. 

“okay, listen,” you put your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “if you find me when you’re sober, ask me again and maybe i’ll reconsider.”

“okay,” he nods, hair moving along with his movement like a puppy’s ears. “i can do that. i’ll find you, i promise. i’m gonna marry you, did you know?”

“so i’ve heard,” you roll your eyes, already feeling a bit fond about him. you didn’t think you’d meet him again, but you were sure that you’d look at this night with a fond smile later. 

he sends you the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen on a person and scampers off, and you stand rooted to that one sticky spot in the bar for longer than you want to admit.

–

he’s in the back of your mind when you wake up the next morning, in a better mood than most - you never liked waking up early, it always took you a good hour and some coffee to be able to stand without grimacing. this morning though, you float around your apartment as you get dressed with a small smile on your face. 

a cute stranger who kept his boundaries and called you perfect? that wasn’t something that happened often, at least not to you. 

the floatiness followed you all the way through your morning routine until you found your feet stopping outside the coffee shop that you and changbin all but owned. you had no stock in it, but you’re sure that you supply them at least half of their revenue, you probably sit on their rickety chairs more often than your actual couch at home. this place has nursed you through every college class and job interview preparations and beyond, and if it ever closed you might lose time off of your life span. 

your movements from the door to the counter to your usual seat were robotic, muscle memory taking over while your head did somersaults through the clouds. it’s only when you take the first sip of coffee, the bitterness and heat hitting your tongue in a delightful dance, that you notice it. 

another man is sitting next to changbin. a man that looks awfully familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize why. it’s the man from the bar. 

“changbin?” you keep your eyes on the other man as you direct your question at changbin, trying hard to keep your face neutral. “explain?”

“i’m chan,” the man interjects before changbin can answer, reaching his hand across the table for you to shake. it’s warm, his grip somewhere perfectly in the middle of too hard and too soft, and he lets go after an appropriate amount of seconds. despite the neutral passivity of the gesture, you feel something ignite within you, and it threatens to sputter out when you catch no spark of recognition in his eyes. was he that drunk last night that he doesn’t remember you? do his sober eyes not find you as perfect?

“he crashed at my place last night,” changbin’s voice filters through your turmoil, and you finally break away from chan’s gaze to level him with a look. “and he needed coffee, so i brought him along. chan, this is y/n, my best friend.”

the conversation that followed flowed more freely than the coffee dripping from the machines behind the counter, and you almost hate how much you like it. chan is a little goofy, the man from the previous night shining through moments of seriousness and rapt attention. 

by the time you had to leave to go to work you felt like you knew him. you learned where he lived (close to you!), that he worked with changbin (he’s a producer!), and that he loved all animals but he adored dogs (he has one named berry!). just an hour of casual conversation had led to you needing more of him in every aspect of your life, but still in the back of your head lived the thought of him not remembering you from the night before.

changbin leaves first, citing some meeting he had to run to in the middle of a yawn, and when you were left with chan the embarrassment began to set in. 

“i’m going to marry you,” he blurts out, startling you so much you almost jump out of your seat. 

“what?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and disbelief combining into a confusing vortex within your head - was he going to go through this again? you didn’t know if your heart could take it. 

“i mean, i remember you,” he says before you could awkwardly excuse yourself and commit to getting to work early for the first time in a year just to escape being in a room alone with him for much longer. “i’m sorry, i was just embarrassed. i didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of changbin.”

“oh,” your breath leaves you all at once and you slump into your chair, understanding hitting you like a train. “that makes sense? i think?”

“i’m going to marry you,” he repeats, a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy from last night shining through. “one day. i’m going to do it.”

“take me on a date first,” you tease back, a genuine smile stretching across your lips when he laughs, a full bodied thing that drew in eyes from the patrons across the room. for once, you didn’t seem to care that others’ eyes were on you. he made you feel comfortable. 

“what are you doing tomorrow?” his mouth turns upwards into a beautiful smile that you can’t help but return. 

“eager, are we?” you open your phone, sliding it across the table with the new contact page open on it. “i’m free.”

“you’re the most perfect person i’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says, as serious and genuine as the way he had proposed to you last night as he taps his number into your phone. “sorry if i’m a bit desperate.”

“don’t apologize,” you take your phone back, making a mental note to text him later. “i like it, for some unearthly reason. you’re cute, chan.”

the sound of his delighted laugh follows your footsteps all the way to work. 

— 

he picks you up for your first date at noon, right on the dot. he wasn’t a minute late, a polite knock sounding through your apartment just as the hour turned, as if he had been waiting and watching the time outside the door. 

god, is everything about this man endearing? 

he’s wearing shorts and a light sweater, looking like something out of a posh magazine. his hair is curly and swept off his forehead and he’s wearing a smile with the most adorable dimples shining through. 

he leads you to his car and you have to hold back an impressed whistle. you knew changbin and his team did well for themselves, the name 3racha all over the credits of songs on the radio, but this car was nice. you were going to have a talk with changbin about why he still drove the same beat up sedan he’s had since college but that was a thought for later. right now all you wanted to think about was the man who held the door open for you to slide into the passenger seat and was now holding your hand over the middle console. 

“do i get to know where we’re going?” you ask, peering at the map open on his phone but it tells you nothing more than that your destination was 15 minutes away and that he had to make a right turn in one mile. 

“it’s a surprise,” he says, voice a little nervous but it was masked with excitement. wherever he was taking you, you would be happy to be there if he was this happy the whole time. 

four songs on the radio later, one of which you teased him for when he revealed that he wrote it, he was pulling into a parking lot illuminated by flashing colorful lights. he had brought you to the fair. 

“i’ve never been to the fair!” you bounced a little in your seat, wriggling in excitement. “i’ve always wanted to go, how did you know?”

“lucky guess?” he shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt. 

“changbin told you, didn’t he,” you smile at the thought of chan asking his friend about what you’d like. it was cute, a word that you were probably exhausting when thinking about him even after a day of knowing him. 

“yes, but,” he flushes, the tips of his ears burning red. “i asked him after i had decided to come here, just to make sure it was a good idea. i didn’t steal it from him.”

“hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours that he had yet to let go of in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. you didn’t know what brought him calmness yet, but you wanted to learn. you wanted to learn everything about him. “now, take me to the fair, bang chan. i was promised a date.”

he finally meets your eyes again and he’s grinning so happily that you feel like you had just won a prize. who needed a fair when you had your very own carnival game right here? 

it turns out, you did. by the time the sun was beginning to set, your arms were full of various plushies that chan had won for you, each one earning him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. you treasured every single one, the fluttering in your chest when he stepped up to the booths to throw and shoot various things never ceasing. 

“let’s go to the ferris wheel,” you tug at him with your free hand, thanking the skies when you see no queue there. “i bet the sunset looks beautiful from the top.”

he’s quiet when he follows you there and into the carriage, his thigh pressing against yours as he slides in next to you, but you don’t notice in your excitement. it isn’t until the wheel ticks to the top and stops that he grabs your hand again, trembling a little. 

“chan? are you okay?” you ask, concern warping your voice as you turn towards him. your movement rocks the carriage a bit and he turns pale, ducking his head into your neck to hide. 

“yeah, ‘m okay,” he murmurs, his eyelashes ticking your skin when he blinks his eyes shut. “just don’t like heights very much.”

“oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?” you cry out, jumping a bit and regretting it when you rock the carriage again. “nevermind that, what can i do? it’ll go down soon, you’ll be alright.”

“just keep holding my hand?” he squeezes your fingers lightly and your heart melts. you may have made a joke that he was just trying to trick you into holding his hand any other time, but the fear in his shaking body was real and you’d never tease him for that. 

“of course,” you press a kiss to his hair, moving your other hand slowly to wrap around your intertwined fingers. the wheel begins to turn again, swaying the carriage as it descends. you keep your grip on his hand tight the entire time, all the way until you’re on your feet again on steady ground. 

“i’m so sorry,” you begin to say, the horror of subjecting him to his fear creeping up now that the crisis has passed. 

“i’m going to marry you,” he says, cutting off your apology and lifting your hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of yours. “no one’s ever been able to keep me that calm. thank you.”

you were left speechless after that and all you could do was smile at him, the ghost of it not leaving your face for the rest of the night. 

–

your thirty first date with chan ends with you crying into changbin’s arms, utterly confused and the feeling of despair creeping up your veins. you had met him your cafe as you had done several times since the fair, but when you arrived he wasn’t there. he came late, dark storms in his eyes and a hard set to his jaw and you didn’t understand what had made him like that. the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes were missing, and when you and asked him about what was wrong he had snapped at you in a way you hadn’t been talked to in years. 

you had left after that, brushing him off when his eyes had widened and he reached for you while calling out your name. you know that you should have given him a chance to explain, but at the time you were too hurt to consider it. 

you made your way to changbin’s apartment without thinking, your feet taking you to safety before your head could catch up. changbin had taken one look at your face before wrapping you up in his arm, walking you to his couch so he could cuddle you properly while words spilled out of you like a leaky faucet. you felt like you were back in college, crying and blubbering over a boy who had rejected you at a party, and you hated it. 

you didn’t notice changbin sending an angry text to chan, but the sound of changbin’s door opening with a bang startled you out of your tears. chan bursts in like a whirlwind, his hair sticking up at weird angles and a look of panic on his face as he takes you in. he reaches the couch in a few strides and falls to his knees in front of you, holding a crumpled bag from the cafe in his hand and taking your cheek gently into his other. his thumb wipes at the tear tracks there and you could practically taste the guilt emanating off of him. 

“love, i am so sorry,” he starts, ignoring changbin when he scoffs at the apology. “i shouldn’t have snapped at you, i had no right to do that. i got some bad news this morning and i wasn’t feeling my best, and i should have been honest with you. i’ll never do anything like that again, please forgive me? i’ll do anything.”

it was more his voice than his words that did it - he sounded so desperate, like he was trying to hold

onto a ledge that was crumbling, threatening to hurl his body into eternal nothingness. you knew him, you knew he was sorry, and against your first instinct you trusted him when he said he wouldn’t do it again. 

“is that an almond croissant?” you eye the bag in his hand. 

“it’s two almond croissants,” he nods fervently, his hair swishing back and forth with the movement. you sit up, sliding out of changbin’s arms and onto the floor in front of chan. chan’s arms replace changbin’s easily when you lean into him, and it feels like coming home. 

“it’s not like i have a nice couch you could be sitting on,” changbin mutters as he leaves, shaking his head fondly at the two of you before making himself scarce. 

chan kisses you, cradling your head gently into his hands, and they’re so warm. he slides his lips against yours, slowly like he’s taking his time memorizing the planes of your mouth to commit to memory. even after kissing him dozens of times you still find new things to learn about each other. 

“i swear,” he says, pulling away to meet your eyes. “i’m going to marry you, someday.”

“keep getting me croissants as apologies and we’ll see,” you say, sniffling into his neck. 

—

your eighty seventh date was spent in your bed, your head spinning like both hands on a clock simultaneously and your body exuding more sweat than you ever have. 

chan is wringing out a cool cloth to place on your forehead and it feels so nice that you moan. 

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and chan has lost count of the amount of times you’ve said it at this point. “we had a date and i ruined it.”

“we were going to see a movie,” he says, running a hand up and down your spine. “and we will. we don’t need a movie theater when we have a screen right here, hmm?” 

“but the popcorn,” you complain, closing your eyes in bliss when he runs a hand through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. an apology for being so sweaty was at the tip of your tongue but you hold it back in favor of enjoying the feeling of his touch. 

“i’ll make you all the popcorn you want when you’re feeling better,” he promises, dropping a kiss to the side of your head. “for now, how does soup sound?” 

“popcorn soup?“ you ask, a wave of dizziness taking over your body; if you weren’t lying down already, you’re sure that too would be falling over. 

“yeah, baby,” and even in your delirium the fondness in his voice was prominent. he couldn’t hide it even if he tried. “i’ll make you some popcorn soup. get some rest okay?”

you’re asleep before he leaves the room, and you only wake up when he shakes your shoulder a bit and helps you into an upright position. he feeds you bites of what is definitely not popcorn soup after putting a movie on your laptop, the screen sitting at the foot of your bed. the both of you fall asleep before the movie finishes, but you don’t mind. 

he stays with you for days, making you soup and tea and toast and feeding you medicine and being an all-around angel as he nurses you back to health. by the time you’re better you think you’ve fallen back in love with him several times. 

as you had expected and warned him about, he catches your sickness the next week, and now it’s your turn to be his nurse. you try and do the same job he did, but his delirium seems worse. the silver lining is that his fever isn’t as bad, so you’re babysitting a babbling boyfriend more than a sick one. 

the night before his fever breaks is the worst, since he doesn’t even recognize you. you shake your head at his silliness when he asks who you are and calls you pretty. you smile when he takes your hand in his and asks you to come closer. 

you tear up when he tells you that he has a girlfriend that he loves very much and so even though you’re pretty he can’t do anything else because his girlfriend is the prettiest one in the whole world. you let a tear slip when he tells you that he can’t wait to propose to his girlfriend and that he’s going to marry her someday. 

you tell him that you have a boyfriend that you're going to marry someday, trusting that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. 

—

your hundredth and fifth date was not unlike your fifth, or your tenth, or your ninetieth. two and a half years later, you were just as endeared by him and he was just as obsessed with you - even more so, if it were possible. 

he takes the time to tell you how gorgeous you look when he picks you up just like he does on every date, and you hide your disgustingly fond smile for him behind his back like you do every time you see him. 

he parks and runs around the car to let you out like he does every time you habit this restaurant, a little fancier than your usual best but it was a favorite of the both of yours - across the street from the bar the two of you had met at. 

you start walking before he does, letting him jog to meet you and complain about how you left him, just like you do every time. before him. you might have thought the monotony would have gotten tiring, but he had a fantastical ability to make every moment feel like the first despite their practiced nature. 

he calls your name from behind you right on schedule and you hum in acknowledgement, turning towards him absentmindedly. the second you lay eyes on him you’re completely alert, though; he isn’t jogging after you, but rather he’s kneeling on the sidewalk, a small box in his hands as he smiles up at you. 

“i’ve told you that i’m going to marry you more times than i can count,” he starts, eyes shining like the stars twinkling in the night sky above you. “but this time i’m asking you.”

“chan,” you choke out, hands coming up to cover your mouth as it quivers. tears spring to your eyes and you silently curse yourself - you always thought you’d be level headed when you got proposed to, but nothing could have prepared you for this, not even the thousands of declarations he had made to you prior. 

“i love you. you’re the only one in the entire universe that i need more than blood or breath, you’re the song that runs through my heart and the fire that leads my path when i’m lost,” his voice is thick, like he’s trying to hold back his emotions long enough to get his words out. “i never thought that i would feel so strongly for someone, i never thought that i deserved a love like this until i met you.”

he pauses as you walk closer to him, letting you approach him before he continues. 

“my love, my eternal light,” he’s tearing up now, blinking fast to keep the salty water at bay. “will you marry me?”

“chan,” you start, kneeling down next to him and taking his wrists in your hands. “i never told you this, but ever since that first day i knew. i knew that the drunk idiot that was hitting on me would be my husband.”

he chuckles, smiling delightedly as the tears finally spring from both of your eyes in unison.

“so?” he trails off, searching your face with his eyes, waiting. 

“oh!” you tighten your grip on him in an apology. “of course i’ll marry you, gosh i love you so much.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you please do some headcanons of Stanley being fake married to Fords’ assistant. They had to put up this charade for 30 years to convince people he was Stanford and “Mr. And Mrs. Mystery would bring in way more business!” Dipper and Mabel see her as a mother figure and Mabel likes to plan out their dates because she firmly believes they don’t go on ENOUGH of them. While they’re both on one of these said dates they realize “wait…do I actually like you??” (Slow burn is indeed 30 years slowwwww)

This is so fucking long oh my fucking god-I’m actually going to have to make a part two or something. This is just too long.

Part two here

When you and Ford first arrived at Gravity Falls a lot of people were under the impression that you were a married couple, where they got that preposterous idea form neither of you had single clue but as hard as you and Ford tried to disprove their claims, insisting they you were just platonic partners and nothing more.

It only seemed to give them more reason to assume that there was something more going on between you both. So in the end you both elected to ignore it as Gravity Falls was a small unknown, sleepy town that wasn’t on any recorded map that you chalked it down to them needing something to gossip about to spare them of how boring their lives were. But you and Ford knew others wise and saw Gravity Falls as a treasure trove of information regarding the mysterious and the unknown, it was the main reasons you started this partnership to begin with after all.

But things were quick to fall apart just as it seemed you were getting closer to what you knew was the truth as Ford made a deal with a triangular demon known as Bill, easily swayed by his tricks and even more so by his constant repetition that Ford should ‘trust no one’ not even you, his assistant. Naturally it caused a rift between the two of you as you were sick and tired of having to try and reassure Ford- who was slowly succumbing to paranoia- that you weren’t in any way shape or threat to his research. Even bringing up how you both spend hours on end documenting mushrooms, fungi and others of a similar vein when you both first moved to Gravity Falls.

However this tactic didn’t work in your favour unfortunately as one thing lead to another and you were left helpless as you watched Ford get pulled into the portal that his brother -Stanley- had accidentally pushed him into during their squabble, watching as it seemingly closed forever.

You wanted to be mad at Stanley, you really did but the man had just lost his brother, his twin brother seemingly forever due to his own actions. So instead you eased off of him and offered to help him with reopening the portal in order to get Ford back, while also giving a triangle demon a piece of your mind for taking advantage of your overachiever of a friend. Ford being lost seeing forever hurt you just as badly as it hurt Stanley and you would do anything and everything if it meant seeing your friend again.

That and probably scold him for ever thinking that a deal with demon would ever go down well without some sort of hidden agenda, for if a deal sounds too good to be true then it might as well be. Something you’ve learned from Stan, whom you leaned was an expert conman who conned people for a living in order to get by. You didn’t necessarily saw it as a good thing to do, living off of the nativity of people and their gullible natures, but you didn’t have much of a choice when Stan assumed the identity of his twin and even has the audacity to lean into the town’s assumptions of you and Ford being married.

‘But we’re not married!’ You spat, letting go of Stan’s hand when you got home after a trip into town, all that effort you and Ford tried in order for people to stop assuming your relationship was ruined in one fell swoop, was this town really that desperate that they’d deeply get involved in someone’s life like?

(Yes the answer was yes)

‘I know that and you know that, but they don’t have to know that. Think about all the money we could make off of this! They’d be eating out of the palm of our hands!’ Stan replied with a smile while you could only scoff, not understanding how this was Ford’s twin brother when the two were only alike in the physical sense rather then anything else.

‘Is that all you see this as? An opportunity to capitalise on their naivety? Their gullibility and for what? A quick buck?’ You argued back as you sat yourself down at the table in the kitchen and rested your head in your hands. ‘They’ll catch on eventually.’ You added sombrely as Stan could only watch you and feel a slight pan in his chest at seeing you upset and at a loss, completely the opposite of the person you were when standing next to Ford.

‘Listen toots, I know this isn’t how you expected things to go-‘

‘You think?’ You shot back, glaring at him as he held up his hands.

‘-but there’s no other option for us other then to keep the charade up until we can reopen that stupid portal and get my brother back.’ Stan then tested the waters by planing his hand atop of your own, felling you flinch slightly at the contact before relaxing when you felt his thumb rub your knuckles comfortingly. ‘But until then we’ve got to see this through until the end and hey maybe you’ll come to like me one day!’ He then adds with a smile but you couldn’t help but scoff.

‘Yeah right, the day I come to enjoy your company Stanley Pines is the day I enter an early grave.’ You replied but there was no malice in your voice like there was before and in that moment it felt like things were okay, even if it was brief but it was enough for you to want to take Stanley up on his word and see it through to the end.

Flash forward 30 years and you and Stanley were still going strong with the whole ‘fake marriage’ thing and to Stan’s credit a business ran by a married couple did work wonders on the paying public, most of whom would find more intrigue about how you two met more so then about the fake attractions that Stan tried to have them believe as things that once existed.

‘A unicorn made out of corn? Really Stan?’ You’d whisper to him as you forced a smile while clinging onto his arm while the dumb tourists took their pictures of the supposed unicorn made out of corn. ‘That has to be your worst one yet.’

‘Trust the process sweetheart, trust the process and watch as these idiots throw their money at the first ‘weird’ thing they see. They never stop to question its credibility and that’s what we bank on most.’ Stan replied before pressing a kiss to your forehead, something he always did to keep the facade alive and fresh, along with pulling you into his side by your waist and gloating about you and all your academic achievements to anyone with ears.

You hated how much he seemingly remembered about you that almost had you rethinking everything you know about this man. But then you stop to constantly reminded yourself that Stan only remembered these parts about you because he needed material to keep your story consistent and without any falling potholes, the man knew how to cover his bases that was for sure, and yet that didn’t stop you from feeling seen whenever Stan bragged about how smart his spouse was.

That’s the one thing that you mentally thanked him for. He didn’t make you play into stereotypes or change anything remotely about yourself to fit his narrative, he let you be the smart and intelligent spouse while he played the man who was happy to snag you before anyone else could and had been riding the high ever since. It was…sweet in a way that you couldn’t describe.

When Mabel and Dipper came to Gravity Falls they were naturally skeptical on whether they should stay with you and Stan, but soon enough did they warm up to you when you could match Dipper in terms of intelligence and treated Mabel with nothing but kindness and encouragement of her creativity. That and the fact that you could sway Stan into letting them do whatever by placing your hand on his bicep and bating your eyes at him.

‘Let the kids have fun, you were quite the troublemaker when you were their age.’ You told him as you played devils advocate for the kids going to the movies and Stan sighed before reluctantly agreeing to your terms.

‘Fine, fine.’ He says before pointing at you. ‘You owe me for this though honey.’

You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘And how can I do that?’ You asked.

‘How about you both go on a date!’ Mabel exclaimed from across the table as she pulls out a blindingly glittery and sparkly binder that had written across the front: Mabel’s date plans for Grunkle Stan and great aunt/Grunkle/ y/n.

‘How long have you had that sweetheart?’ You asked her, a little frightened to know the answer as you knew Mabel was emotionally intelligent when it came to these sorts of things.

‘Since I’ve noticed that you and Grunkle Stan don’t go on dates.’ She replies as her brows furrowed while she flicked through the pages of her binder for the perfect date for the pair of you.

‘We’re married honey, we don’t need to go on dates. Being together 24/7 is like a date all in itself.’ Stanley replied as he could feel your hand gripping his bicep tighten, wanting nothing more than to soothe that overworked mind of yours as he placed his hand over the top of yours and squeezed, shooing you a reassuring smile.

‘Not good enough!’ Mabel cried as she pointed at the pair of you. ‘I can see the love in your eyes, that love is so hard to come by nowadays and just because you’re married doesn’t mean you stop going on dates!’

‘When was the last time you did go on a date?’ Dipper asked this time as his eyes darted from you to his Grunkle as you both mentally swore to yourselves. You and Stan have never been on a date, sure you’ve both been through town together but you never actually went anywhere that would be considered a date. After all your marriage was just for show and tell and not the real thing, despite how much you’ve grown to like how he held you at night or looked at you as though you hung the stars in the sky.

‘A long time kiddo.’ Stan told him. ‘And it was the date where I realised that I wanted to be with them for the rest of my life.’ He adds, his eyes softening when the looked at you, making you smile in response as you moved your hand to squeezed his.

‘Awwww!’ Mabel cooed as she watched you and her Grunkle look at each other so tenderly. it was obvious to her that you meant a lot to her Grunkle Stan and he meant a lot to you too that she couldn’t help but hope to find a love like yours one day herself. ‘Which is why I think you should both go on a date tonight! Right Dipper?’

Mabel punches dipper in the shoulder. ‘Yeah you both defiantly should go on a date.’ He agrees as he rubs his shoulder.

You and Stan looked at one another and knew that there was no getting out of this one, but you were both kind of excited for it at the same time, after all what was going to happen? You both actually realise you like each other after all this time? Preposterous.

[artofmaquenda]

I began creating my "moonpaintings" in 2020, back when I often felt intense physical pain each month. I’ve always felt compelled to make art, though it’s rarely easy to explain why. Often, it feels like I’m driven by pure curiosity—or maybe even a touch of madness. When I started, I didn’t fully understand what this process meant to me. Sometimes we think we know why we’re drawn to something, only to realize it reflects something deeper or unexpected within us. Painting with my own blood became a raw way to explore emotions I couldn’t easily put into words.

Looking back, I realize this art was also a response to emotions I didn’t know how to handle. I carried a quiet sadness, though I never wanted to be defined or judged for it. People often think depression means you don’t enjoy life, but that’s not the case for me. I feel deeply connected to life—I laugh, I feel moved by beauty, I’m grateful. But I also carry grief and a kind of sorrow I can’t always explain. Maybe it’s about the world, personal losses, or just the heaviness that comes without reason. I’ve even had people assume my interests—like vulture culture and themes around mortality—stem solely from depression or past traumas. While my experiences have certainly influenced my art, my curiosity reaches far beyond them. I’m fascinated by life in its many forms, by the mysteries of nature, by cycles of renewal and decay, by everything that exists beneath the surface of what we think we know.

I’ve often felt like I had to control my emotions to be accepted, but not only for others’ comfort. Growing up in a home where emotions sometimes felt unstable and the atmosphere unpredictable, I learned to keep myself in check, to be “small” and steady even when I felt anything but. That need for control became a habit, a way to feel safe—but as I kept it up, it also became stifling. The more I tried to manage or conceal my intensity, the more isolated and disconnected I felt, and the heavier my emotions became.

I’ve sometimes worried that sharing these parts of myself might lead people to feel sorry for me, to try to “analyze” or “fix” me, even while I feel they may hide similar parts of themselves. It’s complicated, wanting to be open without being seen as fragile, and hoping others would feel safe to be open too.

Over time, though, I’m beginning to accept these parts of myself, and my moonpaintings have been a big part of that. Through them, I’m learning to embrace everything I am—light and dark, joy and sorrow. I’m still working on releasing the shame around my sadness and intensity, allowing myself to see these emotions as valid and worthy. I’m not fully there yet, but with each piece, I feel closer to showing up as my whole self, without needing to hide or “fix” anything.

This journey isn’t about being completely healed or “done”—it’s about letting all parts of me exist without judgment, about finding a kind of peace in the messiness. And maybe that’s the real beauty of this work: it gives me a place to honor where I am right now, embracing all the parts of me that are still growing, still struggling, still becoming.

[tartagliove]

7:00pm

who knew that being friends with Kaveh meant befriending his friends—including the General Mahamatra?

cyno x reader ✧ 1.2k words fluff, mentions of a minor injury

If someone told you three months ago that you would be a regular guest at Kaveh and Alhaitham’s home, you would not believe them. But after working on a project with Kaveh, you have been slowly introduced to his friends, including the General Mahamatra. 

Cyno was intimidating and stoic at first, eyes of flame piercing through you. You struggled to talk to him, even in a group setting. His stoicism has not left, but you’ve learned to read him and are much more comfortable in his presence now.

Which is why you and Cyno are sitting across from each other at the living room table, stomachs full from dinner with your friends. Kaveh, Alhaitham, and Tighnari have moved into one of the studies to discuss something, but all your focus is on the Genius Invokation TCG cards and dice spread across the table. All the game pieces belong to Cyno. After you had asked him to teach you his favorite card game a week ago, he carefully curated a deck for you to start playing with so you could discover what playstyle you like before buying cards to form a deck of your own.

“I’ll use three Cryo points and have my Kaeya attack your Pyro Fatui agent with his skill.” You push three elemental dice toward the center of the table, then look up at Cyno. “I can do that, right?”

He inclines his head. “That falls within the rules of the game.”

“Oh, good.” You move to withdraw your hand, but Cyno’s eyes narrow and he quickly reaches out, fingers wrapping around your own. He pulls your hand toward himself, making you stretch a bit awkwardly over the table. “C-cyno?”

“You’re hurt,” he says. “What happened?”

You look down at your hand, held in his warm grasp. Dirty bandages wrap haphazardly around your pointer and middle fingers, tied in a messy knot at the end. Under Cyno’s sharp gaze, embarrassment makes your face hot at the sloppiness of your work.

“I scraped my knuckles while working on a project,” you tell him. “It was a bit hard to bandage everything up with only one hand.” 

Cyno lets go of your hand at your explanation. “I see.” 

You sit back in your chair, noticing how your hand suddenly feels colder. Blowing  out a breath, you look at the card game before you. “Anyway, it’s your move.”

Cyno is quick to have his Diluc card attack your Kaeya. But when you start thinking about how to retaliate, he stands up. “I’ll be back,” he says to the wide-eyed look you give him.

“Okay,” is all you manage to respond with before he leaves, walking into the study. You can hear his steady voice interrupting your friends’ conversation, though you can’t quite make out the words.

You try to turn your attention to the cards in front of you. There aren’t enough elemental dice with the right elements for you to use your cards’ special attacks, so…what was it that Cyno said you could do? You don’t remember. Sighing, you gingerly cross your arms on top of your cards and rest your head on them. Your eyes flutter shut.

“If you’re tired, we can end the game here and continue another time.”

Cyno’s reappearance surprises you into jolting upright, messing up your cards. You look down at them with a pout on your lips. “Yeah… I think I might need to head home and rest soon.”

Instead of sitting back down across from you, Cyno settles right next to you. He places a wooden box onto the table and flips open the lid, revealing a collection of bandages, small jars of salve and medicine, and cleaning alcohol.

“Wait, what-”

Cyno doesn’t let you fully express your confusion. “I’m dressing your wounds properly,” he states. He holds your gaze, unwavering stare letting you know that he will not budge on this.

You can’t help but squirm a little, eyes flickering away as you lift your hand and rest it on his outstretched one. His hand is warm and rough, calloused and scarred from all the battles he’s fought. Yet he is gentle as he unwraps your bandages, cleans your cuts, and carefully spreads a healing salve over them. 

The salve stings, but your attention is drawn to his long eyelashes as you study him. They cast a slight shadow onto his cheeks, although his bangs partially obscure one eye from view as he looks down at your hand. From the slight furrow between his brows, you assume that the limited vision bothers him. 

Without fully thinking about it, you brush his bangs back with your free hand, tucking the hair behind his ear. He looks up at the action, warm orange eyes meeting your own.

“I was just- you looked annoyed about your hair being in your eyes,” you explain. Your face burns under the indecipherable look that Cyno gives you.

“It did not bother me,” he says as he unravels a spool of bandages from the box. His fingers are nimble, deftly wrapping the white strips of cloth around your wounds in tidy loops. “I was concerned about your injuries; they’re worse than I thought they would be. You are skilled at your work, but please take care. If this happens again, tell me. I will bandage your wounds for you.”

Butterflies dance in your stomach. “O-okay, Cyno. You did take care of my cuts better than I could.” Looking down at your fingers, neat knots tie the two ends of each bandage together, ensuring that the cloth will not loosen as you work tomorrow. “Thank you,” you tell him softly. Then, because you don’t know if your heart can take any more of this—of being so close to him and tended to like something precious—you stand. “I should head home now.”

Cyno dips his head in acknowledgement and releases your hand. You immediately feel colder. He stands as well, tilting his head toward the door. “It’s late. Let me escort you home.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh, you don’t have to do that! It’s only a bit after seven, and others are still here, after all.”

He shakes his head, grabbing his cloak from the back of his chair and sweeping it over his shoulders. “I insist. I will return later for my cards.”

Cyno, abandoning his Genius Invokation cards to walk you home? That is something you never dreamed of. Yet it makes you indescribably happy for reasons you are not quite ready to admit to yourself, so all you do is smile helplessly at his adamance. 

“Alright then,” you say as Cyno opens the front door, falling in beside you as you step out on the lamp-lit streets of Sumeru City. “Thank you for walking me home.”

Cyno acknowledges your thanks with a nod of his head. He stays by your side all the way to your home, where he waits to hear the lock turn behind you in your front door before he returns to Alhaitham’s home. As he walks alone, all he can think of is the feeling of your hand in his own.

He’d like to feel that again.

requested by @auraxins for my camping event. reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Sweeter Than Revenge Epilogue

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 31. Panic Attack Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: As you begin to head home after your traumatic night, you discover Tyler's concerns were valid. But can you learn to overcome your fears when your greatest fear might still come true? Are things truly over between you and Tyler? Word Count: 5283 TW: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, PTSD, Panic Attack, Head Injury, Blood, Dissociating, Heartbreak, Tears, Tyler carries Reader, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @green-socks for the incredible beta read and advice! And to @mayhem24-7forever and @blue-aconite for all the constant support! Part of @ailesswhumptober's whumptober event!

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

Unfortunately, Tyler had been right about how the events of that night would affect you.

Scott got you checked into the hospital and they managed to remove all the remaining glass from your aching body. They also ran a CT scan on your head to make sure you hadn’t done more damage when you hit it than you thought. It came back as a mild concussion, but they wanted to keep you overnight for observation just to be safe. They also put you on an IV since you were slightly dehydrated (probably from all the tears you’d shed that night).

As you settled into your temporary accommodations, you told Scott he could go back to the motel and pick you up tomorrow. There was no reason he should hang out here all night when he already rented a room with a somewhat comfortable bed before all of this happened. He didn’t respond either way, just sunk down lower in the chair he was sitting in. 

Taking that as him intending to stay, you rolled over and tried to get comfortable in the lumpy hospital bed. You stared at the empty space beside you where Tyler usually lay and you reached out, as if touching that spot would somehow make him appear. But of course, he didn’t. He was back picking up the pieces of your budding relationship in what was left of your shattered motel room.

You try to bury your head in your pillow so Scott doesn’t see the tears forming in your eyes, but you can’t hold back a loud sniffle as you think about all that you lost tonight. Scott must have heard it because he rose from his chair and ducked out of the room. You didn’t blame him. After all, he’d never been good with emotions—expressing them or dealing with them—and you were only just starting to reestablish your relationship so he had to be uncomfortable.

Ten minutes later, however, Scott walked back into the room. Coming up to your bed, he thrust his hand out. “Here.”

You blinked in surprise at the teddy bear he held out to you. It was about a foot tall with brown fur. There was a bandaid on its head next to its ear, its arm was in a sling, and one of its legs was wrapped in bandages. Scrawled across its tummy in childlike writing was the phrase “Get Well Soon”. 

Taking it from him with trembling hands, you asked, “Wh-where did you…?”

He shrugged. “The gift shop. I thought you might want something to keep you company while you sleep.”

“I love it, Scotty. Thank you.” You squeeze the bear tightly to your chest. Smiling up at your brother, you said, “I’m gonna call him Bill.”

Scott’s brow furrowed. “Why Bill?”

You shrugged, holding out your new friend to look at him. “I don’t know. He just looks like a Bill.”

Scott sighed as he shook his head, but you caught a glimpse of a small smile on his lips as he walked back to the chair he had been sitting in earlier and flopped back down. He pulled the bill of his baseball hat down so it covered his face as he sunk deeper into his seat. 

Picking at Bill’s bandage, you asked softly, “So, you’ll be here all night? Like if I…if I need something?”

“Yeah,” Scott said from under his hat. “I won’t leave you alone.”

Nodding in gratitude, you whispered, “Thank you, Scotty. For everything.”

With one finger—in an act that reminded you so much of Tyler—he pushed the bill of his hat up enough so he could see you. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I would never have forgiven myself if something had happened to you and that last conversation we had was the last time I ever got to talk to you.”

“I’m glad we’ve gotten to talk more and work everything out.”

“Me too.” Scott's smile widened. Then he pulled his hat back down over his face. “Now, try to get some sleep. You’ve got a plane to catch tomorrow.”

Rolling back over, you tucked Bill under your arm and hugged him tight to your chest. As you began to drift off, you wondered if Tyler was lying down to sleep yet, and—if he was—if he was thinking of you too.

You're back in that motel room. All the lights are out and you are standing by the bed in that merch shirt and your underwear. Looking around, you realize that you’re alone. Tyler isn’t anywhere to be seen. 

You take a single step forward and the entire room explodes. The window in front of you shatters into millions of tiny dagger-like pieces of glass which drive into you, pinning you to the floor. Your head slams into the bed and you feel a river of blood flowing into your hair and pooling around you. The wind seems to have come alive as it growls and roars at you, clawing at your legs and trying to drag you through the now gaping hole in the wall. You scream out for Tyler, for Scotty, for anyone who might save you but there is no one. As the blood continues to gush from your head, the pool rises, spilling into your mouth and drowning you. You gasp for air which is stolen by the storm and—

“We can’t snap her out of it, she’s not coming to.”

“All this screaming is going to terrify the other patients.”

“She’s thrashing around too much, she’s going to pull out her IV.”

“We need to sedate her.”

“Wh-what’s going on? What’s wrong with her? Is she okay?”

Even through the terror flooding your system, you recognized that last voice as your brother’s. But before you could open your eyes or try to reach him, you felt a small prick on your arm and you were pulled down into a dark, dreamless unconsciousness.

When you slowly woke up again, you noticed sunlight streaming through the half-opened blinds. Your throat was even sorer than you remembered when you fell asleep and it felt bone dry. Reaching blindly next to you for a glass of water, you felt hands gently take yours and lay it back on the bed.

“Hey,” Scott said softly, stepping into your field of vision. “Just rest. Do you need something?”

“Water,” you croaked out, your tongue running over your chapped lips. 

Scott disappeared for a moment then reappeared with a plastic cup. You tried to take it from him only to finally realize your hand felt heavy and sluggish when you tried to move it—as did the rest of your body. Scott must have noticed because he lifted your head and helped you drink. After you had chugged most of the cup (spilling a lot of it down the front of your hospital gown), you felt a little better. 

Clearing your throat, you asked, “What happened?”

“You had a nightmare last night.” Scott settled back into a chair he must have dragged up next to the bed. “They couldn’t wake you up and were afraid you’d hurt yourself so they sedated you.”

“Oh.”

“Do you remember any of that?”

“Now that you mention it, yeah.” You shuddered slightly as you recalled your nightmare. “I guess Tyler was right about how what happened might have affected me.” 

“I’m sorry.” Scott reached out and took your hand. Something caught his eye and he grabbed it off the floor with his free hand. Gently, he placed Bill on the bed next to you. “Guess he didn’t do such a good job watching over you.” 

Grabbing the bear, you hugged it tightly. “He did his best. Sometimes, there’s only so much you can do to protect someone.” Tears began to fill your eyes. “And sometimes, protecting someone means making painful decisions. But even then, it might not be enough.” 

Scott scoffed softly. “Something tells me you’re not talking about Bill anymore.”

You shook your head. “Tyler tried so hard to keep me safe. He even sent me away despite it breaking both our hearts to do it. But it didn’t matter. I left like he wanted but the storm still followed me. Now I’m afraid I’ll never be rid of it and I gave up someone I loved for nothing.”

Scott shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with you once again admitting you were in love with Tyler, but he resisted his usual urge to insult him, instead calmly saying, “We all knew this wasn’t going to be an overnight process. Owens told you to leave because he didn’t want you to have to face the possibility of encountering another storm. But that was never going to fix the damage done to you by the first one. I don’t know what it’ll take to heal that, but I do know I’m not turning my back on you again. Whatever you need, I’ll be there to help you through it.”

The tears that had formed in your eyes began streaming down your face. You opened your arms, fully expecting him to not take the invitation. But to your utter surprise, Scott leaned forward and wrapped you in a—slightly awkward—embrace. 

With his head next to yours, you whispered your deepest fears to your brother, “What if I can’t move past this? What if what happened last night is just my new normal for the rest of my life? And what if…what if Tyler realizes he doesn’t really love me or want to deal with all this new baggage I have?” 

Scott flinched at your admitted fears. Hesitating for a moment, he finally admitted, “I don’t know the answer to those questions. I think you need to find someone to talk to, like a therapist. I have some friends who might know someone who specializes in stuff like this and I’ll make some calls. As for Owens, if he can’t see what an amazing woman you are, baggage or no, then I was right all along about him. But…” He sighed in a way that made it seem like whatever came next pained him to say, “He seems to really care about you and, from what I saw last night, he didn’t want you to leave any more than you wanted to leave. So, I don’t think you have to worry about him not reaching out once the season’s over. And if he doesn’t, I can always run him over with Scarecrow.”

You laughed even as your snot and tears stained Scott’s shirt. “Would that be more for my honor or just because you’ve wanted to do that for so long anyway?”

“Can’t it be both?”

You laughed again and you felt as the last remaining bit of your nightmare still clinging to you faded into oblivion. However, you knew it’d be back. Last night was just a taste of what you should expect moving forward. 

You were discharged from the hospital later that day with a bottle of sleeping pills and your promise to find a therapist to help you deal with your nightmares. Once you left, Scott drove you to the airport as promised. He sat with you until it was time to go through security. Then, you gave your brother the biggest hug you could manage and said goodbye. You would think with all the goodbyes you had to say the last two days you would have gotten used to them. But as you turned one final time to look at him before you passed through the security doors, tears filled your eyes once more. 

You had found or rediscovered two families on this trip only to once again be left all alone.

The flight home was uneventful. You had called ahead and explained everything to your best friend so she was waiting to take you to your apartment as soon as you walked out of the terminal. Despite your objections, she insisted on staying with you for the first couple of nights after hearing about your hospital freakout. But you didn’t want her to see you like that, to know how bad things really were. So, you tried your best to stay awake the entire time she was there (and luckily the one time you did doze off, you were so exhausted you didn’t dream at all). So, she left two days later, confident that you would be alright on your own.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

Even safely back in your own apartment, far from the rolling plains and open skies of Oklahoma, the events of that night continued to haunt you. Anytime the wind picked up outside or you heard a police or fire siren go off, you flashed back to that motel room and devolved into a full-blown panic attack. And every night you woke up multiple times, gasping for breath and terrifiedly retreating from any window in your apartment. At least when the storm had actually hit, you had Tyler there to comfort you. Now, you were alone.

One night after a particularly bad attack, you managed to roll out of bed and crawl into your closet. There, curled in a ball on the floor, you sobbed and shook as that night replayed in your mind. But then, you heard a voice whispering “Shhh… sweetheart, it’s over now. We’re okay, we’re okay. We made it.” 

Your head shot up and you looked around the dark space. “Tyler?”

But of course, he wasn’t there. It was just part of the memory. Yet as you laid back down on the floor, it wasn’t the howling of the wind roaring in your ears or pulling at your clothes, it was Tyler’s voice repeating those words over and over again that you heard and you felt his fingers caressing your skin as he tried to soothe you. In minutes, you had drifted off to sleep.

After that, you spent most nights curled in the bottom of your closet. You cleaned out the shoes and boxes scattered across the floor, laid a few blankets down, tossed in a pillow, and placed Bill on top so he was waiting for you. It wasn’t the most comfortable of arrangements, but being in the closet helped ease some of the terror from your dreams, so it would do. 

Scott had an old friend from MIT whose sister was now one of the country’s top PTSD therapists so, true to his word, he made a call to get you an appointment. It felt a little strange being labeled as having PTSD, but then again, you couldn’t think of any other way to describe what you were dealing with. 

It took more than a few visits, but eventually, your work with the therapist seemed to be paying off. You still had the nightmares but they became a few times a week occurrence instead of an every night thing. And even when you did have one, you could usually manage to calm yourself down and go back to sleep shortly after (though you were still sleeping in your closet most nights just to be on the safe side). 

You called Scott after every appointment to let him know how it went. Since you had gotten home, you talked to your brother at least once a day, usually just to check in and see how you were doing. Things still weren’t perfect between the two of you, but they were better than they had been in years. In fact, your relationship was probably better than it had ever been. Scott was still his usual no-nonsense, unemotional, snarky self, but there was a softness in his tone that hadn’t been there before. And you even made him laugh on occasion.

He never mentioned Tyler and you never asked. 

A few times a week, you received texts or emails from the Wranglers, usually sending you a funny video or asking how you were. You missed your little found family so much and it was a relief to see you weren’t the only one. Part of you thought they might not give you a second thought once you left, but it was clear they missed you as much as you missed them. 

They never mentioned Tyler and you never asked.

You still couldn’t bring yourself to watch any of their YouTube videos, old or new. Once you had gotten deeper into your therapy though, your therapist encouraged you to. She said it would help tackle some of your fears of the storms by experiencing one, but all from the complete safety of your apartment. It was sound advice…if that was your issue with the videos.

You didn’t tell her it wasn’t that you couldn’t face the storm, it was that you couldn’t bear to see or hear Tyler in the videos. Even seeing his picture on one of the thumbnails had made your heart ache and tears well up in your eyes before you slammed the laptop shut.

Part of you felt stupid about how much you missed him. After all, he had only been in your life for three weeks. Yet you had known from your first kiss that you never wanted anyone else. In your mind, Tyler was it for you and to have him ripped away so suddenly was devastating. You knew if you watched those videos, they would just remind you of riding beside him in that perfect bubble you had lived in for those few weeks. When the world was perfect and nothing could go wrong. How naive you had been.

But as much as the pain of saying goodbye was on your mind, worse was the constant fear that you shared with Scott in the hospital. That the distance would make Tyler realize he didn’t want you and you would be left sitting by the phone for a call that would never come. And seeing Ty, hearing his voice as he did the thing he loved most in this world, would make that eventual rejection hurt all the more. If you maintained your clean break, then if things were truly over, you didn’t have to start the healing process all over again once it became clear you’d never hear from Tyler again.

Or that’s what you told yourself. 

Thirty-six days after you left Oklahoma, you were cleaning up after dinner when your phone rang. Figuring it was Scott calling for his nightly check-in, you paused your music and snatched your phone off the counter. 

Your world stopped as you saw the contact photo staring back at you. 

It was the first time you had seen his face since the thumbnail incident and he was every bit as handsome as in your memories. Pressing the answer button, you raised your trembling hand to your ear, still not believing it was really him.

“Hello?” you whispered, voice quivering as you held your breath.

There was a slight pause, and then, “Hey, sweetheart. You feeling up for a visitor?”

You let out a shaky breath of relief, as the sound of his voice washes over you. “Fuck yeah, I am,” you said, tears streaming down your beaming face. “I’ve been waiting for your sorry ass to call since the moment I left. How soon can you be here?”

He chuckled, the sound sending a warm glow spreading through your body. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Your phone slipped from your fingers and your head shot up as there was a loud knock at your door.

Tripping over your own feet as you scrambled towards the door, you flung it open without pausing to confirm who was on the other side. 

And there he was.

Whether it was true or just the fact you had gone so long without seeing him, Tyler had never looked more handsome. With his hair freshly trimmed, just a faint hint of stubble lining his cheeks, and wearing a fresh pair of jeans with a new button-down green shirt that highlighted his eyes, he was breathtaking. But what really made you weak in the knees was the dimpled grin he gave you as his eyes lit up upon seeing you.

“There’s my girl.”

You launched yourself into his arms, tears streaming down your face as your lips found his. You heard his hat and phone clatter to the ground where he had been holding them, but you didn’t care. His hands settled on your waist—you had forgotten how large and strong they were—and he pulled you flush against his body. You gasped into his mouth at the sudden movement and he rocked gently against your hips. 

He still smelled like the moment before a rainstorm, fresh and earthy, but he had also put on some cologne for the occasion. It was only then that you realized while he had gotten all fancy for his visit, you were currently in a pair of ratty sweatpants and a tank top stained by tonight’s spaghetti sauce. And that wasn’t even mentioning the state of your hair or your lack of makeup.

Peeling your mouth away from his, you muttered, “You should have told me you were coming. I’m a complete mess.”

But Tyler shook his head, one hand sliding up your body until it cupped the base of your neck. “No, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” And he kissed you again.

This time it was needier, hungrier, and it reminded you of your kiss the first night you invited him into your room. But if things were headed in that same direction….

“Ty,” you moaned against his lips, your bare toes curling on the concrete as a jolt of pleasure went through your core. “Not here. We can’t do this in the hall.”

Reluctantly, he pulled away, his green eyes dark and his lips swollen. “I’m sorry,” he panted. “I, uh, I let things get away from me for a moment.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled at him, still amazed he was standing before you even as you still tasted him on your tongue. Grabbing his hand, you cried, “God, I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He smiled back then grabbed his phone and hat off the floor. You chuckled softly as you noticed his call to your phone was still active just before he ended it. 

As he grabbed his things, you quickly reentered your apartment and tried to do a five-second cleaning job: flinging dirty clothes into your bedroom, tossing old take-out boxes into the pantry, stuffing your vibrator deep into the couch cushions. You whirled around just in time to see Tyler walking through the door with his hat and duffle bag in hand.

He looked around the small apartment and let out a whistle. “Nice place. It feels very…you.”

“Thanks, I guess.” You walked over and took his hand. “I can’t believe you’re here! How did you even know where to find me?”

Tyler grinned. “Your brother. He gave me your address before Storm PAR left for the season.”

Your jaw dropped open. “He knew? I talk to that dickhead every day and he didn’t tell me! Oh, the next time I talk to him, he’s getting a fucking earful.”

Tyler laughed as he trailed his knuckles across your jawline. “It’s called a surprise, sweetheart.” But then the light dimmed slightly in his eyes and his tone became slightly more serious. “And I wanted to make sure he thought you’d want to see me. I didn’t want to just show up only to find out you decided it was better to cut all ties with everything that happened, including me.”

You shook your head. “Never. I’ve missed you every fucking day since I left, Tyler Owens, and sometimes, the hope of having this moment was all that kept me going.”

“How’ve you been? I didn’t want to invade your privacy by asking Scott and he never offered any information so…” He shrugged, not knowing how to end the thought.

You hesitated for a moment as you tried to find your own words. “I’m…okay. You were right and I’ve struggled with what happened. They say I have PTSD, but I’ve got a really great therapist and I’m making progress. It hasn’t been easy, but I’m getting through it.”

“That’s my girl,” Tyler whispered. He brushed a stray piece of hair off your face. “I’m just so sorry any of this happened. And I’m so sorry I couldn’t—”

“No,” you cut him off. “I told you before, Ty, I’m only alive because of what you did. So you’re not allowed to blame yourself for anything that happened. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He started to say something else, but it was just off by a large yawn. Suddenly realizing your manners (you didn’t have the same instinctual courtesy as Tyler did apparently), you took his hand and led him to the couch. “Oh god, I’m such a bad host. Do you want anything to eat or drink? I’ve still got a little spaghetti leftover from dinner or we can order something.”

Tyler smiled as he allowed you to drag him across the room. “No thanks, sweetheart. I grabbed something at the airport.”

You stopped. “Wait, you came straight from the airport?”

“Yeah, so?”

“No wonder you seemed tired! Do you want to lay down? Or take a shower or something? And—” Another sobering thought just occurred to you. “A-and how long are you planning on staying?”

Tyler squeezed your hand. “I can leave whenever you want me to but I have about a month before I have to be back to Arkansas. Everything else I can do from here or by talking with the crew.”

“A month?” Your heart fluttered in your chest. “I get you for a whole month?”

“Or until you’re sick of me.”

“Not gonna happen.” You pulled Tyler down for another kiss.

When you parted, Tyler sighed, “Now that you mentioned it though, I do think I’d like to take a shower if that’s alright. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, of course.” You tucked into the other room and grabbed a towel. Then you flipped on the light in the bathroom. “Soaps in the shower and if you need anything else, just call.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He kissed you on the forehead then ducked into the bathroom. “I’ll just be a minute.”

When he went to take a shower and wash off all his travel funk, you settled onto the couch. You quickly shot Scott a strongly worded text about him keeping this from you…but then added a thank you at the end for helping Tyler get to you.

Since the shower was still on, you pulled up the Wrangler’s YouTube channel on your iPad to watch a few of the videos you missed. It’s great seeing the whole crew again, but you noticed there was a significant change in their demeanor. They weren’t as energetic or wild as usual, especially Tyler. He was still putting on a show, but you could tell it was forced. 

Surprisingly, seeing the storm didn’t bother you in the slightest. Maybe it was the fact you always felt safe within Tyler’s truck. Or maybe it was because it was just a video and you knew it couldn’t hurt you. Or maybe it was just because Tyler was in the other room and you knew you were safe. But at least that was one goal marked off your therapy list.

As the video began to wind down, you began scrolling for another to click on when you heard Tyler giving his send-off. “As always, if you feel it, chase it! And, sweetheart—” Your eyes grew wide and you quickly scrolled to the top of the screen to see Tyler staring deeply into the camera, as if he were staring into your soul “—if you’re watching this, I love you. And I miss you so damn much.” He blew a kiss to the screen and the video ended. 

Stunned, you stared at the frozen image of the man you loved, his lips still puckered in his kiss for you. Quickly, you clicked on the next video and jumped to the very end. Tyler was saying something about getting a stronger balloon string next time, then he smiled at the camera and added, “Whether you ever see this or not, I love you, sweetheart. I hope you’re doing okay.”

You quickly clicked on the next one and skipped to the end. Tyler stood outside the truck with his hands on his hips, staring up at the now clear blue sky. Wiping the back of his hand across his eyes, he sighed and choked out, “Goddamn, you would have loved this one, sweetheart. Chases like this just aren’t the same without you next to me. I love you.”

You go through almost every video the Wranglers posted since you left. Even and every one of them ended with some variation of Tyler saying he loved you. With your heart nearly bursting, you played the last video, the one they posted yesterday as their final chase of the season. It showed Tyler grinning into the camera so wide his dimples were on clear display as he said, “I love you, sweetheart, and it’s finally time I chased ya. See you soon, my brave, beautiful girl.”

The iPad tumbled to the floor. All this time you had been so afraid Tyler wouldn’t come that you had avoided his videos. Yet, if you had just trusted him to keep his word, you would have known from day one not to doubt him or his feelings towards you. 

Standing, you stepped over the iPad and walked over to the bathroom. You heard the shower still running but you didn’t even knock before you turned the handle and went in. Tyler was rubbing soap all over his defined chest as you pulled the curtain back. He froze, not seemingly bothered by your intrusion, just confused.

He gave you a moment to explain what was happening, but when you didn’t speak, he asked,  “Hey, is everything okay?”

Without removing your clothes, you stepped into the shower. As water poured over your head, soaking you and weighing down your clothes, you placed your hands on either side of Tyler’s face. 

As he stared at you, concern etched on his face, you whispered, “I love you, too, Ty. And even if we have to do long distance for a while or make some big life decisions moving forward, I’m all in. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Tyler’s face softened and he tilted his face to kiss your palm. Then, he slid his arms around you, drawing you into his bare, soapy chest. Your arms wrapped around him as you rested your cheek against his tattoo while he stroked the nearly identical one on your back. And as he kissed the top of your head, he murmured, “Well, you better get comfortable, sweetheart. Because I’m never letting you go again.”

The two of you stood there embraced in each other’s arms underneath the spray until the water grew cold. And even then, you only separated long enough to strip off your clothes, both dry off, and for you to lead him into the bedroom. There, you lay on the bed facing each other and snuggled tightly together. There would be time for more rigorous and exciting bedroom activities later. Right now, you just savored the sound of his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin. 

You had gone to Oklahoma to find your brother. When that went south, you had sought out revenge. But it turned out you found something sweeter—you found the love of your life. 

And now, you intended to spend the rest of your life in his arms. 

Thank you to everyone who has read, reblogged, and commented throughout this series. Your support and love along the way has kept me motivated and excited to continue this series 💞 While the series may be over, I am more than happy to return to this world and its characters with one-shots and headcanons if desired. I pretty much have their entire future planned out in my head 😂 So if anyone is ever missing them, feel free to send me an ask or question about Tyler and Reader's future after the end of this story.

Tag list: @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @blue-aconite, @hederasgarden, @writercole,

@ryebecca, @heart-0n-fire, @nerdysuperchick, @ohtobeleah, @slightly-psycho-multifan,

@sunlightmurdock, @xoxabs88xox, @superchatnoir07, @love2write2626, @smoothdogsgirl,

@rebecca0may, @hereiamhereigo, @nerdalicios, @28cnn, @obsessed-fan-alert,

@ddarling-ddearest-ddead, @sehnsuchts-trunken, @taorislover94, @sweetdayme4427, @marisha-3,

@hopeurokays, @lonelysoul50, @bobfloydssunnies, @rebra1863, @mirrorball-6,

@phoenixhalliwell, @mysticalfuncollectorus, @hellkaisersangel, @stoneyggirl2

@how-what-why-huh, @axolotllover225, @holybatflapexpert, @princesssterek, @autumnleaves1991-blog

@cevansbaby-dove, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @fandomprincess1994, @wpdarlingpan, @maverick-wingman

@unknowntoyou2205, @child-of-of-the-sunshine, @dream03, @djs8891, @puttyly

@loserbaby66, @mylovelykelsifer, @onlyangel-444, @omgbrianab, @allonzigiga

@lonelyghosts-stuff, @lindsayjoy444, @clairewritesandrambles, @lukeevangelista, @hookslove1592

@loreng2622, @weebgirl21, @winterassassin1804, @bunbunbl0gs, @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | October 1st-13th 2024

Hope all my fellow Canadians had a good long weekend! Had a week from hell last week so I didn't have time to put up the rec, and it's even a bit late for today, but I did it!

If you know anyone who's not tagged, please don't hesitate to tag them in the comments!

Complete

Siri, Call... by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Sickfic | 1,5K | General): Buck is sick and needs to call for help.

for thy true-love take by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Outsider POV, Established buddie | 2K | Teen): OR: Chimney Han and the ethics of slipping your coworkers love potions

watch out, you might get what you're after by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Getting Together | 2K | Mature): Buck unintentionally woos Eddie. And then has a hell of a time processing the way he feels about that.

i hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this) by bellabrady (Getting Together | 2K | Not Rated): Or: How Buck and Eddie's first kiss leads to someone calling the police on them.

Put To Good Use by kittyeddie (PWP, BDSM | 3K | Explicit): Or, Buck and Eddie finally have a kid-free day at home, and take advantage of every second of it

At First Scent by Inell/ @inell (Urban Fantasy AU | 4K | Teen): When Buck visits Maddie, he meets Chris, a magic user needing his sister’s help learning how to use his powers. He also meets Eddie, Christopher’s dad, and feels a connection that he’s only ever dreamed of finding.

Bears, and Foxes, and a Three-Legged Bobcat by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Pre-Buddie, First Date | 4K | General): Buck and Eddie go on a non-date date to a wildlife park. Cuteness ensues.

Just Right by Inell/ @inell (Future fic, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): After getting injured on a call, Buck wakes up the next morning and tries to piece together what happened, accidentally changing his relationship with Eddie in the process.

to adam, from your ribs by justhockey (S8, Getting Together | 4K | General): And the thing is, Buck is so good at being alone; he’s been doing it almost his whole life. But when he’s reminded of the way love tastes, drizzled like honey on your tongue - the way it feels, like the warm glow of sunlight on your skin. That is when he truly aches. Not the breaking, because he’s done that a thousand times over. It’s the knowing that really does him in. The having, for just a little while, before it’s snatched away so quickly he can still feel the burn on his fingertips from trying to hold on.

Hall Pass by Inell/ @inell (Post-S7, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): After Buck and Eddie take Jee and Mara trick or treating, Chim and Maddie play a trick of their own to help Buck finally make a move on Eddie.

it's leading me on, every time we touch by lightyears (Post-S6, Getting Together | 5K | Explicit): Eddie doesn’t think anything of it when he reaches across the table to pile some pasta onto his plate, says, “Just my back. It’s been giving me a bit of trouble.” “You’re hurt, Eddie?” Bobby asks him, and Eddie’s sure that his intention isn’t to capture the rest of the team’s attention, but by way of being Captain, it happens anyway. “I promise, Cap. I’m good. But if it helps, I can go speak with a doctor, make sure nothing else is going on.” Chim chirps up: “A physio probably makes more sense than a doctor.” “Or an occupational therapist,” Ravi suggests, and Eddie’s sure it’s to stave off a Chim-Hen showdown. “Even a massage therapist would probably help.” And then Maddie says, “Buck used to be a massage therapist” and everyone goes quiet, heads all swinging in Buck’s direction.

sweet sunbursts of flesh pink magic by Underhung_Aura/ @eddiebabygirldiaz (Canon Divergent, Witch Buck, Sex Pollen | 5K | Explicit): Buck’s magic has always been a bit volatile. Jittery. Fluctuating. A touch reckless. Messy and bright and loud. Maddie says that a person’s magic is supposed to match the person themselves, that the form it takes isn’t happenstance or random, that it’s a reflection of your purest self, an extension of your soul that you can manipulate. Safe to say, Buck’s never cared for that assessment. or, buck has magic and eddie gets doused with sex pollen

Happy Accident by Inell/ @inell (Post-S8E01: Buzzkill, Friends to Fiances | 6K | Teen): When Buck gets some good news, he accidentally kisses Eddie, which leads to a conversation that changes their relationship.

Kissing On The Corner, Wait For Just A Minute by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Secret Relationship | 6K | Teen): Buck and Eddie think they're so smooth. They're cool, calm, collected. Normal, in fact. Just two normal best friends. Nothing to see here. Nobody is convinced.

Does it bite at your edges? by noxeratum (Infidelity, Post-S7, Getting Together | 6K | Explicit): Eddie Diaz is so repressed that he thinks his jealousy is bigotry and feels bad about it.

Talk Dirty to Me by ameliahart (Post-S7, FWB | 6K | Explicit): In which Buck has recently ended things with Tommy, Eddie wants to explore his sexuality, and they decide to start sleeping together. As friends, of course.

Through the Looking Glass by jukoist/ @beforejuko (Post-S8E01: Buzzkill, Getting Together | 6K | General): Buck likes Tommy. He does! And he definitely isn't in love with Eddie. He's just... worried. Because Eddie keeps vanishing on Sundays, leaving Buck with the boyfriend he definitely likes as much as he should. Everything is fine. Or, a post 8x01 coda.

Basics, Understanding Basics by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Post-S7, Getting Together | 7K | Teen): Chris gets sick, loses part of his memory, and reassures Eddie and Buck they can still kiss in front of him. That's really thoughtful of him, except for the fact that Eddie and Buck aren't dating.

🔥All The Things You Want From Me by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Post-S7, Getting Together | 7K | Teen): “Can I ask you something?” Eddie shrugs. “Sure.” Tommy looks nervous, unsure. Tommy never looks nervous, or unsure. “Do you think Evan would move in with me if I asked him?” (Or the one where Eddie feels Buck slipping through his fingers and can’t let him go, so he tells him not to move in with Tommy and blows everything apart.)

My Carpet’s Got Crop Circles by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Eddie & Karen, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): Or, five times Karen tries to use wine nights to get Eddie and Buck together, and the one time she didn't need to.

🔥Late Fines by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Librarian!Buck | 12K | Teen): Buck is a children's librarian at the branch closest to Eddie's house. When he gets himself involved in the lives of a cute kid and his handsome single dad, he gets a glimpse of what he wants in life. It might just take a few years to get it.

Eddie Diaz VS The Buck's Boyfriend Agenda by songbvrd/ @songbvrd (Post-S7, BuckTommy Break-Up | 23K | Mature): Eddie starts gathering information about why no one trusts Tommy. As he grows to hate their relationship more, he learns more about himself and what he wants.

🔥 ice cream before dinner by cloudydaisies (Post-S7, Getting Together | 58K | Teen): or, gerrard messes with the team's schedules and eddie 'i just drove my son to flee the state' diaz is the only option to watch mara and jee-yun after school on tuesdays, which, shouldn't be a problem at all, right?

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 102K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

WIP

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 5/? | 32K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 9/14 | 40K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

Podfic

[Podfic] déjà vu by NC Pods (N0Connections)/ @n0connections // fic by peaktotheocean/ @peaktotheocean (S7E07: Ghost of a Second Chance | 10-20min | General): It is completely possible that Buck put too much thought into buying his couch. But Eddie can’t think of anyone else in his life who would buy a couch just so his kid would be comfortable.

🔥 [Podfic] With a Little Help From my Friends by MeggieJolly/ @meggiejolly // fic  by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (Post-S3, Feelings Realization | 10-20min | Teen): “You know…several of us parents get together once, maybe twice a month or so. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. I can add you to the email chain.” Not for the first time that day, Eddie’s surprised. It’s not that he’s opposed, more that the invitation is unexpected. He’s not particularly social—when he is it’s with the team or with Buck or with his family, all of them in each other’s houses, in each other’s lives both at work and away from it. Outside of them… It occurs to him that he’s never really known how to make friends. [Or: Eddie makes friends outside of work and realizes that Buck might not, in fact, be just a friend]

🔥 as lucky as us [Podfic] by blackglass/ @blackestglass // fic by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (Ravi POV, S7 | 20-30min | General): One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.

🔥 [podfic] baby, can i hold you? by All_I_Ask/ @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove // fic by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck (pre-Buddie, angst/comfort | 30-45min | Teen): Eddie’s eyes are squeezed shut, and Buck feels something inside him crack when this helpless, devastated sob wracks his body, eyelashes clumped with tears he’s not letting fall. “What do you need?” Buck asks again. “What can I do?” Eddie makes a frustrated noise. “I don’t know. I don’t know why this won’t stop.” or, eddie panics. buck holds him.

🔥 Heart, I Implore You [Podfic] by ReformedTsunderePodfics (ReformedTsundere)/ @film-in-my-soul // fic by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampire Eddie, PWP | 45-60min | Explicit): When Buck finds out his best friend isn't exactly human, he volunteers to help keep Eddie from dying. It's definitely just to keep Eddie from dying. No other reason. None whatsoever.

Re-Read

Down to the Bones of Me by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Post-S7E10: All Fall Down | 5K | Teen): The morning after Christopher leaves Eddie gets in his truck and drives. Buck lets him go, and Eddie fights to come back for both of them.

[yowumi]

Roommate Giyu Tomioka x Reader (Smut)

warnings. masterbation, reader has an OF, they are both lowkey pervs but it’s okay, mostly just build up, MIGHT write a part 2, if this does good…

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A/N. kinda came up with this like right now and i’m writing from my ass so excuse it if it turns out absolutely buns. but let’s just trust the process for now, enjoy luv <3

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Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who started off hating the idea of a roommate, having to deal with other people in general felt hard enough, so having to live with another person wasn’t exactly on his wish list.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who worked long hours which benifits him in this case because by the time he got home, you were already asleep.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who tried his best to limit interactions between the both of you; not wanting to end up saying something rude or make things awkward by forcing a conversation. therefore, resulting in most of your interactions being by sticky notes left in the house or texts that were usually to let him know that you needed something for the house.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who didn’t have much experience with interacting with other people let alone woman. he wasn’t a virgin, of course he managed to get his dick wet every now and then after rough missions where he would get himself drunk enough to not think about it too much.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who didn’t have a high sex drive and could go months without even thinking about it, this habit wasn’t purposely, he just never really got around to it.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who learns from tengen what an onlyfans in after making a joking remark on how if he had lost his job, he would totally make a living off of doing that.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who finds no interest in finding out any more information about the website due to not feeling it’s right to look at peoples bodies like that.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who happens to have more days off recently and staying in the house more often, having to see and face you more often.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who starts to make small talk with you now that he has more time off and gets to know you better although realizing that he never got the chance to ask what you do for a living.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who brings this up eventually after a small conversation.

“i’ve uh been meaning to ask you, what is it that you do for a living? you seem to always be home” he says while facing the other way watching as the coffee filled his cup slowly.

“oh! well i uh actually do an online business…it helps me get by, ya know!” you say trying not to indulge in the conversation any further.

you could only imagine how mortified he would react to knowing about your only fans.

“ah i see” he says now facing towards you not realizing you had moved closer causing him to bump into you, dropping coffee all over your shirt.

“oh i’m sorry! i didnt mean to startle you!” you say as you look down at the mess on the ground, unfazed by the mess on your white shirt.

“that’s my fault, i should have been paying attention to my surroundings” he looks up to you after picking up the broken pieces of the coffee mug from the ground, now realizing how the spill on your shirt has caused your shirt to become nearly see through, as he takes a glimpse at your perky nipples peaking through, quickly turning his gaze away.

distracted by what he saw he managed to end up cutting his finger from the glass in his hand.

“oh are you okay! let me take a look at it!” you say softly grabbing his hand as you examine the cut before you do the unthinkable.

you put his finger in your mouth and licked the blood off.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who had never been the type to get a reaction out of, especially not a lewd one. which makes him confused why his pants suddenly feel tight when he feels your lips on his fingers.

you quickly realize what you are doing and quickly take your mouth away realizing it’s weird to do that to your roommate you barely know.

“oh my god- i’m so sorry! i don’t know what got into me, ill get you a band-aid! sorry again!” you say as you walk away to retrieve a band aid, embarrassed of your actions.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who goes to his room that night and takes a cold shower trying to wash away the thoughts of your lips out of his mind.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who now starts to notice how small your clothes are, now paying attention to the curve of your ass that can be revealed when you bend down in front of him or how your tits look like they’re about to spill out in those small tank tops you wear, noticing when you don’t wear a bra with the white ones, he can see your juicy nipple peaking out.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who finally returns to busy days at work becoming more tired and frustrated in not being able to see you. wondering why he even cared for doing so in the first place.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who comes home tired and late to the house being silent figuring you were definitely asleep by now.

it was a long day, he felt like he hasn’t relaxed in so long. he takes it upon himself to lay on his bed hoping to get much needed sleep. unfortunately for him, that didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon.

he tossed and turned until finally deciding to scroll on his phone before coming back to the conversation with tengen about only fans.

what better did he have to do right now?

after a few minutes after making an account he scrolls and sees plenty of woman revealing themselves in lingerie and nude, although none of them seemed to really catch his attention.

that was until one popped up in his suggested.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who’s heart stops when he sees your sweet innocent face on his screen, dressed in a short little white lingerie set that made his head spin.

without thinking he immediately subscribed, now interested in seeing more of you.

he felt his pants getting tight as he scrolled down the lewd pictures of his sweet roommate in not so sweet positions, feeling a throbbing ache in his pants.

his heart stops when he sees a message appear on his screen welcoming him and thanking him for subscribing.

kingofurwaters: how much for me to get you to myself, sweetheart?

it was out of character for him to act so lewd but he didn’t want to draw suspicion by acting how he would normally act.

you: of course handsome :p i can negotiate prices so just tell me how much your willing, can’t wait <3

he almost feels jealous at the fact that you text other men this way and treat your fans like this, but he tries to put it in the back of his head and pretend it’s only for him.

he tries to think of a good price to layout, he was new to this so he didn’t know what to expect.

kingofurwaters: 250 for 20 minutes with you? or should i aim higher for you, gorgeous?

she takes a while to type which leads giyu to believe maybe he aimed too low, he did hear that women made really good money on this app.

you: that sounds good !! could i make a request though if that’s okay with you of course baby :)

the nickname makes him feel warm but also noticeably sends blood from his brain to his cock that was starting to hurt from how hard it was.

it’s been so long since he’s been this aroused, come to think of it, he can’t even remember a time he’s been anywhere near this aroused. he almost feels as if he could cum just from seeing and talking to you from a screen.

kingofurwaters: spit it out pretty

you: can we make it 40 minutes instead? you offered a lot of money so if you can keep up with me then i would hope to give you the best expedience.

his face lightens.

kingofurwaters: of course, anything for you, is now okay?

and with that and talking him through how to do the call through zoom, he finally sees her.

shes wearing a soft pink lingerie set matched with pink and white panties with a bow in the front. he felt that as of now, it had to have been impossible to be harder than he already was.

throughout the whole session, he watched her, the way she moves, and all without her taking the set she had on, off. he didn’t show himself due to not wanting her to recognize his surroundings.

He palmed himself and came three times that night.

for the first time in giyu tomioka’s life…

he was grateful for tengen’s stupidity.

the next morning he rushed out the door trying to avoid any contact with you and heading straight out the door for work. He was never one to mind going to work but he was eager to go home. He was eager to text and look at you through his phone.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who comes home late once again expecting a quiet house although he’s surprised when he finds you cooking.

“oh your home, how was work tomioka?” you asked, giving him those sweet doll eyes that made his heart race.

“was fine, why are you up?” he asks

“couldn’t sleep and then i got hungry, would you like some?”

he looks down to see the fried rice that looked tempting but he pushes the yummy smell out of his thoughts.

“no thank you, enjoy though” he says before waving you off and brushing himself past you, giving you a small rub on your head in affection as he excuses himself to his room.

he looks on his phone to go straight to your page although he seems surprised as your title of your latest video uploaded an hour ago.

finding your cute roommate touching herself on your bed

his heart stopped noticing his bedroom in the thumbnail. she couldn’t possibly know, right?

fuck.

has she done this before?

he scrolls down on her videos and finding that some of her past videos were also in his room at some point. he also started to realize many videos were captioned with “roommate”. perhaps she had a little kink?

not that he minded. his hard dick straining against his sweatpants sure as hell didn’t mind one bit.

he clicked the video listening to your sweet pants and moans were blasted through his earphones.

he palmed his dick through his sweatpants trying his best not to mutter your name like he did when you were asleep.

he keeps at this motion, teasing his dick through his pants feeling overwhelmed with the image of you fucking yourself on his bed.

he is so close when he hears it.

he hears it, slightly audible.

“g-giyu…”

he almost felt as if he was hearing things, rewinding it over and over again to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things.

but no, he heard right.

precum began leaking through his swollen tip as he pulls his hard cock out of his pants desperately stroking down his long shaft. that was all he needed to hear.

“f-fuck” he groans out hoping you didn’t hear him as cum seeps through his fingers.

kingofurwaters: need you now. is it okay if we meet up? i’ll pay however much money, just need you now baby

he sends her 3k up front, how could she deny?

she agreed and sent him her address, or perhaps their address.

you: my roommate works hard though so we need to be quiet, don’t want to wake him up :(

always so considerate for him.

he couldn’t take it anymore, with shirt off and now only in his sweatpants he made his way to your bedroom before stopping at the door.

what was he thinking? he couldn’t just go in there and fuck the life out of her. he also couldn’t admit that he was watching her but at the same time, it wasn’t as if she was anymore innocent.

giyu takes too long thinking before he finds you opening the door startled and cheeks flushed as your eyes roamed his toned body.

you knew giyu was in shape but lord was he fine.

“oh uh giyu what are you doing here..?” she said nervously, trying her best not to make eye contact with the noticeable bulge poking through his sweatpants.

“i uh uh” shit.

he tries to think of a good explanation, what the hell could save him from this right now.

“oh hold on just one moment giyu, i just need to text someone real quick!” you say almost worried which sent him clueless, who the hell-

ding.

fuck.

that was his phone. you send him a look and look over at his phone to see your message notification.

your eyes go wide.

but not as wide as his.

notification: you: is it okay if we reschedule baby?

he looks up at you and your looking down and you look ashamed before tears roll down your face.

“i’m so sorry, i knew i shouldn’t have posted those videos or even have been doing those things in your room, i’m so sorry giyu, i understand if you want to kick me out or confront me…” you say in sobs.

he laughs.

why was he laughing? did he find this amusing? or maybe he was happy that he caught you.

“i’m sorry-“ you were cut off by him leaving a kiss on your lips. a kiss? did he just give you a peck?

“that isn’t why i’m here, sweetheart.” he says as he watches your expressions change in a confused manner, he leans in to kiss your forehead and comforting you, whiping away the tears.

you realize and you look up at him as if he was an angel sent down to earth.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who made love to you until morning, no longer feeling shy around his sweet neighbor.

. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

A/N. i have no knowledge on OF or how much they make so excuse me if this isn’t very accurate but most people i see online who have an OF are always balling so i assume they are making bank LMAO, i was originally planning on writing smut at the end but if i’m being honest…i’m not very good at writing actual smut but i enjoy writing the build ups because TENSION >>> anyways i hope you guys enjoyed

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[writeyouin]

Lost light megatron trying to have fun with his s/o, but kinda failing cuz he thinks of all the ways it could go wrong? (Maybe they’re on a planet in a theme park?) and reader has to convince him to let loose?

Megatron X Reader – Let Loose

A/N – Slowly, whittling my list of requests down.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Megatron snatched the cotton candy from you, earning a startled look from the vendor and the surrounding people alike. You, on the other hand, merely smiled, knowing what he was like.

“Babe, it’s not poisonous,” You told him patiently, waiting for him to agree.

Megatron tore off a piece of the fluffy treat, scanning it with a device he had procured from Red Alert; that bot was equally paranoid about all the things that could poison you, or that could contaminate the ship’s supply of energon, or that could… Actually, the list of things that Red Alert was paranoid about was endless.

He hummed and passed it back to you begrudgingly. While it was true that the food wouldn’t kill you, it wasn’t very good for you either, which is exactly what he told you after you tore a piece off, popping it in your mouth gleefully.

“Would you lighten up?” You laughed, elbowing him playfully. “Today is supposed to be fun.”

Megatron followed you through the Carnival that Rodimus had insisted on making the Lost Light stop at. Frankly, he thought that he had been doing well by not complaining that it was a waste of time and energy to visit such a trashy attraction, especially when the crew had to make use of their holo-forms which increased their energon consumption by 3.7%. That might not have been a lot for one bot, but when used by the full crew, it would ensure they practically ate through their energy reserves.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), but how exactly would you have me ‘lighten up’?” Megatron used air quotes upon repeating you.

“Just cut loose. Have fun for the day, okay?”

Megatron scowled. His idea of fun was composing poetry to sum up his deepest thoughts and clear his processor, or to spend an evening with you, consuming some of the universe’s best literature, while you spent time on one of your hobbies.

Frankly, this was when another bot might comment on how odd your relationship was. You and Megatron were not alike. You were loud, carefree, and energetic. He was sombre and contemplative, and he preferred not to waste energy on frivolous activities.

Yet, Megatron found himself wanting to please you. Part of this stemmed from the idea that he didn’t believe that he deserved you, and partially because you asked very little of him, taking the relationship one day at a time while he learned how to navigate it with you.

“Very well,” Megatron sighed. “I shall…” He tripped over the words cut loose, finding the slang un-endearing, opting to finish by saying, “Try to relax somewhat.”

“That’s all I ask,” You chuckled, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the first game of the day.

It was a simple ring toss over some bottles, with various prizes hanging overhead. You spotted a plushie armadillo which was arguably the most hideous of the prizes, yet it held your attention, your pupils dilating at the sight of it.

“Oh yeah, that’s coming home with me.”

And so the game began. You tried again and again to win the creature, putting more and more credits on it, much to the vendor's satisfaction.

Megatron watched, bemused, until finally, he grabbed your shoulder, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“What’s wrong, babe? You want a go?”

You held out a ring to him. Megatron glowered first at the bottles, then at the vendor. “You should leave this game.” He told you matter-of-factly. Then in a whisper, he added, “My sensors show that it has been rigged. Winning is a statistical impossibility.”

“Oh,” You deflated. You had already guessed that the game was rigged, but it had been fun to try all the same. Half-heartedly, you threw the last ring before walking away. “Okay… something else then.”

Megatron silently cursed himself for upsetting you, but it was better you knew now rather than trying to win the impossible.

Your eyes lit up again when you saw what had to be the world’s most unstable rollercoaster.

“How about that?!” You pointed to it excitedly.

Megatron scanned the structure, messaging Ultra Magnus to see how many laws it broke. According to him, the ride had 36 structural weaknesses, broke 17 laws, and would only be legal on 3 planets.

You shook your head as Megatron’s face set into its default scowl.

“Oh, come on, please,” You begged, clasping your hands together.

“I won’t stop you, but I shan’t join you,” Megatron said drily, thinking about how he would be prepared to shed his holo-form and rescue you when the ride inevitably flew off the tracks or something equally terrible.

“Really? I can’t convince you?” You pouted.

“I should think not.”

You opened your mouth to argue until Rodimus ran into you, “Hey (Y/N). You here for the coaster?”

“Yeah, I was about to get in line. I’m just asking Meg-”

Rodimus rolled his eyes, “Megatron isn’t going to join you. It would mean having fun, something he’s completely allergic to, you know, alongside joy, laughter, puppies, flowers-”

“Shut up,” You punched Rodimus playfully in the arm.

Megatron watched as you and Rodimus played, eventually getting his approval to go on the ride together. It sometimes amazed him that you hadn’t chosen to enter a relationship with someone like Rodimus. The two of you were quite similar and had a good rapport.

Megatron sighed as he watched the two of you on the ride. He was somewhat you were relieved that you were with his co-captain. At least that way you would be safe with him should something happen. One person with you, and another on the ground in case something went wrong.

Yet, remarkably, nothing bad happened, except for Megatron putting yet another damper on the day, making him practically miserable.

Once you had come off the ride, Megatron made his excuses to go back to the ship, leaving you alone with Rodimus. He had much to think about when it came to the two of you, and frankly, he felt like he needed to find some reasons that the two of you were together, especially after such a disastrous excuse of a date, wherein he had only helped to sour your vibrant mood.

Megatron startled at the sound of the doorbell ringing.

He answered the door to find you, holding tightly onto the plushie armadillo that he had claimed was impossible to win.

“So, you somehow won the ring toss,” He stated, gesturing to the toy.

“Nah. Rodimus distracted the guy there and I took this,” You held out your prize, grinning victoriously.

“Stealing?” Megatron said doubtfully, thinking about what a terrible influence Rodimus could be.

“I’d like to think of it as liberating a plushie who needs a lot of love. Besides, you said it yourself. That guy was cheating, so it’s only fair he loses a prize or two every now and then.”

Megatron nodded stiffly, his optics following you as you entered the hab-suite.

“I’m sorry-” He started, surprised when you said “Thank you,” at the same time.

“What’re you-” “Why are you-”

You laughed as you both spoke simultaneously again, gesturing for him to start first.

“I- I’m sorry for leaving you at the fair,” Megatron sighed in his usual melancholy tone. “And you don’t have anything to thank me for. Believe me, I should know.”

You grinned, holding back a bout of laughter since you didn’t want Megatron to be offended.

“I’ll admit, I was sad that you left early, but… I wanted to thank you, for a really good night.”

Megatron didn’t respond. Frankly, he couldn’t see how you had a good time with him at all.

“I know the carnival isn’t your scene, but you went with me anyway, and… I love having someone who looks out for me all the time. I think it’s really sweet that you don’t want me to get conned out of my credits, or get hurt on the big rides, or, y’know, die from poison. I love you, Megatron.”

That wasn’t the first time that you had told Megatron you loved him, nor would it be the last, and yet, you always said it at the most unexpected times.

“I… Love you too,” Megatron said haltingly, scared as usual that his vulnerability would lead to a terrible end for the two of you. “Would you like to spend the night here?” He offered.

“Sounds good to me,” You beamed.

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - The Epilogue

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: This chapter is set about a month before "Love Actually." So...are you ready?

Song Inspo: For this last chapter, it’s “The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel. (It’s just lovely. I listened to it while writing the second half of the epilogue!)

Word Count: 7,800

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Violence and peril, angst, familiar bickering, smutty smut, bit of breeding kink, tender fluff, hurt/comfort, and an ending…

Epilogue: All My Living Time

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

Six months later…

You were frustrated with your roommate.

And yes, you used the word roommate, because he hadn’t seen fit to give it any other label.

You stewed in your irritation as you also stirred the beginnings of chicken tortilla soup. It was early in the morning before work, and Yvette had been teaching you how to master the crockpot. Hopefully, by the time you and Ben got home tonight, it would be ready and waiting for dinner.

Six months. You had to nag him about cabinets left open, dirty boots left right in front of the door to your shared apartment, and hell, actually going to his therapy sessions.

While that last one had taken months of convincing and cajoling, he’d caved when you suggested that acknowledging and dealing with what happened to him in Russia might help him control the nuclear power inside him. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t have to patch another hole in the ceiling.

Mind you, he wouldn’t actually talk to said therapist about anything related to his PTSD. But at least he was going. And the therapist was apparently getting an earful of Ben’s celebrity encounters, with all the explicit, gushy details.

However, even with all of this, it also sometimes felt like you were an in-house maid rather than a partner.

The latest reason for your frustration returned to you when Ben strolled into the kitchen in search of coffee. He wasn’t yet dressed for work in his supe suit; instead, still in the plain shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

He glanced at you, and seeming to sense your mood, he kept to himself as he found his usual mug and poured a cup of steaming French press in silence.

You took in a breath, trying to calm yourself. Maybe he’d had time to sleep on it. You closed the crockpot and went over to him. Your hand on his arm made him pause.

“Hey,” you said, “have you thought about what I asked you last night?”

Ben’s expression remained flat. “I think I already said my piece on that.”

You sighed.

“Why is dinner with my family such a hard thing for you?” you asked. Your brows furrowed. “My sister’s starting to warm up to you! And Mom just wants to get to know you. What’s the problem?”

Ben scoffed. “Your sister fucking hates me.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t totally wrong, but in fairness, Louisa wasn’t happy to learn about why you’d nearly died in the hospital, when Vought Tower collapsed.

She thought you needed therapy for an egregious case of Stockholm Syndrome. But the more Ben worked with Supe Affairs, helping to clear the streets of out-of-control supes and cleaning up the remains of Vought, you were slowly getting Louisa to come around.

“She just needs time to get to know you too,” you said.

Ben wasn’t having it though. He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from you with his coffee and a newspaper—aiming to get to his favorite lounge chair in the living room. It was the way he always started his morning, like the old man he was.

You followed him.

“Come on, one dinner won’t kill you,” you said. “And by the way, neither would moving your dirty-ass boots out of the doorway.”

You went over to grab said boots, and in your annoyance, you all but tossed them into the hall. Ben frowned at you, throwing down the newspaper onto the coffee table.

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months. Almost seven, if you counted the safe house.

When you found this nice, but cozy apartment in Scarsdale, you’d sat him down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, like the two of you used to in that house in Medellin.

And you established the ground rules before you two officially moved in together: 

First, an exclusive relationship meant exclusive. Meaning no fucking around. (He’d raised a brow at you.)

Second, you were his partner, not his slave. You expected him to carry his hefty weight, not only in the relationship, but around the house. (He’d most definitely rolled his eyes at that.)

And finally, don’t be an asshole, you’d decreed. “Be honest when you’re not feeling right about something. But don’t be a dick about it.” 

That cut both ways, of course, just like the other two rules. He’d agreed to all of these, albeit begrudgingly. You hadn’t really known then if he meant it.

And now, looking at him, you still had no idea if he was trying, or if he was just tired of being alone…and if you were just a convenient bedwarmer. You bit your lip once again, this time with a growing fear blooming anxiety in your chest.

“Do you even love me?” you asked.

Ben blinked down at you, and his lips pulled into a deep frown.

“Stop fucking around,” he said.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. Your crossed arms tightened, as if to protect yourself from what he might say. “You’ve never said it once.”

“And the fact that I agreed to live in this mediocre fucking apartment doesn’t mean anything?” he said, gesturing around him with a hand. “I take you out, I buy you shit. Matter of fact, I fucking spoil you.”

“And you take off whenever you feel like it, especially after missions,” you shot back. “Sometimes I don’t know where the hell you’ve gone for hours. For all I know, you’re out there doing blow with a caravan of strippers!”

While that did sound like a damn good time, that hadn’t been Ben’s M.O. in recent months. And in his mind, you should’ve known better.

“I haven’t fucked anyone but you since we moved in here,” he snapped.

Even longer than that, if he was honest. 

Meanwhile, you wanted to trust his words, desperately, but you just didn’t know if you could. 

“Even if I believe you, what’s the problem here?” you asked. Your gaze fell from his as you worried your bottom lip. “Am I doing something wrong?”

You didn’t see the way Ben’s brows knitted together, his eyes softening a bit.

“Other than annoying the hell out of me right now, no,” he replied. 

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. You looked up at him again. “Then just tell me the truth. What are we doing here?” 

“What the fuck do you mean?” Ben’s hands went to his waist, and once again, he frowned in irritation. “I’m here. What more do you want from me?” 

“Do you love me?” you asked. “And don’t lie to me.” 

He knew very well that you would be able to detect if he was lying. Which was why, you suspected, he hadn’t tried to. 

He couldn’t seem to answer you though…and that broke your heart.

Shaking your head, you walked away from him to get ready for work.

Your attitude at work was snappish at best. Annie had pulled you from the Surveillance department on your lunch break to join her and your friends in the breakroom, but you couldn’t enjoy yourself like you usually would.

“Smooth and creamy, all the motherfuckin’ way,” M.M. said. Sitting across from him in the breakroom was Frenchie, pelting him with a roasted peanut.

“This is why you are an unsophisticated, bourgeois, fucking fuddy-duddy,” Frenchie remarked. He was also vaping, as Annie was trying to get him to stop smoking indoors. “Extra crunchy peanut butter is the only way to do business.”

“What’s the point? Just eat peanuts if you want it that crunchy,” M.M. countered. He blocked each roasted nut thrown at him and organized them in a perfect pile on the table.

“You know what? You’re right. Smooth and creamy is how I’ll eat out your mother’s sweet and savory vajine,” Frenchie teased.

M.M.’s deadpan face was priceless. But when a peanut projectile strayed and hit you in the cheek, you leveled Frenchie with a glare.

“Can you guys not act like children for five goddamn minutes?” you snapped.

His brows raised, along with his hands in surrender. M.M. and Annie looked at you in mild surprise, and the latter with concern after the guys eventually left.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve looked tense as hell all day,” she asked. You sighed, holding a hand to your brow.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied. She gave you a knowing look.

“Is…something going on?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”

Most of the S.A. was still wary of Ben, while M.M. tolerated him at best. (You understood how hard he was trying.)

You appreciated Annie though. She was a good friend, and along with Hughie, she’d been another who started to come around to the idea of Ben. Not only as he occasionally worked with the S.A., but to the man himself, after she’d seen the way he did his best to save you, Yvette, and her son Devon.

You nodded at her question. You couldn’t help the tears burgeoning in your eyes. Annie scooched her chair over so she could rub your back in comfort. You sniffed and tried not to break down here in the middle of the breakroom, over your sad ham sandwich.

“We had a fight,” you admitted. Annie’s gaze was tight with concern.

“Did he…hurt you?” she asked. Her brown eyes were as direct as her words, promising her protection as well as retribution, depending on how you answered.

Your glassy eyes widened. “No. He’s not like that, he…believe it or not, but he’s never hurt me, Annie. Not once.”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, good. Well, tell me what happened.”

You wanted to. But before you could, both of you got an incoming text in the team group chat. It was from Grace Mallory.

She had a new mission.

Grace asked you to join the team on your first field mission since you’d returned to work three months ago. She also called in Ben, as in her words, it was another “all hands on fucking deck” situation.

Ben and Butcher eyed one another with similar stoic frowns, before they proceeded to ignore each other. Despite how you felt about Ben right now, the brief exchange almost made you smirk.

Apparently the whole I saved you with my super blood thing was awkward for both of them. You knew Ben had seen it as a means to an end. You still didn’t know how Butcher felt about it, but it seemed as if a begrudging respect had formed between the two men.

Or at least, they were civil, anyway.

“All right,” Grace said, once she saw that everyone was in attendance. “Let’s begin.”

A supe named Sapphire had been giving the CIA trouble for years now. She was moving drugs from South America to the States, to the Middle East, whoever would deal with her. And she was smart. She had a network of spies that transcended continents, and so she had evaded every attempt at arrest.

She was also a powerful supe, with the ability to channel vaporizing energy not unlike Crimson Countess had. However, this supe could spear blue shards of light through her enemies as well.  With her damn eyes.

Grace turned to you after she finished explaining the details of the mission.

“Sapphire’s internal security is advanced. Our system can’t penetrate her firewalls. You’ll need to get a hand on the mainframe from there, shut down her system. Then our Surveillance team can back you up here.”

You nodded, but in the corner of your eye, you noticed Ben frowning as he crossed his arms.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re out of practice,” he told you. “You really think you’re ready for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I train every day,” you snapped back.

Ben’s expression fell into irritation. “Not the same, and you fucking know it.”

Butcher, Annie, and the others watched the exchange with mixed wariness and discomfort. Grace looked between you and Ben with curious, narrowed eyes.

“Is this going to be a problem, you two working together on this?” she asked.

You turned from Ben’s annoyed face and met Grace’s gaze directly.

“Not at all,” you said.

Sapphire had been spotted doing business in the Meat Packing District. By day, the building was a beef butchering factory. By night, it was apparently one of the most massive drug running operations in the city.

As such, her security team was extensive—at the front, the back, and the roof. So while Butcher, Kimiko, and Ben broke through the front, making a lot of noise and distraction, the rest of you went under.

Unfortunately, that meant the sewer. Annie lit the way through, while M.M. followed a set of schematics to find the right spot.

“It’s not my first time in the bowels of New York City, but please God, let it be the last,” Hughie quipped. You tried not to breathe the foul smell through your nose.

“Watch the fucking rat,” M.M. said with a grimace, before he set up the double-sided ladder he brought. He and Frenchie climbed either side of it up to the metal ceiling which, according to the building’s schematics, led directly beneath the factory basement.

They took up welding guns and masks to carve a large hole into the metal and cement above. And soon enough, they pushed up and slid over a large portion, creating a gap you could all crawl through. 

M.M. helped Annie up first, and she shot a few star bolts at the three men inside, who had been smoking and eating deli sandwiches. Each of them went down, alive, but groaning in pain. That allowed the rest of you to climb up and into the basement.

“We’re in,” M.M. said into the Bluetooth communicator in his ear.

“We’re cutting through her goon squad,” Butcher said. “Sapphire’s here somewhere. I can smell a massive cunt already.”

“Gross. Thanks for that visual,” Annie remarked.

From there, you all took off toward the stairwell. It was your task to find the operation’s security control room. So Hughie and Frenchie went with you as backup, while M.M. and Annie went to join the fight and find Sapphire.

It took you a few tries to find the right room. Most of them were offices. One contained wagons of discarded meat parts (disgusting). But eventually, you found a large room filled with computer equipment and a huge wall monitor with several panels of camera feeds. You and Frenchie raised your guns and took out the team inside.

Then you and Hughie went to the controls. Frenchie watched the door while you worked to disable the firewall first. You instructed Hughie on how to knock out their communications as well. And within a few minutes, your work was done. You were able to make a call to the S.A. Surveillance team.

“Hey, friend!” a cheerful voice greeted you. You smiled; it was your coworker Jess, who you’d worked with for the past two years. 

“Jess?”

“Yep! I’m helping out on this one. What do you need?”

“I shut down the firewall. I’m giving you the I.P. address now so you can connect.”

“…Okay, got it. I’m in. I can see all twenty cameras, and you! Hey, there.”

“All right, where’s Sapphire?” you asked.

“Looks like they haven’t found her yet,” Hughie said, pointing at the camera feed in the main room, filled with rows of conveyor belts, and a massive fight as Ben, Butcher, and the others made their way through the building.

“We’ll just have to help them clear each room,” you said. “Let’s go. Jess, keep an eye on us, but look out for Sapphire.”

“Will do. I’m patched into your comm now too,” she said. So you hung up your cell, and you left with Hughie and Frenchie.

You ran into more security when you left the room, more than the three of you could realistically handle as a fire fight began. You guys ran in the opposite direction, but while you veered right around the corner, Frenchie and Hughie ran left. Bullets tore in between, making sure that none of you could cross the hall to join back up.

“You guys keep going. I’ll find my own way out,” you called out to them. Neither of them liked that idea, but Frenchie nodded and pulled Hughie away when Sapphire’s security team closed in.

You kept running down the hall. You knew you were being chased. Several heavy footsteps thundered behind you. 

“Jess, I need a way out of here,” you commed in.

“You’re on the second floor,” she said. “The closest stairwell is the one you’re running away from.”

“What’s the second closest?” You panted as you ran.

“Hmm, you can cut through room 234. The exit stairwell is right on the other side.”

 “Is the room clear?” you asked.

After a moment, Jess answered. “Yep, it should be.”

"Should be?”you said dubiously.

“What the hell’s going on?” you heard Ben’s voice on the line. You heard the edge of his annoyance (and underlying worry), but you didn’t have time to talk to him right now.

“Looks clear on my end,” said Jess,“but this connection is a bit wonky.”

Damn it, Jess, you thought. When you reached room 234, the door was solid gray. There was no window to peek into, and you didn’t have time for caution, as a stray bullet nearly caught you in the head.

You ripped the door open and ran in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it for good measure.

You turned around and stopped short. A gasp caught in your throat.

The room was huge, and it was filled wall-to-wall with white packages, of what you could only assume was cocaine. A few men were continuing to stack them. At the center of it all was a tall woman, rich tan skin, long black hair, wearing a deep blue pantsuit and killer heels. She looked like a boss ass bitch.

But unfortunately, she was also looking straight at you, raising a brow.

“Ah,” she said. A smile curved her lips, painted with a dark plum lipstick. “You’re one of the little bitches making a mess in my office.” 

Her eyes glowed blue, and yours widened. You dove for the nearest shelter—a wall of cocaine parcels. White powder exploded and wafted in the air as you ducked and ran across the room (and tried not to inhale). You drew your gun and shot out the legs of her men underneath the long stretch of table, but you yelped as bullets continued to follow you.

“I found Sapphire! Need backup in 234!” you shouted into the comm.

But when a blast of blue energy rocked into the wall directly behind you, you screamed as you were thrown forward. You landed painfully on your side, with the wind knocked out of you.

After a moment, you drew breath into your lungs and were able to pick yourself up. The exit door was close, a mere few feet away, but the second you reached for it, you had to pull back as narrow blue shards of light pierced the door. 

Sapphire was quickly approaching, just a yard or so away from grabbing you.

Instead of shooting your gun, you went for the taser at your belt and shot fast. Sapphire grabbed the end of the line like a fucking moron. Her blue eyes widened in outrage and pain when it shocked 50,000 volts of electricity through her body.

You took your chance, and you ripped the door open and fled. You just didn’t expect the bolt of energy that shot after you when you reached the stairs.

It didn’t hit you, but trying to dodge it made you lose your balance. You uttered a short scream as you were forced to jump the first flight of stairs.

You landed on the middle platform between the first and second floor. This time, you knew you twisted your ankle badly on the way down. You whimpered, holding your ankle and shin, but you knew you didn’t have time to waste.

It was a struggle to claw your way up to the guard rail. You could barely put pressure on your right foot, but you had no choice as you scrambled down the rest of the stairs. Already the door to the stairwell was blown open, and a pissed supe was on her way down behind you.

After shoving the door open on the first floor, you stumbled out and took another painful spill across the concrete floor. To your relief, M.M. picked you up by your arms.

The door behind you swung open, and before Sapphire could fire off a vaporizing blow, Ben raised his new titanium shield in front of you and M.M.

The blue energy bounced right off, and Ben used his shield to bat the supe right in the face—like swatting a fly. With a shriek, she was thrown hard against the wall.

Sapphire sunk to her knees, then the electric blue flickered out of her eyes as she fell unconscious to the floor.

When you all returned to Supe Affairs, Ben thundered down the hall towards the Surveillance department.

“Ben!” You hurried after him the best you could with a sprained ankle, bare-footed and wrapped, while M.M. and Hughie trailed behind. The others were busy getting Sapphire into custody.

Hughie was concerned for you though, while M.M. also wanted to know how you were going to try and reign in Soldier Boy.

“What the hell are you doing?” you called after Ben.

“I wanna know what goddamn moron cleared that fucking room,” he barked, but he didn’t slow down.

M.M. called your name from behind.

“Get your boyfriend in check,” he warned.

You sighed in irritation. At this point, you didn’t even know if he was your boyfriend.

But you struggled to reach him. You were practically hopping on one foot. The moment you tried to put any pressure on your right one, you faltered with a cry as you all but crashed against the wall to catch yourself. Hughie went to help you, grabbing your arm gently with a supportive hand on your back.

You didn’t see it, but that was when Ben stopped short. His jaw ticked. And he turned on his booted heel. When he saw you struggling to support yourself against the wall, he reluctantly went back. He knocked Hughie’s scrawny hands off you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

When he tried to just gather you into his arms to get the weight off your injured foot, you snapped at him.

“I can walk!” you said. “Let’s just go home please.”

His nostrils flared in irritation, but he helped you try to walk back toward the exit instead. You winced in pain with every small step.

Ben growled in annoyance. Fuck this. 

He hefted you effortlessly into his arms. You gasped and clung to his shoulders, and afterwards, you glared at him.

“I said I can walk!” you insisted.

“Shut up,” he grated out, swiftly heading for the exit doors down the hall. M.M. and Hughie watched with wide eyes while you and Ben devolved into what you did best.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” you raised your voice.

He glared at you. “You’re in rare fucking form right now.”

“You’re the one being an asshole!”

“And you’re being a disrespectful brat!”

You rolled your eyes as anger burned hot in your veins. “What-fucking-ever, grandpa.”

Ben’s teeth clicked and grinded together. It took everything he had within him not to toss you. 

“You really wanna fucking get it, don’t you?”

“Suck my dick. How about that?” you sassed back, unfazed by his warning. 

Ben bulldozed through the double doors with a swift kick that shook them on their hinges. The bickering continued long after you two exited the building. 

Hughie just stared, mouth gaping, while M.M. crossed his arms. 

“That is some volatile shit,” Hughie remarked. 

M.M. scoffed, with a subtle shake of his head. 

“Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.”

Meanwhile, in the car, Ben drove home to Scarsdale. You simmered in the passenger seat. He glanced at you.

“Are you gonna be a hissy bitch all night?” he asked. You glowered at him.

“You’re the fucking grouch,” you shot back. In times like these, you liked to fantasize. Sometimes you wished you could rip out his spine and play Jenga with the vertebrae.  

“And you’re the one who nearly got yourself killed,” he retorted.

You took issue with this, your brows raising high.

“Excuse me? You’re really blaming me for what happened with Sapphire? You were ready to take out my friend for making an honest mistake.”

His gaze briefly left the road, turning to you in frustration. He didn't understand how you couldn't get it through your thick skull. You had been one shaky step shy of being fucking vaporized today.

No blood. No body. Just...nothing.

“Case in point, you’re the best in Surveillance," he said gruffly. "You don’t need to be in the field."

His compliment stopped you, warming you a little, but he was missing the point.

“I go where I’m needed, just like you,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me how, when, or where to do my job.”

Needless to say, it was tense for the rest of the way home.

Ben helped you inside, after which, you were determined to get to the bedroom by yourself. He watched you hop away from him with a frustrated shake of his head.

He sighed and started to peel off his gloves and untie his boots…but instead of leaving them by the door, like he usually would, he kept walking until he made it to the bedroom he shared with you. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off there.

He watched you ignore him as you closed yourself into the bathroom.

You came out of the shower a little while later. Your hair was damp, but unwashed as you hadn’t been able to stand there for very long. The wrap on your ankle had gotten wet, so you grabbed the spare one that the paramedic had given you.

Ben didn’t look at you as he took his turn heading into the bathroom. After the door shut, your shoulders slumped with a sigh.

You tried to put on some shorts, but you quickly gave up and instead put on an overlarge shirt over your underwear. You remembered then that this shirt was an old one of Ben’s, and now a favorite of yours, because it still smelled like that earthy mix of his cologne and aftershave.

Frowning, you sucked in a deep breath. And you made a decision.

By the time Ben came back out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he found you still in the bedroom. Except you were packing a suitcase—the same one he’d brought to the safe house he’d shared with you for a month.

You were stuffing clothes into it from your side of the dresser. Something churned uncomfortably in his stomach, and he approached you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded to know.

You glanced up at him, but continued packing.

“Well, you made yourself very clear this morning that we’re just roommates. So I’m going to the guest room.”

“All right, don’t get all fucking hormonal,” he said, reaching out with a hand to stop you. You snatched your hand away from him. His brows raised in disbelief.

When you tried to get past him on the way to your closet, he held fast to your arm. With an angry frown, he then grabbed your suitcase and spilled it over onto the bed. You didn’t need a fucking suitcase to move one room over. Not that he planned to let you go any-damn-where.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

You met his intense stare with your own, but your eyes were shining and red. In that moment, you both stilled. The silence was palpable. For you, it was heartbreaking.

“I can’t do this anymore, Ben,” you confessed. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall just yet. “I put my all into this, and I just…I can’t be with someone who won’t be honest with me.”

You started to grab your suitcase again, along with your discarded clothes. Ben stopped you. 

“I said enough,” he snapped. 

You then threw the heap of clothes to the floor, suitcase and all.

“Why?” you tearfully retorted. “Why should I listen to you?” 

His deep green eyes searched yours. For what, you didn’t know.

Eventually, you started to see through the cracks of his anger.

“Because I fucking love you,” he said. 

You blinked up at him, with hope stuck in your throat. But you were stubborn in your denial.

“You’re just saying that to get me off your back,” you argued. “Either you’ve just gotten used to having me around, or you just don’t feel like being alone. But you don’t really care about me.”

You knew you were saying words you didn’t mean.

You knew that wasn’t true…but you couldn’t help it.

You were more upset than angry now, seconds away from dissolving into pitiful tears. You were just stubborn enough to hold them at bay.

“Just shut up for one goddamn second,” Ben said. He held you by your shoulders, though his hands soon moved down to grip your arms. It wasn’t a painful hold, but it was firm, and quite possibly pleading.

Despite your better judgment, you gave him time to speak.

“You really think I’d stay here in this shithole if I didn’t want you?” he asked. “If I didn’t care about you?”

You unconsciously held your breath. For a long moment, he hesitated to continue.

Again, you waited for him.

Meanwhile, Ben knew he was being a coward. He’d been holding back. Not because he wasn’t serious about you, but because he’d been burned before. 

He knew he’d spent his life being a fucking bastard, in most ways. He knew he’d been wrong, and hadn’t given two shits about it. But Crimson Countess…Tess…he’d been willing to settle down with her. He’d actually told her he loved her and hadn’t been totally lying through his teeth. 

Yeah, he’d fucked around. Flirted with other women in front of her. He knew he was a hypocrite. Still, in whatever way he could at the time, he thought he’d loved her. 

And she’d lied to him. She’d gone through the motions of being with him. For fame or fear or whatever her reasons had been, she went along with it. And then she’d sold him out, along with the rest of their team. 

For nothing. Just to get him the fuck out of her life—out of the world. 

So what was he supposed to do with you? Just let you walk the fuck in, give you the deepest parts of him? A dark fucking space that he’d never given to anyone.

Well, he knew now if he didn’t, you were going to leave. But he wasn’t willing to let go either.

So…he relented. For once in his life, he told the truth.

“I love you,” Ben admitted. “In my whole damn life…I think you’re the only one who’s made me feel it for real.” 

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks. You reached out and grasped his wrist, mostly for stability as you took in his words. He took that hand, held it to his warm chest. Always warm. 

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Alone. 

You looked up at him with a sad, rueful smile. 

“Not exactly where you started,” you replied. He wasn’t the same man you met last year. You pressed your free hand to his cheek.

“Taking Compound V doesn’t guarantee I’ll come out like you, with a longer lifespan.”

“It’s something the CIA can work on,” Ben said. 

“You want Dr. Baker to experiment on me?” you asked, quirking a brow. The CIA had recruited her, ironically enough.

Ben closed his eyes for a second, letting out a slight huff. “That’s not what I’m fucking saying.”

You nodded and soothed your fingers through his hair. 

“Okay, we’ll have that conversation. I promise.” Then you smiled. “But let me just have this moment…my boyfriend loves me.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he meant it. His hands moved to your waist, around to the small of your back. You clung to his shoulders and shifted off your aching ankle with a wince. Ben noticed, and he raised you up to him. It had the added benefit of letting you reach his face easier.

He guided you into a searing kiss. You responded in kind, delving into his hair again and opening your mouth to his demanding tongue. With the tips of your toes, you pushed up from the ground and he helped you wrap your legs around his waist.

The towel he wore was starting to slip, and you shoved it the rest of the way off with your foot, until he stood in the center of the bedroom in all his glory. 

He smirked into your lips and walked you to the bed. But before he could lay you down, you broke the kiss and held his face.

“You really love me?” you asked, just to make sure. It was the part of you, perhaps still scarred deep down, that had to ask.

Ben chuckled. He rested his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You grinned, and you kissed him this time, only breaking when he lowered down to the bed. Once your back met the plush mattress, all bets were off. He wrenched your shirt up over your head, and you reached for him again.

Your lips drew a hot, wet path from his jawline to his neck, biting and sucking all along the way to that sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder. His hand clenched in your hair, a deep sound caught in his throat when he felt the sharp sting of your teeth, playfully biting, then soothing with your tongue.

Your nails bit into his skin, but merely felt like teasing down his back, making a shiver trill along his spine. He all but pressed you into the mattress as he made his own descent.

Your fingers trailed up and into his hair while his mouth worked its way down between your breasts, stopping to lavish attention on each one. You made sounds of pleasure when he took a hardened nipple between his lips, between his teeth, dragging deliciously over your skin.

Your thighs wrapped around his hips again, He bucked teasingly into your clothed core, making you moan when you felt his wet tip dampening your panties.

“Ben…”

His lips curved, but he didn’t answer you. His fingers were pressing into the flesh of your thigh as he continued to tease your breasts. You’d felt how hard he was already and frankly, you were surprised he was taking his time.

“Listen,” you panted in his ear. “You’ve gotta wrap it up this time. Do we even have condoms?”

You knew for a fact that Ben didn’t buy them. 

But his brows furrowed. His mouth left your breast as he looked up at you.

“What?”

“I haven’t replaced my IUD yet,” you confessed. Its five-year lifespan had been up, and so you’d gotten the birth control device removed a few days ago.

Now, you watched in amusement at the way his lips curved into a pleased grin.

“No, don’t you even think about it,” you warned. Though you almost laughed at how excited he looked. “We’re not ready for that.”

“Why fucking not?” Ben asked. His pressed his length against your core more insistently. The idea of fucking you raw, spilling into you, putting his seed deep inside you without resistance, had his cock throbbing with anticipation.

“Ben!” You had to laugh. You two hadn’t even been living together that long, and you had just gotten on the same page after six months of trying to figure out what you were together.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want kids,” he said. And he began to ply you with tantalizing kisses along the column of your throat, down your neck, the scraping of teeth making you shudder in delight.

“I do,” you could admit. “But is right now really the best ti—”

He choked a moan out of you as his fingers pushed your underwear aside and spread your folds, then delved right in. Your core pulsed, hot and wet as his thick digits sunk deep inside you.

“God,” you uttered, gripping his hair tight. He stretched and explored your inner channel with two fingers, while his thumb found your clit with ease.

“When then?” he asked. But his hand was unrelenting, working you over until your toes curled and the coil in your lower belly began to tighten. You looked up at him helplessly.   

“Can we talk about this later?” you keened. Ben smirked and suddenly withdrew his fingers from your dripping pussy. He snatched your underwear, ripping them down the middle and making you gasp.

“No time like the fucking present,” he insisted. He lined himself up to your entrance, but you stopped him with a warning look. You knew if you let him inside you now, he was going to try and get his way.

“Ben,” you warned.

He sighed and let you stop him, but then his teasing edge faded.

Ben pressed a hand to your cheek. When he leaned down to kiss you, you felt the need and wanting behind it. 

He pulled away to meet your eyes. You softened looking up into his, because you understood what he wanted.

“We have time, baby,” you promised, stroking his chin. “We’ll have a family…just give us some time.”

He was disappointed…but he nodded. Sighing again through his nose, he clenched a hand into the now tangled mess of your hair.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re fucking mine.”

Your eyes widened. In all of this, you’d forgotten to be honest yourself. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you said. “I love you, Ben. So much, I can hardly take it.” 

He closed his eyes with furrowed brows. It had been a very long time since he’d heard those words. Maybe the first time someone had said them with any real sincerity, besides his mother. 

You encouraged him to look at you, both with your voice and your hand gently touching his face. And when he opened his eyes, you marveled at the depths there. 

Smiling, you guided him back to your lips. It was slow and sweet…until it wasn’t, deepening in passion and urgency again. Need burned inside you, so deep and strong that you couldn't take it anymore.

You slipped a hand between you to grasp his still hard cock. You caressed him a few times, letting your thumb circle around the sensitive head. Ben couldn’t help thrusting into your hand, releasing a grunt. His eyes briefly closed again as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck, down his chest.

“I need you,” you whispered against his skin. Ben nodded while you held his length poised at your entrance. He raised your hips, tucking your ankles over shoulders. For your injured one, he rubbed your calf.

“What a fuckin’ trooper,” he said with a smirk.

You smiled, but it soon fell into a moan as he began to push inside you. Every time, he stretched and filled you completely. Your inner walls wrapped around him and already fluttered with heat.

“Fuck, baby doll. Got me tight as a damn glove,” Ben remarked. You had to giggle, but that just squeezed him harder. When he began to move, it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders.

As basic as the position was, you liked being able to see his face. You knew when to spur him on, and when to just hold on for dear fucking life. But above all, he was a skilled man, and you enjoyed watching him work.

You were so consumed by it that when he came, it took both of you by surprise. He spilled into you hot and deep, but he still filled you with ragged thrusts, which hit that special place inside that made your entire body shudder with pleasure. You couldn’t help but come apart with him.

Your nails bit fruitlessly into his skin as your voice rose on a high moan. The two of you panted for breath, and he pulled out and let down your legs back to the bed. Once you felt the telltale dripping of his release slipping down from between your legs, your eyes widened. 

Oh shit, you thought. “We forgot the condom.”

Ben stared down at you, first in confusion, then in surprise. And finally, with a broad, Cheshire-like grin.

You laid a hand over your eyes as you relaxed into the pillow behind your head, trying not to laugh.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said.

“We? I was following your lead,” Ben said. He moved to lay beside you in full satisfaction, folding his hands over his chest. He looked like the cat that caught the horny-ass canary.

"Haven't you heard of, oh, I don't know, pulling out?" you quipped. Ben rose a brow at you, still with that smug look on his face.

"Not my philosophy, sweetheart," he said.

Your mouth dropped open incredulously. Your gaze narrowed, but looking into his gleaming eyes, you really just had to laugh. His smile grew.

Ugh. Whatever, you thought. For now, you closed your legs and moved over to rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

What’re the chances that I’m ovulating anyway? you thought.

After a beat, you huffed another laugh. With your luck, you’d definitely have to stop at a drugstore for a pregnancy test.

And yet, in times like these, you were happy that you caved when Ben insisted on installing a TV in the bedroom. After you both got cleaned up, it was nice to fall into bed like you used to and find something new to watch together.

There were so many things you wanted him to catch up on, and he was generally game for whatever you thought he might like.

Three episodes of The Office later though, you stopped laughing so much and fell into your thoughts. Ben noticed, tugging on a loose strand of your hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“You really think our apartment is a shithole?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I might’ve embellished.”

“Seriously. If you’re not comfortable here—”

“I’m comfortable,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “Why’re you asking me that now?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I just want you to be happy here. I want this to feel like home for both of us, but not like, boring either.” 

He smirked. “Hence the caravan of whores and blow.” 

You shook your head with a laugh. But he still saw you trying to stem off that worry. That all this wasn’t enough for him. 

Well, Ben could complain about being cramped in this three-bedroom apartment…but he knew that when he came home, he wouldn’t be alone. 

He’d be able to see your stuff on the nightstand, by your side of the bed, your half of the closet, your sweet-smelling soaps and lotions in the bathroom. All of that was familiar to him now. 

It was home, he supposed. And so were you.

The beginnings of a softer smile curved his lips, but he edged it into a smirk.  

“You’ve got something they don’t,” he said. 

“What’s that?” you asked, raising a brow. 

“You try the ever-living fuck out of my patience,” he said, “unlike anyone on the planet.” 

With a giggle, you rolled over onto his arm and chest, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Buuut…?” 

He conceded with a nod, if also a roll of his eyes. His arm lifted to once again slip around your waist.

“But no matter how fucked up it got, you stayed.”

With me, his tone implied.

“That’s more than anyone else in my goddamn life,” he said.

And that made you tear up all over again.

“So you’re staying,” you clarified, only half-teasing.

It reminded you of when you’d sat tied to a chair, wondering why the hell Soldier Boy would want to let you live. You could’ve never known it then, but you’d stared straight into the face of your future.

You didn’t know if Ben was remembering the same thing, but he smiled a little, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

“I’m staying,” he replied. Your smile brightened, and you leaned up for a kiss.

“Then we’re square,” you whispered against his lips. 

He chuckled and deepened the kiss. He turned off the TV, chucking the remote further down the bed and turned to trap you beneath him again.

“Nope.” You finished wiping your eyes and pushed against his chest. “You’re not finessing me twice. Go find a damn condom.”

He gave you a grumpy look. “Fucking killjoy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed. You reached up and took his face in your hands.

“I promised, didn’t I?” you reminded. “We’ll get there.”

His gaze searched yours.

“Soon, not someday,” he said. You nodded, soothing your thumb across his cheek.

“Soon,” you agreed. And you reminded him, even as your throat constricted once more with emotion. “Ben, I love you…God, I love you. And I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Ben paused, but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance. You were grateful for it. Even though you weren’t quite ready yet, he wasn’t the only one who wanted a family.

While your fractured past and upbringing made it hard for you to move past your fears, your insecurities, you knew that this man made you feel safe.

For the first time in your life, you also felt whole.

Soon enough, you’d be brave too.

AN: That's all, folks. Been a great ride...

Ha! Just kidding. I'm nowhere near done with these two, even with this long-ass epilogue lol.

But honestly, no matter what part of the journey you jumped into with this story, thank you so much for sticking with me until the end. It's truly been one of my favorite stories ever to write. And I'm so glad I got the chance to share it with you. 🥹💚🥹

Read More in the BMD-verse:

There are several more sequel stories listed under the Break Me Down Series Masterlist. Next up is a one-shot taking place a shortly after Part 17, and before this Epilogue:

Summary: You and Ben have tackled the insurmountable together, but no one said the recovery would be easy.

▶️ Next Story: In the Dark

Before you keep reading, please let me know what you thought of the BMD finale! 💚💚

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[thevoidstaredback]

Dick: Remember everyone, violence is never the answer.

Danny: You're right, Dick.. Violence can't be the answer.

Dick: Correct, Danny. Now, on to the next lesso-

Danny: Violence is the question.

Danny: And the answer is yes!

Dick: Danny, no!!

Dick: All right, Danny, that’s it, you’re grounded! I found a rap album hiding under your bed and it was the clean version. I didn’t raise you to be such a nerd!

Danny: I’m not even your kid-

Dick: I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.

Danny: Ok.

Dick: Wait, why such a muted reaction? Did that not sound cool?

Danny: Last night I found out Dick is a sleep talker.

Tim: Oh, really?

Danny: "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell." Right. In. My. Ear. At 3am.

*Dick rushes by with an armful of water bottles*

Tim: What's going on?

Danny: Dick wouldn't drink water.

Tim: ...And?

Danny: And I asked him how fast he could chug an entire bottle.

Dick, loudly: 16 OUNCES IN TEN SECONDS, BITCHES!

Dick: Do you ever feel bugs on you when really there’s nothing there?

Danny: Those are the ghosts of the bugs you killed before.

Dick:

Dick: *sobs*

Tim: You fucking scared him, you idiot.

Dick: I hate to tell you this, but one of you was adopted.

Danny & Tim:

Danny: Only one...?

Danny: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?

Dick: Can either of you please learn the skill called "Think Before You Speak"?

Tim: Ya know... it might be.

*Danny and Tim are fighting*

Dick, taking aspirin: I have a headache! Can you guys just be cool?!

*Danny and Tim start fighting while wearing sunglasses and riding skateboards*

Dick: Please bring home PURIFIED water with NO minerals added for taste

Danny: We got spring water

Dick: NO.

Danny: with EXTRA minerals

Danny: it's like licking a stalagmite

Dick: DON'T COME HOME.

Danny: Mmmmm cave water

Tim: Tell Danny about the birds and the bees.

Dick: They're disappearing at an alarming rate.

Batman: Listen, I can explain...

Tim!Robin: You’re making $500,000 and you’re only gonna pay me $30,000?

Nightwing: You’re getting 30 grand? I’m getting $1,000!

Phantom: You guys are getting paid?

Bruce: *Trying to fill out legal paperwork stuff* Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB?

Tim: Bold of you to assume I was born at all.

Danny: I personally was created in a lab.

Dick: I just straight up spawned lol.

Dick: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me?

Alfred: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it.

Dick: Three of us saw it, Alfred. How do you explain that?

Alfred: *points at Tim* Sleep deprivation. *points at Bruce* Paranoia. *points at Danny* Delusional personality disorder.

Tim: Why is Dick so sad?

Danny: He took one of those “Which Hero Are You?” quizzes

Tim: And...?

Danny: He got Batman

Dick, banging on the door: Danny! Open up!

Danny: Well, it all started when I was a kid...

Tim: No, he meant-

Dick: Let him finish.

Tim: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Danny: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Tim: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING DICK WITH ME

Dick, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

Dick: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

Tim: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Dick: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Danny: edible

Dick: So, what, now I’m just supposed to do anything that Bruce does? I mean, what if he jumped off a cliff?

Tim: If Bruce were to jump off a cliff, he would’ve done his due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Bruce jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff.

Dick: You jump off a cliff!

Tim: Gladly. Provided Bruce did first.

Danny: Why are you on the floor?

Tim: I'm depressed.

Tim: Also I was stabbed, can you get Alfred, please.

Dick: If you had to choose between Tim and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose?

Danny: That depends, how much money are we taking about?

Tim: Danny!

Dick: 63 cents.

Danny: I'll take the money.

Tim: Danny!!!

Danny: I'm incredibly fast at math.

Tim: Alright, what's 30x17?

Danny: 47

Tim: That's not even close.

Danny: But it was fast.

Danny: *Stubs his toe* FUCK!

Dick: Mind your language!

Danny: What else am I supposed to say, “Woe is I”???

Dick:

Danny: You have to accept that swear words are necessary sometimes.

Tim: Remember when you didn't try to solve all your problems with attempted murder?

Danny: Stop romanticizing the past.

Danny: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died-

Dick: Twelve, actually.

Danny: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really whose fault is that?

Dick: Yours!

Danny: That's right: no one's.

Tim: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis.

Danny: You're like 15 years old

Tim: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!

Danny: I’d like to offer you moral support, but I have questionable morals.

Tim: Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so...

Dick: You can de-escalate any situation by simply saying, 'Are we about to kiss?'

Dick: Doesn't work for getting out of speeding tickets, by the way.

Danny: Physically, yes, I could fight a bird. But emotionally? Imagine the toll.

Tim: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

Tim: What doesn't kill me should run, because now I'm fucking pissed.

Danny, threatening the others with a paintball gun: Listen... Life comes at us fast. We don't know what life is gonna give us... And today, it's gonna give you... a paintball!

Dick: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.

Danny, pre death: If I'm really as evil as you say I am, then have the gods strike me down where I stand.

*dies*

Phantom: Ha! Nice try, jackass! Next time, give it your A-game!

Shapeshifter: *transforms to look like Tim*

Tim: Okay, are you like BLIND? You look nothing like me. First off, I'm way taller. Secondly, I DO NOT look so sleep deprived and lastly, if you could drag comb through that hair you're like a 7 on a good day and I've been told I'm a constant 10.

Danny: Goodnight moon.

Danny: Goodnight tree.

Danny: Goodnight ghosts that only I can see.

Dick: People are always asking me if I'm a morning person or a night person.

Dick: And I'm just like, 'Buddy! I'm barely even a PERSON!'

Tim: You seem familiar, have I threatened you before?

[the-bi-space-ace]

A Few Days

Summary: Echo has a tough mission and finds himself flying to Pabu in search of comfort and reassurance from people he has missed. Fluff and snuggles follow.

I said I would write it and it took some time but I finally did it 🥰

Fic based off of this artwork by @foxwithadarkside

tagging @saturn-sends-hugs @floundrickthewayfarer @phantom-of-the-501st @writingmonet @renton6echo because I think you might like this one <3

It wasn’t often Tech had to fix his legs and his scomp at the same time but the recent mission he’d returned from had beaten him to his end. Echo didn’t always get to come back to Pabu but something in him ached to see the rest of his family again, even if it was just for a few days. He hadn’t warned any of them other than a quick message to Tech moments before he exited hyperspace. His voice would’ve cracked if he heard their voices without being able to be there with them, and he’d rather not give them more reasons to worry. Tech had met him, greeting him with a big smile and a strong hand on his shoulder. The relief he felt just by seeing Tech’s face was enough to lighten some of the load he was carrying.

The rest of the batch hadn’t heard he was on Pabu yet, all of them off doing their own things somewhere on the island. He could wait a few hours to see them, he’d waited long enough already, but that ache stung a little more as he chatted with Tech on the way to the house the batch had made their own. It was cooler than he expected, or maybe it was just his adrenaline wearing off, when he took his prosthetics off to let Tech take a look. He’d looked younger as he brushed grime off of the metal, eyes widening with thought, already falling into a long explanation about what exactly he was going to do to make them work better. 

Not that long ago Tech left him to get some tools, grab Hunter and Wrecker, and track down the rest of their little crew. Which left Echo alone to settle into one of the bedrooms off of the hallway.  

It was a nice house, although a bit too cool for him as the night began to set in. Echo stayed there as often as he could, some of his stuff - a few sweaters and t-shirts - even strewn about as if someone had been wearing his clothes while he was gone. He didn’t mind, almost preferred it. It made the distinct scent of home settle in his bones as he picked a red sweater up off of the ground next to the bed. It was a gift from Wrecker back when he first joined. One of Wrecker’s old sweaters that he’d given to Echo so he felt more ‘at home.’ The gesture was nice, even if that thing reached his knees, and it had easily become one of Echo’s favorite pieces of clothing. The cool air was chilling him to the bone now, goosebumps popping up over his skin. He felt the soft fabric between his fingers. It was often stored away for sleeping, or when they traveled anywhere more frigid, but that feeling pulsed in him again and he suddenly had to get it on. 

He peeled off his shirt and let it fall to the floor below then slid the sweater over his head and breathed a deep sigh of relief. The sweater warmed him a bit more, settling him as he thought of the next few days. A few days to recharge, a few days to sleep and eat and talk with the batch. A few days.

The patter of footsteps took his attention, head turning just enough that he could attempt to see who was stomping up the front steps. A set of two, one much smaller than the other, grew in tandem with their voices as the front door to the home opened. 

“You just don’t want to admit that I’m right!” Omega said, indignant as ever. Echo leaned forward now to try and get the hallway into view but all he could see was the door frame.

“Or maybe you should learn to listen to your elders.” Crosshair snarked. No doubt they’d been at that for awhile. Crosshair had a way of getting under just about everyone’s skin. 

“Technically, I’m older-” 

“Technically- you sound like Tech.” 

“So what if I-” 

“Are you two going to argue the whole time I’m here?” Echo asked, grinning as the argument went quiet. A second passed then there was a loud commotion as those peaceful footsteps turned into running - and probably shoving - as they rushed down the hallway to investigate the voice. The two of them nearly fell through the doorway, almost trampling over each other to win some silent race to get to their destination first. 

Omega caught sight of Echo, her eyes widening as she saw him, gasping. “Echo!” Omega exclaimed, shoving past Crosshair and running over to him with her arms outstretched. His own smile must’ve matched hers as he scooped her off of the ground, groaning as he lifted her up onto his lap with one arm, hugging her as tightly as he could. 

His eyes stung but he couldn’t stop smiling, holding her tight as she pressed her face into his neck. It had been so long. Maybe he’d left too long between visits. He’d been so caught up that he hadn’t realized how badly he missed them until he needed to see them immediately. 

Omega pulled back from him, beaming. “Nobody told me you were coming home!” 

“I didn’t know until I was almost here.” Echo answered honestly. She slid off of his lap to stand in front of him, his hand still resting on her arm. “I needed a good break. You could show me what trouble you’ve been up to.” 

“Oh it’s plenty of trouble.” Crosshair stood not too far away, arms folded over his chest while he pretended not to be pleased to see him. 

Echo grinned up at the man, dressed now in light, loose fabrics, and chewing on a toothpick. Some things never change. “I’m sure she gets it all from you.” 

Crosshair huffed in amusement. “I wouldn’t be pointing fingers if I were you. You’re at least half of the blame.” 

“Half?!” Echo shook his head at the accusation, already pulling Omega back into a hug that she eagerly returned. “Don’t listen to him, I’m sure you’re an angel. And you get it all from me, right?” 

She laughed as she turned her head to narrow her eyes at Crosshair. “Every bit.” As if on command the two of them stuck their tongues out at each other and Echo had to roll his eyes. Children. “Sorry about-” She tugged on the red sleeve, eyes glancing up at him. “We… we missed you.” Ah. He’d figured as much. 

“That’s alright, sweetheart.” Echo assured her, readjusting so he could rest his cheek on the top of her head. Crosshair had inched closer but was still a bit too far away for Echo to greet, smiles growing as their eyes met. She pulled away before plopping down next to him, leaning heavily onto his side as he tossed his arm around her shoulders. It had definitely been too long. 

“Ya cold or something?” Crosshair asked with a nod towards the sweater.

“All that adrenaline is wearing off.” Echo sighed as he leaned back against the wall. “You know how it is.” Crosshair hummed, something twinkling behind his eyes that only spelled trouble. 

“Well if you’re cold,” Crosshair strolled forward and it set Echo on edge, watching his movements for ‘danger’ as Omega tucked herself closer to Echo’s side. With what must’ve been a coordinated attack Omega laid on his arm to hold him hostage while Crosshair jumped onto the bed next to them. Echo startled and instinctively tried to protect himself despite having nowhere to go. Hopeless is what it was. Crosshair had his cold fingers up the hem of the sweater well before Echo had any control of the situation, drawing a yelp out of him as those icy hands chilled his already cool skin. 

Son of a bitch! 

Leave it to Crosshair to wait until he wasn't in danger of getting whacked by his scomp to pull something like this. Echo shivered as the two of them laughed. Betrayed. He’d been betrayed by his own family. Those frigid digits retreated, self satisfied smirk on Crosshair’s face as if he’d just won some competition.

“Hello, Crosshair. Great to see you again.” Echo groaned as he leaned his head back against the wall. 

“It’s been too long. I haven’t gotten to bother you in ages.” Crosshair plopped his chin into his hand, those mischievous eyes twinkling like they always did. The other arm remained tucked around his middle. 

“We’ll have some time to make up for it.” Echo grumbled, even as a smile wormed its way into his words. He sighed, looking between the two of them as they watched him. He’d really missed them. That stinging was in his eyes again so he leaned his head back to avoid watching them, avoiding getting too emotional to cover it up. “I was comfortable, you made me cold again.” Crosshair hummed then a silence followed and Echo grew suspicious again, now wary of the position he’d found himself in. 

“Don’t struggle.” The joy in Crosshair’s voice was enough of a hint. 

Echo’s eyes shot down to them as Omega’s grip on his arm tightened, her face pushing into his side. “What’re you- no!” It was too late. Crosshair had gripped the hem of his sweater and was shoving his whole head under it. There wasn’t much room to wiggle but Echo did his best, trying to avoid whatever evil intentions Crosshair had. 

“I said don’t struggle.” Crosshair scolded as he flopped sideways onto the bed and shifted around, head shoving into Echo’s ribs. Turns out ‘evil intentions’ meant snuggles. 

“You’re so weird.” Echo complained, not amused by Omega’s muffled giggles at their bickering. Crosshair eventually settled down on his back, half shoved into the sweater and resting half way on Echo’s lap and stomach. The sweater was big enough to accommodate them both at least, stretching to cover most of them. Content that he wasn’t going to get any more icicles shoved onto his bare skin Echo settled down, allowing the other two to snuggle closer to him in the rapidly dimming light. 

“Warmer?” Crosshair asked. Echo huffed but didn’t deny it, feeling more than hearing Crosshair’s chuckle. “Big baby.” Echo’s jaw dropped in offense. 

“I’m not the-” He sighed, directing his next question at Omega who was doing her best to look innocent. “Is he just as annoying when I’m gone?”

“Worse.” She admitted. That certainly wasn’t shocking. She lowered her voice as if it would cut Crosshair out of their conversation. “He won’t admit it but he misses you.” There was a tsk from under the fluffy mound.

“Aw.” Echo teased. 

“Traitor.” The fluffy sweater mound shuffled to get a little more comfortable. A few fingers prodded at the sensitive skin on his side to make him squirm, a reluctant laugh escaping before Crosshair gave up and settled down again. “How long are you staying?” The question was quiet, mumbled, and Echo had to swallow the lump in his throat before he answered. 

“Few days. Enough time to get on my feet again.” They fell silent. Something sad coiled in his gut. Missing them had been the hardest part. Each time leaving grew more difficult. Seeing them all start to grow older, become different people as time paved its way forward. Holos didn’t do it justice. After a moment Omega rubbed her cheek on the fabric of his sweater. 

“At least we get you for a little while.” She whispered, yawning into her fist before snuggling even closer. Echo tightened his arm around her. A little while. At least, after everything, he still had them. At least he still had Rex. At least he still had his family. 

Echo stared at the motionless little lump under his sweater, smiling to himself as he leaned down towards it. “I missed you, too.” He whispered to where he guessed Crosshair’s head was. He got nothing but a hum and the feeling of Crosshair’s body tightening into a smaller ball, cuddling closer as if to wrap himself around Echo’s middle. He let the quiet of the night settle in around them then, even if he wanted to keep them talking. They’d have some time to catch up before he went.

After all, he had a few days. 

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Sweeter Than Revenge Epilogue

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 31. Panic Attack Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: As you begin to head home after your traumatic night, you discover Tyler's concerns were valid. But can you learn to overcome your fears when your greatest fear might still come true? Are things truly over between you and Tyler? Word Count: 5283 TW: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, PTSD, Panic Attack, Head Injury, Blood, Dissociating, Heartbreak, Tears, Tyler carries Reader, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @green-socks for the incredible beta read and advice! And to @mayhem24-7forever and @blue-aconite for all the constant support! Part of @ailesswhumptober's whumptober event!

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

Unfortunately, Tyler had been right about how the events of that night would affect you.

Scott got you checked into the hospital and they managed to remove all the remaining glass from your aching body. They also ran a CT scan on your head to make sure you hadn’t done more damage when you hit it than you thought. It came back as a mild concussion, but they wanted to keep you overnight for observation just to be safe. They also put you on an IV since you were slightly dehydrated (probably from all the tears you’d shed that night).

As you settled into your temporary accommodations, you told Scott he could go back to the motel and pick you up tomorrow. There was no reason he should hang out here all night when he already rented a room with a somewhat comfortable bed before all of this happened. He didn’t respond either way, just sunk down lower in the chair he was sitting in. 

Taking that as him intending to stay, you rolled over and tried to get comfortable in the lumpy hospital bed. You stared at the empty space beside you where Tyler usually lay and you reached out, as if touching that spot would somehow make him appear. But of course, he didn’t. He was back picking up the pieces of your budding relationship in what was left of your shattered motel room.

You try to bury your head in your pillow so Scott doesn’t see the tears forming in your eyes, but you can’t hold back a loud sniffle as you think about all that you lost tonight. Scott must have heard it because he rose from his chair and ducked out of the room. You didn’t blame him. After all, he’d never been good with emotions—expressing them or dealing with them—and you were only just starting to reestablish your relationship so he had to be uncomfortable.

Ten minutes later, however, Scott walked back into the room. Coming up to your bed, he thrust his hand out. “Here.”

You blinked in surprise at the teddy bear he held out to you. It was about a foot tall with brown fur. There was a bandaid on its head next to its ear, its arm was in a sling, and one of its legs was wrapped in bandages. Scrawled across its tummy in childlike writing was the phrase “Get Well Soon”. 

Taking it from him with trembling hands, you asked, “Wh-where did you…?”

He shrugged. “The gift shop. I thought you might want something to keep you company while you sleep.”

“I love it, Scotty. Thank you.” You squeeze the bear tightly to your chest. Smiling up at your brother, you said, “I’m gonna call him Bill.”

Scott’s brow furrowed. “Why Bill?”

You shrugged, holding out your new friend to look at him. “I don’t know. He just looks like a Bill.”

Scott sighed as he shook his head, but you caught a glimpse of a small smile on his lips as he walked back to the chair he had been sitting in earlier and flopped back down. He pulled the bill of his baseball hat down so it covered his face as he sunk deeper into his seat. 

Picking at Bill’s bandage, you asked softly, “So, you’ll be here all night? Like if I…if I need something?”

“Yeah,” Scott said from under his hat. “I won’t leave you alone.”

Nodding in gratitude, you whispered, “Thank you, Scotty. For everything.”

With one finger—in an act that reminded you so much of Tyler—he pushed the bill of his hat up enough so he could see you. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I would never have forgiven myself if something had happened to you and that last conversation we had was the last time I ever got to talk to you.”

“I’m glad we’ve gotten to talk more and work everything out.”

“Me too.” Scott's smile widened. Then he pulled his hat back down over his face. “Now, try to get some sleep. You’ve got a plane to catch tomorrow.”

Rolling back over, you tucked Bill under your arm and hugged him tight to your chest. As you began to drift off, you wondered if Tyler was lying down to sleep yet, and—if he was—if he was thinking of you too.

You're back in that motel room. All the lights are out and you are standing by the bed in that merch shirt and your underwear. Looking around, you realize that you’re alone. Tyler isn’t anywhere to be seen. 

You take a single step forward and the entire room explodes. The window in front of you shatters into millions of tiny dagger-like pieces of glass which drive into you, pinning you to the floor. Your head slams into the bed and you feel a river of blood flowing into your hair and pooling around you. The wind seems to have come alive as it growls and roars at you, clawing at your legs and trying to drag you through the now gaping hole in the wall. You scream out for Tyler, for Scotty, for anyone who might save you but there is no one. As the blood continues to gush from your head, the pool rises, spilling into your mouth and drowning you. You gasp for air which is stolen by the storm and—

“We can’t snap her out of it, she’s not coming to.”

“All this screaming is going to terrify the other patients.”

“She’s thrashing around too much, she’s going to pull out her IV.”

“We need to sedate her.”

“Wh-what’s going on? What’s wrong with her? Is she okay?”

Even through the terror flooding your system, you recognized that last voice as your brother’s. But before you could open your eyes or try to reach him, you felt a small prick on your arm and you were pulled down into a dark, dreamless unconsciousness.

When you slowly woke up again, you noticed sunlight streaming through the half-opened blinds. Your throat was even sorer than you remembered when you fell asleep and it felt bone dry. Reaching blindly next to you for a glass of water, you felt hands gently take yours and lay it back on the bed.

“Hey,” Scott said softly, stepping into your field of vision. “Just rest. Do you need something?”

“Water,” you croaked out, your tongue running over your chapped lips. 

Scott disappeared for a moment then reappeared with a plastic cup. You tried to take it from him only to finally realize your hand felt heavy and sluggish when you tried to move it—as did the rest of your body. Scott must have noticed because he lifted your head and helped you drink. After you had chugged most of the cup (spilling a lot of it down the front of your hospital gown), you felt a little better. 

Clearing your throat, you asked, “What happened?”

“You had a nightmare last night.” Scott settled back into a chair he must have dragged up next to the bed. “They couldn’t wake you up and were afraid you’d hurt yourself so they sedated you.”

“Oh.”

“Do you remember any of that?”

“Now that you mention it, yeah.” You shuddered slightly as you recalled your nightmare. “I guess Tyler was right about how what happened might have affected me.” 

“I’m sorry.” Scott reached out and took your hand. Something caught his eye and he grabbed it off the floor with his free hand. Gently, he placed Bill on the bed next to you. “Guess he didn’t do such a good job watching over you.” 

Grabbing the bear, you hugged it tightly. “He did his best. Sometimes, there’s only so much you can do to protect someone.” Tears began to fill your eyes. “And sometimes, protecting someone means making painful decisions. But even then, it might not be enough.” 

Scott scoffed softly. “Something tells me you’re not talking about Bill anymore.”

You shook your head. “Tyler tried so hard to keep me safe. He even sent me away despite it breaking both our hearts to do it. But it didn’t matter. I left like he wanted but the storm still followed me. Now I’m afraid I’ll never be rid of it and I gave up someone I loved for nothing.”

Scott shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with you once again admitting you were in love with Tyler, but he resisted his usual urge to insult him, instead calmly saying, “We all knew this wasn’t going to be an overnight process. Owens told you to leave because he didn’t want you to have to face the possibility of encountering another storm. But that was never going to fix the damage done to you by the first one. I don’t know what it’ll take to heal that, but I do know I’m not turning my back on you again. Whatever you need, I’ll be there to help you through it.”

The tears that had formed in your eyes began streaming down your face. You opened your arms, fully expecting him to not take the invitation. But to your utter surprise, Scott leaned forward and wrapped you in a—slightly awkward—embrace. 

With his head next to yours, you whispered your deepest fears to your brother, “What if I can’t move past this? What if what happened last night is just my new normal for the rest of my life? And what if…what if Tyler realizes he doesn’t really love me or want to deal with all this new baggage I have?” 

Scott flinched at your admitted fears. Hesitating for a moment, he finally admitted, “I don’t know the answer to those questions. I think you need to find someone to talk to, like a therapist. I have some friends who might know someone who specializes in stuff like this and I’ll make some calls. As for Owens, if he can’t see what an amazing woman you are, baggage or no, then I was right all along about him. But…” He sighed in a way that made it seem like whatever came next pained him to say, “He seems to really care about you and, from what I saw last night, he didn’t want you to leave any more than you wanted to leave. So, I don’t think you have to worry about him not reaching out once the season’s over. And if he doesn’t, I can always run him over with Scarecrow.”

You laughed even as your snot and tears stained Scott’s shirt. “Would that be more for my honor or just because you’ve wanted to do that for so long anyway?”

“Can’t it be both?”

You laughed again and you felt as the last remaining bit of your nightmare still clinging to you faded into oblivion. However, you knew it’d be back. Last night was just a taste of what you should expect moving forward. 

You were discharged from the hospital later that day with a bottle of sleeping pills and your promise to find a therapist to help you deal with your nightmares. Once you left, Scott drove you to the airport as promised. He sat with you until it was time to go through security. Then, you gave your brother the biggest hug you could manage and said goodbye. You would think with all the goodbyes you had to say the last two days you would have gotten used to them. But as you turned one final time to look at him before you passed through the security doors, tears filled your eyes once more. 

You had found or rediscovered two families on this trip only to once again be left all alone.

The flight home was uneventful. You had called ahead and explained everything to your best friend so she was waiting to take you to your apartment as soon as you walked out of the terminal. Despite your objections, she insisted on staying with you for the first couple of nights after hearing about your hospital freakout. But you didn’t want her to see you like that, to know how bad things really were. So, you tried your best to stay awake the entire time she was there (and luckily the one time you did doze off, you were so exhausted you didn’t dream at all). So, she left two days later, confident that you would be alright on your own.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

Even safely back in your own apartment, far from the rolling plains and open skies of Oklahoma, the events of that night continued to haunt you. Anytime the wind picked up outside or you heard a police or fire siren go off, you flashed back to that motel room and devolved into a full-blown panic attack. And every night you woke up multiple times, gasping for breath and terrifiedly retreating from any window in your apartment. At least when the storm had actually hit, you had Tyler there to comfort you. Now, you were alone.

One night after a particularly bad attack, you managed to roll out of bed and crawl into your closet. There, curled in a ball on the floor, you sobbed and shook as that night replayed in your mind. But then, you heard a voice whispering “Shhh… sweetheart, it’s over now. We’re okay, we’re okay. We made it.” 

Your head shot up and you looked around the dark space. “Tyler?”

But of course, he wasn’t there. It was just part of the memory. Yet as you laid back down on the floor, it wasn’t the howling of the wind roaring in your ears or pulling at your clothes, it was Tyler’s voice repeating those words over and over again that you heard and you felt his fingers caressing your skin as he tried to soothe you. In minutes, you had drifted off to sleep.

After that, you spent most nights curled in the bottom of your closet. You cleaned out the shoes and boxes scattered across the floor, laid a few blankets down, tossed in a pillow, and placed Bill on top so he was waiting for you. It wasn’t the most comfortable of arrangements, but being in the closet helped ease some of the terror from your dreams, so it would do. 

Scott had an old friend from MIT whose sister was now one of the country’s top PTSD therapists so, true to his word, he made a call to get you an appointment. It felt a little strange being labeled as having PTSD, but then again, you couldn’t think of any other way to describe what you were dealing with. 

It took more than a few visits, but eventually, your work with the therapist seemed to be paying off. You still had the nightmares but they became a few times a week occurrence instead of an every night thing. And even when you did have one, you could usually manage to calm yourself down and go back to sleep shortly after (though you were still sleeping in your closet most nights just to be on the safe side). 

You called Scott after every appointment to let him know how it went. Since you had gotten home, you talked to your brother at least once a day, usually just to check in and see how you were doing. Things still weren’t perfect between the two of you, but they were better than they had been in years. In fact, your relationship was probably better than it had ever been. Scott was still his usual no-nonsense, unemotional, snarky self, but there was a softness in his tone that hadn’t been there before. And you even made him laugh on occasion.

He never mentioned Tyler and you never asked. 

A few times a week, you received texts or emails from the Wranglers, usually sending you a funny video or asking how you were. You missed your little found family so much and it was a relief to see you weren’t the only one. Part of you thought they might not give you a second thought once you left, but it was clear they missed you as much as you missed them. 

They never mentioned Tyler and you never asked.

You still couldn’t bring yourself to watch any of their YouTube videos, old or new. Once you had gotten deeper into your therapy though, your therapist encouraged you to. She said it would help tackle some of your fears of the storms by experiencing one, but all from the complete safety of your apartment. It was sound advice…if that was your issue with the videos.

You didn’t tell her it wasn’t that you couldn’t face the storm, it was that you couldn’t bear to see or hear Tyler in the videos. Even seeing his picture on one of the thumbnails had made your heart ache and tears well up in your eyes before you slammed the laptop shut.

Part of you felt stupid about how much you missed him. After all, he had only been in your life for three weeks. Yet you had known from your first kiss that you never wanted anyone else. In your mind, Tyler was it for you and to have him ripped away so suddenly was devastating. You knew if you watched those videos, they would just remind you of riding beside him in that perfect bubble you had lived in for those few weeks. When the world was perfect and nothing could go wrong. How naive you had been.

But as much as the pain of saying goodbye was on your mind, worse was the constant fear that you shared with Scott in the hospital. That the distance would make Tyler realize he didn’t want you and you would be left sitting by the phone for a call that would never come. And seeing Ty, hearing his voice as he did the thing he loved most in this world, would make that eventual rejection hurt all the more. If you maintained your clean break, then if things were truly over, you didn’t have to start the healing process all over again once it became clear you’d never hear from Tyler again.

Or that’s what you told yourself. 

Thirty-six days after you left Oklahoma, you were cleaning up after dinner when your phone rang. Figuring it was Scott calling for his nightly check-in, you paused your music and snatched your phone off the counter. 

Your world stopped as you saw the contact photo staring back at you. 

It was the first time you had seen his face since the thumbnail incident and he was every bit as handsome as in your memories. Pressing the answer button, you raised your trembling hand to your ear, still not believing it was really him.

“Hello?” you whispered, voice quivering as you held your breath.

There was a slight pause, and then, “Hey, sweetheart. You feeling up for a visitor?”

You let out a shaky breath of relief, as the sound of his voice washes over you. “Fuck yeah, I am,” you said, tears streaming down your beaming face. “I’ve been waiting for your sorry ass to call since the moment I left. How soon can you be here?”

He chuckled, the sound sending a warm glow spreading through your body. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Your phone slipped from your fingers and your head shot up as there was a loud knock at your door.

Tripping over your own feet as you scrambled towards the door, you flung it open without pausing to confirm who was on the other side. 

And there he was.

Whether it was true or just the fact you had gone so long without seeing him, Tyler had never looked more handsome. With his hair freshly trimmed, just a faint hint of stubble lining his cheeks, and wearing a fresh pair of jeans with a new button-down green shirt that highlighted his eyes, he was breathtaking. But what really made you weak in the knees was the dimpled grin he gave you as his eyes lit up upon seeing you.

“There’s my girl.”

You launched yourself into his arms, tears streaming down your face as your lips found his. You heard his hat and phone clatter to the ground where he had been holding them, but you didn’t care. His hands settled on your waist—you had forgotten how large and strong they were—and he pulled you flush against his body. You gasped into his mouth at the sudden movement and he rocked gently against your hips. 

He still smelled like the moment before a rainstorm, fresh and earthy, but he had also put on some cologne for the occasion. It was only then that you realized while he had gotten all fancy for his visit, you were currently in a pair of ratty sweatpants and a tank top stained by tonight’s spaghetti sauce. And that wasn’t even mentioning the state of your hair or your lack of makeup.

Peeling your mouth away from his, you muttered, “You should have told me you were coming. I’m a complete mess.”

But Tyler shook his head, one hand sliding up your body until it cupped the base of your neck. “No, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” And he kissed you again.

This time it was needier, hungrier, and it reminded you of your kiss the first night you invited him into your room. But if things were headed in that same direction….

“Ty,” you moaned against his lips, your bare toes curling on the concrete as a jolt of pleasure went through your core. “Not here. We can’t do this in the hall.”

Reluctantly, he pulled away, his green eyes dark and his lips swollen. “I’m sorry,” he panted. “I, uh, I let things get away from me for a moment.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled at him, still amazed he was standing before you even as you still tasted him on your tongue. Grabbing his hand, you cried, “God, I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He smiled back then grabbed his phone and hat off the floor. You chuckled softly as you noticed his call to your phone was still active just before he ended it. 

As he grabbed his things, you quickly reentered your apartment and tried to do a five-second cleaning job: flinging dirty clothes into your bedroom, tossing old take-out boxes into the pantry, stuffing your vibrator deep into the couch cushions. You whirled around just in time to see Tyler walking through the door with his hat and duffle bag in hand.

He looked around the small apartment and let out a whistle. “Nice place. It feels very…you.”

“Thanks, I guess.” You walked over and took his hand. “I can’t believe you’re here! How did you even know where to find me?”

Tyler grinned. “Your brother. He gave me your address before Storm PAR left for the season.”

Your jaw dropped open. “He knew? I talk to that dickhead every day and he didn’t tell me! Oh, the next time I talk to him, he’s getting a fucking earful.”

Tyler laughed as he trailed his knuckles across your jawline. “It’s called a surprise, sweetheart.” But then the light dimmed slightly in his eyes and his tone became slightly more serious. “And I wanted to make sure he thought you’d want to see me. I didn’t want to just show up only to find out you decided it was better to cut all ties with everything that happened, including me.”

You shook your head. “Never. I’ve missed you every fucking day since I left, Tyler Owens, and sometimes, the hope of having this moment was all that kept me going.”

“How’ve you been? I didn’t want to invade your privacy by asking Scott and he never offered any information so…” He shrugged, not knowing how to end the thought.

You hesitated for a moment as you tried to find your own words. “I’m…okay. You were right and I’ve struggled with what happened. They say I have PTSD, but I’ve got a really great therapist and I’m making progress. It hasn’t been easy, but I’m getting through it.”

“That’s my girl,” Tyler whispered. He brushed a stray piece of hair off your face. “I’m just so sorry any of this happened. And I’m so sorry I couldn’t—”

“No,” you cut him off. “I told you before, Ty, I’m only alive because of what you did. So you’re not allowed to blame yourself for anything that happened. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He started to say something else, but it was just off by a large yawn. Suddenly realizing your manners (you didn’t have the same instinctual courtesy as Tyler did apparently), you took his hand and led him to the couch. “Oh god, I’m such a bad host. Do you want anything to eat or drink? I’ve still got a little spaghetti leftover from dinner or we can order something.”

Tyler smiled as he allowed you to drag him across the room. “No thanks, sweetheart. I grabbed something at the airport.”

You stopped. “Wait, you came straight from the airport?”

“Yeah, so?”

“No wonder you seemed tired! Do you want to lay down? Or take a shower or something? And—” Another sobering thought just occurred to you. “A-and how long are you planning on staying?”

Tyler squeezed your hand. “I can leave whenever you want me to but I have about a month before I have to be back to Arkansas. Everything else I can do from here or by talking with the crew.”

“A month?” Your heart fluttered in your chest. “I get you for a whole month?”

“Or until you’re sick of me.”

“Not gonna happen.” You pulled Tyler down for another kiss.

When you parted, Tyler sighed, “Now that you mentioned it though, I do think I’d like to take a shower if that’s alright. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, of course.” You tucked into the other room and grabbed a towel. Then you flipped on the light in the bathroom. “Soaps in the shower and if you need anything else, just call.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He kissed you on the forehead then ducked into the bathroom. “I’ll just be a minute.”

When he went to take a shower and wash off all his travel funk, you settled onto the couch. You quickly shot Scott a strongly worded text about him keeping this from you…but then added a thank you at the end for helping Tyler get to you.

Since the shower was still on, you pulled up the Wrangler’s YouTube channel on your iPad to watch a few of the videos you missed. It’s great seeing the whole crew again, but you noticed there was a significant change in their demeanor. They weren’t as energetic or wild as usual, especially Tyler. He was still putting on a show, but you could tell it was forced. 

Surprisingly, seeing the storm didn’t bother you in the slightest. Maybe it was the fact you always felt safe within Tyler’s truck. Or maybe it was because it was just a video and you knew it couldn’t hurt you. Or maybe it was just because Tyler was in the other room and you knew you were safe. But at least that was one goal marked off your therapy list.

As the video began to wind down, you began scrolling for another to click on when you heard Tyler giving his send-off. “As always, if you feel it, chase it! And, sweetheart—” Your eyes grew wide and you quickly scrolled to the top of the screen to see Tyler staring deeply into the camera, as if he were staring into your soul “—if you’re watching this, I love you. And I miss you so damn much.” He blew a kiss to the screen and the video ended. 

Stunned, you stared at the frozen image of the man you loved, his lips still puckered in his kiss for you. Quickly, you clicked on the next video and jumped to the very end. Tyler was saying something about getting a stronger balloon string next time, then he smiled at the camera and added, “Whether you ever see this or not, I love you, sweetheart. I hope you’re doing okay.”

You quickly clicked on the next one and skipped to the end. Tyler stood outside the truck with his hands on his hips, staring up at the now clear blue sky. Wiping the back of his hand across his eyes, he sighed and choked out, “Goddamn, you would have loved this one, sweetheart. Chases like this just aren’t the same without you next to me. I love you.”

You go through almost every video the Wranglers posted since you left. Even and every one of them ended with some variation of Tyler saying he loved you. With your heart nearly bursting, you played the last video, the one they posted yesterday as their final chase of the season. It showed Tyler grinning into the camera so wide his dimples were on clear display as he said, “I love you, sweetheart, and it’s finally time I chased ya. See you soon, my brave, beautiful girl.”

The iPad tumbled to the floor. All this time you had been so afraid Tyler wouldn’t come that you had avoided his videos. Yet, if you had just trusted him to keep his word, you would have known from day one not to doubt him or his feelings towards you. 

Standing, you stepped over the iPad and walked over to the bathroom. You heard the shower still running but you didn’t even knock before you turned the handle and went in. Tyler was rubbing soap all over his defined chest as you pulled the curtain back. He froze, not seemingly bothered by your intrusion, just confused.

He gave you a moment to explain what was happening, but when you didn’t speak, he asked,  “Hey, is everything okay?”

Without removing your clothes, you stepped into the shower. As water poured over your head, soaking you and weighing down your clothes, you placed your hands on either side of Tyler’s face. 

As he stared at you, concern etched on his face, you whispered, “I love you, too, Ty. And even if we have to do long distance for a while or make some big life decisions moving forward, I’m all in. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Tyler’s face softened and he tilted his face to kiss your palm. Then, he slid his arms around you, drawing you into his bare, soapy chest. Your arms wrapped around him as you rested your cheek against his tattoo while he stroked the nearly identical one on your back. And as he kissed the top of your head, he murmured, “Well, you better get comfortable, sweetheart. Because I’m never letting you go again.”

The two of you stood there embraced in each other’s arms underneath the spray until the water grew cold. And even then, you only separated long enough to strip off your clothes, both dry off, and for you to lead him into the bedroom. There, you lay on the bed facing each other and snuggled tightly together. There would be time for more rigorous and exciting bedroom activities later. Right now, you just savored the sound of his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin. 

You had gone to Oklahoma to find your brother. When that went south, you had sought out revenge. But it turned out you found something sweeter—you found the love of your life. 

And now, you intended to spend the rest of your life in his arms. 

Thank you to everyone who has read, reblogged, and commented throughout this series. Your support and love along the way has kept me motivated and excited to continue this series 💞 While the series may be over, I am more than happy to return to this world and its characters with one-shots and headcanons if desired. I pretty much have their entire future planned out in my head 😂 So if anyone is ever missing them, feel free to send me an ask or question about Tyler and Reader's future after the end of this story.

[mothiepixie]

I’m really curious because a lot of the Sanses have a jealous/possessive streak to them, and Motti seems so free-spirited and kind to everyone… does that ever cause conflict in their everyday life? Whether it’s from her hanging out with or getting hit on by other attractive people or monsters or, I guess in terms of “the bad Sanses”, would they ever try to get back at one another at all for hogging extra time with her behind the scenes? And does Motti ever feel stifled or is she appreciative and see it as them looking out for her?

I guess in general what I’m trying to ask is: To what extent are each of the Sanses with that quality jealous/possessive over Motti and how might she react to their behavior based on whatever level they happen to be at?

A lot of it really depends on who openly displays jealousy versus who is seething on the inside. Many of the Sanses lean towards redirecting her attention back to them or even asserting themselves so the person who is flirting or getting too close to her will sense the tension and back off. 

Others will openly show aggression and rudely call out the person which will embarrass Motti. Motti doesn’t perceive people flirting with her quite a lot because she gives the benefit of the doubt that they’re just being friendly since that is the energy she gives. So it will come off unexpected and unwarranted if one of the Sanses reacts boorishly.  While Motti is generally really easy going she doesn’t stand for rudeness and will reprimand if need be. 

Boysen, Big Red, the Bad Time Trio, and Nightmare are perhaps THE worst of the bunch. They don’t hold back or care to be couth and it will cause a lot of arguments.

Boysen is 50/50 with either showing or keeping his jealousy to himself. He has a three strike system he follows and while he does feel secure in himself, he does not like sharing and doesn't like someone lesser than him to even dream of thinking they have a chance. His methods are more insulting the person's intelligence, or attributes before his mask slips and threatens them. Motti will wait until they're home to have a heated discussion. A lot of it will be Boysen pointing out things about their character and that they annoyed him which will make Motti so frustrated she can't explain other then huffing.

Big Red and Motti will butt heads and while she would like to have a proper discussion when they get back home, he does test her patience and sometimes her hot headedness wins. They will have it out right then and there.

The Bad Time Trio see Motti like a cute kitten when she is upset and reprimanding them. It really doesn’t phase them in the slightest (mostly Dust and Horror), Killer likes to act like a kick puppy and try to use cuteness for her to forgive him (he’ll just learn to be more discreet and take care of the person out of view). If jealousy is amongst the three, then it’s one upping the other, smacking the other when Motti isn't looking, or even full on brawls. 

Nightmare doesn’t care in the slightest how upset or long Motti goes on a tangent about how he should act. He has made his claim on Motti and he’ll be DAMNED if he lets some nobody even think they can breathe her air. 

Other Sanses that keep to themselves when they are jealous try not to let it affect the quality of her life. Many of them genuinely know that their jealousy is indicative of their own personal gripes about the fear of losing her. 

Sans, Farmer, and Passive will simmer on the inside then be the kind to redirect Motti back to them, or display affection more so they feel more secure with her. 

Blue cares for Motti so much that if she chose another he would not stand in that person’s way because he cares for Motti’s happiness over his own. He will be the shoulder for her to lean on, but he will always pine for her. 

Dream is a conflicted and complicated fellow. He spends so much of his time giving every piece of himself to others, but also keeping everyone at arm’s length. So when he finally allows himself to love Motti, there are times he doesn’t want her to get too close because he struggles to accept her love for him isn’t due to his powers. However, when someone else gives Motti attention he may feel malcontent and unwilling to share her attention. He won’t ever admit he feels a sense of possessiveness, and will try to ignore his own feelings to make her happy. Lots of forced smiles. He could only share or allow someone to flirt with her if he has complete trust in them not taking her fully away from him. -cough- maybe someone like Blue-cough-

[guardian-angle22]

Happy to present to y'all this 911LS fic list for stories related to one of my favorite episodes 3.13 Riddle of the Sphynx! I try to make these as comprehensive as possible, so if you have any you think I missed, let me know so I can add them. (I also might make edits to these posts to add more fics as they get written. If I ever do so I'll be sure to reblog the post for visibility!)

Enjoy all of our amazing fandom writers and leave them some comments & love!

[Disclaimers: • If you're an author and don't like to be tagged or linked for any reason, let me know and I'll remove the tag and make sure not to do so in the future, no questions asked. • I usually post TWs in rec lists. Due to the episode subject matter, assume all of these have a TW for discussion of addiction/drug use and possibly discussion of parent death/grief.]

◆ Heard the risk is drowning by @paperstorm (Words: 15.3 K; Rating: M)

A tag for 3x13, "Riddle of the Sphynx", in which Carlos combats his own insecurities as TK tries to heal.

◆ Chasers by @carlos-in-glasses (Words: 13.4K; Rating: E)

After 3x13 – while TK is alone with Cooper, Carlos is alone with his thoughts. Both recall times they’ve chased the next high, other men, or each other. When Carlos arrives home, TK still has something important to say – and it's something he didn’t tell Cooper.

◆ trying my best by @reyescarlos (Words: 10.3K; Rating: M)

An exploration of TK's sobriety journey from 2017 to now. Or, a season 3 coda spanning 3x08-3x13

◆ You Showed me How it feels to Truly be Seen by @ramblingdisaster73 (Words: 3K; Rating: T)

Carlos works through the events of 3x13 "The Riddle of the Sphinx".

◆ Measure of a Man by @chicgeekgirl89 (Words: 1.8K; Rating: T)

“I want to be everything you need. That I can’t be, it hurts, T.K. It feels like a failure on my part. And as much as I’m trying to accept it, it’s hard.” A 3x13 coda in which Carlos struggles with a new definition of being "enough."

◆ I'll be here all the same by @strandnreyes (Words: 4.8K; Rating: G)

“I am glad you have someone you can talk to who can maybe do a better job at fixing things,” Carlos insists before dropping his eyes to their tangled together fingers. “All I want is for you to be okay.”It’s not surprising to hear, but it hits as if it was. That really is the root of this whole thing. As much as Carlos wants to do what he can to be the person to get TK to that place, at the end of the day all he really wants is for TK to get there.“I will be.”Or, three late night conversations following the events of 3.13

◆ Trigger by comes2gusu (Words: 4.7K; Rating: T)

TK is struggling with his newly found sobriety. After being triggered at an NA meeting, Cooper takes TK for omelets

◆ this love we carry by @thevenstar (Words: 7.6K; Rating: T)

A 3x13 coda in which Carlos has a conversation with a friend, puts his heart to rest, and learns that walking away does not mean surrender.

◆ Those Pieces by @taralaurel (Words: 7.3K; Rating: M)

"I, I'm not telling you all - this - so you can fix me," TK huffs a hot breath against Carlos' chin, "or save me or really, do anything, okay?" Carlos nods against TK's forehead. TK has done a lot of things in his life to deserve the bad that has happened to him. He has no idea what good he's done to deserve Carlos. Coda to 3x13

◆ the one i want by @chaotictarlos (Words: 2K; Rating: E)

TK gets Carlos to take his shirt off.

◆ i want you to unravel me by @reyescarlos (Words: 4.2K; Rating: E)

In the aftermath of the strain that's fallen over them, TK and Carlos bridge the gap with open conversation that brings them closer together, both emotionally and physically. [3x13 coda]

◆ Just Wanna Breathe by @theoceanismyinkwell (Words: 1.9K; Rating: G)

Carlos doesn’t dare look at him for long, knowing that his eyes have always been the window to his soul, the weakest part of his body, unveiling everything in the well of truths he’s kept a lid on for years and years. His family may not be able to read him as well as he feared for the decades he was in the closet, but TK has a way of crashing into his life with a formidable gentleness and a piercing understanding that unmoors him in every possible way.And that’s precisely what TK is doing now, keeping the warmth of his palms flush against the beating of Carlos’ skin, cradling his face, forcing them both to gaze into each other’s eyes and face each other’s unspoken terrors without flinching.TK sounds like he has a lump in his throat. “I’m going to say something, and I want you to listen to me and I want you to remember it.”---Or: What happens when Carlos comes back home after TK's talk with Cooper, and the confessions that spill out after.

◆ waiting on the sidelines by @morganaspendragonss (Words: 1.5K; Rating: T)

They’d promised each other no more secrets, and while Carlos rationally knows that these aren’t exactly secrets, there’s still this grain of resentment inside of him that scratches away with every beat of his heart. It’s something he can’t let show in front of TK ever again, which is why he’s here, outside Owen's house while TK and Cooper talk in the loft.If anyone’s going to understand what he’s feeling, it’s Owen Strand.

◆ Three Weeks In by @masterroadtripper (Words: 3K; Rating: T; TW: self-harm)

It’d been three weeks since Sadie had drugged them - nineteen days since TK started a ninety-day NA sobriety program at the local Synagogue and eleven days since Carlos had met Cooper for the first time - before Carlos realized that there was something else TK wasn’t telling him.

◆ What We Need by Ehm (Words: 3.1K; Rating: T)

"You okay, bud?" Cooper startled him out of his thoughts and he let go of the spoon with a clinking noise. He straightened up, embarrassed. "Sorry, I zoned out." "I can see that," Cooper sounded vaguely amused. "You wanna talk about it?" --- Three times TK has a conversation with Cooper, and one time he talks to Carlos. Or, 3x13 and beyond from TK's point of view.

◆ Nocturne by @sanctuaryforalluniverses (Words: 735; Rating: T)

Carlos comes home. (Post-ep for 3x13)

◆ Precious Love by @rmd-writes (Words: 11.6K; Rating: M)

This is five times TK thinks he doesn’t deserve love and one time he knows he does – an exploration of TK’s relationship with love and self-worth.

◆ Inside a snow globe by @goodways (Words: 6.9K; Rating: E)

It isn’t until TK is on top, lavishing Carlos’ neck, stroking his hand up his side, that Carlos brings their faces together, barely a suggestion of a kiss between them. He holds TK’s jaw and keeps him close whilst he readies the question in his mind. He breathes out a straightforward and tempting, “fuck me,” over TK’s lips which silences the world outside their bedroom. TK’s response whenever he’s asked for this has few variations between immediate enthusiastic compliancy and the sweet reassurance he knows Carlos is dying for. The answer is always yes. - The evening after TK gets his one month sobriety chip.

◆ my home has been your heart since the day i met you by @lavendergiroux (Words: 1.8K; Rating: M)

After Carlos leaves Cooper and TK to talk, all they do is talk about him. When Carlos comes home - they are still talking about him.

◆ Deep Talks and Cuddles by raniaswritings (Words: 1.2K; Rating: T)

TK talks to Cooper and Carlos comes back home after a few hours

◆ “What are you doing?” “I don’t want you to do that.” by @irispurpurea (Words: 1.1K; Rating: T)

Fictober 2022 Day 13 and 14. Prompts: “What are you doing?” “I don’t want you to do that.” “What are you doing?” Carlos looks up to find TK frowning at him from their bedroom. “I…” Carlos holds up the blanket in his hands, unsure what else to say. He thinks it’s pretty obvious what he’s doing. Then again, tonight has proven that he can’t do anything right, apparently, when it comes to TK.

◆ "It's your shirt..." by @lavendergiroux (Words: 780; Rating: M)

TK really didn't want to talk about it, he just really needed Carlos to claim him...

◆ sunkissed face by mooshkat (Words: 1K; Rating: T)

To show his appreciation, TK decides to make Carlos breakfast.

Spec Fics Written Prior to the Episode Airing/Canon Convergence:

◆ if the darkness comes, i'll stay by @doublel27 (Words: 3.2K; Rating: T)

“I had some things to do,” TK says, his stomach twisting. “Some things?” “Carlos, I texted,” TK reminds his boyfriend, because he did. “It’s fine.” “Is it?” Carlos asks, his voice dangerously calm. or TK comes home late for the third night in one week, and he and Carlos have a necessary confrontation. A speculative fic for 3x13.

◆ Caught by @littlemissmarianna (Words: 761; Rating: G)

“Who’s that?” Carlos doesn’t answer Mitchell’s question because he doesn’t know. There’s only a handful of people he can identify from the back, and this guy isn’t on the list. He has broad shoulders, though, and nice hair and is probably good-looking. Why else would TK be staring at him so intently?

◆ In Order to Get Back to Us by reyestrand (Words: 2.2K; Rating: G)

Carlos waits up for TK when he’s late coming home and they talk about the things they’re afraid to. - a 3x13 speculation fic

◆ still comparing your past to my future by @kiras-sunshine (Words: 17.4K; Rating: T)

Something else than the wallowing feeling of uneasiness, anxiety and hurt in the bottom of his stomach. All of it seems to have a chokehold on his heart and no matter what he tries to think about, his thoughts always go back to TK, to worry that keeps mixing in with everything, and the brightness of TK’s smile, the way the corner of his mouth curled up and his eyes shone, when he smiled at someone else than him.

[xhoess]

Rivals in the Spotlight

Yunho!dancer × fem!bod singer

Masterlist

Y/N is a passionate singer determined to secure a scholarship, often feeling overshadowed at her performing arts school by Yunho, a confident and popular dancer, dreams of becoming a professional dancer while managing the pressure from his family's legacy. When they are cast as the leads in the school's musical, their well-known rivalry escalates, leading to strong disagreements in during the rehearsals. Will they get over their little rivalry and put up a good show?

Wc: I think around 4k

Genre: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff

It is 8 am, and I am currently riding the bus to school. Today is the day I find out who will get the leads in the new school play. I don’t know a lot of people who are participating, but I definitely know one person: Jeong Yunho. That son of a bitch always knows how to get on my nerves, especially when I’m already in my worst mood.

I feel stupid writing this down, but I’ve been doing this for so long that I feel the need to keep this stupid diary updated. Even though it’s 40 percent me complaining about Yunho, it still is a good way to express myself, I think? I look out the bus window as the familiar scenery of my neighborhood blurs past. My thoughts keep circling back to the audition. What if I actually get the lead? What if Yunho gets it too?

As I walk into the school, I feel eyes burning into my back. That only means one thing: the names are out. My heart races as I rush to the performing arts hallway. A group of people is gathering around a piece of paper on the wall. Yunho is there too. Of course.

I push through the crowd, my palms sweating. I quickly find myself standing in front of the paper, and now I get why people have been staring. Me and Yunho need to play the two leads in the play. The worst part is that we need to play a couple. I play Alice, the female lead and yunho plays Jay the male lead.

"No fucking way... I thought you would be a background singer or something," Yunho says, standing next to me, also staring at the paper.

"Shut up, Yunho. You’re as tall as a tree, might as well play one," I snap before walking away.

The rest of the day, I try my best to avoid talking to people and head straight home after school. My best friend Rina calls me as soon as I get home.

"Can you believe this?" I vent, flopping onto my bed. "Of all people, I have to play opposite Yunho. This is a nightmare."

"Maybe you can be so miserable to him that he’ll quit," Rina suggests.

"I wish," I sigh. "But he’s way too competitive to just quit."

The next morning, I wake up with a knot in my stomach. I can't avoid Yunho forever. Rehearsals start today. I arrive at the auditorium early, hoping to get a moment alone before the chaos begins. The large, empty space feels oddly comforting. I stand on the stage, looking out at the rows of empty seats, trying to imagine myself performing without wanting to throw up.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around to see Yunho walking towards me, his usual smirk replaced with a more serious expression.

"Hey," he says, surprisingly without a hint of sarcasm. "We need to talk."

I cross my arms defensively. "About what?"

"Look, I know we don't get along, but we have to make this work for the play's sake. It’s important to both of us, right?" His voice is calm, almost sincere.

I’m taken aback by his change in tone. "Yeah, I guess."

"Let’s just try to keep it professional," Yunho suggests. "We can hate each other offstage, but when we’re up here, we need to be convincing."

I nod, still wary. "Fine. But don’t think this means I’m going to make it easy for you."

He chuckles. "Wouldn’t expect anything less."

The sun is setting, casting long shadows through the tall windows of the rehearsal room. Once everyone is ready for rehearsal we start. Because this is the first rehearsal we only needed to learn the first few pages.

I see yunho get in character and that reminded me that we are going to be lovers in the end of the play.

"Okay everyone, get in place for the first scene" the director said.

I stand across from yunho and did some last warming up.

"3.. 2.. 1.... and go!"

"Alice did you hear what happened" yunho says.

The rehearsals go on for a little more, but I keep forgetting a few words in some sentences. I can feel the tension growing.

"Buy Jay, you never know what happens when you say no" I say, I realize the sentence is wrong. And yunho does too.

"You're impossible, you know that?" Yunho snaps, slamming his script onto a nearby table. "Do you even care about this play?"

I cross my arms, matching his glare. "Of course I care! But you’re not the director, Yunho. Stop acting like you know everything and let's just continue"

He steps closer, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Someone has to take charge when you keep messing up your lines!"

My fists clench at my sides. "I wouldn’t mess up if you weren’t constantly trying to outdo everyone. This isn’t a solo performance, Yunho. It’s a team effort."

Yunho scoffs, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You just can’t handle that I’m better at this than you."

"Better?" I laugh bitterly. "Your ego is so big, I’m surprised you can fit through the door."

He narrows his eyes, his jaw tightening. "At least I put in the effort. All you do is complain and act like a victim."

My blood boils, and I take a step forward, refusing to back down. "You think you’re so perfect, don’t you? Always criticizing everyone else to make yourself look good."

"Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time practicing, we wouldn’t have these problems," he shoots back.

I feel my face flush with anger. "You’re such a jerk, Yunho. No wonder no one likes working with you."

For a moment, there’s silence, the words hanging heavily in the air. Yunho’s expression falters slightly, a flicker of hurt crossing his face before it hardens again.

"You don’t know anything about me," he says quietly, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. "You’re so wrapped up in your own little world, you can’t see past your own nose."

I open my mouth to retort, but the words catch in my throat. We stand there, breathing heavily, the room suddenly feeling too small, too stifling.

Finally, Yunho breaks the silence, his voice cold. "If you can’t handle this, maybe you should quit."

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. "Maybe I will," I manage to say, my voice shaking. "At least then I wouldn’t have to deal with you."

We stare at each other for a moment longer before I turn on my heel and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind me. My heart is pounding, a mix of anger and something else I can’t quite name. As I walk down the empty hallway, I can’t help but wonder if things will ever get better between us.

Yunho is left there standing, regretting some words he said.

The cool evening air hits my face as I storm out of the auditorium, my anger still simmering beneath the surface. I find a bench near the entrance and collapse onto it, trying to catch my breath. The sky is tinged with the pinks and purples of twilight, but I’m too wrapped up in my thoughts to appreciate the beauty.

"Why does he have to be such a jerk?" I mutter to myself, kicking a small pebble with my shoe.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a message from Rina.

**Rina:** Hey, how did rehearsal go? Any updates?

I hesitate before replying, not sure how to put my frustration into words.

**Me:** It was a disaster. Yunho and I had a huge fight. Again.

Her response is almost immediate.

**Rina:** Ugh, that sucks. Want to talk about it?

**Me:** Maybe later. I just need to cool down right now.

**Rina:** Okay, just remember, you’re amazing and you can handle this. Don’t let him get to you.

I smile slightly at her words, feeling a bit better. Rina always knows how to make me feel better.

The next day:

The cafeteria is buzzing with activity as I navigate my way through the crowd, holding my lunch tray. I spot Rina at our usual table and make my way over, sliding into the seat across from her.

"Hey," she says, giving me a sympathetic look. "You look exhausted."

I sigh, poking at my food. "Didn’t sleep much. Just kept thinking about everything that happened."

She nods, taking a bite of her sandwich. "Yunho really knows how to push your buttons, huh?"

"Yeah," I agree, feeling the frustration bubble up again. "I don’t get it. One minute he’s trying to be all professional, and the next he’s tearing me down."

"Maybe he’s just stressed," Rina suggests. "This play is a big deal for everyone."

"Maybe," I concede, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. "But it’s like he enjoys making me miserable."

Before Rina can respond, I hear a familiar voice behind me.

"Can we talk?"

I turn to see Yunho standing there, looking unusually serious. Rina raises an eyebrow, but I nod, getting up from the table. We move to a quieter corner of the cafeteria.

"What do you want, Yunho?" I ask, crossing my arms defensively.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Look, about yesterday... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to get so heated."

I blink, taken aback. This is not the Yunho I’m used to. "You’re... apologizing?"

"Yeah," he says, looking genuinely uncomfortable. "I’ve been thinking about what you said, and you’re right. I’ve been acting like a jerk."

I stare at him, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

He shrugs, looking away. "I guess I realized that we’re stuck with each other for this play, and if we keep fighting, it’s going to ruin everything. For both of us."

His words make sense, but it’s hard to let go of the anger so quickly. "So, what do you suggest?"

"Truce?" he offers, holding out his hand. "Let’s try to make this work. For the sake of the play."

I hesitate for a moment before shaking his hand. "Truce."

At the Rehearsal Room, Late Afternoon:

Back in the rehearsal room, there’s a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. Yunho and I still have our differences, but we’re making an effort to be civil. Our scenes start to flow better, the tension easing with each passing day.

One evening, after a particularly grueling rehearsal, I find myself sitting on the edge of the stage next to Yunho. We’re both exhausted but there’s a sense of accomplishment in the air.

"You know," I say, breaking the comfortable silence, "I never thought I’d say this, but we’re actually doing pretty well."

Yunho smiles, a genuine one this time. "Yeah, who would’ve thought?"

This new feeling was brewing in my chest, it wasn't hatred, it was far from that.

"You know I never meant to be harsh the other day" yunho says, looking down at his shoes that are hanging off the side of the stage.

"Its okay, I said some mean stuff to you too." You lift your shoulders a little while saying. "I really need this play to go well so I can have a higher chance of getting a scholarship. That's why I was getting pissed off by you" I say.

"My parents always expect the best of me, just because they were the best in their days doesn't mean I am. I guess that's why I got so angry at you for saying I wasn't a team player." Yunho sighs ".. I really try to be but sometimes my parents just get into my head and make me forget this is not a contest"

I frown at his story, it's sad that he can't express his passion the way he wants.

I stand up and hold my hand out for yunho. He looks up confused but grabs it, I pull him up and say "you need to enjoy this yunho, talk to your parents about it. It is your life and it should be fun while you're here" I say with a soft voice, not realizing that our hands are still together.

He suddenly pulls me into a hug which caught me off guard. "Thank you y/n. You're not so bad after all" I hear him whisper.

The morning of the play:

"Ahh! How are you feeling? Today’s the day!" Rina exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement as she walks next to me.

I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. "I’m feeling really good about all this. Not only will this improve my chances of getting a scholarship, but it’s also helped Yunho and me forgive each other."

We turn a corner, and my heart skips a beat when I see Yunho standing there, talking to one of his friends. I’m about to wave when I catch his words.

"I don't know, man. She is so annoying. I can't handle it any longer. I'm happy this act is all over after tonight."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Tears well up in my eyes. How could he say that after everything we’ve been through? After the connection we shared the other night?

Rina notices my change in demeanor immediately. "What’s wrong?"

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just heard Yunho saying he can't stand me and he's glad this is all over after tonight."

Rina's eyes widen in shock, then narrow in anger. "What? That can’t be right. That son of a bitch"

I nod, biting my lip to keep from crying. "I don’t know if I can go through with this tonight, acting like everything is fine. This play has done nothing but be stressfull, I'm done"

Rina takes my hand, her grip firm and comforting. "Listen, I know this hurts, but quitting now isn’t the answer. You’ve worked too hard to let this ruin it. Just hold on a little longer, don't say or do anything you will regret later" she said "I'll be right back just don't do anything okay?"

I nod, trying to take comfort in her words, but the ache in my chest remains. I steal another glance at Yunho, who’s laughing at something his friend said

Later that day in the school's hallway:

“That jerk,” she mutters, clenching her fists. “I can’t believe he said that about you after everything you two have been through.”

I shrug, trying to act indifferent, but the hurt is clear in my eyes. “It’s fine, Rina. Let’s just get through tonight.”

“No, it’s not fine,” she snaps, standing up abruptly.

Before I can stop her, Rina storms across the hallway, heading straight for Yunho. My heart races, and I quickly follow her, catching snippets of her angry muttering.

“Rina, wait!” I call out, but she’s already reached Yunho and his group.

“Hey, Yunho!” Rina’s voice cuts through the chatter, silencing the group. Yunho looks up, surprised.

“Rina? What’s up?”

“What’s up?” she repeats, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll tell you what’s up. How dare you talk about Y/N like that behind her back?”

Yunho’s brows furrow in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Rina spits, crossing her arms. “Y/N heard you this morning, calling her annoying and saying you’re glad this is all over after tonight. How could you, after everything you two have been through?”

Yunho’s face pales, realization dawning on him. “Wait, that’s not what I—”

“Oh, save it!” Rina cuts him off, her anger palpable. “She thought you were friends, that you understood each other. But you’re just a two-faced jerk!”

By now, a small crowd has gathered, watching the confrontation unfold. I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment and hurt, but I don’t stop Rina. She’s saying everything I wish I had the courage to say.

“Rina, please,” Yunho tries again, his voice pleading. “You’ve got it all wrong. I wasn’t talking about Y/N like that.”

“Then who were you talking about?” Rina demands, her eyes blazing.

Yunho takes a deep breath, looking around at the crowd before focusing on Rina. “I was talking about the director, I was talking to my friend about how I’ve been feeling overwhelmed by her, she has been on my toes the last few rehearsals. And plus if I had to say something mean to y/n I would just say it to hee face, I've done it the last few years.”

Rina’s anger falters, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face "Oh, well this is awkward" she said while laughing awkwardly.

That evening:

A buzz of excitement fills the air as students, teachers, and parents take their seats in the auditorium. Backstage, the cast is a whirlwind of activity, making final adjustments to costumes and props. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of nerves and exhilaration. I peek through the curtain and see the audience settling in. This is it. Months of hard work, late nights, and overcoming differences have led to this moment.

Yunho stands next to me, adjusting his costume. He looks at me and smiles, a warm, genuine smile that sends a flutter through my stomach. "You ready?"

I nod, trying to steady my breath. "Ready as I'll ever be."

The romance scene is next up —the moment where our characters, after a series of misunderstandings and conflicts, finally confess their love. The lines have become second nature, but tonight, something feels different. There's an electricity in the air, a deeper connection that wasn’t there during rehearsals.

As Yunho and I move through our lines, the world around us fades away. It's just the two of us on stage, our characters’ emotions mirroring our own unspoken feelings. Yunho steps closer, his character's confession blending seamlessly with his own emotions.

"I've been thinking a lot about us," he says, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "And I realized something important. I can't imagine my life without you."

My heart races as I respond, my own feelings bubbling to the surface. "I feel the same way. You’ve challenged me, pushed me, and made me better. I’ve never felt this way before."

Yunho takes my hand, and the touch sends a spark through me. He looks into my eyes, and for a moment, it’s as if time stands still. "I love you," he says, I know it's just his character speaking. But it's feels a little too real.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I whisper, "I love you too."

The curtain falls, and the audience erupts into applause. We take our bows, the adrenaline still coursing through our veins. Backstage, the cast congratulates each other, but all I can think about is Yunho.

I find him in a quiet corner, away from the chaos. He looks up as I approach, a soft smile on his face "hey"

"Hey" I reply

"That was... incredible" He says, stepping closer.

I could smell his perfume, he was standing so close. It made My heart beat a lot faster. "It really was..."

He looks down and meet my eyes, we don't say anything but we both feel what's about to come. "Would you like to go somewhere private..?" He asks, his voice low.

I nod, "I would like that"

He grabs my hand and we walk towards the drama room. The place where it all began. The room is quiet and dark, the only source of light is the moonlight that is shining through the tall windows.

Yunho closes the door behind us, and the click of the lock seems to tighten the tension even more. We stand there for a moment, just looking at each other in silence.

He moves closer, his hand moving away a piece of my hair.

His lips meet mine, it starts of soft but quickly deepens. His arms wrap around me, pulling me closer until there is no more space left between us.

We pull away, stading there breathlessly. And yunhos eyes search mine. A silent question hanging in the air. I nod, giving him my answer without him having to ask it.

He leads me to the small couch in to corner of the room, we sink down on soft cushions, his hands move gently over the curves of my body. I lay one of my hands on his bicep, he tenses up under my touch and his muscles tighten.

Yunho reconnects the kiss again, this time it's with hunger and passion. He slowly slides his hand under my shirt, cupping one of my breasts. The warmth of his hand tingling on my skin.

I gasp when he pulls my shirt over my head and throws it on the floor. Exposing me to the cool air. He lowers his head and starts to kiss me all over my body "you're so beautiful" He murmurs against my skin.

I blush, my hands start to unbutton his shirt revealing his chest. He shrugs himself out of the fabric and I move my hands over his skin.

We're now left in our underwear, Yunho's hand moves down, his fingers teasing the edge of my panties before slipping under the material. When his finger enters me, a groan escapes my lips, muffled by our kiss.

He takes my reaction as encouragement, adding another finger and moving in and out in a steady movement. The sensation of his fingers moving in and out of me sends waves of pleasure through my body, and I arch my back, pressing closer to him.

"Yunho," I whisper, my voice breathy and filled with need.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes locking onto mine, dark with desire. "Does this feel good?" he asks, his voice husky.

"Yes," I moan, my hands gripping his shoulders for support.

Yunho's free hand trails up my side, his touch light and teasing. He kisses a path down my neck, his lips leaving a burning trail on my skin. As his fingers continue their rhythm, he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. The combined sensations are almost too much, and I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Yunho, I need you," I manage to say between ragged breaths.

He looks up at me, his expression a mix of tenderness and desire. "I need you too," he whispers.

With a final, lingering kiss, he pulls his fingers out and helps me out of the last of our clothing. We pause for a moment, just taking in the sight of each other, the intimacy of the moment deepening our connection.

Yunho gently lays me back on the couch, positioning himself above me. He takes a condom from his wallet, and with a quick, practiced motion, he rolls it on. His eyes meet mine, seeking one last confirmation.

I nod, my heart pounding with a mix of nerves and anticipation. "I'm ready."

He aligns himself with me, and as he slowly enters, we both gasp at the sensation. He moves with care, giving us both time to adjust. Once he’s fully inside, he pauses, our foreheads touching as we share a moment of stillness

Yunho starts to move, it's slow at first but once I wrapped my legs around his waist he couldn't hold back any longer. A groan escaped from his lips and he fastened his pace.

His hands roam over my body, caressing and teasing, driving me closer to the edge. I can feel the tension building, the knot tightening inside of me.

"Yunho I'm close" I whisper against his neck.

"Me too" He says, his voice strained with his pleasure.

The sound of our breathing is getting heavier and faster. With a final trust I feel a wave of pleasure wash over me, yunho throws his head back when he feels my juices spilling over his cock. That is enough to send him over the edge too. Our moans filling the silent room.

We collapse together, yunho holds me close. His breath warm against my skin as we come down from the high.

"I think I like you y/n" yunho said, pressing a soft kiss against my forehead.

"I like you too yunho" I whisper back.

We lie there for a little longer, wrapped in each other's arms. And that's when I realized that this moment was the beginning of something beautiful.