#and they love knowing you feel so safe with them!!!!

[etherealmelodys]

Kang Dae-Ho

NSFW ALPHABET

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Have yall seen how this man acted in the show? He’d definitely be a master at aftercare. Thanking you for allowing yourself to be at your most vulnerable with him, making sure you’re not in any pain, hot bath, whatever you wanted this man would do it for you asap. And trust when he’s done making sure you’re okay? Immediate cuddles and praise.

B - Body Part (Their favorite body part on you and themselves)

I feel like for Dae-Ho, his arms or hands would be his favorite body part. The arms he uses to cradle you in your most intimate and vulnerable moments, keeping you safe at all times. His hands are so much bigger than yours as well, always making you feel so so good. For his partner, I don’t think he’d have a specific body part he likes about you more than the others. Everything about you is perfect, so why should he have to choose one thing?

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He’s definitely a big fan of cumming inside you. He sees it as a way to be more intimate and closer to you. If you’re not a fan of that, he’s always down to cum on your stomach and thighs. The way the milky substance coats your abdomen and thighs really gets him going.

D - Dirty Secret ( Self-explanatory)

He’s really into you taking the more dominant role in the bed room. It’s not that he himself doesn’t like to, but the thought of you bossing him around and using him for your pleasure really gets him hard.

E - Experience (How experienced are they?)

I think he’s relatively experienced, not as experienced as someone like Thanos, but he knows what he has to do to get you to cum as much as he’d like.

F - Favorite Position (What positions do they like the most?)

He’s definitely the type to love any position that gives him a good view of all of you, and welcomes as much eye contact as he can get. The best for these would be missionary, rocking horse, or the happy scissor.

G - Goofy (How serious are they in the moment? Do they tease you?)

Dae-Ho would try to be as serious as possible during the act. He sees it as one of the most intimate acts you can have with another person, and he wouldn’t want you to think he doesn’t take it seriously, or you serious. Now if his partner is more playful during the act? He’s all for it.

H - Hair (What’s the hair situation down there)

This might be me being bias, but I think he has quite a bit of hair down there. Now it’s not a jungle mind you, but he just doesn’t feel the need to go bald when nobody’s complained about it before. For his partner he does not care at all. You could be as bald as a Siamese or as hairy as a rainforest, he still gon eat!

I - intimacy (How romantic are they in the moment?)

I feel like regardless of his mood, he’s always going to bring that romantic energy. Whispering praises in your ear while he slowly thrusts up into you, holding you so close to him to the point you can feel each other’s heart beats.

J - Jack Off (How often do they touch themselves?)

If he’s with somebody, he definitely jacks off more than he would if he was single. Just the thought of you gets him so hard and whiny, he never feels the need to jerk off to porn or anything like that when he has you.

K - Kinks (What are their kinks?)

He definitely doesn’t have any crazy kinks, he’s pretty vanilla. Praise, overstimulation, and hair pulling, while be it lightly, are his major ones, he’s not a fan of anything that could harm you in any aspect.

L - Location (Where do they prefer to have sex?)

He’s not into anywhere public, he’s too nervous about potentially getting caught, most importantly anyone seeing you that vulnerable. The bedroom is where he’s the most comfortable at, but anywhere ranging the shower or couch is fair game too.

M - Motivation (What turns them on?)

Just seeing you in general gets him going. Whether you just got off of work, sweaty and exhausted from the days events, or if you just woke up in the morning, bed head and all groggy. He thinks you look sexy no matter what state you’re in.

N - No (What are some things they’ll never do?)

He would never do anything to intentionally hurt or degrade you. Being raised with sisters really instilled his respect for women. Degrading, choking, anything similar to that is out of the question.

O - Oral (How do they feel about oral? Do they prefer giving or receiving?)

He definitely prefers giving to receiving. While he loves the sight of you on your knees gagging on his dick, what he loves even more is the sight of your arched back and fucked out face as he licks and sucks at your clit for hours. He’s definitely a service top, putting your pleasure above his own.

P - Pace (How fast/slow are they?)

He definitely prefers a slow and sensual pace compared to a faster one. He just loves the face you make, one of pure bliss feeling him slowly fill you up and pull himself back out again, the way you look at him as if he hung the stars in the sky, and the way you thank him for making you feel so good.

Q - Quickie (How do they feel about quickies?)

He’s not the biggest fan of quickies, he prefers to take his time with you and wants to make sure you feel good to the fullest potential. But if you’re desperate and beg him for it? Who is he to deny you.

R - Risk (How willing are they to experiment? Do they take any risks?)

Like I said before, he’s not a big fan of taking risks, or anything that might get you caught. He is however game to experiment in the bed room, but he’ll never initiate it himself, you’ll have to do that.

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they do? How long can they go for?)

Due to him being an ex-marine, I think his stamina would be extremely good, at least above average. Expect him to do at most 2-3 rounds before he starts to get tired. But before he does, it’s always his top priority to make you cum as many times as you can handle.

T - Toys (Do they have any toys? Are they willing to use any?)

I don’t think he has any of his own toys, but he’d always be down to experiment with the ones you have. He wouldn’t go out of his way to purchase any, especially for himself seeing that he has you already, so what’s the point?

U - Unfair (Do they tease you? How unfair are they in the bedroom?)

Just a tad bit, he loves you too much to do it excessively, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do it at all. Just when you guys are in a more playful mood does he really get into the role of teasing.

V - Volume (How loud are they?)

He’s fairly loud, he doesn’t do a lot of grunting, mainly whining and moaning. He’s always encouraging you to be as loud as you want as well, telling you the sounds you make are so pretty, telling you how it makes him wanna fuck you for even longer just to hear more of you.

W - Weird Fact (Self-explanatory)

He’d definitely want to try pegging, just once to see if he really is into it. But only with a partner he’s been with for quite a while.

X - X Ray (What’s it looking like in those pants.)

Dae-Ho is around 5’11-6’0 tall, and he’s quite beefy. He’s definitely above average, but he’s not huge. I’d say he’s around 6.5 inches, considering the average size in Korea is 5.3 inches. His tip is definitely a reddish pink color, about #EE9B9D, with a slight curve to the left. He had a few veins running along his shaft, noticeably a thicker one on the underside of it.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive? How often do they have sex?)

He doesn’t have a super high drive, it’s about average, about every other day. He’d prefer doing other intimate acts with you, such as cuddling, watching a movie together, or just being around you in general in a non-sexual context

Z - Zzz (How fast do they fall asleep after sex?)

He usually falls asleep after a little bit of pillow talk, and of course making sure you’re comfortable and content with his performance in bed. He’d only be able to rest after making sure you’re fulfilled

(Thank you guys sm for waiting on this, I lwk fell asleep due to being sick half way through but I pulled through! This will be my first fic on this app so enjoy😼)

[spokenforyou]

sylus x fem reader

NIGHT OF SECRECY

synopsis: sylus leaves in the morning for a few days, but you don’t want him to leave just yet. notes: haven’t posted because i was focusing on LADS, but this is heavily inspired by the new card, using lines as well. i pulled all 4 cards! so i might make one for each boy. warnings: unprotected, vulgarity, body worship, cream pie wc: 2.1k

[minors don’t interact… by choosing to interact with this content, you are consenting to view something that is not appropriate and nsfw despite warnings!]

Safety first right? You’re staying with Sylus in one of his safe houses, located somewhere in the N109 Zone. You’re out of reach from anyone, so that means he’s entirely yours until he leaves for a couple days.

You’re dreading it, how could you possibly survive without him? How could you satisfy your needs?

So you take it upon yourself to make this night memorable, to make him crave you.

After a long night out, Sylus carries you to his dimly lit room, you in one arm, your shoes in the other. When he nears the couch, he stops. His eyes gaze into yours and he smiles softly.

“If you don’t want to lie down, I can keep holding you until I leave.”

You respond quickly as he slowly sets you down on your feet with a smirk.

“What if I don’t want you to leave?” You smile back, a flirtatious one at that. Sylus catches on and nods.

“Then… We better make the most of our time before dawn.” He holds his smirk and you push him down on the couch. Your legs coming to rest on the outsides of his. His hand wraps around the back of your thigh and grazes your bottom, squeezing it.

You connect your lips to his in a hungry kiss, and he pulls away briefly.

“You really don’t want me to leave…” He smirks before pulling you back towards his lips. His hands move to your waist, pulling you against him.

Sylus deepens the kiss, his fingers gripping the sides of your waist, pulling you even closer to him. His tongue parts your lips, licking the inside of your mouth, tasting you. Sweet honey.

Your fingers slide across the open of his shirt, feeling his firm chest. He moans into your mouth, low in his chest, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

You can feel the heat and weight of him between your spread thighs when you rock into him gently. His pants tighten more and more as the kissing goes on.

He pushes his hips up to meet yours, a low growl leaving his throat. His hand grips your ass, kneading it and pulling you down against him. You softly moan and whisper, “Over there…”

He rises, effortlessly lifting you into his arms and walking towards the bed with ease. Lips never leaving yours…

“Anything you want, princess.” He places you down, climbing over your body. His lips crash back down onto yours and he grinds against you once more. The open area allows him freedom, he takes advantage of it.

His lips drag down towards your neck, biting it and sucking, leaving marks to be seen for days.

“You can be even greedier, kitten…” He whispers before coming back up to face level.

“Don't look…” Sylus places a hand over your eyes and kisses you once more, his hand attempting to hide his desperate need for you. God, how he loves your lips. Soft and felt like home. They were so inviting, and only he could taste them.

His hands roam all over your body, and he slowly pulls away. He slides his shirt off before working on removing your layers.

Once bare, his mouth works its way down your neck, to your shoulder, across your collarbone. His warm tongue travels over the top of your breast, teasing biting your nipple before trailing down the underside.

He puts his focus on your breasts for a bit, swirling his tongue, biting, and kitten licking. Knowing how to please you he smirks at the sounds you make.

“Fuck…” You let out the quietest moan. You can feel the heat and weight of him between your spread thighs, still fully clothed. He pulls away to look at you, his eyes dark and full of hunger but cautious.

“You okay, baby? We can stop. You know I won’t mind.” His eyes lock on yours as your chest heaves.

“I’m okay Sylus.” You smile as you finally catch your breath.

“Yeah, but… Do you want this?” Sylus runs his hands along your legs, feeling the smooth skin beneath them. Body of a goddess.

“I need to hear you say it, sweetie.” He kisses where his fingers run.

“I want it Sy… I-I want you.” You correct yourself and he nods before reaching for your skirt.

Sylus latches onto it and pulls it down, along with your underwear. The damp fabric is thrown behind him and he drools at the sight of you. So needy and hungry for him, like always.

“Looks like you don’t even need foreplay baby…” He chuckles and runs a finger along your heat, wetness gathering on his finger. His pink lips press a quick kiss to your clit.

You giggle quietly and roll your eyes. “Never need it with you.”

Sylus agrees with you wholeheartedly. You have always been excited by Sylus. Whether it be just being near him or the lightest touch of his pinky finger.

He pulls away and undoes his belt, his hands moving quickly to pull down his pants and boxers, eager to satisfy his and your need.

His cock springs out, standing tall and pulsing. He gives it a couple of strokes before approaching you once more.

“On your stomach, baby.” His eyes drink you in as he speaks and you quietly do as told.

Sylus moves up behind you, straddling your body with his legs. He grabs your hips and slides you towards him. The weight and heat of his body pressing against you, his hands on either side of your head as he kisses his way down your spine.

His hands run along your skin, grabbing your ass in particular before he pulls away. He moves to get up off the bed, his footsteps soft over the carpet as he makes his way to the other side of the room.

You hear a drawer open, rummaging through some things before it closes again, his footsteps padding across the room to the bed.

He grabbed a bottle of lube, squirting the tiniest bit on his length, to ease you. He knew how big he was, and how much the stretch is, he never wanted to hurt you.

“Spread your legs for me, love. Just a little wider for me, mmkay?” Sylus says in the softest yet dominating voice as he comes up behind you, spreading the lubricant.

He moves in between them and grips your hips, pulling you up so you’re resting on your hands and knees. He leans down into you, the hard line of his length against your back.

“You feel that?” He moans against your neck as he places open-mouthed kisses there, and his hands wander over your body again.

“Please…” you whisper and he growls, immediately wrapping a hand around himself to press the tip to your aching entrance.

“Breathe, okay?” Sylus holds onto your hip with one hand, his other hand comes up to the back of your neck in a light grip.

Holding you in place and keeping your head pulled back, he slowly begins pushing inside. A low moan escapes both of your mouths.

The right squeeze of your walls almost causes him to burst right then and there, but luckily he can control his body.

“You gotta relax for me.” He groans, stilling inside of you until you loosen.

“I… I’m trying…” you whine and nearly collapse on the bed.

He leans down and kisses you between your shoulders. “I know. You’re doing so well. Just bear down a little for me, love. Push back into me… Just like that. That a girl.”

Your hips press against his, allowing you to relax against him. He lets out a hiss once he finally bottoms out and you moan. Taking that as a sign he moves a bit.

Sylus slowly pulls out almost to the tip before pushing back in. His hands gripping your hips again, lips leaving openmouthed kisses along your neck and shoulders, biting gently at the skin.

You can feel his muscles tense behind you, his whole body shaking with the effort of trying to hold back. His pace quickens, hand holding the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Tell me how you want it. Nice and gentle or..” He slides back in deeper, a moan leaving his chest as he bites your ear. “Hard and fast.” He moans into your skin.

“You want it rougher? Say the words for me and I’ll give it to you.” His lips and teeth find your neck, leaving behind little love bites as he works his way to your ear.

His voice was a low, almost whisper, “Just say it and I’ll give it to you, princess.”

You nearly let out a bratty whine at his words. “I want you to give it to me good, Sy… Just let go.”

You barely recognize your voice, breathy and full of desire, a desperate, needy sound you didn’t even know you could make.

At your words, something seems to snap inside him. Sylus’ body suddenly tenses up behind you and you can feel his grip on you tighten, his breathing changing to low, ragged almost growls, his breathing growing labored.

It’s like he was just waiting for you to say the actual words. He pulls back and then thrusts forward, setting a hard and fast pace from the start.

The sudden change in pace has you reeling. You can barely breathe as he drives into you from behind, the new angle allowing him to reach deeper than you could have ever imagined.

Moans and groans fill the room as you guys enjoy each other and then he hits that spot inside you.

Sylus’ hand tightens in your hair, his body pressed firmly against you as he mutters out a string of words.

“There you go, there’s my good girl, taking all of me like you know you should.” His voice was laced with honey and desire.

You were too cock drunk to even respond. The only thing on your mind was him. He leans down, his voice dark and rough with desire.

“That feel good? Say it. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head. Let me hear you.” He hits that spot again, a low growl leaving his lips and you nearly give out. Stars cloud your vision as you near release.

“Feels so good, Sy, so so good.” You finally manage words and he pushes you down completely.

You lay flat as he plunges into you at this new angle, his legs pushing yours together. The two of you feel more, and a tighter feel.

“Sy… I’m so close.” You moan into the mattress and he groans. He can tell. It’s like he can hear it in your voice. He can hear your breaths come out faster and rougher, how you’re gripping the sheets, your legs tensing up…

“Yeah, you’re close for me? You gonna cum for me, beautiful?” Sylus picks up speed to get himself closer.

You clench around him and let out a cry of his name. He follows suit with a loud moan, thrusting through your climaxes. His tip nearly bursts through your cervix as he shoots his warm essence inside your womb.

Painting your walls, and filling your stomach, he groans while he pulses. You milked him, and it was always something you were good at.

“Fuck…” You let out a subtle whisper as you pant, and you hear his chuckle behind you.

“Mmm, got that right. You drained me, kitten.” He kisses your back before pulling out.

You wince at the loss of contact, and he flips you onto your back. Sylus moves to grab a tissue from a box near the bed, quickly cleaning in between your legs. He smirks.

“Such a mess kitten...” He pulls back up, throws away the tissue, and lays down.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, his soft lips trailing over your neck and jaw and down to your shoulder.

Sylus holds you close while his breathing evens out. His hand gently comes to rest on your stomach, massaging the skin there.

His thumb rubs small circles, lips still finding that same spot on your neck, still leaving tiny kisses there.

“You feeling alright, love?” His words break you out of a daze.

“Mmm, yeah I’m good Sylus.” You chuckle and he smirks against your neck. He softly kisses your neck and shoulder and gently presses himself up against you harder.

“Good. I wanted to check.”

His hand slowly moves down your stomach, coming to rest on your mound. “You sure you’re good? Not too sore? Not too tired?”

“I’m sure.” You whisper back and let your eyes rest. He moves closer and surrounds every part of you.

Sylus whispers low in your ear, his voice gentle.

“If you’re sure… then I wanna try something. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. Just let me know.”

He gently grabs the bottom of your thigh, pulling it back, bending it at the knee, and pulling it back over his thigh.

He presses himself up against you, the weight of him resting between your thighs, his lips finding your neck again as he gently presses small kisses along your skin, and he slowly grinds forward, just a little.

You gasp at the slight friction, and he smiles.

“Feel good, baby? You like that?”

“Mmm…” You bite your lip, holding back a moan, and he catches on. His swollen head slips and slides between your folds as he bites down on your skin.

Slowly, Sylus’ tongue traces over his bite to soothe and ease the sting, his fingers trailing down your side to your hips. His breathing changes, becoming heavier when he grinds against you a little harder, a quiet moan leaving his chest.

Sylus pants, feeling a new urge of need course through his body.

“You know, there are a lot of things I wanna do to you, a lot of places I want my mouth on… Let’s go for round two kitten.”

[namism]

their love language/s | headcanons

➳ categories: canonverse, gender neutral reader

➳ summary: Looking into everyone's top love language/s with Sanji, Nami, Law, Zoro, Kid, Koby, & Sabo.

➳ notes: thank you for 200 followers!! i don't write headcanons, but here's a special treat for everyone who's ever read, liked, and supported my fics! 🧡

Sanji: Words of Affirmation

Above everything, Sanji is a smooth talker.

He's incredibly good at romancing you through his words that it doesn't take long for you to completely fall head over heels for him.

Canonically, he calls people with different pet names. "Mellorine" is arguably the most creative. If he were with you (or were trying to flirt with you), he would definitely create a personal nickname that only he would call you.

That said, there is no defeating his terms of endearment. All of them are truly endearing.

Also, best believe that he's amazing at communication.

You know how couples need therapy because their communication sucks? Yeah, that's not happening in a relationship with Sanji.

If this man can flirt through words, then he can talk things out with you.

Overall, Sanji is a very romantic person, but he would work out the most with someone whose primary love language is words of affirmation.

Acts of service as second? Sure. Quality time as third? Sure, but overall, words of affirmation takes the cake.

His sweet talking is just something an ordinary person can't resist.

Nami: Quality time/Gift giving

Is this a hot take? Maybe, but Nami is definitely sweet to whoever she ends up falling for.

She values hanging out with her friends and the people she cares about, so it wouldn't be any different if it were with you, the person she's into. Something about spending time alone together is intimate for her.

On another note, Nami would totally be into giving gifts.

Being the treasurer of the ship apart from the navigator, everyone is aware that she's strict with where the Straw Hats' money goes. It's safe to say that this would be the case for her personal savings as well, even though she likes to treat herself every so often.

But being a shopaholic just means that she loves buying things not only for herself but also for you.

Nami would totally buy you gifts if she finds anything that reminds her of you, and you can imagine it playing out sweetly.

Who knew the frugal Nami would willingly spend money on someone she likes? It makes you feel incredibly special because she doesn't casually do that for other people.

Law: Quality time/Acts of service

If you were a member of Law's crew, he would definitely appreciate the one-on-one appointments with you whenever you needed a checkup or anything of the sort.

Call it unethical, but let's be serious—he's a pirate who happens to be a doctor (or is it the reverse?), his epithet is quite literally "Surgeon of Death," and above all else, he isn't doing anything malicious when you come to him.

Instead, it's all sweet and innocent. If Law were to like you, he initially wouldn't know how to act around you, so he's grateful for the quiet moments that you share together alone, no matter the circumstance.

He would enjoy your company and would totally think that being extra cautious and careful toward your health is a good way of subtly letting you know that he cares for you.

He would be the type to do things for you without being asked. Usually it would be medical related, but once he gets more comfortable about showing his feelings, best believe it would be more than just that.

Zoro: Acts of service

Zoro is the type to save people, so he would keep an eye on you every time danger arises.

While he would save any innocent person or civilian in danger, his decision to rescue you whenever you need rescuing comes from a more personal reason rather than simply playing a hero.

Newsflash: it's because he likes you.

He isn't the type to show his interest toward someone through other means anyway, so his best bet is showing it all through actions that you never asked for to begin with.

His feelings would become more obvious the more he does things for you without question, which he would be pleased by because it would mean that you're picking up on his signs.

He would work best with someone whose love language is servitude, especially if you're the type to appreciate the little things that people do out of genuine concern.

Kid: Physical touch/Words of affirmation

When it comes to Kid, he's heavy on physical touch if you already have an established relationship.

Of course, he wouldn't do anything if you guys aren't official yet—even though he's bolder at flirting than the average One Piece man, he wouldn't want to come off as creepy.

Hence, physical touch is the way to go once you're together. He would be the clingy type in his own unique fashion.

If you aren't together yet, he would show his love through words of affirmation.

However, it isn't anything like Sanji's sweet talking in a way that is straight out of a romance film. Kid has his own way of doing things, so he would affirm you through compliments that often have one or two cuss words in them, which end up sounding mean but isn't actually mean.

For example: "Great job, brat. You did a shitty job last time, so it's nice to see you outdoing yourself."

Kid is just that guy, but he can also be sweet if the moment calls for it

If you're into those kinds of things, then dating him would be no problem.

Koby: Acts of service

Koby wasn't dubbed "Koby the Hero" for nothing. This man is deemed a hero even outside of work because of what he does for you.

Koby would be the shy type in a relationship since he stutters as a habit, so he would comfortably express it through actions.

Similar to Zoro, if you need rescuing, then he will be there. He would do things for you out of kindness because he likes you.

His love for you would be innocent and sweet.

On that note, Koby would be the type to do the smallest things for you, so if you're the kind of person who would be driven insane by the smallest acts of kindness, then Koby's your guy.

He would hold the door for you, get a glass of water for you if you're thirsty, check up on you randomly, and ask you to continue speaking if you accidentally happen to talk over each other.

Koby does his best to express his feelings, so he hopes his actions are good enough.

Sabo: Acts of service

In a perfect world, Sabo would make an amazing Prince.

It would seem ironic given how he canonically hated the nobility (including his family) because of the way they looked down on the less fortunate, but if Sabo never left nobility, he would be a Disney Prince.

Sabo does things in service, so it would be no different for him to initiate acts of service toward you.

He would be the type to do things without expecting anything in return.

Similar to how he would drop everything should Luffy or Ace be in danger, he would immediately go out of his way to save you or tend to your needs if the situation calls for it.

It's his way of expressing that he cares for you, and he sure as hell would make sure that you know he's interested.

[figthoughts]

thinking about dean winchester coming home to gf!reader after a hunt ໑ৎ⋆˚࿔

— pure fluff, non-sexual nudity, est. relationship

༢ུ࿓

it didn’t take much for dean to relax after a hunt anymore, not since you had entered his life. your big smiles and sparkling eyes, which were filled with pure unadulterated love, had changed him — softened him.

whether you’d be waiting for him at a motel or in the bunker, it was always the same — a quick exchange of greetings and a recap of the hunt. you’d get a more detailed one later, but for now, it was quick and brief; dean needed to decompress.

you huddle into the bathroom together, entangled in each other’s arms, sharing slow tender kisses that help heal his hardened soul. you help dean peel his clothes off, dropping them to the floor in a pile, and start running the bath, your lips and bodies finding each other’s again like clockwork.

it’s become such a tradition that dean already knows if he’s particularly filthy from a hunt, he needs to rinse off first. he slips into the shower and washes off whatever blood or dirt litters his skin, his eyes locked on you as you undress and get the bath ready, putting in sweet body wash and epsom salt to soothe his muscles.

you splash your hand around in the water as he showers, letting it get all bubbly and cozy for the both of you. you share soft smiles with one another, glad that you’re back together again — safe.

when dean deems himself clean enough, he hops out of the shower and wraps his arms around you from behind, unable to help himself from touching you.

you protest at the feeling of his wet skin pressed against yours with a chuckle, “dean, c’mon! s’cold!”

“i can’t help it,” he murmurs and kisses along your neck, “missed you, baby. missed you so damn much.”

it never mattered how long it’d been since he’d seen you last—whether it had been a few hours or a few days—he had missed you. every damn fibre of his heart and soul had missed you.

you smile and giggle softly at the feeling of his plump lips pressing against your skin and his firm arms caging you against him, “i missed you too,” you confess in return.

he spins you around and looks down into your eyes, his gaze warm and sincere, bringing a gentle hand to your cheek, “i love you, you know?”

your heart melts at his declaration and the way his face softens. moments of vulnerability with dean were always rare—though he was getting better—but they always made your heart clench in your chest and your lips stick out in a little pout.

“i know. i love you too, winchester,” you reply, searching his peridot green eyes.

dean smiles, his face lighting up at your words as he pats your cheek fondly in response, a thousand unspoken words passing between the two of you in silent understanding.

you wait for the bathtub to fill up, enjoying the sweet aroma of the soap filling up the room. the steam fogs up the mirror and windows — not that you mind. it’s almost as if it helps create an even more intimate space for the two of you; your own private oasis away from everyone, away from all the evil in the world, a place where it’s just you and dean.

your lips are locked on one another’s again, and your hands linger over every inch of each other’s bodies, in a way that’s so reverent and tender, like this is the last moment you’ll ever have with each other.

the tub almost always overflows while you two are busy worshipping each other. you turn around with an “oh, no!” and turn the water off while dean chuckles behind you.

“got it just in time again, huh?” he breathes out softly, his voice low, not wanting to disturb the easiness and tranquility of the moment you’ve built together.

you turn back and smile at him, “yeah, just in time,” you echo back quietly, meeting his warm gaze, full of devotion and love.

dean steps forward, his hand coming to rest on your lower back as he tentatively dips a foot into the water, testing how warm it is. the smile on his face widens as he steps fully in, “perfect.”

he settles down into the tub, the soothing warmth of the water alleviating any discomfort or lingering pain from the hunt. it’s always a deep sigh of relief that follows as he relaxes, shutting his eyes while his head falls back against the tiles for a moment.

dean eventually looks up at you with a sweet toothy smile that mirrors yours, missing the feeling of your skin against his. he reaches his hand out, “c’mon, baby. the water’s gonna get cold.”

“yeah, keep your pants on. i’m coming,” you breathe out through a chuckle and take his hand, stepping into the tub, the water enveloping your body like a warm hug. dean’s quick to pull you back against his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

dean lets out another sigh, one that sounds like it’s been living in his lungs for too long. his warm breath brushes past your ear, and you know at that very moment — you’re together. you’re safe. and not a thing in the world could ruin this perfect moment between the two of you.

A/N: this has lived in my drafts for a while and i don’t like it but i’m posting it anyways LOL !! my soul actually aches for sweet bf dean ugh !! in my head we are married !!!

feedback and reblogs are welcome ‘n appreciated! thank uuu!

✩ taglist: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4jackles @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @legalmente-loca @theoneandonlystonedspiderman420 @manicjk @aileenunfiltered @minettacreekk @jackleslvr @winchester-whiskey @emeraldcrs @freyabear @floralscented @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity @kimxwinchester @bleuatlas @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @deansbeer @artemys-ackles @bluemerakis @deanswidow @psychicnatural @ghostlyaccurate @k-slla

↑ comment to be added!

[authorbriannarae13]

Mind of Mine // i just want to watch you take it off - joel miller

Joel Miller x female! reader

read on AO3 here.

summary; "You got 'nother one, sugar?"

Joel knows exactly how to get you wetter than ever. or this is the work you get when the author listens to the song 'TiO' off of the album 'Mind Of Mine' on repeat. for five hours.

warnings; smut (MDNI); unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); mostly soft!joel; actually all soft!joel, so much praise

word count; 1.3k (it's my first joel fic, ok?)

-

You’re swaying to the music while Joel’s behind you, cooking as always.

He usually ignores you – not because you’re necessarily a distraction – but instead, because giving you the attention you crave doesn’t end well. For either of you. Last time he gave you attention, your wrists were secured to the headboard as he fucked your brains out, giving you too many orgasms to count and forgetting about the food.

Oops.

You live to be a tease, though.

It excites you too much to stop.

Mainly because it lets him plan how he’s going to punish you. Or praise you.

Whichever he’s in the mood for.

Based on his current mood – which is subject to change – he’s most definitely going to praise you.

And after the day you’ve had, it’s definitely what you need. Working for a publishing house can be stressful. And today was one of those days.

Good thing Joel loves to make you feel light – weightless, actually.

Not to mention how safe you feel. And when you feel safe, the softer side comes out.

Like all relationships, you just need to feel safe to show it.

“Darlin’,” his rough, Southern drawl interrupts your music, and you turn it off.

“Yes?” you ask, teasingly. Trying to rile him up.

But you never succeed. He knows you too well for that.

Turning away and holding a hand out, he murmurs a simple, “C’mere.”

So, you take it, letting him drag you and lift you up – right into his arms. Bridal style, of course.

You groan as your thighs clench, trying to hide your soaked cunt.

“Poor baby,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead.

“Fuck off,” you mutter while he carries you to the bedroom. Since he insists, he needs his fill of you before he can think about anything else – or dessert, as he likes to call it.

He kicks the door open and lays you down, playing with the hem of your skirt.

Your hips buck into his touch. He’s teasing you – you realize.

“Joel,” you moan as he hooks his fingers into your waistband, pulling your skirt down, and revealing the soaked black lace covering your cunt.

He pulls the lace aside, running his fingers against your swollen pussy, and he groans deep in his throat. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, pretty girl.”

Your brain goes blank as his index and middle finger both sink inside you, curling towards your g-spot.

“Fuck, sir.”

“N’ne of that sir shit tonight, baby.” He grabs your ankles, placing them on his shoulders as he sinks to his knees and licks a stripe up to your swollen - and aching - clit.

Your head falls back as your eyes roll into the back out your head. “Fuckk.”

You’re so close. If he would just curl his fingers against your g-spot just one more time, you’d be there.

He lets out a gruff chuckle that reverberates though your body as his other hand finds you shirt, pushing it up to find your nipple, pinching it.

That sends you over the edge. “Fuck, Joel,” you moan as the orgasm hits, crashing you into waves with each one more intense than the one before it.

His tongue doesn’t stop lapping at your clit even as you try to buck him off. “I can’t. I can’t- “

He cuts you off before you can repeat it again, “You can and will give me ‘nother one, sweetheart.”

“Fuck,” you groan as he pulls his fingers out, thrusting them back in while your back arches.

In. Out. In. Out. Your fingers curl into the sheets.

His fingers thrust faster as your thighs start to wrap around his head, trying to keep him there.

The second orgasm is faster than the first. You let out a silent scream as the waves rush into you for the second time in less than ten minutes.

“Good – fuck – good fuckin’ girl,” he groans, his tongue still swirling around your clit as the waves subside.

The strength from earlier leaves you almost immediately, making your legs fall. You’re boneless, but you also know he fucks you regardless of just how boneless you feel.

“You got ‘nother one for me, sugar?”

He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and brings them up to your mouth, “Taste yourself.”

You happily oblige, opening your mouth to take his fingers and tasting your cum mixed with his skin in a fucked up symphony.

His groan reverberates off the walls as you suck on his fingers – the same way you always have his cock. That’s when he starts to pull your panties down your legs, giving him better access.

Since that’s what this is all about, of course. And better access usually means better orgasms.

Speak of the devil – that shit must hurt. He looks painfully hard.

He interrupts your staring. “You like what you see?”

You slowly start to nod, but he slowly pulls his hand away, fingers leaving with a pop.

He leans down towards you, as you lean up and play with the hem of his shirt before you decide to pull it off.

Next is his belt as you hurry and rip it off, trying to get to his jeans.

“Woah,” he lets out a low chuckle, “’u’re a feisty one tonight, aren’t ya, beautiful?”

“No,” you whine as he starts to stop your frantic hands. “Just need you,”

“Where ya need me?”

“You know where,” you sass with everything you can muster.

“Need to hear ya say it, baby.”

“Fuck,” you moan as his jeans lightly graze your cunt. “Need you in me – fuck – now.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, pulling his jeans and boxers down – as fast as he can. “’U’re g’nna be the death of me, pretty girl.”

“I – fuck –“ His thrust cuts you off as he bottoms out. “I live to please.”

“So I can tell,” is the hiss you get back while he waits for you to adjust.

“Move already,” you whine before you can stop yourself. “Break me for all I – fuck –care.”

He slowly finds the pace you’re accustomed to – hard and fast.

“Look at ‘cha. You’re takin’ me so well.”

Your cunt clenches around him as he continues. “Aw, does my good girl need to be reminded of how good she feels?”

“You-“ you start, “you keep doing that and I’ll finish faster than I ever have.”

“Good girl,” he purrs. “Is that a promise?”

“B-better be,” you stutter as his thumb finds your clit. Again.

“Fuck.” Your head falls back again. Everything is sensitive.

You’re not even expecting the orgasm when it washes over you.

“Good – fuck. You’re such a good girl f’r me, sugar,” he praises, not taking his thumb away.

“Fuck.” It’s somewhere between a moan and groan. “Fuck, everything’s so sensitive.” Now that’s definitely a groan.

He ignores you, continuing his praise. “Fuck. Good girl. God, Good fuckin’ girl.”

You softly whine as he slowly speeds his pace up, trying to find his own orgasm.

After more futile moans, whimpers, and whatever else he can pull out of you.

“Fuck, you’re g’nna make me cum so fuckin’ fast, pretty girl. Goddamn-“ And that’s when you feel his orgasm crash into him – violent and unforgiving.

The orgasm lasts so long that neither one of you can keep up with how much time has passed. It isn’t until he flips you two over, so you’re on top and he’s not crushing you, that you know it’s done.

“Fuck,” you softly laugh, pressing your ear to his chest and listening to his heartbeat as he holds you tightly. You kiss his chest while he hums.

“Poor baby,” he murmurs kissing your forehead, “u’re all fucked out, aren’t ya?”

“Maybe,” you tease while he gives you a look.

“Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.”

Eventually, after Joel made sure you were okay in every aspect, you two make your way back into the kitchen, attempting to get your appetite back after all that.

You’re standing behind him with your head laying on his back when you murmur, “I love you forever and always, baby.”

You can hear the soft smile in his voice when he says, “I love you more than anything else, darlin’.”

[strawberryfloofs]

tw: mentions of neglect/abuse

carer with a traumatized age regressor they know they're helping to heal everytime they slip.

never received toys/were given very few toys as a kid? bubbas spoiling you in all the toys you want! if their kiddo is a little more shy and feeling guilty, they'll notice their little one eyeing a toy. "do you want it puppy? no need to feel bad, i just wanna give you everything you deserve"

went without food in public? carer will always order something for you, you never have to watch them eat while you have nothing. "oh honey I would never~ not only is that mean, but you gotta grow big and strong like me!"

went without food/snacks in private? your caregiver always makes sure they stock up on your favorite snacks and brands- no matter how specific they are. there's no shame in only eating a certain brand or flavor of chips. there's always groceries in the house and they're happy to cook for you, wanting to make sure you're safe AND fed. "are you hungy? I can get my sweetheart their favorite snack until the pastas done?"

had bad physical treatment? they would NEVER even THINK about laying a hand on you. if you misbehave or act up, they understand you're just in littlespace. like real kids, emotions can be hard and some moments arent good. sometimes kids like to test boundaries, there's nothing wrong with that. they won't let it slide and will issue lines, time outs, and stuff like early bedtime or shorter playtime- but nothing physical or mentally damaging. "angel I know you're all upset and shouting at bubba, but I need you to sit in the chair for 5 minutes. we don't yell."

missed out on a lot of childhood experiences? that's okay! your cg is soooo happy to integrate anything into their routine. whether it's storytime, going to the park, holiday celebrations, they're happy to accomodate! "oh you wanna have a bubba baby book read before your nap? of course little one!"

touch starved and wanting a lot of physical affection? they'll love on you SO much to try and make up for it! cuddles, pats, carries, boops, you got it! "awww does munchkin need a hug? cmere"

weren't treated the best emotionally? they understand how it can impact you. your carer always reminds you that you're not a burden, it wasn't your fault, and they truly do love you. they're not lying to you, they don't hate you, there's no maliciousness or ulterior motives- just pure love and care. "I know it was a lot, and I'm sorry you had to live through that angel- but I'm glad you're with me now. As long as I'm here, and as long as you'll let me- I won't let anyone treat you like that again. I pinky promise, my little love. Always, and forever."

Icl, this was very self indulgent to me- but I hope anyone who can sadly relate feels atleast a little bit of comfort and wholesomeness from this. I believe you. You're strong.

[mysaldate]

Doesn't that sort of make sense though? Why would the characters make a big deal out of it if it's normal for them? It's kind of an issue I have with a lot of fantasy series, the characters are all from this world where magic exists but they have to act surprised and clueless about it for the audience's sake? That has always felt cheap and kinda lazy to me. Yes, act like it's normal because it is normal for you. Don't make a big deal out of it and let us figure it out. Yes, you run a risk of a lot of fandom glossing over it but imo, it's much better than breaking character just to coddle your audience.

On your age point... no, that doesn't really work. The game is originally a joseimuke, meaning for working-class women. Just because Aniplex and Disney US decided to dumb everything down for the English release doesn't mean teenagers are suddenly the intended audience. The characters are those ages because that's a popular trope and that's it, they might be 30 or 50 and they wouldn't change because the age label on fictional characters is arbitrary as they are not real. Yes, Disney JP still keeps certain things censored/safe but far less than whatever is going on in the EN release. In a similar vein, the whole "respect women juice" thing was added in the EN release while in JP, it was left at the fact that women are intimidating and more physically imposing which led to Leona and Ruggie trying to appease them even outside of their own culture (we wouldn't exactly call that respect, now would we? We don't say women irl respect men when they go out of their way to appease them because they are physically stronger).

This isn't about whether or not Jack has a knot lol. This is about how many features the characters do have that the fandom just explains away or even straight-up ignores. And it gets worse when it comes to cultures. The hyenas are mistreated in Sunset Savannah because they have a bad reputation (yes, it is a part of what happened with Scar but also for biological reasons) which then leads to them having to scavenge for food and use trickery which furthers the stereotypes even more. Leona's palace guards are all women because lionesses are usually the ones guarding a pride. Leona does roar or growl in the story on multiple occasions (and a roar is even one of his battle lines iirc).

Malleus was literally born from an egg, that's a pretty big thing imo, people even like this, they just don't like thinking about what that might mean for Meleanor. Also, dragon fae only being able to conceive with their true love? That's a pretty huge difference. The fae in general communicating by hisses and chittering noises? Yes, it's a language for them but at the same time, that's a pretty non-human thing to do. And despite Lilia adopting Silver, he never taught him the language so there's a question of whether full-blooded humans can even learn it.

I agree with you that this is a prevalent problem in media, I just don't think twst is as devoid of it as you seem to suggest. Yes, fandom is always there to explore things more and push them to their logical limits and conclusions but, again, I think twst gives us a ton to build off of. It makes sense to me that they don't make a big deal of it, much like they just off-handedly mention other parts of their world that are normal to them but alien to us, simply because it's no big deal or it is common knowledge for them ("By the Seven!" is an easy one. Nobody feels the need to explain it but we all know why that is, another example would include Mozus' off-hand mention of the discrimination against beastmen in the past, and obvsl there are more all over the place).

Anyway, this got long, sorry. I like discussing this sort of thing even if we don't come to an agreement. Personally, I like the way twst does it but I do get why people might want more obvious explanations and followups on things in way that are harder to disregard.

I need. Twisted Beastmen and the like. To be more animalistic. Not necessarily like, physically, I don't meant that in the furry sense. I mean that in the 'they're part animal and it'd not just for show' sense.

I want beastmen with claw like nails. Where the cat-like ones tend to walk on their toes when not wearing shoes because it feels right. Where their eyes and pupils reflect the animals that they're partly of. With fangs and teeth appropriate for their species.

Ruggie making laughing noises at the active prospect of food. Whooping when in a fight and needing backup. Lowing when excited for a fight.

Leona roaring to get the whole dorm's attention. Chuffing in greeting at people he considers part of his pride. (He'll sometimes grunt at Cheka like a mother would to her cubs but will deny it.)

Jack barking at danger to warn others and howling to try and figure out where his pack is (he forgets they can't howl back, but Ruggie will sometimes low at him and Yuu definitely tries to howl back.)

I want to see Azul with the tips of his limbs in human form retain some of his octopus natural ability to camouflage. I want to see his hands always moving, grabbing something, holding something. Azul who might not have bones in human form with how flexible he is??

The tweels who aren't very active naturally during the day but get really hyperactive at night. Who bare their teeth at people when excited.

Che'nya who lounges in the sun on lazy days. Who's great at stretching and popping everywhere in his body if he needs to, to a concerning degree.

GIMME FEY WHO DONT ACT HUMAN

Malleus who snorts smoke when he's angry. Malleus who wear gloves because he got claws. Malleus who has a tail and wings outside of his dragon form sometimes.

Lilia who gets just a bit too excited at the prospect of a fight and spilling blood. Who can recognize a person by the smell of their blood. Who makes inhuman noises when too excited and gives off a very eldritch horror kind of vibe if he lets loose.

Sebek who can be found eating rocks sometimes. Who finds quiet in thunder and lightning. Who can move so smoothly and silently you don't know he's there until he opens his maw. Who has a lot of really sharp teeth for someone with a human mouth.

Just- gimme some animal, like, REALISM. PLEASE.

[pianocat939]

Yandere Player 333 (Myung-Gi) Headcanons

This gif screams mansplaining lmao

Lowkey he's kinda super stupid when he was talking with Jun-Hee but never mind that.

Tw: Manipulation. Mostly it. Just manipulation.

This guy definitely gives the type who acts they're rational and always thinks they're right regardless of what the situation is. I think this was super apparent all throughout the season.

Before the game even starts, he doesn't really notice any of the players. All he thinks about is paying off the debt (but then Thanos and Minggyu start bothering him of course).

It was actually the during the consent forms did he notice you first. You were right in front of him. He couldn't help but note you look kind of interesting. He doesn't try talking to you like Thanos would though.

He notices you more during Red Light, Green Light. Especially when Player 196 first gets killed. For some reason, he feels a little protective over you. Maybe because he notices your terrified expression and how you look like you're about to cry.

He doesn't know you, but he quickly shoves you behind him. He doesn't interact you for the rest of the game. Just on his way to win. He occasionally puts his arm behind him to make sure you stop.

He doesn't really do anything during voting time. He won't try to influence your decision unlike Thanos. But he does take note of whatever decision you try to make.

Skipping to the 2nd game, he teams up with you in order to ensure your safety. He’s noticed much more how vulnerable you are. It’s pitiful. But he knows why. So he teams up with you.

“Hey, you don’t have a team yet right? Join mine. You’ll be safer.”

By the 2nd voting, if you aren’t picking O, then he’ll gently coax you. He insists on all sorts of evidence and stuff. Essentially trying to sound smart.

“Do you want to die? Do you want to disappear off the earth with only debt to your name? Then hit X. Around XX% of people die with debt every year.”

The 2nd meal time, he talks to you more. He subtly pats your shoulder or head if you’re freaking out. Or if you’re hidden enough he’ll tug you closer. Warning you to not do anything stupid. That if you want to survive, you need to stick with him.

“That Thanos bastard won’t hesitate to let you die.”

By the 3rd game, he’s tugging you along everywhere. He doesn’t really care who or what. As long as you survive (and himself of course). He becomes much more aggressive about keeping you safe.

“Don’t follow them. They’re gonna push you out!”

All in all, he just hides you or just mostly manipulates you into thinking he’s the rational, smart one. That you need to stick with him because he’s reliable.

————————————���————————————

Ah we love a good manipulative man. Anyway, he’s like the opposite of Thanos, which makes their interactions so much funnier.

I’m still debating whether I do Thanos part 3 first or Myunggi vs Thanos first. We’ll see. Actually, if I do the Myunggi vs Thanos, I’ll probably do 3 parts. Basically the main story and then an ending for Myunggi and Thanos (I want to add some juice).

- Celina

[uconnwbbcrashout]

last winter break

chapter iii: “i think i’m gonna kiss you”

paige x azzi

word count: 6.5k

content: swearing, some fluffy banter, and a healthy dose of angst

chapter list: here

author’s notes: after a long wait, it’s finally here!! i wanna apologize for the 100th time for how long this took me to write. as you can tell by the word count compared to chapters i & ii, this one kinda got out of hand. but i'm happy w/ how it turned out and i hope it's worth the wait!! :) enjoy!

Winter 2022-2023

AZ: hey, i saw the news

AZ: about your acl i mean

AZ: i hope you’re doing okay p

p (IGNORE): thanks. good as i can be yk

p (IGNORE): surgery went well and all

p (IGNORE): but hey

p (IGNORE): delayed not denied right ?

changed user’s contact name to “p”

AZ: right

AZ: you’ll be okay

AZ: i know it

p: i hope youre right

*****

p: did you see the schedule

p: we play you guys

p: dec 11

p: well i wont be but

AZ: i did!!

AZ: you guys don’t stand a chance btw

p: damn way to kick a girl while shes down az

AZ: sorry?

*****

AZ: happy birthday paige

AZ: you’re so old

p: shut up

p: thank you azzi

*****

p: happy bday az

p: yOu’Re sO oLd

AZ: ok i had that coming

AZ: but thank you :)

*****

p: just saw the clip

p: hope you and your knee are ok <3

p: rest up azzi

AZ: thanks p

AZ: looks like we’re both gonna be on the bench next week

AZ: we’re still beating you guys though

p: well see bout that

*****

AZ: told you so

p: i couldnt even play bro

AZ: and i could??

p: whatever

p: we beatin you in march idc

AZ: sure p sure

*****

Azzi sighs, stretching her thumbs again where they hover over the keyboard on her phone. She’s laid out on her parents’ couch, legs propped up on a pillow, feeling utterly ridiculous as she tries to muster up the courage to send a text to Paige. She scrolls back up through their conversations from the past few months for what must be the eighth time today, overanalyzing every word.

It shouldn’t be this difficult, really—it’s hardly the first time this year that she’s been the one to reach out and text Paige. And she’s literally just trying to ask her if she’s going to a party. It’s an extremely low stakes conversation topic.

And yet here she is, practically ripping her hair out at the thought of pressing "send."

In all honesty, it’s a pretty good way to sum up what this year has been—so much more difficult than it ever needed to be.

And to say it’s been a weird fucking year would be an understatement.

After a disappointing tournament run in March, Maryland’s team changes significantly, so much so that Azzi has a hard time keeping track of it all. Graduations, transfers out, transfers in, new freshman—they're basically an entirely new team by the time the season starts up again in the fall.

And then she meets a girl, Maya, late one night in February when she’s cramming for an exam in the student union. She’s on the track team—a sprinter—tall, and devastatingly pretty. She’s unwaveringly confident, too, sitting across the empty table from Azzi and striking up a conversation with her easily. They end up talking for so long that night that the cleaning staff have to kick them out.

Things just click after that.

It's nice. It’s safe. It’s fun.

It’s sneaking into team housing well past curfew. It’s study dates at their favorite coffee shop on campus. It’s stolen hoodies and cold winter nights, huddled together for heat. It’s good luck kisses and lingering hugs before away games or meets. It’s late-night FaceTimes when there’s hundreds of miles separating them. It’s flower bouquets and greeting cards left on kitchen counters.

It’s something that feels a lot like the beginning stages of love.

And, above all, it makes Azzi happy.

There’s just one persistent, unavoidable problem—there's never enough time. Differing practice schedules. Basketball games and track meets. Press conferences and weight training. Midterms and March Madness. Conference championships and long flights across the country.

And it’s unfortunate, really, because a big part of Azzi thinks things could’ve been different. That maybe in another life—one where they met at a different time—things might have stuck. Things might have been long-term, could have worked out.

But in this life, they don’t.

After that it’s fairly quiet. Some random hookups here and there over the summer. A couple dates that fizzle out by the end of the night.

In the end, nothing she really regrets, but nothing that's as real as those few months were with Maya.

And then she reinjures her knee in December, forcing her to be sidelined. An unfortunately familiar seat on the bench with her name on it.

And then, of course, there's this weird situation with Paige. One that Azzi herself more or less created when she first reached out in August after Paige tore her ACL. It isn't like texting a stranger, but it also isn't like texting the old best friend she once knew. It's something in between, some strange acquaintance-like relationship that leaves Azzi entirely confused as to what she should or shouldn’t say.

Even if it is a bit strange, and maybe not quite ideal, she has to admit that it's still nice to have Paige back in some capacity. And enough time has passed, enough people have come and gone, that Azzi's just starting to warm up to the idea of someday calling Paige her friend again. Just a little bit.

Oh, and maybe Azzi also still finds her to be incredibly attractive.

But that's hardly relevant.

Her phone vibrates in her hand, catching her so off guard that she nearly drops it on her face. Her heart starts pounding in her ears, her stomach fluttering with anticipation—

Damn, it’s just from Diamond.

Azzi groans, clicking the notification.

d💎: you text her yet

Azzi rolls her eyes at her friend’s impatience.

AZ: almost

d💎: you’re actually killing me here

d💎: gimme her number

d💎: i'm gonna text her if you don’t

AZ: absolutely not

AZ: i regret telling you anything

d💎: no you don’t

d💎: now quit stalling and text. her.

AZ: oh my god FINE

Azzi swipes out of their conversation and taps back into her one with Paige.

Here goes nothing.

AZ: hey, you going to that stupid party again this year?

She turns her phone off immediately and slams it face down into the couch cushions, bringing her hands up to cover her face.

Her phone chimes not more than 30 seconds later, and Azzi half expects it to be another text from Diamond asking for updates.

But it isn’t.

p: yo

p: the one at that football players house??

p: maybe. ion know yet

“Oh my God,” she mutters, fingers already flying over her keyboard.

AZ: dude

AZ: it’s literally tomorrow

AZ: how do you not know

p: dude

p: ima busy person

p: my time is valuable yk

p: wbu tho

Azzi tries to fight the smile that’s forming on her face. She thinks for a minute, deciding to answer honestly.

AZ: i was thinking about it

Azzi watches with bated breath as the three dots on the screen disappear and reappear several times.

p: then maybe i will

Azzi sighs, closing her eyes and pressing the side of her phone into her forehead.

I’m never getting a straight answer out of her, she concedes.

*****

If anyone were to ask Azzi, she would argue that a cropped cami tank top with a pair of ripped jeans is perfectly reasonable attire for a casual house party in early January. The below-freezing temperatures are simply irrelevant.

It, of course, has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Paige is likely to show up tonight. Azzi doesn’t think about how Paige had hugged her from behind and mumbled, “Looks so good, baby,” the last time she wore this shirt in front of her. She also doesn’t think about how Paige always seems especially distracted when she wears her hair up in a bun like this, blue eyes constantly straying to the lines of Azzi’s neck and collarbones.

She absolutely does not, under any circumstances, think about that. At all.

Azzi just likes to feel and look good is all. She’s got the former down easily, and she thinks she’s managed the latter, too, if the number of people who have come up to her tonight is any indication. Guys, girls, people she recognized and people she didn’t—it didn’t really seem to matter. It felt like there was an endless stream of drinks being offered, numbers trying to be given out, and suggestive conversations directed at her. It was flattering, sure, but none of them had the right tint of blonde hair, the exact shade of blue eyes, the correct build of muscle she had been searching for all night.

She downs the last of her drink, crushing the plastic cup in her hands and tossing it in the trash can behind her. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, checking the time. No texts.

Lifting a hand up to rub at her eye, she yawns and scans the room one more time, debating whether she should just call it a night at this point.

And then she feels it—the soft graze of fingers along her lower back, just above the waistband of her jeans. A warm, featherlight touch, then the familiar scent of vanilla and sandalwood and a low voice in her ear.

“Azzi.”

She spins towards her quickly, her breath catching in her throat at the proximity of Paige’s face to hers, just inches away. Azzi leans back a bit, mostly to give herself a chance to breathe, and feels the hand on her lower back slide to lightly press on the side of her hip.

Azzi drags her eyes over Paige then, unable to help herself, taking in the tech fleece pants hanging low on her hips and the black fitted T-shirt straining against the muscles in her arms. Azzi’s a bit surprised to see that she’s wearing her glasses—it’s not something she does very often. Paige is smirking, her blonde hair hanging loose around her shoulders, and Azzi swears she must have gotten taller since the last time she saw her.

She manages to catch her breath for a moment, flashing a smile that she hopes doesn’t reveal the nerves that she’s feeling. “Hi, Paige.”

Neither of them seems to know what to do after that because, honestly, what are you supposed to do in this type of situation?

To Azzi’s surprise, Paige makes the first move, stepping into Azzi’s space and snaking her other arm gently around Azzi’s waist. It takes Azzi a few seconds to respond before she leans into Paige and circles her arms around her shoulders. Azzi’s heart rate picks up even more when she feels Paige’s breath being released heavily against her, the tension leaving her shoulders.

“This okay?” Paige asks, her breath hot against the outside of Azzi’s ear. Azzi hums in agreement, settling her head to rest on Paige’s shoulder.

It probably should be awkward, and it is for just a second or two, but muscle memory kicks in and it ends up being more comforting than anything. It’s a hug after all, something they’ve done probably hundreds, if not thousands, of times over the years.

They could be there for a few seconds or a few minutes—Azzi really isn’t sure. At some point she feels someone bump into her as they walk by and that snaps her out of it, makes her realize that they are still at this party and people are definitely looking. She takes a step back and clears her throat, patting Paige’s shoulder once before dropping her arms to her sides.

“You look good, P,” Azzi admits, smiling softly.

Paige coughs and looks over her shoulder for a second before turning back to face her and—

Is she blushing?

She coughs again before saying, “Thanks. You do too, Az.”

Azzi smiles appreciatively, looking down at her hands. “Couple people here seemed to think so, too.”

Paige chuckles. “Yeah, saw ‘em all lined up for you.”

“You been talking to anyone else here?”

“Nah, not really,” Paige replies, waving her hand, and Azzi glances up to meet her eyes. Paige shrugs. “Only really came here for one person, you know?”

Azzi doesn’t have to ask her who that person is—the way Paige’s eyes are trailing across her face tells her everything she needs to know.

“Is that so?” Azzi crosses her arms in front of her, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Mhm.” Paige glances around the room before leaning into Azzi’s space again. “Hey, wanna get outta here? We can go somewhere else or somethin’.”

“I guess I can swing that,” Azzi agrees, hoping she comes across as indifferent as possible.

“Aight, cool.” Paige pats her pockets, searching for her keys. “You take your car here?”

Azzi shakes her head. “No, I walked.”

Paige raises an eyebrow at her, an incredulous look on her face. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did,” Azzi tries again, patting her own pockets to prove that they're empty.

“You walked here,” Paige repeats, still disbelieving. “In this weather.”

“It was only, like, 20 minutes.”

“There’s no way.”

“It’s better for the environment!”

“You’re insane.”

“Oh my God, can we just take your car or not?” Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Always the passenger princess.” Paige remarks, looking smug. “But, yeah, let’s go.” Paige beckons for Azzi to follow her to the coatrack. Paige holds the door open as they pull on their coats, both of the waving their hands over their shoulders as some people call out to them.

The short walk to Paige’s car is quiet, the occasional crunch of footsteps on snow the only sound. Azzi slips into the passenger seat and clicks her seat belt on, watching as Paige does the same in the driver’s seat. Paige drums her fingers quietly on the steering wheel, and Azzi glances out the window to look back at the house they just came from.

“So, uh, where to?” Paige asks, breaking the silence.

Azzi thinks for a moment before turning to Paige with a grin.

“Slushies?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

*****

“There’s just no way he said that,” Azzi giggles, readjusting her feet where they rest on Paige’s dashboard. They’re parked outside of Azzi’s parents’ house, heat blasting through the vents, SZA playing softly through the speakers, conversation flowing freely, half-drunken slushies melted and abandoned in the cupholders between them.

“I swear it’s true!” Paige promises.

“He for real told you that you have ‘the shittiest shooting form he’s ever fucking seen’?”

“On God, he did,” Paige laughs, running a hand through her hair. “Coach can be ruthless when he’s pissed off, man.”

“And you wanted me to come to UConn because?”

“Oh, c'mon, Az. You know no one can stay mad at you.” Paige reaches out and pokes at Azzi’s cheek. “Not with that face.”

Azzi pushes her hand away, flustered. “Shut up, P.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Whatever.”

A comfortable silence stretches on then, the two of them taking a moment to enjoy each other’s presence.

Azzi glances down at her watch. “I should probably get going,” she admits regretfully, turning around and rummaging in the backseat for her coat.

“Lemme pull up for you,” Paige insists, putting the car in drive and turning into the driveway.

She feels Paige put the car in park again just as she manages to find her jacket. “Thanks,” Azzi starts, pulling the door handle—

It’s locked.

What the hell?

Azzi yanks on it twice to be sure before turning to level her a stare. There’s a mischievous glint in Paige's eye that she doesn't trust. “So, are you letting me out or what?”

Paige keeps smiling widely at her, not moving or saying anything.

“Paige.”

Azzi watches Paige nod her head towards the front of the house, and Azzi follows the motion to see Curry and Stewie poking their heads through the curtains, their barks echoing off the window. Azzi shakes her head and glances back at Paige. “What is it?”

Paige shrugs, bringing her hands up to rest on the wheel again. “You gotta at least let me see my kids, Azzi.”

“Are you inviting yourself inside my house?” Azzi feels her eye twitching.

“Please,” Paige begs, and then she honest to God pouts at Azzi. “Think I’m due a visitation.”

“You are actually so annoying.” Azzi leans her head against the cool glass of the car window, closing her eyes.

“Is that a yes?” Paige asks, her voice lifting excitedly.

“It will be if you unlock this.” Azzi pulls on the door handle repeatedly.

“Ha, let’s go!” Paige exclaims, pressing the "unlock" button immediately and sprinting out of the car. She’s on the front porch and jumping in place before Azzi even has the chance to close the car door behind her.

“Alright, chill out,” Azzi mutters, brushing past her and turning the key into the lock. Paige pushes the door open the rest of the way and stumbles through the doorframe, kicking her shoes off. She makes it about five feet into the house before she drops to her knees and starts petting and hugging the two dogs racing around her.

Azzi locks the door behind her, and she can’t help the smile that overtakes her face when she sees Paige laid out on the ground, Stewie and Curry clambering over her to lick her face.

“My kids,” Paige coos, cradling Stewie in one arm and scratching Curry’s chin with her other hand. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s home now.”

Shaking her head, Azzi tears her eyes away from the scene and flops onto the couch. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and makes herself comfortable.

Paige stands up after a few minutes and stretches her arms above her head, groaning dramatically. Azzi catches a glimpse of her shirt riding up and her boxers peeking out before she pulls her phone closer to her face, fighting the heat creeping up on her cheeks. Paige doesn’t seem to notice, or if she does, she luckily doesn’t say anything about it. She moves to peek her head in the kitchen and the hallway before she reenters the living room.

“Nobody home?” Paige asks, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Azzi grabs a throw pillow off the couch and hurls it at her, but Paige catches it easily. “Stop. They went to a family holiday party thing I think.”

“And how the hell did you get outta goin’ to that?” Azzi feels the couch shake as Paige hops over the back of it and settles in across from her.

She puts her phone down and looks at Paige more fully then. “Like you said, no one can say no to this,” she explains, flashing her signature dimpled smile and pointing at it with both hands.

“I was jokin’ when I said that,” Azzi thinks she hears Paige grumble as she hugs the pillow she’s still holding to her chest.

Azzi goes back to scrolling on her phone, and she sees Paige throw the pillow up in the air and catch it a few times in her periphery.

She hears a heavy sigh, but she ignores it, opting to respond to a few texts from her teammates instead.

Then there’s another sigh, somehow more emphatic than the last, and the push of a foot against her own.

“Azzi.”

Maybe if I ignore her for long enough, she’ll stop, Azzi considers.

“Azzi.”

Just pretend you don’t hear her.

“Azzi Fudd.”

When has that ever actually worked, though?

“Azzi, please.”

Oh my fucking God, why did I let her in my house?

She clicks her phone off and drops it at her side, glaring daggers at Paige. “What?”

“Dude, I’m bored,” Paige complains.

“Dude, you literally do not have to be here,” Azzi points out.

“Entertain me, please.” Paige is practically begging now. “Aren’t you supposed to do that for your guests?”

Azzi closes her eyes and throws an arm over her face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re extremely annoying?”

“Yeah, you. Multiple times today, actually.”

“I was so right about that.”

“Okay, but can we do somethin’?” Paige asks again, kicking at her foot. Azzi kicks back, sliding her arm off her face.

“2K?” she suggests, gesturing to the controllers on the coffee table.

Paige’s eyes light up and she’s up in a flash, grabbing the remote to turn the TV on. “Fuck yes. Imma be the Lynx, though.”

“Whatever you want.”

*****

“Damn, you letting me win now, Paige?”

“Bro, ‘course not.”

“What’s your excuse this time?”

“Not my fault you keep distractin’ me, Az.”

“Not my fault you can’t keep your eyes off me, P.”

“Shut up. One more, I swear. Then we can quit.”

“Only if you win though, right?”

“Bro, just play.”

“Fine.”

*****

It’s many, many, games later—the clock on the wall having ticked over to the A.M. hours long ago—before Azzi has to tap out, eyes bleary and energy drained.

“Alright, I’m done,” Azzi sighs, tossing the controller on the coffee table and standing up slowly to stretch her back.

“Finally givin’ up?” Paige challenges, raising her eyebrows at her. Amazingly, somehow, she doesn’t look tired in the slightest.

“No, I’m not 'giving up.' I’ll literally fall asleep if we play one more.”

“If you say so.”

“Paige,” Azzi whines, pouting at her. “I just want to go to bed.”

“Aight, let’s be done then,” Paige agrees, setting her controller aside and standing up to stretch out.

“Are you awake enough to drive home?” Azzi questions.

“Me? Imma be just fine,” Paige assures her, moving toward the door. She bends down to pick up her shoes and pulls the curtain aside with a finger to peer outside. “Yeah, it’s no problem—oh, shit.”

Azzi strides over, reaching for the curtain to open it. “What is it?”

“Uh, well,” Paige starts, voice slightly muffled behind the thick fabric. “There’s a—”

Azzi grabs hold of the curtains, yanking them away to reveal the scene outside. Her jaw drops.

“—blizzard,” Paige finishes.

A fresh layer of snow, several inches deep, covers the ground. The wind lifts it up, blowing it around wildly, creating near whiteout conditions. Azzi can barely see Paige’s car parked in the driveway, a mere ten feet away.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Azzi mutters, staring disbelievingly out the window.

Paige furrows her brow, seeming to think something over for a minute. “Nah, I’ll still drive home.” She sits down on the recliner, untying the laces on her shoe.

“Like hell you will,” Azzi scoffs.

Paige looks up at her, pausing her movements. “Bro, chill. It’s, like, a couple blocks.”

But Azzi is persistent, moving to guard the door, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not letting you go out in that.”

“I can drive slow.”

“I don’t think you’re capable of that,” Azzi retorts, readjusting her arms. “Just stay, please. It’s too dangerous.”

“If you’re sure,” Paige concedes, tossing her sneakers behind her.

“I am.”

“Cool,” Paige stands, stretching her arms again. “I got the couch then.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, punches Paige’s shoulder playfully. “Don’t be stupid, P.”

Paige brings up a hand to rub at the spot Azzi hit, wincing in mock hurt. “Ow. Stupid ‘bout what?”

“You can just sleep in my bed. You are a guest after all,” Azzi points out, referring back to what Paige had said earlier.

Paige wiggles her eyebrows for the second time tonight, and Azzi considers punching her again, harder this time. “You want me that bad, huh?”

“Oh my God, stop. Look, I’ll take the couch, you take the bed? That fine?” Azzi offers, rubbing at her eyes.

“That’s dumb. You’re not gonna sleep in your own bed?”

Azzi throws her arms up in the air exasperatedly. “What do you suggest then?”

“I’on see why we can’t both just sleep in the bed,” Paige shrugs, not really meeting Azzi’s eyes.

How the hell did we get here?

“Whatever, sure,” Azzi relents, even though every fiber of her being is urging her to do the exact opposite. “I’m too tired for this. My family is gonna be home soon and I wanna sleep at least a little before they barge in.” She turns away and starts dragging her feet down the hallway to her room, hearing Paige padding quietly behind her. She pushes the door open with her shoulder and immediately goes to her closet, searching for something more comfortable to change into.

In the corner of her eye she spots Paige, shuffling about the room, eyes roaming over her pink bed sheets, the assortment of unicorn stuffed animals on her desk, the rainbow decals on her mirror. “Haven’t really changed much, huh?

Azzi grabs a pair of fleece pajama pants and a T-shirt, chuckling. “I don’t exactly live here anymore.”

“Good point.” Paige nods her head, running a finger along Azzi’s trophy shelf. Her eyes spot one item in particular and she takes it off the shelf. She flips the medal over to study the engraving on the back. “‘2018 Minnesota State Tournament: Class AAAA Champions’,” she reads with a scowl on her face. “Still can’t believe you guys beat us.”

Azzi walks up to her and snatches the medal from her, setting it back in its place. “Still can’t believe you’re not over it. This was, like, five years ago.”

“Aw, c’mon now. That last foul call was bullshit and you know it,” Paige grumbles.

“I think you’re just mad I dropped 30 points on your ass,” Azzi teases.

Paige frowns, crossing her arms. “No one was helpin’ me on defense.”

“Uh huh. Look, I’m gonna get dressed and stuff,” Azzi calls over her shoulder on her way to the bathroom. She pauses in the doorway and points a finger at Paige accusingly. “No touching anything else.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Paige promises with a mock salute.

Azzi changes into her pajamas and gets ready for bed as quickly as her fatigued body will allow, which is to say not very quickly at all. By the time she’s done, she’s so drained that she’s sluggishly dragging her body back to her room.

She’s rounding the corner into her room, dirty clothes from the party in hand, when she happens to look up. She chokes on air, clothing falling out of her hands, and stumbles to regain her balance.

Paige is sprawled out on her bed, hair splaying across her pillows, the light of her phone screen lighting up her face.

But none of that is the issue here.

The issue here is that Paige is wearing a sports bra and pair of boxers and that’s it.

The lines of her hips are visible, her abs pulled taut, and Azzi suddenly feels like she needs to cover her eyes, unless she wants to start choking on air again. “What the fuck are you doing?” she squeaks out, hands covering her face.

She hears Paige laugh. “It’s hot as hell in here. I’on know why you keep the temp at, like, 75 degrees all the time.”

“So you had to take your clothes off?”

“It’s nothin’ you haven’t seen before anyways.”

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

Azzi leans against the wall, dropping her hands from her face but keeping her eyes screwed tightly shut. “Can you—God, can you at least put a shirt on or something?”

I’m not sleeping a wink tonight if she doesn’t.

She hears the bed creak slightly and assumes Paige must be sitting up now. “If I gotta.”

Azzi takes that as agreement and blindly feels her way to her closet, searching for the closest T-shirt she can find and pulling it off the hanger. She tosses it behind her in the direction of the bed.

“Okay, Imma get ready too then, I guess,” Paige is saying, the sound of her footsteps becoming more distant as she exits the room.

Azzi expels all the air out of her lungs, finally allowing herself to open her eyes. With shaky legs she makes her way to the bed, tucking herself under the covers. She takes a few more steadying breaths.

Pull it together, Fudd.

Paige is back sooner than Azzi is ready for her to be, but she stops a few feet into the room and gestures at her shirt. “This funny to you or somethin’?”

Azzi takes a moment to actually look at the shirt she unknowingly picked out for Paige and barks out a laugh, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

The shirt has "St. John’s – State Champs" written across the chest in bold letters, her old high school’s logo below it.

“Okay, I promise I didn’t mean to pick that one,” Azzi swears, unable to contain her laughter.

“I’on believe you,” Paige grunts, sliding into the empty side of the bed. “You know I’d get beat up if anyone saw me wearin’ this, right?”

“Good thing it’s just me then, huh?”

“Guess so,” Paige grumbles, pulling the sheets up to her chin.

“Don’t worry,” Azzi says, smirking. “Your secret is safe with me, Cadet.”

Paige glares at her before rolling over and turning her back to Azzi. “I’m actually done talkin’ to you. Night.”

Azzi turns her bedside lamp off, encasing the room in darkness, save for a few bands of a dim streetlight poking through her blinds. “Night,” she echoes, settling to lay on her back.

She wills herself to sleep then, waiting for the exhaustion she’s been feeling for the past few hours to finally take over.

It doesn’t come.

It shouldn’t be this difficult.

But Azzi’s mind is racing, all thoughts on her former best friend stretched out beside her. Paige, lying in her childhood bed, clad in one of Azzi’s old basketball T-shirts and a pair of boxers, the warmth radiating from her enough to scorch Azzi’s skin even from half a foot away.

“Hey, P?” Azzi whispers, her gaze still glued to the ceiling.

She sees movement in her periphery, Paige angling her head back slightly in her direction. “Hm?”

Azzi swallows hard, attempting to dislodge the lump forming in her throat.

There’s been one question turning itself over and over in her mind all day. A thought that wouldn’t leave her head no matter how hard she tried to shake it out.

God, this is such a bad idea.

“Did you have a New Year’s kiss this year?” she hears herself ask.

Everything is silent then, and Azzi can’t think of many other times in her life where she’s felt as vulnerable as she does now.

The quietness stretches on for an agonizingly long amount of time. It lasts for so long, in fact, that part of Azzi begins to wonder if Paige might have fallen asleep.

“Nah,” Paige mumbles, breaking the silence. She turns fully back onto her side to face Azzi, resting her hands together underneath her head. Azzi feels her heavy stare piercing through the darkness and shivers. “You?”

Azzi shakes her head, sighs, “Me neither.”

She moves to face Paige, mirroring her position, her heartbeat thumping wildly in her ears.

Azzi wets her lips, locks her eyes onto Paige’s.

Fuck it.

“Did you want to have one?” she breathes out.

She doesn’t know what she’s expecting. Maybe for Paige to shove her playfully or smile at her or something like that.

But Paige brings her bottom lip into her mouth, waits a beat, then nods her head.

Oh.

She wants this, too.

Azzi isn’t sure which of them is leaning in, but suddenly Paige’s face is just inches from her own, her breath warm against Azzi’s lips.

“Are you sure?” Paige whispers.

Am I sure I want this?

Absolutely.

Am I sure we should be doing this?

Well...

Despite her doubts, Azzi swallows and nods her head.

Paige is the one to close the gap between them, hesitant, at first, and gentle, just the soft press of her lips against Azzi’s own. A tentative reunion, two aching souls finally coming back home to each other.

And then the kiss turns needy, hungry, and Paige is bringing a hand up to cup her face, sliding the other down to Azzi’s waist. Azzi does the same, tugs slightly to bring Paige to hover slightly over her. Paige is kissing her hard now, pressing her into the bed, exhaling heavily, making Azzi’s heart flutter uncontrollably.

Azzi makes a decision then, pulls back just slightly and uses her tongue to part Paige’s lips, shivering when she feels Paige sigh against her mouth. The action seems to spur Paige on further because she’s shifting again, slipping her leg in between Azzi’s, applying just a hint of pressure, building up a low heat there.

Paige is relentless, kissing her with such fervor that it makes her head spin. Azzi feels a thumb dip below the waistband of her pants, caressing against her hip, and for some reason that snaps Azzi out of the dizzy haze she's found herself trapped in.

Azzi breaks the kiss, lightheaded, because if she doesn't do it now she thinks they might never stop.

Paige rests their foreheads together for a moment. She leans back, shifts her body off Azzi’s, her pupils blown out and her chest heaving.

“There,” Azzi hears herself say, breath uneven. “Happy New Year.” Then she rolls away from Paige, heartbeat still erratic in her ears, shaking hands pulling the covers back over herself.

She feels the bed shift a minute later as Paige wordlessly turns away from her.

Azzi brings her fingers up to touch her mouth, the sensation still lingering there.

It’s hours before sleep finally finds her.

*****

Azzi wakes to the afternoon sunlight hitting her square in the face, and she pulls a pillow over her head to block it out. Groaning, she blindly sticks an arm out beside her, feeling for a warm body next to her to shake awake.

Her hand comes up empty.

She shoots up in her bed, panic swarming her as she scans across the empty room. Her chest tightens, her throat constricts.

Fuck, she’s gone.

Tears are just starting to prick at the corner of her eyes when the sound of boisterous laughter bounces off the walls of the hallway.

Curious, Azzi follows the sound, finding its source relatively quickly.

The sight is strange enough to raise Azzi’s eyebrows—her dad and Paige, seated on opposite sides of the dining table, laughing over empty breakfast plates.

Paige notices her first, nodding her chin towards her in acknowledgement. “Hey, Az.” She pats the chair next to her. “Sit.”

Azzi doesn’t move, eyes moving skeptically between her dad and Paige. “Hi. What are you guys talking about?”

“Oh, it’s nothin’,” her dad says, but the snickering between the two of them afterwards is saying something completely different.

“This.” Azzi points a finger back and forth between the two of them. “This I don’t like.”

“C’mon, we’re just messin’,” Paige assures, still grinning devilishly.

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” Azzi responds sarcastically, opening the fridge door and sticking her head in it, searching for something to settle her rumbling stomach. “So, what are we doing today?”

“Packing, I guess?” Paige replies.

Azzi picks her head up at that and closes the fridge. “Huh, why?”

“Got a flight to Connecticut in the mornin',” Paige shrugs, and Azzi’s heart drops to her stomach.

“You do?” she asks, failing to keep the sadness from creeping into her voice.

Paige looks apologetic, casting her eyes downward. “Yeah. I’m sorry. Forgot to mention it. Speakin’ of, I should head on out soon.” She stands, putting her dishes in the sink before clapping Azzi’s dad on the back. “Good to see you as always, Tim.”

He smiles up at her fondly. “You too, Paige.”

“Imma grab my stuff,” Paige says, brushing past Azzi into the living room. Azzi moves on autopilot, trailing behind her.

It takes Paige all of three seconds to get ready, having only really come here with her phone and the clothes she wore yesterday, which she must have changed back into at some point. Azzi watches her pull her sneakers on, shrug into her jacket.

“Guess this it then,” Paige starts, eyes looking anywhere but at Azzi.

Azzi wrings her hands together, trying to figure out where to go from here. “Well, uh, I guess I’ll see you around then, P.”

Azzi is going to leave it at that, moving her arms to give Paige a quick hug, but then Paige is grabbing her arm and pulling her in closer, lowering her voice. “Don't we need to talk 'bout somethin'?”

“Last time you said that you broke up with me.” Azzi pries Paige’s fingers off her arm.

Paige bristles at that, rubbing at the back of her neck nervously. “Okay, but still. We need to talk.”

“About?” Azzi asks, even though she already knows where this conversation is going. She looks at Paige expectantly.

“We kissed, Azzi. You don’t think we should talk ‘bout that?” There’s a crease between her eyebrows. “I mean, like, what does it mean, you know?”

There are two ways Azzi can play this. She can be honest, tell Paige that she lost hours of sleep over it, that it’s the only thing she’s thought about since she woke up, that it shifted her world off its axis. Can tell her that all those feelings she tried to push down have risen rapidly back to the surface, demanding all of her attention. Can lay it all out in front of them, knowing it could be months before the next time they see each other again.

And then there’s a second option.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Azzi is saying, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

Maybe it's time for the ball to be in Paige's court now.

Paige shakes her head exaggeratedly, her face screwed up in utter confusion. “It doesn’t?”

“Not unless we want it to,” Azzi continues, making her expression as unreadable as possible.

“Well, do you?”

Azzi hums noncommittally, looking down at her nails. “Probably easier if we just forget about it, right? I mean, it was only one kiss.”

There’s conflict painted clear across Paige’s face, her mouth opening and closing several times like she can’t quite figure out how she’s supposed to respond to that. She bites her lip hard, so hard that Azzi is a little concerned that she’s about to draw blood.

“I—I, uh,” she stutters, and Azzi can’t remember the last time she saw her look this flustered. “No, yeah. For sure. Just a kiss.” She nods her head once, like she’s trying to convince herself.

“Good, I’m glad we agree,” Azzi replies, even if she doesn’t really mean it.

Paige scratches at the back of her neck again, clearly not anticipating the conversation to go like this. “Yeah. So...maybe I’ll see you in March or somethin’?” She offers a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

Azzi shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

*****

She doesn’t.

[rootedinrevisions]

Where the Night Ends

SUMMARY: After an evening in the spotlight, Glen Powell’s biggest night of the year is more than just red carpets and bright lights—it’s a celebration of his career and a test of his resilience. Through the glamour and chaos, you’re by his side, offering him a safe space to share the highs and the inevitable disappointments. In the quiet hours after the applause fades, the two of you find strength in each other, proving that true connection shines brighter than any award.

A/N: This story was inspired by the idea for a story I've had for a while for Glen that even the most charismatic and confident people, like Glen Powell, have quieter, more vulnerable sides they don’t often show the world. While Glen’s charm and upbeat personality make him shine in the public eye, I wanted to imagine what those quiet, intimate moments might look like—the ones where he allows himself to relax and let his guard down with someone he trusts completely. And I thought tonight with the Golden Globes and him not winning would be a perfect way to explore this idea I've had. Also I don't know why but Glen low key gives me golden retriever boyfriend vibes so there's some of that in here as well!

I’d love to hear your thoughts! Your Likes, Comments, and Reblogs mean the world to me and help me continue creating stories like this one.

WARNINGS: Nudity (No Smut, just non-sexual but intimate nudity).

TAGS: In comments.

You glance at your reflection one last time, running your hands down the smooth fabric of your gown. The luxurious satin hugs your body in all the right places, the deep color shimmering subtly under the bathroom light. The rich hue perfectly complements Glen’s sharp, classic black ensemble, and you can't help but imagine how great the two of you will look together tonight. The gold accents on your bracelet catch the light with every movement, adding a hint of warmth to the otherwise cool tones of the dress. It feels like magic—elegant, understated, and yet striking in its own quiet way. The gown pools slightly at your feet, as if it were made for you.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that have settled in the pit of your stomach. This is your first time attending such an event with Glen, despite the time you’ve been together. You won’t be walking the red carpet beside him, and the idea of staying in the background, on the sidelines, makes you both excited and slightly anxious. You're not used to this kind of attention, and tonight, all eyes will be on him.

Before you can let the nerves fully settle in, you hear Glen's voice. His warm, familiar tone breaks through the quiet of the hotel room.

"Damn," he murmurs from the doorway, his voice a little breathless. "I thought the Golden Globes were supposed to be the main event tonight, but now I’m not so sure."

You turn toward him, your heart skipping a beat. He’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a grin, his velvet jacket catching the light. His eyes lock onto yours, and there’s something in them—a mixture of admiration, affection, and something deeper.

He takes a slow step forward, his gaze never leaving yours, and wraps his arms around you from behind. His chest presses into your back, warm and solid, grounding you in the moment. His breath brushes against your ear, soft and gentle.

"You look incredible," he says, voice low and reverent, before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You meet his eyes in the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. The warmth of his embrace settles your nerves, and the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding begins to melt away.

His presence is like a balm, soothing your anxieties. You lean back into him, the soft beat of his heart against your back comforting you. It’s a moment of quiet intimacy before the whirlwind of the night begins.

"You sure I’m not going to embarrass you in front of all those cameras?" you tease, glancing back at him with a playful smile.

Glen chuckles softly, tightening his arms around you just a little. "You couldn’t embarrass me if you tried," he murmurs, his voice steady. "Besides I think my mom and dad have the embarrassing moments covered."

You both laugh softly, but the smile that stretches across his face is real—genuine, almost vulnerable in a way that only you get to see. It’s a rare, quiet moment that makes you feel all the more certain of the love you share.

You take a deep breath, your nerves settling as you feel the warmth of his body surrounding you. His embrace is a reminder of the calm you’ve come to rely on in the chaos of this world—his, and now yours.

"Alright, I think it’s time to get going," you say softly, turning slightly to grab your coat from the chair.

Glen kisses your cheek before you both head for the door, his hand brushing yours as you step into the next phase of the night.

You and Glen step out of the hotel room, the cool air of the hallway brushing against your skin as the door clicks shut behind you. Glen’s hand finds yours almost instinctively, the familiar warmth of his touch grounding you once again. You give him a small smile, feeling the shift from the quiet intimacy of the room to the bustle of the world outside.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice warm but laced with a hint of excitement. His eyes twinkle, full of that effortless charm he seems to carry with him no matter where he goes.

"Ready as I’ll ever be," you reply, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

The elevator ride down to the lobby is quick, but the silence between you is comfortable. Glen’s thumb brushes lightly against your hand as you both stand side by side, the sound of the elevator music almost drowned out by the rush of adrenaline you both share. Tonight is big—for him, for both of you—but in this moment, it’s just the two of you, sharing a quiet space before the chaos begins.

The elevator dings as it reaches the lobby floor, and you step out into the bright, bustling space. The lobby is abuzz with activity—people in tuxedos and gowns chatting, last-minute preparations happening all around. You spot the entrance to the event area, where a stream of reporters and photographers are lined up, their cameras ready to catch the next big arrival.

Glen’s parents, Cyndy and Glen Sr., are already waiting by the elevators, talking to a few other familiar faces. The moment they see you both, Cyndy’s warm, motherly smile lights up her face.

"There they are!" she says, walking over to give Glen a hug. "Glen, you look so handsome!"

Glen returns her embrace with a chuckle, his broad shoulders relaxing in her hug. "Thanks, Mom. You look amazing, too."

Cyndy pulls back, giving you a quick once-over with approving eyes. "And you, sweetheart, look just breathtaking."

"Thank you," you say, smiling softly, feeling a wave of warmth at her words.

Glen Sr. gives you a small nod of approval before turning his attention to the growing crowd. “Ready to go, son?” he asks, his voice low and steady, a stark contrast to the bright excitement in the air.

"Yeah, let’s do this," Glen replies, squeezing your hand once more before stepping forward.

As you step toward the doors, the weight of the night becomes palpable, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Glen’s hand slips from yours, but not before he gives it one last, reassuring squeeze. His gaze meets yours for a moment, his eyes soft with affection despite the flurry of activity around you.

He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a wave of warmth through your body. 

"Stay close to my parents," he murmurs, his voice low and steady, a mixture of affection and quiet command. "I’ll talk to you after the red carpet, okay?"

You nod, the reassurance in his words settling your nerves just slightly. His presence, even in these small moments, brings you an unexpected sense of calm. You watch as he straightens up, giving you a final, comforting smile before turning to head towards the first section of the red carpet. The flashing lights of the cameras immediately focus on him, the buzz of voices rising as they call out his name.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that tonight isn’t about the spotlight on you—it’s about being there for him, supporting him as he steps into this moment.

Before you can fully process the next rush of energy, you feel a light nudge at your elbow. Glen’s dad, with his ever-so-gracious demeanor, offers you his arm. 

"Shall we?" he asks with a warm smile, a glint of pride in his eyes as he looks toward his son, now posing for the cameras ahead.

You slip your arm through his, the two of you walking in step with Glen’s mother beside you. The hum of the red carpet fills the air, the cameras flashing in bursts like strobe lights as people call out names, photographers jockeying for the best shot. It feels surreal, watching Glen move through the chaos so effortlessly, a magnet for attention, while you remain just behind him, tucked safely in the background.

The red carpet is a world of its own—a whirlwind of lights, flashing cameras, and excited chatter. You stand a few feet behind Glen, walking with his parents as you watch him effortlessly navigate the chaos. From the moment he steps onto the carpet, he’s in his element, greeting reporters, posing for the cameras, and smiling with a confidence that seems almost innate.

He moves with such ease, each step deliberate, his velvet jacket catching the light with every turn. The photographers call out his name, the clicks of the cameras almost deafening, but Glen is unfazed. He’s a natural—tilting his head slightly, flashing that signature smile that’s made him a favorite among fans and critics alike. Each pose is perfectly executed, like he’s done this a thousand times, and yet you know it’s all real, all part of the moment.

Glen interacts with the reporters as though they’re old friends. He laughs at their jokes, asks how their evening is going, and never misses a beat. It’s impossible not to feel proud as you watch him—this man you love, who has worked so hard to get to this point in his career, now being recognized for his talents. The genuine warmth in his smile, the way he listens to each person, makes them feel like they’re the only one in the room.

You catch snippets of conversations, little flashes of Glen’s humor and grace as he talks to the interviewers. “It’s an honor just to be here with such incredible talent,” he says to one, giving a humble but genuine answer that makes the reporter smile brightly. The cameras click furiously as he poses once more, a wink in your direction as if he’s sharing a private joke with you amidst all the attention.

He walks past you briefly, pausing to stop and chat with one of the other nominees. The other actor greets him warmly, their handshake firm and friendly. Glen’s laughter rings out, the two of them talking animatedly. It’s clear they’re both enjoying the interaction, and you feel a swell of pride as you watch him effortlessly charm everyone around him.

As Glen continues walking down the carpet, interacting with other actors and actresses, you steal quick glances at him, noticing the way his eyes flicker toward you, checking in even amidst the chaos. Every so often, he pauses—just for a moment—and looks back to where you’re standing with his parents, catching your gaze in a fleeting moment of connection.

It happens once when he’s posing for a photographer. He turns just enough to meet your eyes, his smile softening, just for you. Then, as he moves toward the next group of reporters, he sends a quick wink your way—casual but filled with meaning.

As he’s walking towards the interview section, he reaches out briefly, brushing his hand against yours. It’s so subtle, so quick, but the warmth of it lingers, making your heart skip a beat. You smile to yourself, feeling like you’re the only one in the crowd who understands the quiet moments between the flashes.

Every now and then, he checks in with his parents, his dad offering a gentle nod or a pat on the back, and his mom giving him a quick hug, congratulating him on the moment. As he walks past you again, he places his hand lightly on your lower back, the touch firm but gentle, like a silent reassurance. He leans in, his voice low but carrying just enough for you to hear, “I’m almost done, I promise.” You smile softly, nodding, grateful for the little check-ins.

With each moment, you feel more in awe of him—his ability to navigate this world with such grace, his kindness, and his generosity toward everyone he meets. You’ve always known how hard he’s worked for this, but seeing him shine like this, being recognized for his talent, makes your heart swell with pride. The man standing before you, talking to the crowd, was once just a guy with a dream—and now, he’s living it.

As Glen steps off the red carpet, the flurry of flashing cameras and excited shouts start to fade away. The soft hum of conversation inside the venue fills the air, and for a brief moment, you feel like the world slows down. You catch his eye just as he spots you standing at the edge of the carpet, watching him. His smile lights up his face—genuine and warm—and your heart flutters just a little bit at the sight of it.

Without a second thought, Glen strides over to you, his presence commanding yet soft, as though the spotlight of the red carpet hasn’t followed him. He leans in, pressing a quick, simple kiss to your lips—one that might be so brief to anyone watching that they’d miss it, but to you, it feels like a promise. It’s the kind of kiss that lingers just enough to remind you that you’re still in his thoughts, even in the whirlwind of the evening.

Pulling back, Glen smiles at you, his eyes soft but intense. Without missing a beat, he reaches down and takes your hand in his, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the midst of everything. His parents, ever gracious, follow behind as Glen begins to lead you into the venue.

As you step inside, the atmosphere changes. The venue is filled with a sea of familiar, and very recognizable, faces. A sea of stars, each more dazzling than the last. You glance around, and your nerves spike just a little—this is the world Glen belongs to, and even though you’re used to being by his side, it feels a little more overwhelming now. The glitzy chandeliers above, the hum of voices, the clicking of glasses... all of it is a far cry from the quieter, more intimate moments you’ve shared together.

Instinctively, you bring your free hand up and curl it around Glen’s arm, drawing just a little closer to him. It’s subtle, a small gesture, but it makes you feel grounded in a room full of people you don’t quite know. Glen notices immediately, his eyes flicking down to you as if checking in to see how you're holding up.

“You alright?” he murmurs under his breath, his voice low but caring.

You give him a small smile, nodding, but he can tell there’s a flicker of nervousness in your eyes. Glen squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, reassuring rhythm. 

“We’ve got this,” he says with a quiet confidence that you know is meant as much for you as it is for himself.

His smile is enough to settle your nerves, if only for a moment. You take a deep breath, and as the two of you move further into the room, the sight of the grand tables, the gleaming crystal glasses, and the fancy place settings begin to feel more familiar. Glen leads you with an easy grace, guiding you toward your assigned table with a worker who’s waiting to escort you.

The worker gestures toward your seats, and Glen holds out his hand as you approach. With a flourish, he pulls your chair out for you, a small yet thoughtful gesture that makes you feel like the most important person in the room. You smile at him, grateful for his quiet care in a setting that could easily feel overwhelming.

As you sit down, Glen takes the seat beside you, his presence as steady and comforting as it has always been. He straightens his jacket and settles into his seat, and for the first time in hours, the two of you share a quiet moment, just the two of you. The world outside might be full of glamour, fame, and recognition, but here, in this little bubble you’ve found together, it’s just Glen—being the perfect gentleman, just as he always is.

The award show begins with a grand flourish. The host steps onto the stage, the lights dimming just slightly as the audience settles into their seats. You glance around, taking in the bustling room—famous actors, actresses, and directors sitting nearby, the whispers of excitement as the event officially kicks off.

Glen’s hand rests lightly on the back of your chair. The touch is small, but it anchors you in the midst of all the grandeur surrounding you. Without thinking, you lean into him just slightly, your head tipping toward his. The warmth of his body is a comfort, grounding you as the opening monologue begins.

The host captures the crowd’s attention with a series of jokes, and the sound of laughter ripples across the room. Glen smiles at the moment, but his attention is mostly on you. Every now and then, his fingers gently tap the back of your chair as if offering his quiet reassurance. You can feel his eyes on you, checking in with a glance when he thinks you’re not looking, making sure you’re comfortable in your seat.

The first few awards pass by quickly, the names of the nominees and winners announced with the usual anticipation, but you can feel the clock ticking in your mind, each passing moment heightening the tension in your chest. Glen is nominated for Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture—Musical or Comedy, and the weight of the moment is starting to sink in.

You can feel your nerves rising with each passing category. With each announcement, the tightness in your chest grows as you anxiously glance down at your program, running your fingers over the pages in a distracted rhythm. Every now and then, Glen’s hand brushes against yours, either adjusting his position or offering an unspoken gesture of comfort. When his fingers meet yours, it’s as if the connection between you both is the only thing that grounds you amidst the flashing lights and the build-up.

The host’s voice rings out again, announcing the next presenters. You force yourself to take a slow breath, trying to calm the flutter of nerves that’s started to settle deep in your stomach. You can’t help but glance up at Glen, who, despite the chaos and the nerves building up inside him, is still looking at you with that same steady calmness. His eyes meet yours, soft but intense, and he gives you a small, quiet smile.

“You good?” he asks under his breath, his voice barely audible over the hum of the audience.

You nod, though you’re not sure if you believe it yourself. “Yeah, just a little anxious,” you admit quietly, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your program.

Glen gives you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder and leans in closer. “You’re doing great,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “Remember I’m right here.”

His voice is a steady comfort, and for a moment, you let yourself relax into it, but the closer you get to the moment of the award announcement, the harder it is to ignore the nerves prickling in your chest. You try not to let it show, but it’s impossible to ignore the fact that your whole body seems to tense with every name called.

The tension is almost unbearable as the next award category is announced. You can feel your heart beating faster as the presenter walks to the podium, the lights dimming slightly on the stage as the camera pans over the audience. You glance at Glen, your hand still lightly resting on his knee, both of you anxiously waiting for the moment to unfold.

The announcer opens the envelope, a brief pause lingering in the air, and then the name is spoken.

“Sebastian Stan.”

The name hit you like a soft punch to the gut. You’d been hoping, praying that Glen’s name would be called. But it’s not.

You exhale, the breath you’d been holding escaping in a slow, almost deflated sigh as the applause fills the room. Everyone around you begins clapping, but you feel a heavy weight settle in the pit of your stomach. You try to join in, your hands moving in sync with the crowd, but it feels automatic, hollow.

Glen’s gaze shifts downward as he claps politely, a professional smile plastered on his face. The joy that had been there moments ago, when he’d been watching others celebrate, is now gone. You notice the subtle slump of his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens just slightly. It’s so faint, but you see it—his disappointment, quiet and swift.

Without hesitation, you place a gentle hand on his knee, your fingers curling softly around the fabric of his suit. It’s a quiet gesture, one that says everything without words.

Leaning in closer, you whisper just for him. “I’m still so proud of you,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “This doesn’t change anything. You’ve had an incredible year.”

His eyes flicker to you for a moment, and though his smile is still warm, there’s a shadow of something behind it. He nods, as if trying to convince himself. 

“Yeah,” he says quietly, voice carrying the faintest hint of regret. “It’s all right.”

The cameras still hover near your table, and Glen turns slightly, giving his trademark charm for the audience, though you can see the subtle strain in the movement. It’s a mask, and you know it.

But then, just as quickly as the moment of disappointment had settled in, he shrugs it off, the professional smile back in place. He straightens his shoulders and waves at the camera as if nothing’s wrong.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, your thumb brushing gently against the back of his hand, offering him one more piece of quiet support. “You’ve worked so hard. This is just the beginning.”

Glen looks at you, his eyes softening, and he offers a genuine, albeit faint, smile. “I know. It’s just... I’ve wanted this for so long.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and in that instant, you both share a fleeting connection—one of understanding, of being on the same page. You see past the façade, knowing the true weight of his disappointment.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of applause, speeches, and glimmering smiles, but the air feels different now. Glen seems to slip back into his polished, charming self, laughing with others and posing for photos as if nothing had happened. But you know him too well. Every now and then, when the laughter dies down or when the lights shift in a way that makes everything feel softer, you catch glimpses of that quiet vulnerability he’s tried to hide.

You continue to offer him your presence, your unwavering support. Your hand resting on the top of his hand which rests on his thigh, fingers gently tracing the skin on the back of his hand during the dull moments between awards. You don’t need to say anything—he knows you’re there. And though he’s the one in the spotlight, it’s in these moments when you share the unspoken strength that makes you feel so connected.

The show drags on, the anticipation building as the categories shift, and eventually, the evening winds down to its final moments. You barely notice the presenter’s voice over the soft murmur of your own thoughts, a quiet hum of gratitude settling in your chest. Glen may not have won tonight, but you know—this isn’t the end for him. Not even close.

When the final award is presented, everyone stands in applause, their excitement contagious, but you find yourself leaning back into the comfort of the moment. Glen’s hand, warm and steady on your back, guides you as you both move toward the exit, his parents trailing behind you.

You glance over at him—his face now a perfect mask of grace and poise. His earlier disappointment seems to have faded into the evening's glow. And though you know it might still sting for him later, for now, you’re here. Together. And that’s all that matters.

After the award show ends, Glen gives you a small, reassuring smile as you both make your way toward his parents, who are chatting with a few other guests near the exit. You and Glen share a brief exchange of looks—silent understanding passing between you before you approach them.

“Well, I think it’s time to say goodnight,” Glen says, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of exhaustion as he hugs his mom first, then his dad.

You follow his lead, offering a warm hug to Cyndy and Glen Sr., both of whom have been incredibly supportive all night. You exchange a few words, with his mom offering you a knowing smile and his dad patting Glen on the back, offering him a quiet “You did good, son. We're proud of you.”

Once the goodbyes are said, Glen takes your hand, leading you away from his parents to a quieter corner.

“Let’s get this night wrapped up,” he says with a grin, pulling you gently toward the after-party.

The after-party is lively but not too overbearing. The usual crowd of actors, producers, and influencers circulate the room, laughing and enjoying the last moments of the night. Glen and you share a few casual conversations with some of his industry friends, but the two of you stay close, mostly content in each other's presence.

You don’t stay long. Glen’s energy is starting to dip, and you can see the weight of the night catching up to him. When he whispers that he’s ready to leave, you’re more than ready to head back to the hotel as well.

As the elevator doors close behind you, the sounds of the bustling venue fade, replaced by the soft hum of the ride up. You catch Glen glancing at you from the corner of your eye, a soft smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“You were great tonight,” you say quietly, your voice a soft reassurance.

He shrugs, but the smile never fades. “It’s just part of the job.”

As you and Glen exit the elevator, the hallway feels quieter, almost like a contrast to the energy of the evening. The weight of the night—of the red carpet, the award show, the after-party—seems to melt away as you make your way down the hall toward your hotel room.

Glen’s hand is warm around yours, but you can feel the slight tension in his shoulders, the exhaustion settling in now that the cameras are no longer flashing and the attention is no longer on him. His smile, though still present, is more tired than it had been earlier. You can tell he’s ready to unwind, just the two of you.

Reaching the door, Glen digs into his pocket for the room key, the soft click of the lock echoing in the quiet hallway. As the door swings open, the familiar scent of the room hits you—slightly musty, but comforting, like the feeling of stepping back into a private space after a long, public day.

He holds the door open for you, letting you walk in first, before following closely behind. The room is dimly lit, the night sky outside casting a soft glow through the windows. You drop your clutch on the bed, watching as Glen kicks off his shoes with a tired sigh.

You turn to face him, standing there for a moment, both of you silently taking in the quiet that fills the room. Glen moves toward you, his hands finding yours, pulling you gently toward him.

“I’m glad you were here tonight,” he says softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

You smile up at him, the flicker of pride you feel for him still alive in your chest. “I wouldn’t have been anywhere else.”

Glen’s lips quirk into a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead, he steps closer, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, as if silently thanking you for being his anchor. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply like he’s finally allowing himself to relax fully. The warmth of his breath against your temple sends a shiver through you.

Then, he lifts his head and looks at you, his hazel eyes holding something deeper. He reaches up, tilting your chin with his thumb and forefinger so you meet his gaze fully.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispers, his voice low, almost hesitant, like he’s afraid you’ll say no.

Your chest tightens at his vulnerability, and you smile softly, shaking your head.

“Of course,” you whisper. Truthfully, you hadn’t planned on sleeping in your own room anyway.

His shoulders relax slightly at your answer, and his lips curve into a grateful smile. He brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering at your temple.

“Come on,” he murmurs, his voice still low, intimate. “Let’s take a shower.”

You nod, letting him guide you toward the bathroom. The sound of the water turning on fills the space as Glen leans over to adjust the temperature. Steam begins to curl in the air, softening the edges of the brightly lit room.

Turning back to you, Glen steps closer, his hands finding your waist. His velvet jacket is the first to go. You reach up, your fingers brushing against his shoulders as you slide it off. It drops to the floor in a heap, revealing his silk shirt underneath. Slowly, your hands move to the buttons, undoing each one with care.

As you work, Glen leans down, pressing soft kisses along your lips, jawline and down your neck. The gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin sends a shiver through you, but the moment isn’t rushed. It’s deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of closeness he missed earlier.

“You have no idea how badly I wanted to touch you all night,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You pause for a moment, your hands resting on his chest, and look up at him with a small smile. “I think I might have an idea,” you tease softly, earning a quiet laugh from him.

Once you’ve finished unbuttoning his shirt, he shrugs it off in one smooth motion, letting it pool on the cool tiled floor beside his jacket. Then, his hands find your hips, and he gently spins you around. His fingers trace the line of the zipper on your dress, slowly sliding it down. The fabric loosens, slipping over your hips and down your body until it gathers at your feet.

Glen wraps his arms around your bare midsection, pulling you back against his chest. He presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder, his lips soft and warm against your skin.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, before moving to press another kiss to your neck. “I love you.”

Your breath catches at his words, and you rest your hands over his where they’re wrapped around you.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water.

After a moment, he releases you, stepping back so you can both finish undressing. Once you’re both bare, Glen takes your hand in his, his fingers intertwining with yours, and leads you into the shower. The warm water cascades over your skin, washing away the remnants of the long evening.

Inside the glass enclosure, it’s just the two of you, cocooned in the sound of the rushing water and the heat that envelopes you both. Glen reaches for the shampoo, lathering it in his hands before gently running them through the strands of your hair. His touch is slow and deliberate.

“You’re too good to me,” you murmur as he works the product into your scalp further.

He pauses, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looks at you. “Not even close,” he replies softly.

You turn your head to look at him, and his eyes hold yours for a long moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to show you how much you mean to me.”

Your throat tightens at his words, and you reach up, brushing a damp strand of hair out of his face. “You already do,” you whisper.

For the rest of the shower, there’s no rush, no urgency—just the quiet, intimate exchange of touch and unspoken promises. By the time you step out and wrap yourselves in the plush hotel robes, the connection between you somehow feels even stronger, solidified by the quiet moments you’ve shared.

Steam still lingers in the air as the two of you step out of the bathroom, freshly showered and relaxed. You pad over to your suitcase, rifling through it for something to wear, but instead of choosing one of your own shirts, you make your way to Glen’s bag. Pulling out one of his well-worn t-shirts, you slip it over your head, the familiar scent of him enveloping you. You pair it with your favorite underwear and turn to see Glen already pulling on a pair of black boxers, his hair still damp and curling slightly at the edges.

He glances at you and his lips curve into a small, tired smile. “Looks better on you,” he murmurs, nodding toward his shirt. You roll your eyes playfully but can’t help the warmth that blooms in your chest. 

The two of you crawl onto the plush mattress, settling in side by side. The headboard provides a comfortable backrest as Glen grabs the remote and flicks on the TV, aimlessly scrolling through channels. The faint glow of the screen fills the otherwise dimly lit room, but neither of you are paying much attention to what’s on.

A comfortable silence settles between you, the kind that only comes with familiarity. Without a word, Glen shifts, leaning over to lay his head on your lap. His strong arms wrap loosely around your waist, anchoring himself to you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. He exhales deeply, his breath warm against your leg, and you feel the tension in his body begin to melt away.

Instinctively, your fingers find their way to his hair, gently combing through the damp strands. He sighs at the touch, the sound soft and vulnerable, and it makes your chest tighten. You know Glen is always composed in public, but here, in the quiet of the hotel room, he lets his guard down.

For a while, he doesn’t say anything, just holds onto you like he needs the connection to keep himself steady. You can feel the weight of the evening still lingering in the air between you, though. It’s not just physical exhaustion; it’s the emotional toll of the night—the highs and lows, the constant smiling, the conversations that required too much energy.

Finally, Glen breaks the silence, his voice low and raw. “It was a lot, you know?” he murmurs, his face still pressed against your lap. “The whole day… the prep, the red carpet, the cameras… smiling so much my face hurt. And then sitting there, waiting for them to call my name.”

You hum softly in acknowledgment, your fingers never faltering in their soothing motions through his hair. “It’s okay to feel disappointed, you know. You worked so hard. Anyone would feel the same.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his grip on your waist tightening slightly.

“It’s not even about winning,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think… I think it’s just everything leading up to it. The expectations, the pressure. And then when they didn’t call my name, it was like all of that hit me at once.”

You glance down at him, his face partially hidden in the soft fabric of your borrowed t-shirt.

“It’s okay to feel this way, Glen,” you say softly, your voice full of reassurance. “You don’t always have to be the strong one.”

He shifts slightly, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before he buries his face back against you.

“I just hate feeling like I let everyone down. My parents, the team that worked on this movie with me…” His voice trails off, and you can feel the vulnerability in his words.

“You didn’t let anyone down,” you say firmly, your tone leaving no room for doubt. “Your parents are proud of you. I’m proud of you. I know Richard and Adria and the rest of the team that worked on this are proud of you too. Being nominated is a huge accomplishment, and everyone knows how much work you put into this.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but you feel him relax a little more against you. Your fingers continue their rhythmic motion through his hair, and the tension in his body seems to dissolve with every gentle stroke. The room is quiet except for the soft murmur of the TV in the background and the even sound of his breathing.

“You make everything better,” he finally whispers, his voice so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

You smile softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Glen doesn’t say anything else, but his arms tighten around you, holding you close like you’re his anchor in the storm. And in that moment, you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be—right here, grounding him when he needs it most.

[pencil-n-pen]

SPILL YOUR GUTS

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

practice boyfriend! eddie x fem! reader

summary: eddie’s your practice boyfriend. you’re positive he’s upset at you and you’re waiting for him to get mad. however, he has a different response in mind.

cw: references/allusions to past child abuse but extremely vague, references/allusions to bad relationships (also pretty vague), reader acts on a learned response and assumes the worst about Eddie, anxiety

tags/tropes: angst, hurt/comfort (my brand!) sappy sappy romantic idiots, they kiss and figure their mess out at the end

a/n: this came to me in a vision

summary makes this sound smutty but i promise it’s not. this accidentally became disgustingly romantic. read at your own risk :)

࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

You’re positive Eddie’s mad at you.

Okay. Maybe positive is a strong word. But still.

You’ve only been fake/pretend/practice dating Eddie for about two weeks now. He’s the one who approached you with the offer— when you were in the Upside Down together, you’d made an off-hand comment about how you might die without ever having a real boyfriend- not one that mattered, anyway. It’s always kind of been a sore spot for you for a good portion of your life. Growing up, you didn’t really have the best relationship with your dad (Robin likes to call that “The understatement of the year, and we almost died.”) and out of the incredibly small handful of guys you’ve gone out with, none stuck around longer than a month and all ended in such equally, specifically, and uniquely horrific ways, you finally came to the conclusion you had to be fucking something up. What are the chances of all them ended so completely horribly?

After you all had decidedly not died in the Upside Down, Eddie approached you with an offer: pretend date him. You’re popular and well known enough that it’ll help get people off his back about the whole Chrissy/murders thing —even though he’s been absolved of all charges, the people of Hawkins hold grudges— and in exchange, you get a trial run of a relationship that won’t end unless you both agree too— you get to figure out what you’re doing wrong.

You feel bad about it, because even though you spend so much time together, you feel like a nervous wreck. All. The. Time.

You’re constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop— waiting for him to tell you that you’re too weird, that you’re not considerate enough, that you’re selfish, or that you talk too much.

But he never says any of it. All he ever tells you is the good things. He tells you how sympathetic you are, how kind you are, how good you are at remembering little details that matter. He tells you that you’re a good kisser.

(Yeah. Your first kiss, even after those failed relationships, ended up being with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. You’re not quite sure you’ll ever forget how you felt when his lips —just a little cracked, but not rough— met yours; when his hair tickled your face and you could faintly smell the cigarette smoke that stubbornly clings to all of his clothes, no matter how many times he washes them. You didn’t tell him he was your first. That’s something you decided you couldn’t bear to share.

You kind of have a feeling he knows anyway, though.)

It all sets you on edge. You’re under no reassurance that you’re perfect. You’re currently questioning if you’re tolerable, from a romantic standpoint.

You know how you are. You’re clinging and you drink up reassurance like a dying man in the desert. You linger in his casual touches like it’s the first and last time you’ll ever feel them. You know you’re a lot. You know. You know that guys in a relationship don’t want ‘a lot’, they want a pretty thing to hang off their arm and laugh at what they say.

But you just… can’t.

You tried, and you tried, and you tried. But you always ended up being too much, or it didn’t work out for some other reason. You want more. You want to feel safe, and happy, and cherished and loved and all those things that only happen in the movies.

The ironic part of all of this is that when you first started setting out terms for your arrangement, Eddie had told you flat out: “This will only work if you are completely and one-hundred percent yourself. You gotta lay it all on me, angel.”

And so you had, and now you regret it because he’s upset about something.

You’d come over to his trailer at his request to ‘hang out’ while he went over DND stuff for his next campaign. Eddie does this a lot— he calls them ‘Neutral Dates’ where you’re not really doing anything in particular- most of the time, you’re both doing seperate things, but still just being in each other’s presence.

It’s nice. The majority of your friend circle consists of everyone involved with the Upside Down and that entire mess. You two are no Steve and Robin (you’re convinced those two have the kind of bond no one can replicate or break. Like the kind of bond stray cats get and then they have to be adopted together) but it’s still nice. To just be with someone.

Even if you feel like you’re walking on eggshells.

It’s not always eggshells. Sometimes, for a a few moments, you forget. You forget it’s all pretend. You forget he’s just a friend helping a friend fulfill a goal. That’s all.

You’ve almost forgotten just now, too— you’re too concerned about what you might’ve done.

He’s not acting angry, per-se, but he’s definitely upset. You tend to pick up on this kind of thing: small changes in someone’s personality or body language. Most of the time it’s not a conscious habit.

Most of the time.

Right now, he’s run his hands through his hair about a million times. It’s become a frizzy mess behind him, and when you’d made an offhand joke about it —an attempt to lighten the mood— all he’d done was scowl. Not at you, really, but the message was there. You’d snapped your jaw shut so fast you’re pretty sure he heard your teeth click.

After that he’d frustratedly made tea for the both of you, which consisted of opening the cupboards faster than he usually did, closing them slightly louder than he usually does, and drumming his fingers impatiently on the stove-top while he waited for the kettle to boil.

All of this you observed from the corner of your eye while ‘reading’ on the couch.

And if all of that wasn’t bad enough, when you’d finally mustered up the courage to speak again, a little joke about a part in the book you were reading, all he’d said was a flat:

“That’s great, babe.”

You’re starting to get antsy. Nervous. Maybe you should go? Unless he gets upset at you leaving. That would be bad. But he’s clearly upset with you being here, so maybe you should go.

While you’re debating the pros and cons of leaving, you try to remain as still and silent as possible. No need to upset him anymore by moving too much or being too loud.

You flip a page in the book you’re no longer reading (he might notice you’re not paying attention to it anymore) and decide to test the waters again.

“The author just spelled restaurant wrong. That’s the third spelling mistake I’ve caught in this book.”

“Hmm.”

Okay. So that was worse. Talking to him is out of the question, then. It must be something you did, to warrant this kind of reaction.

You wrack your brain, trying to think of anything you could’ve done in recent hours to make him upset, but you can’t think of anything.

You glance slightly to the right— not far enough that he’ll see you looking at him, but far enough to get a better look at him in your peripheral. He’s glaring down at his campaign notebook. Shit, he looks so angry.

Unbidden, tears begin to well in your eyes and you try to shift, trying to angle yourself away from him enough that he can’t see the tears in your eyes.

But your hand shifts, knocking into his leg.

Fuck. “Sorry!”

You yank you arm back as if burned, jolting back on the couch so you’re in no danger of touching him. “I’m sorry!”

He sits up, immediately snapping to attention at the desperation coloring your voice. “Woah woah, hey. Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

You take a steadying breath. “Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks blankly at you. Oh shit, you’re supposed to know that you’ve done something wrong.

“I mean,” You hurry to correct, “I know I— Can you tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it?”

Understanding floods his features and you brace yourself, ready for the reprimand.

“Can I touch you?”

Now it’s your turn to stare with confusion. You nod once, briefly thinking about how weird it is to ask for permission first.

He sits up on the couch, facing you with his legs crossed, the couch springs squeaking loudly at his movement. You resist the urge to wince. He reaches out with a slow hand, taking the hand that’s still clenched, held away from him and up near your chest.

He stares down at your hand, holding it with his left hand and tracing delicate shapes on it with his right. His ringed fingers drag lines around your knuckles and veins, lingering occasionally over the odd, old scar.

“How long did you think I was upset with you?”

Your heart is racing, muscles tensed and ready to bolt. “Um. A few hours? Maybe?”

You’re hyper-aware of the grip he has on your hand, and how quickly and easy it could become crushing.

It doesn’t.

“Bug,” He says slowly after a moment. At first he used to use pet names as a joke— it was something you’d laugh at, between the two of you, since the relationship wasn’t real.

But recently, he’s been saying them with a different inflection in his tone. A little less teasing, a lot more fond.

“Have you spent the past few hours afraid that I was mad at you?”

He sounds… sad. Which is confusing. It doesn’t— he was. He was.

“But you were,” You say, suddenly unsure about anything and everything. “You were upset.”

“I was upset because I couldn’t work this part of the campaign out, and i’m dramatic. I was never mad at you, honey. I was never mad at you.”

You frown, gears turning in your head. “When I made that joke about your hair, you glared at me. And then when I tried to talk to you, you were upset. You didn’t want to talk.”

“I was jokingly glaring at you, I’m so sorry you thought I was serious. I wasn’t, I promise. I didn’t mean to be dismissive, I was really focusing on writing.”

You’re both silent for a moment. A beat too long. You want to squirm in the unwelcome space the silence has created.

“What did you think I was going to do?”

That is a loaded question.

“I don’t know,” You pick at a loose thread on the couch cushion. “I don’t— I don’t know. That’s the problem. You don’t yell at me, or get angry, or tell me when i’ve made you upset. I don’t know what you’ll do.”

He makes a wounded noise in his throat.

“I know you get angry,” You bulldoze on, “I’ve seen it. You’re so… loud, in everything you do. I know you get angry. But you never get that same kind of loud angry at me and I don’t know what to do because that means that I upset you and you don’t tell me about it and then I don’t know how to fix it. I have to fix it, Eddie.”

His eyes, deep and brown, search your face. He reaches up a hand, painfully slow, to cup your face. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you tip your head to the side, leaning into the job.

“I’m gonna tell you something, Bug. Are you listening?” He waits for you to hum in confirmation before continuing. “You’re not responsible for my moods. Or anyone else’s for that matter. That’s not your job. You don’t have to fix it.”

He reaches his second hand up to cup the other side of your face. “You know why I don’t get angry at you? Not all loud and dramatic like that? Because I’ve seen how you react when people do. And I never, ever want to be the reason you get that look in your eye. I never want to make you afraid. I never want you to believe, with proof and confidence, that I’ve grown sick of you.”

You open your eyes, eyes darting across the planes of his face. Searching for even the smallest hint, the smallest giveaway that he might be lying.

You can’t find any. In its place, you find eyes, shining with pure determination. You find lips parted ever so slightly, a sad-sort of smile being etched into being. You find two hands on your face, thumbs delicately sweeping across the skin of your under-eye, of your cheekbone. Smoothing away the steady tears that had begun falling, wiping away the hot trails they leave on your face.

And you realize all at once that love isn’t like the movies. It isn’t picture-perfect kisses. It isn’t ball gowns and dresses and kisses in the rain. It isn’t like the love you thought you were supposed to have: empty and hollow; a life of hanging off of arms and praying your next slip-up didn’t cost you your relationship.

It was this.

It was just being. Just being and knowing the other person is there for just that— for you. It was not raising your voice. It was carrying extra hair-ties. It was making two cups of coffee. It was steeping tea for an extra couple of minutes, just the way he liked it. It was playing your favorite music in the car, and looking over at each other during the bridge, belting the lyrics with the same, toothy-smile. So full and so happy you just keep screaming the lyrics, because you’re filled with so much you don’t know where to put it all.

Your tears begin to fall in earnest now. Your heart is thudding in your chest, but for a different reason now. You’re struck with the need to convey all of this to him— to tell him you understand, you know, you feel the same.

“These hair ties,” You shove your wrist up to his eye-line. “They’re for you. Because you always forget your own. And— and I steep the tea for a few extra minutes, because you like your tea strong, and you didn’t just find that tape in your van, I bought it ‘cause I know you lost the old one in the Upside Down, ‘cause it felt out of your pocket.”

You’re babbling, nearly choking on your tears and your words, rushing them all out of your mouth in an aching wish to be understood, in this very moment.

“I know,” He says, voice a little hysteric and eyes a little too bright. His lip wobbles. He presses your face tighter in his hands. “I know. I know. I see you. I see you.”

You stay like that for a little while. At some point, your hands find his wrists, and then you’re just two fools, smiling like idiots with tears streaming down your faces, staring into each others eyes.

Eventually, Eddie clears his throat. “The next time you think I’m upset at you, you tell me, okay? You can ask. You can ask me and I pinky promise I won’t get mad.”

You giggle wetly. “Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear,” He says, taking his left hand away from your face to hold up his pinky. You intertwine yours and his together, the both of you laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

He gets quiet for a moment; removes his hands from your face and instead clasps, your hands together, resting in your lap.

“You know why I never tell you when you’re being a bad practice girlfriend?” He says, his voice low and soft.

“How come?”

He smiles, full and good. “Because you’re not. You’re so sweet and kind and loving. And if you’d let me, I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

You furrow your brows. “The real kind? The I-love-you kind?”

Your face flushes over the words ‘I love you.’

“I’ve always kissed you for real,” He says, words laden with fondness. “Ever since the day we met and you slapped the shit out of me for being stupid. I’ve been hopelessly obsessed ever since. I’ve just been waiting for you to notice.”

You suck in a breath. “So all of this— the, the dates and the hanging out and the kissing— that’s all been real?”

“Every last bit.”

“Then in that case,” You say, squeezing his hands. “I would very much like you to kiss me.”

He leans in, slotting your lips together and everything just clicks. Like this is where you’re meant to be. Maybe it’s puppy love. Maybe it’s not.

All you know is that Eddie Munson is kissing you for real, and he always has been. You couldn’t ask for anything better.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[wannabanauthor]

What if Tommy and Eddie discussed the breakup, and it goes from serious to funny?

So Eddie goes to Tommy's house and is like "I'm here to check on you, let's get a beer."

Tommy tries to refuse, but Eddie says, "You broke my best friend's heart, so the least you could do is explain your reasoning to me."

Tommy reluctantly goes. After a few beers, he starts rambling.

"I fucked up, and I don't know how to fix it or even if I should fix it. I was falling in love with him, and it snuck up on me. I didn't expect for it to get more serious," Tommy says. "I thought it was just going to be fun for awhile, and we'd go our separate ways."

"Your second date with him was to his sister's wedding," Eddie points out.

"Oh so sue me! It's not my fault I caved. He gave me these pleading puppy eyes, and I found myself agreeing."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Well, if you never expected it to get serious and didn't want it to get serious, then why haven't you found your rebound yet? It's been weeks. Even Chimney and Maddie are telling Buck to start dating again."

Tommy groans into his hands and then rubs his temples. "Fucking traitors."

"Well, I know this hot priest-"

"Been there, done that," Tommy says and takes a swig of his beer.

Eddie looks at him with a bewildered look on his face. "What?"

"What?" Tommy responds with a shrug. "I was raised Catholic. Guilt about sexuality is easy to spot, but he made the first move."

"Do I even want to know how?"

"Ever had sex in a confession booth?"

Eddie's eyes are wide and horrified. "Please don't tell me-"

"It was an old booth in storage, but it was still pretty hot. Once I admitted to myself that I was gay, I had a lot of catching up to do."

Then Tommy goes quiet and gets sad again. "I'll never meet another Evan in my life. I think he's ruined me for other men."

"Don't say that. While, I prefer you two together, you can always find someone else."

Tommy snorts in disbelief. "Yeah, not gonna happen. At least when it comes to sex. His adorable face and cheery smile haunt my dreams, and his proficiency with dick makes it impossible for me to get it up even when watching porn."

"Oh no, I need more alcohol for this," Eddie says and orders some shots.

He and Tommy go through a couple of them.

Tommy's tongue gets looser. "His dick is fantastic. Perfect length, thickness, and stamina. I know my body pretty well, and let me tell you, the prostate orgasms from him were out of this world. I barely lasted five minutes before coming just from him fucking me."

Eddie is drunk enough that he's not even fazed.

"Not to mention he has this slight curve that makes him hit the spot every time, and goddamn, I miss that dick and the dork attached to it," Tommy continues. "He made me feel comfortable and safe and cherished. Being around him was effortless, mostly, and I miss him so much."

Tommy starts sniffling, and then tears roll down his cheeks. "Fuck, I don't want to cry."

Eddie puts a comforting hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Call him. He's a mess and miserable without you. He's been baking so much that the entire station's hemoglobin A1C levels are pre-diabetic. We had to force him to focus on savory cooking."

Tommy shakes his head. "He doesn't want to hear from me. I broke his heart. I'm the last person that should be contacting him."

"He does want to hear from you. He's only been baking and cooking so much to stop himself from contacting you because he wants to give you space and respect your boundaries post-breakup."

"What would I even say? That I panicked and ran? I told him he would break my heart if we moved in together. There's no coming back from that."

Eddie sighs and sets his drink down. "Listen, the first time you ended things with Buck, I told him he was an idiot but to call you anyway. Now it's your turn to be the idiot. Go get your man back. Call him. Talk to him. He'd settle for a text. Just do something! You both are suffering without each other. You don't have to move in with him. He just wants you back in his life."

More tears run down Tommy's face and it turns into full sobs. Eddie scoots closer to him and gives him a hug. Tommy clings to him, sobbing even harder.

After drinks, they stop by a taco place and sober up while eating delicious birria tacos. They go back to Tommy's place, and Eddie sleeps on the couch just to make sure Tommy is alright. Before he falls asleep, he texts Buck.

"If Tommy contacts you, go easy on him. He's an idiot too."

When Tommy wakes up the next morning, he nearly stops breathing when he sees that Evan texted him.

"I miss you." was all it said.

Tommy cradles his phone in his hands for several minutes before pressing the call button. He holds his breath until Evan answers.

"I miss you too," Tommy says.

[hwnglx]

pick a pile - your ideal type vs. your future spouse

hi dear reader! i thought of an idea where i could look into how you guys' ideal types compare to your future lovers. note that this is a general reading, so not everything will resonate with everyone! breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. remember to take what resonates, and let the rest flow. 𓆩♡𓆪

⋆˚࿔ pile 1 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

your ideal type

in your romantic partners, you're looking for a best friend.

someone you can cheerfully celebrate the highs in your life with. a person who will be able to bring you a sense of joy and happiness in life.

it's likely you want someone who's like your good luck charm. they brighten up your life in the most pleasant ways, and are able to provide you with the feeling of positivity and bliss.

you know when these special people enter your life, and all of a sudden everything becomes more enjoyable. because of their presence in your life, things are fun again.

you want someone who will be a source of inspiration, and support for you. a person who can uplift and motivate you in the most rewarding manner.

i keep getting this feeling, you'd want your person to be someone who has this profound impact, where just talking to them can ease your mind and light up your day.

you'd want to have a lover whose voice brings you comfort, whose encouraging words become your source of confidence, whose presence gives you the feeling of enjoying to be alive.

i can sense you seeking to find this comfortable feeling of home in your lovers. someone whose warmth can make you feel safe, and secure.

i believe you're a person who's very introspective, someone who's constantly on this journey of self-discovery.

therefore you'd like a partner who will be supportive, and accompany you on that journey; someone who will be your companion in life, and help you understand yourself better.

you'd like an individual who will help you heal, grow, discover and proudly embrace your best, most confident self. someone whose positive energy is contagious and helps you thrive.

you want your lover to be reliable and resilient. someone you can lean on with no second thoughts. who will be there for you no matter what. a person who will take you with everything that you come with, and still remain loyal and devoted to you.

a person who, although they're passionate, knows how to control their temper, won't be discouraged by tough times, and remain committed and persevering, regardless of struggles you might go through together. you want your lover to be a like a rock in your life.

you do want someone who is fiery, powerful, charismatic, self-assured, knows what they want. you're likely to be drawn to people who have fire energy; a strong presence. people who are aware of their worth, and whose attendance can't be missed once they step into a room. but you don't want your partner to be too full of themselves, overbearing, or too intense.

you want them to be mature, trustworthy and responsible. a person you can build a stable, comfortable and secure, but also playful and joyous relationship with.

your future spouse

so, one aspect which you'll probably like to hear; your fs is likely to be quite mature, possibly older than you in age.

they're pretty powerful, disciplined and steady. the first impression they have on people, is likely to be quite strong.

they aren't a person who's overly emotional at first glance, and moreso carry themselves in an emotionally reserved and controlled manner.

your fs for sure has strong leadership qualities to them. they're good at commanding attention and demanding respect from the people around them. it's the type of energy that makes everyone in the room shut up, once they speak up. to note, they could also be quite stubborn, and opinionated at times.

another significant aspect though, is that they're immensely supportive and generous towards their loved ones.

this is a person who's likely to have a heart that is much more compassionate than what meets the eye. someone who, although they aren't always immensely expressive when it comes to their feelings, has a true heart for people in need.

your future lover is someone who's giving and generous. i can see their love languages leaning towards the acts of service and giving gifts side.

this person has a strong sense of justice, they're likely to be very fairminded. they don't like disharmony, and will be there to help out the underdog if they feel like they're being treated in an unjust manner.

i can see this person surprising people with how nice they can actually be, because they usually seem so serious, more stern and intimidating on the outside.

this is also a person, who values harmony and stability in their relationships, especially in their family-life. a person who fosters an atmosphere, that's secure and comfortable. i can sense them possibly being closely tied to their families.

if you get to know this person in a deeper manner, you'll take note of how they exude warmth, and a vibe that's very inviting and comforting, when they're around the people they love. someone vibrant who can easily be the center of attention.

it's kinda giving the family's favorite son (note; their energy is quite masculine) who everyone runs to greet, once they enter the room. a popular, charming and well-liked person whose energy can light the atmosphere up in a lively manner.

what's interesting, is that i did get the four of wands for both your ideal type, and your future spouse.

so, it's highly likely for them to be able to fulfill this wish you have, of finding a person who not only makes you feel comfortable and at ease, but also genuinely happy. like you've finally arrived at home once you're in their arms.

⋆˚࿔ pile 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

your ideal type

you're giving me wise, mindful and cautious energy. it does seem like you are someone who prefers testing the waters before jumping into relationships.

you're likely to collect information on people first, before fully giving in.. as in getting to know them thoroughly. by doing that, you're trying to get a good understanding of their character, and whether you can see them being a valuable addition to your life.

there's this observant energy to you, where you can take note of the smallest details in people. you probably like it when others are also able to compliment you on the small things not everyone would notice, like e.g. the perfume you're wearing that day.

you value mental compatibility. you want a person who's smart, fun, quick-witted, clever. someone you can have interesting, thought-provoking and intriguing conversations with. discussions that range from complex and profound ones that make you reflect, to playful ones that make you laugh.

you like honesty, and transparency. you don't want someone who will beat around the bush, walk on eggshells, or give you any mixed and confusing signals. you desire a trustworthy person who can be straightforward, and open with you.

a big focus here, is on expansion and transformation.

you'd like a person who will help you explore, as well as expand. especially mind-wise, by talking about subjects that make you introspect.

i don't think you mind your lover being very different to you, whether that's culturally, ethnically, language-wise or opinion-wise. on the contrary, you seem to believe that views, beliefs or mindsets that are different to yours to a degree, can have significant impact on your life, and help you evolve, which is why you're likely to welcome it.

there just needs to be compatibility when it comes to the path you're aiming to go down in the future. in your eyes, there does need to be a certain alignment in values, objectives and intentions, in order for the connection to work out.

you want a partner whose existence, rather than becoming a presence that distracts you from the important things in life, will help you be more self-aware.

you want someone who can help you transform and thrive into your best self. a presence that finally makes things seem clearer, and helps you feel whole, happy, warm and complete.

it's this feeling of “being with this person feels right. this is who i'm supposed to be with. their presence is healthy for me and my journey. instead of sidetracking me from my life-path, this is a person who will be supportive of me, and willingly hold my hand while i'm trying to heal from the past and understand what's right for my own life.”

again, i don't see you rushing into your relationships.

you're someone who looks at healthy connections developing in a slow pace, but steadily.

you want a person who will be patient, conscious and consistent in the effort they invest into the maintaining the security of the relationship, and taking things step by step.

some of you might've gone through some negative experiences in regards to relationships; not just romantic ones, but human connections in general. this might've caused you to become more wary and careful about how to proceed.

at this point, you've become adamant on making sure you don't let anyone into your life, who will bring any unwanted and unwelcomed negativity, that only drags you down.

a lot of focus on true happiness and fulfillment here too. you desire a person who can enrich and brighten your life, and keep your spirits high. someone who brings you a sense of joy.

you want to make sure you're with someone mature, righteous and self-aware, who makes healthy choices in life, is sure of what they want, and doesn't play games.

what it boils down to, is you liking someone who takes the relationship as seriously as you do.

this pile is giving scorpio/virgo/gemini/mercury energy

your future spouse

so first of all, i can see your future spouse being air-dominant. they're definitely big thinkers; someone who mostly functions with their mind, and bases a lot of their decisions on logic and rationality, instead of their emotions.

this is a person who's likely to match your desire for intellectual stimulation. they're funny and clever, very witty. likely to usually be quite blunt, and at times a little playfully snarky in the way they express themselves.

this pile definitely gave me the biggest “bickering” vibes. i feel like both you and your fs, are people who showcase their affection by teasing and provoking. it's giving this couple who bickers over trivial and little things. to others it might look like you're arguing all the time, but for you, it's the way you express fondness towards each other.

this person has such a continuously running and active mind, that they can be prone to overthinking and at times, diving into some problems way too deeply.

this is someone who's quite charismatic and attractive, i feel like they're physically good-looking. luscious hair, nice skin. perhaps more tan. great and blinding smile. good figure as well, they might be athletic, or at least look that way.

this person seems to have been through some impactful break-ups or separations before, which have messed their confidence up to a degree and transformed them. there were certain things they needed to let go of, and move on from.

one insight i keep getting, is your fs being someone who's much more dedicated, devoted and loyal to their romantic partners, than one would think at first impression.

i kept getting so many swords, but i couldn't shake this feeling there's a different side to them deep down. it just moreso seems buried down right now; i don't see it having many opportunities to come out, since i believe they're on more of an independent streak right now. and focused on healing before getting into another commitment.

so when i asked if they're out for longterm and committed relationships, i got the king of pentacles. this card represents a masculine and solid person who's stable, reliable, patient, faithful. they might not be the most extravagant and lovey dovey affectionate partner out there, but their devotion lies deep.

it's quite likely for their venus to be in an earth sign, perhaps taurus, or fall into the seventh house.

they do have a strong sense of responsibility, and are more self-aware than one would imagine. this person might come off differently, than they actually are deep inside. many people might misjudge or misunderstand them.

the type of person who everyone would look at as a player, when they're not. they might have a fire rising, actually. their energy kinda reminds me of jimin from bts, who's a libra sun and mercury, gemini moon, and sagittarius rising.

your fs isn't someone who just recklessly acts on a whim with no consideration for others and blindly lives according to their selfish instincts; but a person who does reflect about the impact their actions have on people, and can easily feel guilty for saying or doing the wrong thing at the wrong time.

again, there is something which gives them this harsh honesty in their communication. it's likely they aren't good at sugarcoating or attuning their words to anyone's emotions, so they might unintentionally rub some people wrong at times.

they're probably not very emotional themselves, so they could have trouble empathising with overly emotional individuals.

they mostly try to rationalize their feelings, because it can just.. get too overwhelming. your fs can have issues truly understanding what's going on inside of them.

they also give me the vibe of someone who might have the tendency to care a little too much about what people think, and get overly attached to people's opinions of them, though they probably wouldn't really like admitting this.

because of this, they're likely to moreso deal with their inner insecurities on their own, and putting on a “happier” facade than what actually goes on inside.

your future lover definitely seems like a person who's out for marriage. it's likely that it's one of their main objectives when it comes to their love life. finally finding a person they can make that everlasting promise to, and swear their eternal love to.

both, your fs and you, seem to be on journeys of healing past wounds right now. you have the potential to offer each other a lot of understanding and acceptance, since you do seem to share certain similarities, which can make for a deep bond.

just a gentle encouragement for you to not lose sight of your track and keep standing strong and tall, on your own two feet.

i feel that the universe is lying out the path for you two to meet, when divine timing deems you as ready.

note for this pile: i literally had a dream last night about a guy who matches the energy i got here so so well, and they were very charming and craaazy handsome.. they were speaking on the phone about something while laughing and sitting on a couch lol this is for sure someone talkative

⋆˚࿔ pile 3 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

your ideal type

worthy to note that this pile immediately, even before reading, gave me water energy.

i also kept feeling like i have my head in the clouds and am in a daze, i couldn't concentrate and focus as well while reading. a lot of you might have strong water placements, or significant neptune aspects. perhaps neptune in the first house?

i also got a lot of pentacles here, so you might feel yourself being drawn to earth placements. (thought of jay from enhypen who's a taurus stellium with a taurus venus and cancer moon, could see his energy matching you guys well)

anyhow, what you're looking for, is a partner who's fully focused on only you. someone who's gonna make you their world.. spoil you with thoughtful gifts, shower you with attention, turn you into the center of their universe.

you might even enjoy some possessiveness, and like the thought of your lover becoming jealous and territorial of you. you like the type of person who protectively keeps you at their side at all times, e.g. doesn't let go of your hand in public. you desire this feeling of security; like you're in the safest hands.

you want someone who will help you realize your true worth. a person who will strengthen your self-esteem.

you know this thing when you're dating someone, and there's this feeling of.. “wow, how does this person love me so much? guess i really must be something special”

you want someone to love you in such wonderful and profound ways, that it makes you become more aware of your value. someone whose perspective on you, makes you adjust yours as well. someone who looks at you as beautiful, which makes you feel beautiful.

you like people who are willing to fight for you. someone who's courageous, and not afraid of arguing or getting their hands dirty for you. you desire a lover who will place themselves in front of you in order to protect you fiercely. it is kinda giving this k-drama boyfriend who beats up other men once someone looks into the direction of their girl, lmao.

you're likely to enjoy the thought of having an older and more mature partner. perhaps someone taller than you in height, and broader than you in their build as well.

you want someone emotionally intelligent, who's empathetic. a person who's a calming and gentle listener. a lover who's more in control of their emotions and can therefore be a reliable figure in your life, that you can comfortably lean on.

you're a person who enjoys daydreaming, idealizing, fantasizing. it's likely you've already pictured and imagined what you'd want your perfect partner to be like several times and enjoy dreaming of your romantic 🥰✨ love story.

another insight i got, is that you're probably someone who enjoys the idea of taking pictures of your lovers, or getting your picture taken. making precious memories, taking these cute “pov” boyfriend/girlfriend material photos of each other, and both of you making it your lockscreen. sweet little signs of affection like that are likely to melt your heart.

you probably enjoy the thought of walking through the streets of beautiful and idyllic places together, maybe paris or tokyo with all the cherry blossoms, and feeling like you're on cloud nine together with your lover. i got reminded of how hyunjin and felix from skz used to walk around paris together with their cameras in their hands, and take pretty pictures of each other, like this.

you likely just love gently descending into this dream, of how lovely it could be if only you could spend enjoyable days like this together with your prince or princess charming.

the current transit of venus in pisces is definitely heightening this pile's energy

one thing i will say though, is that i do believe you wouldn't want your partner to completely sacrifice and drop everything for you. you'd like to have a lover who's good at juggling multiple priorities. someone who has good time management skills, and knows how to take care of several different areas of their lives. though of course, you'd like to be a big priority, and have them all to yourself once you're able to with them. you desire an endlessly devoted person, who will absolutely reserve a special time of the day for you two only.

i can see you liking your lover's love language to be physical touch, giving gifts and quality time. you probably love the idea of getting these dazzling and fancy gifts, like couple rings.

your future spouse

this person is very well put-together. they definitely carry themselves in quite a self-satisfied manner. likely to even give off a slightly arrogant vibe to people. a little bit like a person who sees themselves as very important and special.

your future lover is likely to be someone who's pretty good at handling heartbreaks. they have a lot of inner strength and resilience. contrary to what it might seem like, i don't think this person has always had the perfect and flawless life full of sunshine and rainbows; they've just developed thick skin over time. they're quite immune to pain now, because they've been able to grow and transform from their heartache.

people on the outside are likely to see them as someone who always has their shit together, and is very blessed. but again, that's just because your fs is good at dealing with their problems in a graceful manner. they aren't the type to make their inner struggles very obvious.

they also seem like a person who's pretty perfectionistic, which is a quiet but heavy burden they might carry on their back a lot.

feeling this constant need to display themselves in the best light only, not being sure if they can ever live up to anyone's expectations. they're likely to be quite hard on themselves.

the type of person to obsessively check every picture that was taken of them, out of worry they came out looking bad.

they are giving me “golden child” energy. i keep thinking of family somehow. they might feel a lot of pressure from their families, or their closer environment, to be perfect.

however, they also do give me slightly spoiled energy here. they might've grown up in a very protected environment, and have therefore been more shielded from certain “real world” problems the “normal” person has to deal with.

they could either come from a privileged family, be in a privileged position, perhaps through fame or wealth, or have grown up with overly protective and smothering parents. some of them could also just be spoiled only children.

this is likely to have led to them being rather inexperienced in some areas in life. i don't seem them as very narrow-minded though, on the contrary; they do seem curious and interested, as well as open and eager to exploring new things.

this is likely to be a person who isn't from your typical circle. there's a high likelihood for them to be a foreigner. you could either meet them online, like a dating app or social media, or while you're on a trip overseas of some sort.

very central theme for you two; being immensely interested in getting to know each other, considering you're so different.

it's this thing when you meet someone from a completely different background or with a very different lifestyle to yours, and naturally get curious about a variety of different things.

it can get quite fascinating, i can especially see your fs getting excited to hear about your everyday-stories. there is a childlike innocence to them. like this cute and youthful glow in their eyes when they're listening to something that intrigues them.

they're someone who's quite excitable and energetic, especially when they get to do fun and adventurous activities.

very likely for this person to have strong fire placements. i'm getting a sagittarius or aries moon or mars, perhaps.

the two of you are likely to hit it off quite fast, the chemistry is amazing. though i don't see the energy being romantic right away, there's this vibe of you two just clicking very well. beautiful harmony between you and your fs.

you could text a lot, or regularly meet up at café's together.

i also get this snowy and cozy fall and winter atmosphere with warm coffee vibes for some reason. this could be a significant factor for some of you. you're welcome to take whatever resonates with you personally, and leave the rest.

meeting up with this person is likely to uplift you in a beautiful way. this warm, cozy and fuzzy feeling i'm getting, is likely to relate to how you guys will feel when around your fs as well. it will be so comfortable, the conversation will flow naturally.

the existence of this person is likely to make you feel renewed. life will just seem brighter, more beautiful and pleasant.

you could feel this inner contentment, that makes many of your problems seem less dramatic, now that you have this special source of light by your side.

your fs is likely to find the same warmth in you guys as well.

the sun in the end is such a beautiful way to end the spread; think of how the sun makes you feel. warm, comfortable. it's also very vital in energy and healthy for you. that's how the dynamic between you and your fs is likely to play out.

thank you for reading ᰔᩚ i'd love to hear you guys' feedback on what resonated for you

[puckinghischier]

Hiiii happy new year! I absolutely adore your quinnxreader fics! I loved the one about his brothers asking her questions and calling her all the time because they love her so much! Would you consider writing more about that?

Maybe about their dynamic in person, meeting over Christmas or summer or something!??

Have a great day!

oh listen when the four of you are together for long periods of time? you’re convinced you and quinn will never have to have kids, because you’re gonna be parenting jack and luke for the rest of your lives.

like meeting at the lake house over the summer. even if ellen and jim are there with everyone, luke and jack still bug you with any and every question they have.

“y/n! what should i eat for lunch?”

“y/n! where’s the remote?”

“y/n! have you seen my swimming trunks?”

every time you take a breath, one of them is yelling for you for help, or advice, or nothing at all. jack is a regular at shouting your name from wherever he is in the house just to show you some video on his phone, or ask you how to spell a word for a text he’s sending.

quinn and ellen have both scolded them numerous times to leave you alone and quit treating you like a maid, but you don’t tell them you secretly love it. you hate that they’re acting like toddlers that can’t fend for themselves, but you love the comfort level they have with you to do it all.

and it’s not like they don’t return the favor.

you always manage to get a summer cold when you come to the lake house. you don’t know if it’s the water mixed with the chilly nights or the fact you’re always on the go and never resting, but you somehow always get a case of the sniffles for a few days each summer.

whenever it happens, jack and luke dote on you like you’re bedridden. constantly bringing you snacks and meds and juice. asking if you need anything, watching movies with you and quinn while all four of you cuddle on the couch.

ellen never fails to snap a picture of the occasion, all of her kids (you included) safe and sound under one roof, a rare occurrence in her world.

now, you have your own moments visiting the two youngest brothers, missing them just as badly as they miss you sometimes. when quinn is away on a particularly long road trip and jack and luke have a few home games, you’re booking a flight and off to see them.

you can always see how excited they are to have you at their games, making sure you have the best seats and even buying you a custom split hughes sweater, so you never have to choose one over the other.

they tell all of their teammates you’re coming and gesture to you throughout the whole game, making sure you saw that save, or watched them score a goal.

you go out with them after games and send quinn lots of pictures of his drunk, idiot brothers singing karaoke and displaying terrible dance moves.

quinn loves seeing you have the friendship with his brothers that you do, but he always reminds them to keep you safe, his protective side coming out, even though he knows they would never let anything happen.

still, it doesn’t keep them from finding sunglasses from god knows where, drunkenly waltzing you out of bar on either side of you, gesturing for people to move out of the way like they’re your bodyguards. every move you make, they’re sending (blurry) pictures of you safely outside the bar, getting into the uber, getting out of the uber, walking into their apartment building, in the elevator, unlocking their door, walking through their door, walking to the guest room, and one final shot of you in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin, to the groupchat you’re in with them and your boyfriend.

and once the apartment is quiet and their voices are reduced to light snores, you sneak into their rooms and take pictures of them, too, feeling just as much of a responsibility to keep them safe and cared for.

christmases? now those are an event, truly.

luke and jack are on you for months to help them pick out the perfect gift for quinn and ellen, claiming you know gifts way better than they do. you even fly out to jersey for a couple days in the middle of december, finding a stretch where they have a couple home games.

you take them out shopping, coaching and making sure they don’t pick out some random scarf for their mom or striped tie for quinn and jim. they take you to do all the touristy christmas things around the city (even if you’ve done it a million times before) and make fun of how you still can’t skate, even after all the years of being with quinn.

when you all finally make it back to michigan for the big family christmas, quinn steals you away for some one on one time, of course, but it’s never long lived. one of the two man-children, as quinn so affectionately calls them, comes barging in your room eventually, flopping down onto the bed right in-between you and quinn. and once one is in there, the other gets jealous and fights his way into the dog pile happening.

“can you two go annoy mom and dad or something? you just had her for four days, it’s my turn,” quinn huffs, your quiet bubble now burst.

“well, mom and dad told us to come annoy you guys, they have to wrap presents,” luke pouts to quinn, causing him to roll his eyes and accept his fate.

christmas morning with them is always your favorite, though.

jack and luke are always so high energy, wanting everyone to open their presents from them first so they can see the reactions.

they’re just like little kids, almost blurting out what it is as the person is opening it. they always tell ellen and quinn and jim you helped them, not wanting to take all the credit for themselves. but when it comes to their gifts to you? you start to think their claims that they’re terrible at gift giving is just a rouse to get you to visit them each year, because they never fail to give you the most heartfelt gifts.

like this christmas, they had gone in together on paying an artist to paint a collage of your favorite pictures of you and quinn together, the canvasses each in the shape of yours and quinn’s initials. you had noticed the canvas shaped like a plus sign in-between the two letters is blank, not knowing why they would leave such a large section bare.

when you look up to ask them, you notice they’re standing on either side of you, gesturing you to stand up. quinn is nowhere to be found, looking around for him as you stand and follow their lead to the back door of the large house.

when they open the door you’re met with the michigan snow, falling perfectly onto a beautifully decorated archway that you hadn’t noticed the night before. you noticed the poinsettias forming a walkway to the arch, finding quinn standing there under the perfectly hung mistletoe, waiting for you.

jack and luke walk push you on, staying behind in the warmth of the house.

you walk down the snow covered path, focusing on not falling the whole way.

once you reach the end of the path, quinn grabs your hand and plants you right in front of him.

he launches into a speech about how much he loves you, and how much he loves watching you with his family, how easily you’ve become a part of it, intertwined so deeply into his soul he couldn’t let you go, even if he wanted to, before dropping down on one knee, asking you to spend the rest of your life trusting him and loving him.

you immediately tell him yes, launching your body to his once he stands, tears streaming down your frozen face. right as you go to share a kiss to seal the intimate moment, you’re broken apart by the woops and hollers of none other than jack and luke, turning your head to see them barreling down the walkway towards you two.

“oh my god! we’re getting a sister! she’s actually gonna be ours now!” jack screams, crushing you two in a bear hug that would give quinn a run for his money.

“now quinn can’t use the excuse she’s his anymore, because now she’s ours. she’s gonna be a hughes! no more stingy quinn!” luke follows up, another weight added onto the already crushing hug.

“oh god, i didn’t think this through,” quinn groans, not enjoying his brothers’ newfound claim on you.

you giggle, encased in all the hughes love.

“also, we helped plan this, don’t let him hog all the credit, here. we planned our gift so it’d be the perfect segway into the proposal!” luke rushes out, too excited to keep it in any longer.

“the blank canvas is for engagement pictures!” jack confirms, beaming from ear to ear.

they finally release you and quinn from their clutches.

“okay, you guys have had your moment, now go back inside. she might getting ready to be your sister-in-law,” quinn emphasizes the last two words, “but she’s my fiancé, so we’ve earned some alone time.”

the two brothers huff and pout as they walk off, grumbling about how they can’t wait until you’re a hughes so he can’t claim you’re just his.

before you allow yourself the time with quinn, you run after your two best friends, tackling them in their own bear hug, despite how much larger they are than you.

“thank you guys. for this, for accepting me into your family, for sharing quinn with me,” you giggle at their scoff and luke’s mumble of ‘more like we share you with him’ before continuing. “i love you two. i’ll always be your big sister, yeah? as long as you’re always my two obnoxious little brothers.”

they squeeze you back so tightly you can’t breathe, telling you again how much they can’t wait for you to officially be part of their family.

quinn watches you with them, his own heart warmed despite the snow falling, wondering how in the world he got so lucky with such an amazing family, and now an even more amazing woman to bring into it.

[nightingale-prompts]

Ghost Diet-DCxDP prompt

Ghosts and spirits have a wide-ranging diet. They are mostly ectovores which are found in their main habitat. They are highly cannibalistic because the concentrated/processed ectoplasm that is in other ghosts is better from them. Although they eat one another they don't kill each other because they don't eat the cores of other ghosts but do weaken them. The eaten ghosts then have to build up their strength again to reform and gain back their lost ectoplasm. This creates a food chain where the strongest ghost consumes the weaker until they too are consumed.

This isn't always the case of course. While ectoplasm is a substance they can all consume they can easily supplement it with other foods. In fact, the ghost realm has a cornucopia of foods that they cultivate. These food however are not very friendly to mortals.

Danny often brings delicacies back from the ghost zone.

Ghoul Gelato from Frostbite: Ice cream infused with the essence of moonlight and frost.

Spirit Spritz from Ember: A fizzy drink made from ectoplasm and tears of joy.

Ectoplasm Eclairs from Desriee: Pastries filled with glowing, gooey ectoplasm.

Phantom Pudding is a special dish made by Nocturne: A shimmering, translucent dessert that tastes like forgotten memories.

Danny often eats them at lunch.

He ended up bumping into Tim between classes and sitting to eat with him when Dick had to drop Damian off for "Family Bonding" time.

So they ate lunch together. Which was awkward because Danny and Tim were kinda...you know having a moment and having a kid here was ruining it. Especially a very scary-looking one that looks like he bites.

Danny had a bag of gummies he had gotten from Jazz on the way out of the house. Danny had assumed it was safe and offered it to Damian as a peace offering since he wanted Tim's family to like him.

But those were Graveyard Gummies. A special tombstone-shaped treat that was similar to gushers but filled with ectoplasm. Jazz must have gone on a grocery run (yes they do have a grocery store in the ghost zone. You'd be surprised how normal some spaces there are) to stock up on snacks for the family. Dan and Dani also need their ghost foods.

Danny realized way too late when Damian actually tried the ecto gummies what he had done. But instead of Damian spitting out the acidic death fluid or...dying, the kid liked it. Loved it even.

"Where did you get these?" Damian said interrupting whatever Tim was saying.

"Oh...uh my sister got them."

"What are you so excited about? Let me try one." Tim reached for the bag only for Damian to smack his hand away.

"Get your own. Did you see Fenton give it to me?"

Danny had a bad feeling about this.

[mindless-existence1]

Summery: Maddie grounds Shadow so he sneaks out to see you.

And of course for the lovely @luc1dw0rld

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life at the Wachowski house was never dull, especially after Shadow joined their growing family. His brooding nature stood out starkly against the warm, chaotic energy of the household, but deep down, he cared for them—even if he’d never admit it outright.

Today, however, Shadow wasn’t in his usual calm, composed state. He was pacing his room, his arms crossed and crimson eyes darting to the clock on the wall. The interaction echoed in his mind.

“You’re grounded, Shadow. No leaving the house, no thoting understand? You need to think about your actions.”

Shadow scoffed and rolled his eyes, him 'grounded'? Yeah no. "I'm the untalented lifeform you can't ground me." The scowl on Maddies face made him bite his tounge.

Her tone had been firm, and Tom had backed her up, which meant Shadow’s plans to see you were temporarily derailed. Maddie rarely pulled the “grounded” card, but when she did, it stuck.

Shadow huffed, glaring out the window at the setting sun. It wasn’t fair. Sure, he’d gotten into a minor argument with Sonic earlier that day—and maybe caused a little collateral damage in the process—but it wasn’t like he was in the wrong. Sonic always pushed his buttons!

He flopped onto his bed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at the ceiling. His mind wandered to you, as it always did when he was alone. Spending time with you was one of the few things that made him feel truly at peace.

You never judged him, never treated him like some kind of weapon or anomaly. You just... cared.But now, thanks to Maddie, he couldn’t see you.

“I don’t need their permission,” Shadow muttered to himself. His ears twitched as he listened for signs of life downstairs. The sound of laughter and a TV show told him the family was occupied.

He sat up, formulating a plan. Tails had rigged the doors and windows to set off an alarm if any were opened unexpectedly. Lucky for him, teleworking didn't set off said alarm.

It wasn’t too far of a drop, and he could use his Chaos abilities to soften his landing. With one last glance at the door he zips out the window and softens the fall with chaos energy.

“Grounded or not, I'm going,” he muttered, determination flaring in his chest.

---

When Shadow arrived at your place, you were sitting on the porch, enjoying the calm night. You looked up, startled but delighted, as he appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“Shadow! I didn’t think I’d see you tonight,” you said, a smile spreading across your face. He crossed his arms, his usual stoic expression softening slightly.

“I wasn’t supposed to,” he admitted. You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” He sighed, sitting down beside you. “Maddie grounded me. She said I needed to ‘think about my actions.’” His gloved fingers making a quotation motion as he spoke.

You stifled a laugh, imagining Shadow sulking under Maddie’s stern gaze. “What did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said quickly, his ears twitching. “What matters is that I’m here now.” You reached out, brushing your fingers against his arm. “You know it means they care about you when they ground you, right? But I’m glad you came.”

For a moment, the tension in his shoulders eased. Being with you had that effect on him. “Just don’t tell Maddoe I snuck out,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. You chuckled, leaning against him. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

And as the two of you sat together under the stars, Shadow felt that, grounded or not, moments like this were worth the risk.