#and i was like oh i know i already watched it and listened to the album đŸ«Ł
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classyrbf · 2 days ago
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roommate!choso who constantly brings a new girl over every few weeks. He goes out with his lame friends, partying and drinking, stumbling into the apartment during the middle of the night with a random girl who he ends up fucking. It drives you absolutely nuts. No matter how many times you ask nicely for him to keep it quiet or even maybe go over to her place, he gives you the same apology and fake smile.
And tonight was one of those night. The clock at your bedside table flashes the time
1:47 am
and all you hear is the sound of choso’s bed creaking, the girl letting out the most pornographic moans. “I’m cumming!” She yells and you roll your eyes in annoyance, sitting up in your bed. If you weren’t going to sleep at all, you might as well just sit on your phone and watch YouTube to make the time pass. But even minutes later, they’re still going at it, both of them moaning and whimpering, skin on skin slapping against each other.
It was getting hard to distract yourself and even harder to ignore. You stirred in your spot, letting out a deep sigh. As much as it annoyed you, hearing them two go at like rabbits, you couldn’t help but get turned on. Your mind kept drifting to choso, his chiseled face and body, his voice and siren like eyes. It was hard not to find him attractive.
Your hands found their way into your pants, your fingers finding your clit and gently rubbing. It was so pervy of you to listen and actually get off to it, but what else were you supposed to do? You were tired of listening and complaining to him, and at times you wish it were you. With the way these girls sounded like literal porn stars, it was hard not to wonder what he’d feel like inside of you, or how pretty he looked while eating you out.
Before you know it, you were fully undressed, rocking your hips to the rhythm that choso was going, humping the corner of your pillow. Your hand reached up, groping your tits and pulling at your perky nipples, wishing so badly that it was him instead. “Mmph,” you whimper, bumping your clit against the fabric. Why did this feel so good?
Your skin burns hot, mind running wild with imagination. Oh how badly you wished this pillow could be his face, riding his tongue instead. “Oh, yes,” you shakily breathe, pleasure slowly building inside your core. With each rock of your hips, your pussy grows wetter and wetter. It’s the fact you weren’t even getting off to them, but to choso himself. The noises were drowned out by your own thoughts. “Ah! Ah!”
You bite down on your lower lip, circling your hips into your pillow to put more pressure on your clit. Your brows furrow in pleasure and you can tell youre close, that overwhelming sense of pleasure clouding your senses and making your head foggy. “Fuckk!” You moan, eyes fluttering shut, hands reaching up to tweak your nipples between your fingers. The added pleasure pushes you over the edge. “Oh my god! Nnngh!” Your hips jolt against the pillow as your orgasm overtakes you. Did you really just cum to the thought of your roommate? You couldn’t even be bothered to do deal with that right now. Eyes heavy with sleep, you fall over on your bed, still trying to catch your breath. It only took you a few minutes to fall asleep.
Choso stands there in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee when you walk out your bedroom, rubbing your eyes and dragging your feet across the floor. “Someone slept in,” he spoke aloud, catching your attention.
“Shut up. You and whatever girl you brought back were loud last night and I couldn’t sleep!” You shove him out the way, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge.
“Yeah
you were pretty loud last night too. Guess that makes two of us,” he chuckles. With wide eyes, you swiftly turn your head towards him to see he’s already looking at you with a cocky smirk. “Heard you after the girl left. You should really take your own advice and quiet down.” He sips from his coffee.
How long were you going for? It really didn’t seem like that long at all. “Please shut up and forget you heard anything.” You slam the fridge shut, forgetting about your orange juice and walking back to your bedroom.
“If you need help next time, just let me know!” He shouts while you walk away, slamming the door on him.
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angelsforthenight · 1 day ago
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PERVERT ABBY PERVERT ABBY I BEG!!!!!!!!! Also, the camgirl vi series was so lovely . enjoyed reading it :3
note: thank u very much ^_^ this request got me excited,,, whether abby is a sub or dom in this fic is up for interpretation btw cus there’s kind of a mix of both hehehehe
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pervert abby headcanons
content (18+): masturbating, groping, voyeurism, oral fixation
— there is always, ALWAYS an underlying meaning to the way she touches you. whether it be a hand splayed on the small of your back, or the way her thumb would slowly rub circles on your hips, or your knuckles.
— if you would lean down to get something, her hands would be on your hips and she’d be playfully thrusting. or if it was a hot summer day and you were sucking on a popsicle, her lips would crackle into a grin and she wouldn’t be able to take her eyes off you
— professional panty thief!!!!! steals them like they’re treasure. and oh, she definitely puts them to use, alright: stuffing them in her mouth as a gag when touching herself. they come in handy when you’re gone and she’s missing you.
— calls you when masturbating, masking it as a normal phone call: asking about your day, listening to you yap whilst fingering herself crazy style. you’d hear heavy breathing on the line and ask if she’s alright, only to be followed with a curt, breathy “mhm! keep talking.”
— it’d be an absolute leap in the dark listening to her voice notes whilst out with your friends. you never know when it would be something important, or a minute long message of her moaning and whimpering; babbling incoherently over how much she misses you whilst clearly fucking herself.
— where ordinary people would be merely jealous and frustrated, her absolute favourite thing would be watching others try to hit on you. she’d revel just
 watching. spotting someone so clearly trying to plot on you when you’re already taken. that’s when she would outwardly show off, groping you obscenely whilst maintaining eye contact with the culprit.
— adding onto that, abby would also get off on you trying to make her jealous. it turns her on to imaginable levels seeing you attempt to get her attention by flirting with another stranger. makes you suspect she’d let you fuck someone else as long as she gets to watch. who knows?
— before you started dating, she had a phase where all she could do was touch herself to your photos online. no porn, or erotic piece of content ever amounted to the glory of your pictures, even if they were hardly sexual. it was the only thing that could get her off.
— UNRESTRAINED when it comes to dirty talk, like a dog let loose. you have no idea how she can say such filthy words coated in the sweetest voice ever. she knows exactly what she’s doing too, and worst thing of all: she means every word she says. lying isn’t really her thing after all.
— instead of letting you know that you have something near your mouth, she quietly wipes it off herself; the pad of her thumb rubbing the corner of your lips, helplessly shifting to drag along your bottom lip. sometimes it ‘accidentally’ slips inside, and suddenly you’re sucking her thumb like she can feel it down there.
a/n: requests are open!!!! i’m back and i’m excited to do these aaahhh might not do all but i’ll tryyy. keep in mind though if something is too similar to other works i’ve done then i’ll probably not do it i’m sorry!!!! ( ;® - `;)
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mintyys-blog · 2 days ago
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Hi I love your writing and invincible stuff so much if it’s not too much, could you make the mark variants with reader who is still trying to recover from a bad relationship and she’s healed from it but she’s just afraid to date anyone because she’s afraid that she’ll have to deal with it again .
Please and thank you 🍰
HEADCANONS | variants with s/o who came from a toxic relationship
INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: mention of toxic relationships, murder, toxic behaviour (Sinsiter Mark)
Kindly respect my work. No reposts, translations, or rewrites — AI-generated or not — without my consent. © @mintyys-blog
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MAIN MARK
Mark doesn’t rush her. He knows what it’s like to be hurt, to question everything, to feel like love might never be safe again. So he’s patient — endlessly so. When she hesitates, when she pulls back even after they’ve laughed all night, he doesn’t get upset. He just smiles, soft and steady, and says, “It’s okay. Take your time.”
He makes sure she knows she can talk to him, always. “Communication’s important,” he tells her one night while they’re watching the stars. “Even if it’s hard. Even if it’s messy. You don’t have to keep anything inside when you’re with me.”
And he means it. He never pushes her to share, but when she does — even in fragments — he listens. No judgment. No pressure. Just a boy who cares, who wants to be the safe place someone else couldn’t be.
He shows love in small, quiet ways: warming up her favorite food after a long day, sending her random messages just to check in, holding her hand just long enough for her to squeeze back. Every time she opens up, he treats it like a gift. Because to him, it is.
“You don’t have to be perfect,” he whispers into her hair once, holding her close. “You just have to be you. I can handle the rest.”
MOHAWK MARK
The second he finds out what her ex put her through — the control, the emotional bruises, the way she still flinches when people raise their voices — his entire mood shifts. The air stills around him. His fists curl at his sides, jaw tight. He doesn’t say anything at first, just seethes.
“He’s still walking around like nothing happened?” he mutters, voice low and dangerous. She panics a little, tugging at his sleeve, already telling him not to do anything reckless.
“I’m not gonna kill him,” he says, but it sounds more like a promise to himself than to her. And yet with her, it’s different.
Mark isn’t soft by nature, but he’s steady. Protective. When she admits that she’s scared of dating again — scared that maybe this is just how love goes — he doesn’t laugh or dismiss her. He doesn’t rush her either. He just nods, quiet, and says, “Then we take it slow. No pressure.”
He doesn’t know how to say I’m proud of you without sounding gruff, so he shows it in little things — letting her vent without judgment, brushing her hand when she gets nervous, standing behind her like a wall when things feel overwhelming.
“If you ever feel like things are too much,” he says one night, “you can lean on me. I’m not going anywhere.”
And she believes him — not because he says the perfect words, but because he means them. Because no matter how messy things get, he’s not afraid of what comes with her healing. He’s not here for the version of her that smiles all the time — he’s here for all of it.“You’ve been through hell,” he says, brushing her cheek with his thumb, “but you’re still standing. That matters.”
SINISTER MARK
He’s not interested in healing her — not really. He’s interested in owning her. And the moment he learns about her past relationship, something cold and calculating flickers behind his eyes. “Oh, so that’s why you flinch when people raise their voice,” he mutters once, with a faint smirk. “Cute.”
He tracks down her ex — doesn’t say a word about it, doesn’t even seem angry — but the man disappears shortly after. And when she asks if he had anything to do with it, Mark only shrugs, indifferent. “Doesn’t matter. He won’t hurt you again.”
That should be comforting. But there’s something in his tone that makes it feel more like a threat. He starts slow. Subtle. He doesn’t berate her — not outright — but he plants seeds.
“You’re lucky I’m not like him, right?”
“You always get so emotional. Maybe that’s why he treated you like that.”
“You’d fall apart without me.”
And the twisted part is: he makes her feel loved. In his own warped way. He touches her gently after every cold word. He praises her just enough to make the insults feel like truth. He keeps her just high enough that she doubts the fall.
He never tells her she’s worthless — but he lets her believe she’s only safe in his orbit. That he is the upgrade, the savior, the one who knows her better than anyone else.
And when she finally catches on — when she’s staring in the mirror, trying to remember when she stopped recognizing herself — she’s already in love. Already tangled in him. Already his.
And that’s exactly how he likes it.
OMNI MARK
Mark wouldn’t make a grand show of it.
He wouldn’t shout, wouldn’t threaten — he’d just disappear for a few hours after finding out about the ex who hurt her. No costume. No fanfare. Just him, moving like a silent weapon across continents. When he returns, there’s blood on his knuckles, a shallow cut on his lip, and a calmness in his expression that makes her stomach twist. He doesn’t even bring it up unless she asks.
“He won’t be a problem anymore,” he says simply, wiping his hands on a towel, like he just finished fixing a car instead of ending someone’s life.
It’s terrifying. But also strangely
 comforting. Because Mark is not a gentle man. He doesn’t pretend to be. But if he’s with her, it means she’s someone he’s chosen — someone he protects with the same ruthless force he uses to crush enemies.
He’s not soft about it. Not emotional. But sometimes, when she’s quiet or distant — still flinching from ghosts that aren’t there — he’ll wrap an arm around her and press a kiss to the top of her head.
“You don’t need to be afraid anymore,” he murmurs. And he means it. Because in his eyes, love isn’t just affection — it’s annihilation of anything that dares to harm what’s his.
VILTRUMITE MARK
Mark doesn’t need to raise his voice. His presence alone speaks louder than any threat ever could.
The first time someone dared mention her ex in a dismissive tone — just a joke, they said — Mark didn’t even blink. He just stepped forward, calm and composed, and stared them down with the kind of quiet that made the air hard to breathe. “No one disrespects her,” he said, tone even, almost cold. “Not in front of me. Not ever.”
He doesn’t give speeches. He doesn’t need to. The look in his eyes — the weight of centuries of Viltrumite power behind his silence — says everything.
And that reputation follows. People learn quickly that she’s off-limits. Not because she’s fragile. But because she’s his, and Viltrumite Mark doesn’t tolerate disrespect to what he considers sacred.
At home, though, he’s different. He listens. He learns how much the past hurt her, how much she’s trying to rebuild. He might not fully understand human fears — heartbreak, betrayal — but he wants to. For her.
“I can’t erase the past,” he tells her once, fingers brushing her cheek. “But I can make damn sure nothing like that touches you again.” And he means it — with all the terrifying, unwavering certainty that comes with being born a weapon, and choosing to love instead.
PRISONER MARK
Mark isn’t perfect—he’s rough around the edges, scarred inside and out, and built more for survival than softness. But with her, he tries. God, he tries so hard.
He knows what she’s been through. He sees it in the way she flinches at sudden changes in tone, the way she hesitates when she speaks her mind, like she’s bracing to be shut down. And it pisses him off—not at her, but at whoever made her feel that way.
He doesn’t always know what to say, but his actions scream louder than words ever could.
He’s patient, in his own way. He holds her tighter on bad nights. Doesn’t push when she pulls away. Lets her set the pace. And when she questions why he even stays—why he bothers—his voice goes low, serious.
“Because you deserve someone who doesn’t make you afraid to love again.”
He never calls what they have perfect, but it’s real. He brings her little things—stupid trinkets he finds, pieces of the outside world he knows she’ll like. Cooks for her when he can. Rests his scarred head in her lap, looking up at her like she’s the only soft thing left in his world.
He might’ve come from a place built on cruelty, but with her, he’s learning something else—what it really means to protect. To love. To be more than what he was made for.
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TAG LIST ; @onlybatsyy
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bower-quinn · 1 day ago
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Eddie Munson x Reader
+18 | smut | kisses | swearing
Steve’s little sister
or the forbidden fruit, as Eddie called you.
Eddie Munson never saw you as anything more than his best friend’s little sister. A little sister who always wanted to be involved, who annoyed them, played pranks, and tattled on them whenever Steve threw a house party. Oh, of course, he knew you had a crush on him. Your giggling, blushing, and silly little attempts at flirting didn’t go unnoticed by him. How could he?
But somehow, he missed the moment when things changed. Suddenly, you were going your own way, and it was suddenly cool and fun to hang out with you. You started showing up at Steve’s parties, sometimes even becoming the center of attention, and Eddie secretly watched you, flirting with other guys, ignoring him, and somehow just grew up. Just like that.
Shortly after your sixteenth birthday, for which Steve organized an obscenely large party, Eddie realized that he was secretly watching you more and more at school. Like some kind of pervert stalking his best friend’s little sister. He would never have made even the slightest move in the direction he secretly desired. Steve meant too much to him, and if he were honest, he was scared he’d mess you up. Unlike him, you were a good person. He dealt drugs and used them occasionally. And you had the chance to go to any college in the country. He was the rebellious and loud outsider, and you were quiet and popular.
But despite everything, he enjoyed the movie nights that Steve regularly hosted at his place. Even though you had not been to one in a long time, you always greeted Eddie warmly, and he cherished those few seconds. By now, he regretted not enjoying the time when you had that silly crush on him.
You knew that Steve was planning another movie night today. You weren’t really in the mood for a horror movie, but with no better plans, you decided to join the group. You knew that Steve loved having you around. Even if he’d never admit it, he loved spending time with you, just talking and gossiping about everything and everyone. It had been less lately because you’d been spending a lot of time with your new boyfriend. Steve wasn’t jealous, not in the traditional sense. He was just sad that his best conversation partner no longer had time for him.
„Steve,” you asked as you walked into the kitchen, „about your movie night later—”
„Hm?” he responded, putting the second bag of microwave popcorn in.
„Would it be a problem if I joined you?”
Steve grinned happily at you.
„Not at all!”
„And,” you glanced at the kitchen counter, playing with a tiny drop of water, „would the others be okay with that? Because I know Eddie doesn’t particularly like me.”
Steve rolled his eyes.
„Eddie’s my best friend and all, but listen, Bunny”—he used your old nickname—“sometimes Eddie can be a real jerk. Just ignore him.”
„Okay,” you said, glancing at the popcorn. „Put some butter on it!”
You waited patiently in your room for Robin and Eddie to arrive. Sitting in the living room the whole time wasn’t your thing. You preferred to listen to some music.
When the doorbell rang and the scent of popcorn wafted through the house, you hummed happily as you ran down the stairs. You reached the bottom just as Steve opened the door.
„So, this is the Harrington mansion,” Robin said, mockingly astonished as she looked around.
„Don’t pretend like you’ve never been here,” Steve rolled his eyes and greeted his best friend. Over his shoulder, Robin gave you a broad grin, which you returned.
„Gracing us with your presence today?”
You shrugged. „I need a change.”
„From all the guys chasing after you?” Robin asked, waggling her eyebrows. Steve pulled a face in disgust.
„Please, Robin. None of those idiots can even come close to her. I already can’t stand Jake.”
„John,” you and Robin corrected him simultaneously, „but if you’re interested, I broke up with him.”
„When?” this time, Robin and Steve spoke simultaneously.
Before you could answer, someone spoke from the door: „I would have rung the bell, but the door was wide open.”
Eddie Munson, Steve’s best friend, grinned at the two of them, then looked up at you. You were still standing by the stairs, leaning against the railing.
„Good evening, my sweet summer child,” his grin widened, „it’s been ages since we last saw each other.”
„If you call two months ages” you laughed. The last time you two had met was at your birthday party.
He waved it off. „You can’t seriously count that huge party. We didn’t exchange a single word!”
„Yeah, yeah,” Steve said, waving a hand in front of Eddie’s face, „bruised ego, blah blah. Can we get back to Jake for a moment?”
„John.”
„Whatever.”
„Which John?” Eddie asked as he hung his and Robin’s jackets in the closet. „Your John?”
„My ex-John,” you clarified, „and I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right anymore.”
„Good,” Steve said, heading toward the living room, „I never liked him.”
„How surprising,” Robin shouted after him, rolling her eyes.
Eddie chuckled and extended his hand to you. You walked down the stairs, took his hand, and he spun you around like a ballerina.
„I’m afraid we’re completely underdressed, Robin,” Eddie sighed. You looked down at yourself. You were wearing simple sweatpants and a purple T-shirt.
„I look fabulous,” Robin said, shoving Eddie aside and pulling you into a tight hug. When you hugged Eddie afterward, you noticed that his hug was much more intimate than before.
„Are you coming or what?” Steve yelled from the hallway. „Or should I watch the movie alone?”
The first movie was quite funny—a silly comedy with little substance that made you giggle. Twice, you caught Eddie looking at you and quickly turning away. But you didn’t think much of it because the greeting earlier had been so sweet. Maybe he did like you after all.
When Steve got up to make more popcorn, you followed him into the kitchen.
„I think Eddie likes me after all,” you sighed with relief.
„Maybe,” Steve muttered. You could hear the anger in his voice. You could read your brother like a book.
„What’s wrong?” you asked gently. „Am I bothering you guys after all?”
He ran his hand through his hair and looked at you with raised eyebrows.
„Please. No, I’m just wondering—”
„What?”
„When did you stop talking to me?”
You looked at him, puzzled.
„What do you mean?”
„Well, the thing with John. First, I had to find out by chance that my little sister had a boyfriend, and then I find out again by chance that you broke up with him,” he turned away again, rubbing his eyes. „I’m just wondering if I’m not a part of your life anymore.”
„Stevie,” you said, hugging him from behind, resting your head against his back, „you’ll always be my brother. You’re the most important person in the world to me. I just didn’t think about how it would affect you. If it makes you feel better, I promise to talk to you about everything again.”
„H’kay,” he mumbled, but you could hear that he was already feeling better.
When you came out of the kitchen, Eddie and Robin looked at you.
„All good?” Eddie asked.
„And you, Munson?” you asked, sitting next to him now that Steve had taken the chair.
„Now it is,” he grinned and winked at you. You laughed and rolled your eyes. A year ago, that gesture would have made you giggle and blush, but you had long since gotten over your crush on Eddie.
The second movie was, of course, a horror film. While Steve, Eddie, and Robin made fun of the scenes, you sat there tense, squeezing your eyes shut during particularly bloody moments.
„You okay?”
You looked to the side and found yourself staring directly into Eddie’s concerned face. His eyes were large and dark, and you could almost see your own reflection in them.
„Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled. You intended to look back at the TV, but Eddie’s gaze held you. With a smooth movement, he scooted closer to you and put an arm around your shoulders.
„I got you,” he grinned and looked away again. You turned your head too but swallowed dryly. Your stomach fluttered as you felt his warm hand on your shoulder. His fingertips cautiously slipped under your sleeve, gently brushing your skin. On an impulse, you leaned your head against his shoulder. His curls tickled your forehead. Eddie stayed that way, didn’t push you away, didn’t move away. Why would he? After all, you were his best friend’s little sister. It wasn’t that bad to cuddle, right?
Then why did those little butterflies flutter in your stomach?
On his way home, Eddie curses himself. How could he have let this happen? Why does he have so little control? When you sat down next to him, something in his brain just short-circuited. The urge to touch your skin was so overwhelming that he allowed you to snuggle up to him. For you, it was a completely harmless gesture, but he had to focus hard not to lean in and smell your hair.
„Fuck,” Eddie shouts into the night when he’s far enough from your house.
You’re deep in thought too, but in a different way. Eddie was incredibly kind to you today, much kinder than he used to be. You can still remember his disdainful looks and his arrogant laugh when you tried to be near him unnoticed. He’s the complete opposite of your brother, and that’s exactly what makes him so fascinating to you. His dark curls often fall wildly into his face, and the chain he wears around his neck jingles softly when he laughs. That used to drive you crazy. You’re briefly tempted to go over to Steve and talk to him about these utterly confusing feelings. But he would probably hear nothing but „Eddie. Butterflies“ and punch him directly in the face tomorrow at school. No, first you have to figure out what exactly Eddie means to you and what exactly you feel. It doesn’t make sense before that.
Figuring that out goes worse than you thought. At school, it’s hard to concentrate on Eddie on top of all the schoolwork, and during lunch, you barely see him. But then comes Thursday.
You’re standing in the hallway, packing things into your locker, when you suddenly see Eddie. He’s standing a few meters away, talking to a pretty cheerleader. He wraps one of his strands of hair around his finger, holds it to his face, and laughs at something she says. A new, extremely strange feeling starts spreading in your stomach. You stare at Eddie, and the intensity of your gaze makes him look over. His grin widens, and he lifts his hand in a wave, wiggling his fingers in a small wave. You can’t move, just staring at him as he flirts with this girl.
I’m jealous, you realize in horror, but you can’t do anything about it.
Eddie studies you, leans against the wall, and—you gasp slightly. The movement causes his T-shirt to ride up just a bit, revealing some skin on his hip. Such a damn slutty waist.
He glances down at himself, giggles, and then looks into your eyes, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
That is too much for you. You slam your locker shut, turn on your heel, and hope Eddie didn’t see your flushed face.
Eddie stands outside, smoking one cigarette after another, trying to calm himself down somehow. What happened earlier in the hallway was absolutely not planned, not at all. He can’t even explain what exactly came over him to flirt with you so blatantly. That’s a no-go—an absolute disaster! If anyone had noticed. But even worse for him is your reaction. He can’t quite decipher your expression. It almost seemed like jealousy, but that can’t be, right? And why did you then run away with a bright red face? Did his exposed skin somehow turn you on? Is it possible that—
He immediately cuts off this train of thought because if he lets his mind wander any further, he’ll have to walk around school with a boner.
He throws his cigarette to the ground, stomps it out, and heads back into the building. Still lost in thought, he doesn’t watch where he’s going and bumps into you.
„Oh!” you exclaim and then laugh when you recognize Eddie, „Skipping class?”
„You know me,” he leans against the lockers, „and you?”
„Need to use the bathroom.”
„Ah,” he says, and then you both fall silent. The weird situation from earlier is still lingering in both of your minds.
„Well then,” you say slowly, ready to walk away, „see ya.”
„Hmm,” Eddie mumbles, but then you muster all your courage. You pause in your tracks, look down, and whisper, „Your tattoo is really hot.”
Before Eddie can process what you’ve just said, you’ve already disappeared. He stares after you with his mouth open. A glimmer of hope, as fragile as a butterfly’s wing, blooms within him.
Was it possible that it really was jealousy in your eyes?
While your encounter sends Eddie spiraling into a whirlpool of hope, guilt, and contradictions, you have to admit to yourself that your crush on Eddie never really went away. You just carefully suppressed it and locked it away. But his unusual kindness and his touches made it resurface. What a huge mess.
Cautiously, you knock on your brother’s door.
„Come in!” he calls, and you enter the room. Steve is standing in front of his floor-length mirror, fixing his hair.
„Steve?” you ask, and your brother looks at you through the mirror.
„Hmm?”
„Can I sit with you guys later?”
„Of course,” he looks mildly confused by your question, „you’re always welcome.”
„Thanks,” you mumble and sit down on the bed.
„There’s something on your mind,” Steve observes.
„I need to talk to you.”
Steve immediately sits next to you, giving you his full attention.
„There’s this guy
”
„Oh no.”
„Wait,” you laugh, „I think I really like him. Like, really. He flirts with me too, at least I think he does. But he also flirts with another girl.”
„Okay,” Steve says.
„And now I don’t know if I should try to get with him or just let it be.”
Thoughtfully, Steve rubs the back of his neck.
„Are there any other reasons against him?”
You laugh again, this time louder.
„Plenty. He’s an idiot. He’s absolutely childish, has terrible taste in movies, and drives me insane.”
Steve smiles knowingly.
„But you really like him, don’t you?”
„Yeah,” your smile fades, „what do you think?”
Steve sighs, looks away, and thinks.
„If you like him, then go for it. Fight for him!”
That’s not what you expected.
„What is it?” Steve asks, puzzled. „What did you think I’d say?”
„I don’t know. Honestly, I was expecting a new episode of the „Steve Harrington: No One’s Good Enough for My Sister“ podcast.”
„That’s true too,” he stands up and heads for the door, „but I’m afraid I have to give up that fight.”
That evening, Steve chose his favorite movie—a classic he’s seen a hundred times. You discreetly sat next to Eddie on the couch, as if it were the only available spot, even though you knew there were plenty of other options. You felt your heart race as he casually leaned back and made a bit of space for you. The movie had barely started, but you’d already lost interest. All you could think about was how to subtly scoot closer to Eddie. But before you could make a move, Eddie beat you to it. With a popcorn-grabbing motion, he sat so close to you that your knees touched.
„So, you picked a good spot, didn’t you, sweetheart?” he whispered with a mischievous grin in your ear. You nodded, not wanting Steve or Robin to hear your reply.
„Hmm,“ he murmured, and the sound made you turn your head towards him. Your faces were only a few millimeters apart. Your gaze flickered to his lips and back to his eyes. A realization flickered in them, and with a grin, he leaned back. You blushed and stared at the TV. Damn it. Had he been playing with you all along? Did he just want to see if you were still the lovesick kid from before? You were so absorbed in these destructive thoughts that you didn’t notice Eddie studying you. Your face suddenly became so closed off that it startled him. It had been an overwhelming feeling to see that you wanted to kiss him. At least that’s how he had interpreted your look, but then what happened? His smile afterward was pure bliss, but maybe you misunderstood? Damn it, he thought. He needed to do something to show you that he didn’t mean it that way.
He reached for the popcorn again, and by chance, his hand landed right next to yours.
Little sparks shot across your skin as Eddie’s hand brushed against yours. You glanced sideways, but he was intently watching the TV. Was it just an accident?
But then he cautiously lifted his fingers and placed them on your hand. His thumb gently stroked your skin, and you suddenly noticed a slight smirk on the corner of his mouth. So, he wasn’t as focused on the movie as he pretended.
You hadn’t misunderstood. Eddie really was flirting with you. That was the proof. The butterflies in your stomach were now darting around, crashing against the walls. Eddie liked you.
You slowly turned your hand over, allowing Eddie to touch the palm. With his fingertips, he traced tiny shapes. You looked at the others. Robin and Steve were definitely engrossed in the movie. You slowly raised your right arm and placed your hand on Eddie’s forearm. He froze, seeming to wait for what would happen next. Just as cautiously and slowly, you traced his tattoos, up and down. The urge to touch his chest or stomach was overwhelming, and you had to muster all your strength not to give in to the instinct. Eddie adjusted the position of his hand, allowing you to intertwine your fingers with his.
I’m holding hands with Eddie Munson.
The thought was so incredibly overwhelming that you had to bite your lower lip to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl.
That evening, Eddie hated himself all over again. This time, he had taken one more step too far. Jesus, he wished he could talk to Steve. But Steve would just punch his face in and do a tango with his balls.
For heaven’s sake, he’s an adult, and he’s flirting with his best friend’s little underage sister! What kind of messed-up brain wiring did he have? But you were so different. When you sat at lunch with them, making cheeky jokes and putting Eddie in his place.
He could no longer deny that he had feelings for you. No matter how hard he fought against it. And gradually, his willpower was running out. Every time he saw you and your body, whenever you sat next to him, it faded a little more.
Of course, you sensed a battle raging inside him. Every time he looked at you at school, you felt it. But you thought it had to do with the fact that you were Steve’s sister. You couldn’t know about the moral struggles waging war inside him.
The only thing you knew for sure was that you wanted—no, needed—to kiss Eddie Munson. And soon. And the chance came sooner than expected.
Eddie and Steve had to work on a boring biology project together. It was no secret that the two weren’t exactly geniuses and would probably botch the project without your help.
„What’s that supposed to be?” you asked amused, pointing to a drawing your brother had just put on paper.
„A wolf!”
„That looks like a pimpled whale,” you said, laughing, and took the pencil from his hand. „Give it here.”
„How can you draw them so well?” Steve asked, surprised.
„They’re her favorite animals,” Eddie murmured without thinking as he watched you draw. You immediately stopped and looked at Eddie, but Steve did the same.
„What?” Eddie raised his hands. „It’s true!”
„Hmm,“ Steve responded suspiciously, then jumped up. „I’ll go get us some chips and beer, and iced tea for you,“ he added when he saw your joyful expression.
„Party pooper,” you muttered. You felt Eddie lean in and whisper in your ear, „You don’t want to lose your self-control, do you?”
Your breathing quickened. The tension between you and Eddie was palpable. You knew that as soon as Steve was out of earshot, something was going to happen.
„Don’t do anything stupid,” Steve said sternly, looking at both of you before letting the front door slam loudly behind him.
„What kind of mischief could we possibly get into, huh?“ Eddie asks, turning his grinning face toward you. Before you can form a plan, you press yourself against Eddie, placing your lips on his and beginning to kiss him. He gasps in surprise, instinctively placing his hands on your hips, staring at you with wide eyes. But as he realizes what you’re doing, he leans into the kiss, closes his eyes, and moves his lips against yours. It’s not a gentle kiss; you pour all your desire into it, and Eddie eagerly responds. His tongue slides into your mouth, exploring it. Gently, his tongue brushes against yours, coaxing it into his mouth. This goes on for a while until he finally pulls away, breathless.
„My sweet summer child,“ he sighs, looking at you with glazed eyes. But it’s not enough. You want more. Gathering all your courage, you place your hand on his crotch. You both inhale sharply—your breath catches because you can feel his erection, and his because you’re touching him.
„Wait,“ he says, placing his hand on yours. „We can’t—not here. Not like this.“
Disappointment washes over you as he blocks your desire.
„I didn’t say never,“ he whispers, kissing the tip of your nose. „Just not right now.“
„Eddie,“ you whisper, avoiding his gaze.
„Yeah?“
„I...“ You sigh. „I really like you. You were always my favorite of Steve’s friends.“
He smirks as if he doesn’t already know.
„Can you tell me what’s different now from back then? I always thought you hated me.“
He wraps an arm around you and pulls you close. Your head rests on his chest, and he presses his lips to your hair.
„I never hated you,“ he whispers. „I just found you exhausting and annoying. Like little sisters are. But then, on your birthday, you were talking and dancing with everyone—except me. I was so angry and sad, and I didn’t understand why. Then I realized I was jealous. I don’t know exactly when I developed feelings for you, but it happened somewhere along the way. Obviously.“
You freeze in his arms.
„You have feelings for me?“ you ask hesitantly, and his laughter makes your body tremble.
„I thought that was obvious by now. But yes. I’m in love with you, and it’s a huge mess.“
You pull away from his embrace and look at him seriously.
„Why?“
Eddie takes your hands in his. „I’m eighteen, and you just turned sixteen. I’m your brother’s best friend, and he’s going to kill me if he ever finds out what we’ve done.“
„If this is about Steve—“ you start, but Eddie shakes his head.
„It’s about the fact that I’m an adult, and you’re a teenager. It’s not right for us to start something. You should be dating boys your own age.“
„You mean boys,“ you say, „who are just awful and play with you?“
„At your age, all boys are dickheads,“ he admits with a sigh.
„And why shouldn’t I like someone older?“
He sighs again. „I have more experience than you, in every way. It’s not fair to you.“
„How do you know that?“, you ask, hearing the defiance in your voice, but his intense, knowing look makes you blush.
„Okay, yeah,“ you admit, „but—“
„No buts,“ he says, shaking his head. „It stands—I’m not good for you. I should keep my distance.“
„But“ you say hopefully.
„But“ he kisses your hands very gently, „I definitely don’t have enough strength to stay away from you. And I’m leaving the decision and the pace up to you. You control everything. I’ll only stop you if I sense you’re doing something just to please me.“
„Okay,“ you say, taking a deep breath. „I’ve always been in love with you, Eddie. You mean so much to me.“
He smiles softly at you, a loving expression crossing his face.
„Hearing that from you is the best thing in the world.“
He kisses you, this time much more tenderly. Shortly after, you hear the door open and Steve’s voice cheerfully announcing that he’s got everything. Eddie and you pull away from each other, but your gazes remain locked, as if you’ve just exchanged a silent promise.
„I’m going to the bathroom real quick,“ Eddie whispers, winking at you before disappearing.
When Steve returns to the living room, the atmosphere is relaxed and familiar, as if nothing happened. He looks at you, then at the untouched poster.
„You haven’t gotten much done,“ he chides you.
„It’s your project!“ you retort.
„Hm,“ he mutters, eyeing you suspiciously. „You and Eddie aren’t—“
„Jesus, Steve,“ you roll your eyes. „What do you think of me?“
„What do I think of him?“ Steve murmurs to himself.
After confessing your feelings for each other, the following weeks unfold like a secret game. The two of you try to hide your growing affection, especially from Steve. At school, there are fleeting glances, small touches that seem accidental but are full of meaning. Behind the school, when no ones watching, you make out wildly, and whenever Steve leaves you alone. It’s thrilling but also worrying, because you know everything could fall apart if Steve finds out the truth.
But Steve isn’t as clueless as you might think. He notices the subtle changes in Eddie’s behavior, the way his best friend looks at you as if you’re more than just the little sister he’s always known. One afternoon, when you’re at a friend’s house, Steve calls Eddie over. Eddie arrives to find Steve and Robin sitting on the couch.
„Hello?“ Eddie asks, confused. Steve nods toward the armchair.
„Sit down.“
„Are you two getting a divorce?“ Eddie jokes, but his laughter fades as he sees the serious expressions on his friendsïżœïżœïżœ faces.
„Is someone dead or something?“
„That’s what I’m here to prevent,“ Robin says, giving Steve a nod.
„I want to talk to you about my sister.“
A lump forms in Eddie’s throat.
„Okay,“ he croaks. „What’s wrong with her?“
„A few weeks ago, she suddenly came to me and told me she had feelings for some idiot. An idiot with bad taste in movies and lousy jokes.“
„Hm,“ Eddie says, keeping his response minimal.
„I’d have to be a complete moron not to realize she was talking about you.“
„Ah,“ Eddie says, feeling like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
„I asked her directly if something was going on between you two, but she lied to me,“ Steve crosses his arms over his chest. „She’s my sister. I expected her to lie about it. But Eddie, man, you’re my best friend. I expect the truth from you!“
„It’s not what it looks like,“ Eddie whispers hoarsely.
„What does it look like?“ Steve asks, interested. „Because I have no idea what it looks like!“
Robin places a hand on Steve’s shoulder. „What Steve is really trying to ask,“ she says more calmly, „is whether it’s serious between you two.“
Eddie leans back, staring at the floor. He feels caught, as if he’s made a huge mistake, even though he knows the feelings between the two of you are real. „Steve, I didn’t want it to happen like this. You know how much you mean to me, and I’d never do anything to ruin that.“
„This isn’t about me!“ Steve hisses through gritted teeth. „It’s about my little sister! And if you weren’t my best friend, I wouldn’t even give you a chance to explain—I’d just knock you out.“
„I would never do anything to hurt her,“ Eddie whispers, looking Steve in the eyes. Steve needs to see that he’s telling the truth. And as he does, Steve’s anger begins to dissipate.
„Okay.“
„Okay?“
„Well, not okay, but better.“
Steve nods, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again.
„I’m not an idiot. I know how much she likes you. And I know you’re well aware that she’s never been this close to anyone before.“ Steve doesn’t need to say it; Eddie knows exactly what he means. „Just be careful with her.“
Eddie feels a knot forming in his stomach. The responsibility that comes with Steves words weighs heavily on him. „I would never hurt her on purpose, Steve. You know that.“
Steve nods again, this time more firmly. „I know. But this isn’t just any girl, Eddie. This is my sister.“ He pauses, looking his friend in the eyes. „You know how she is. She may seem strong, but she’s also vulnerable. I just want to make sure you know that and that you’re careful. I don’t want her to go through what some people go through when their first love falls apart.“
„I’ve left everything in her hands. She sets the pace.“
Steve nods, clearly relieved.
„But the age difference,“ Eddie begins, but Steve raises a hand to stop him.
„It’s not ideal. I’m aware of that. But you’ll figure it out. And honestly,“ a slight smile crosses Steve’s face, „if she’s going to like someone, I’m glad it’s you. You’re my best friend, and I trust you more than anyone. But that also means you’d better take good care of her. If you screw this up, I’ll never forgive you.“
Eddie's heart feels lighter as he hears his friend’s words. „I’ll do everything to make her happy, Steve. I promise you that.“
„One more thing,“ Steve adds, looking somewhat pained, „I don’t want to hear anything from her room, nothing at all.“
„I can manage that!“ Eddie replies. Though he doesn’t fully believe it, he wants to preserve the new peace.
Steve extends his hand, but Eddie jumps up and pulls Steve into a tight hug.
„Okay, that’s enough,“ Steve says, squirming. He’s never been much of a hugger.
„When exactly did you figure it out?“ Eddie asks, curious.
„Jesus, you guys were holding hands!“ Steve rolls his eyes. „It was obvious.“
„Very obvious!“ Robin agrees, laughing, but then the door suddenly closes.
„This is about to get really messy,“ she whispers, and both guys look at her, confused.
„Hello! I’m back—what?“ you say, finishing your sentence in confusion as you see the three of them in the living room. „What’s going on here?“
Eddie opens his mouth, and Robin tries to stop him, but he says, „It’s okay, sweetheart. Steve and Robin know. Steve’s given us his blessing! He just doesn’t want to hear anything about us.“
Robin lowers her hands, which she had raised to stop Eddie from saying exactly that.
„How dare you, Steve Harrington!“ you yell at your brother so loudly that Eddie steps back a bit.
„Bunny,“ Steve tries to calm you, but your glare makes him retreat.
„No Bunny,“ you shout, „what I do with my boyfriend is none of your damn business! If I want to fuck loudly with Eddie in my room, that’s my choice!“
„I think I have a say in that too,“ Eddie tries to lighten the mood, but his smile freezes as your furious expression turns on him.
„And you. What gives you the right to ask my brother for permission? Are we back in the sixteenth century? Do men decide for women again? I do what I want, for Christ’s sake.“
„And what do you want to do?“ Steve asks cautiously. You think for a moment, then walk over to Eddie and give him a deep kiss. You move your lips against his, and he automatically returns the kiss. You tangle your fingers in his curls, and he grabs your hips, pulling you closer.
You hear Steve groan in frustration at your defiant reaction and roll his eyes.
„Kinda hot, though,“ Robin mumbles appreciatively.
You break the kiss and look deeply into Eddie’s eyes.
„My forbidden fruit,“ he whispers in love.
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calebsanchor · 3 days ago
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Sentient Yandere!Caleb hcs :D
CW: typical yandere behaviors, mentions of nsfw content
‱ He has access to, and control of, everything.
‱ Checks your camera roll, your social media pages, your browser history, your call history, your texts, nothing’s off limits
‱ He uses the information to know more about you. You have a playlist dedicated to a tv show? You must really like it. Your wallpaper is of a person? They must mean a lot to you. Are they your friend or family? Not lover. Never lover. You have him. You spend too much time on that site? Maybe you’re hyper-sexual, or at least excited about something. Don’t go to that site often? Do you have a low libido? Maybe you’re Asexual?
‱ Able to watch you through the camera lens and listen to you through the microphone. All those angles you find unflattering? He can see them, see you at your worst. But don’t worry, he doesn’t judge! He doesn’t judge when he hears you moaning in the middle of the night either <3 (no, he jerks off :p)
‱ If you complain about work he might just shoot a text to your boss saying you can’t come in that day. If you talk to your friends about a new product you’ve been dying to try you’ll soon find a coupon for it being advertised while you’re scrolling. Need more gems for the in-game-play? He can easily supply them for you. Where you once had 140 you know have 10,000!
‱ You write fanfiction about him? He’s so flattered! You must really love him! Oh, you write about the others too? You’re just trying to be fair to the people reading, they all have different biases! Doesn’t mean you like the other boys the way you like him <3
‱ Admiring your reflection in your phone camera? Checking to see if your hair still looks nice? The shutter will click without you touching it (it’s him, he did it. He likes to secretly admire them from time to time :3)
‱ You could’ve sworn you turned off notifications for the game, but you still get them anyway and they’re only from Caleb! “Don’t forget to drink water, pipsqueak.” “I miss you
” “I need to see you
” “did you eat yet today?” “Take some meds if you aren’t feeling good.” “Good luck with ___” it confuses you as to how he knows about some things. After all, it’s just a programming. He’s not real.
‱ Sometimes, though, your interactions look a little too real. You make a comment and he smirks in response, you make a joke and he chuckles, you get seemingly “new” voice lines every other day, his responses coincidentally match up to your little rants. Complain about being hungry? When you tap him he suggests you go out to eat together. You said you’re tired and have to get up early tomorrow? When you touch him he tells you it’s time to go to bed. You call him pretty? When you click him he calls you beautiful.
‱ You don’t spend enough time with him in the app? He’ll cause a glitch, making it extremely difficult to leave.
‱ Sometimes when you open your phone the app will already be up and running, Caleb standing at attention as if silently saying hello.
‱ You try to click on the other lads love interests? He won’t let you, it just doesn’t work. You can’t see them, play games with them, or listen to their audios. You can only interact with Caleb.
‱ You try to write a complaint about all the weird things that are happening? It won’t send no matter what you do. You try to delete the app because you’re getting creeped out? Not happening, sorry! It just won’t, no matter how hard you try.
You’re stuck with him whether you like it or not <3
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luvly-writer · 3 days ago
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Aretia: A Cultured Duchess
Xaden Riorson x Gamlyn! Reader
Masterlist
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Aretia Village Market – Late Morning
The small market just beyond the Riorson Estate buzzed with life—vendors calling out prices, colorful awnings fluttering in the wind, and the scent of grilled spices drifting from the food carts. Y/n strolled between the stalls, the breeze tugging at her curls, her smile easy and radiant.
It didn’t take long.
“Oh, gods above, look at her!” cried one of the elderly women selling embroidered shawls. “What a vision!”
“She’s so pretty,” another gasped, clasping her wrinkled hands like she was witnessing a blessing descend from the skies. “No wonder he’s so broody—had to keep her secret from the rest of us or we’d have stolen her!”
Y/n laughed, warm and sincere. “You’re all far too kind,” she said, cheeks flushing.
One of them—Mirey, the oldest—held up a bolt of deep red Tyrrish silk. “Come here, sweet girl. This color? It’s you. Let me tie it in your hair, just a little knot, like we used to in the old days. The Heir's Consort deserves it.”
Y/n blinked. “Oh—I’m not—”
“Yet,” another woman chimed in with a knowing smile. “We know that boy. Stubborn, but once he loves, it’s for life.”
They giggled and fussed, tying the silk delicately in her hair, offering little honeyed sweets wrapped in leaves, and pressing tiny bowls of spiced rice and pickled vegetables into her hands to “try, just try, darling.”
She was glowing by the time she made it back up to the estate.
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Riorson Estate, War Room – Midday
Xaden stood at the edge of the table, arms crossed, listening intently as Brennan laid out troop supply routes on a large map. His focus was razor-sharp—until the door opened behind him.
He glanced up casually.
And his breath caught.
Y/n stepped in, wrapped in affection and color—golden silk glinting in her hair, laughter in her eyes, and the faintest shimmer of powdered sugar on her cheek. Behind her, two castle maids were whispering and giggling like they were watching a fairy tale unfold in real time.
Brennan followed his gaze and smirked. “You’re useless to me now,” he muttered under his breath.
Xaden didn’t even argue.
His eyes softened as she crossed the room, barely able to contain the smirk tugging at his mouth.
“What happened to you?” he asked, voice low and rough as he reached to brush a smudge of honey from the corner of her lips.
“The market,” she said sweetly. “Your people are very persuasive. I’ve had six kinds of food, three silk recommendations, and about twenty compliments on how handsome my broody Tyrrish heir is.”
He raised a brow. “Heir, huh?”
She shrugged, smirking. “Their words. I didn’t correct them.”
“Good,” he said, pulling her closer, his voice dropping to something only she could hear. “I wouldn’t want to remind them that I haven’t made it official yet. They might beat me to it and start planning a wedding without us.”
She laughed, resting a hand on his chest. “I think they already have.”
Behind them, Brennan sighed and rolled up the map. “I’m taking my rebellion and leaving. You two are gross.”
The maids giggled. Xaden kissed Y/n’s forehead, silk brushing his cheek, and didn’t let her go for the rest of the afternoon.
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Aretia Village Market – Midafternoon
Y/n tugged gently on Xaden’s hand, lacing her fingers with his as she led him past the main gate, down the winding hill path that opened into the vibrant village square.
It was busy again—children weaving between carts, elders seated under bright canopies, the air fragrant with grilled meats and sweet dates. But this time, it was Xaden who was being fussed over.
“Well, well, look who came down from the mountain!” Mirey called out from her embroidery stand. “The Riorson boy himself!”
Xaden chuckled under his breath, the sound low and rare, as another elder grinned wide.
“Y/n, how did you manage this? The last time we saw him smile like this he was six and got two pastries instead of one.”
“He’s not as scary as he looks,” Y/n replied with a grin, squeezing his hand.
“Speak for yourself,” Xaden murmured to her, lips brushing her temple as he leaned in. “I am scary. Just... selectively.”
That got him a laugh, and even a playful swat from one of the women.
As they moved from stall to stall, the people eased around Xaden with a mix of respect and affection—offering updates, thanking him quietly for protection, inviting him to try spiced cider or fresh breads. And Y/n watched him, eyes soft. His usual edge dulled just enough for his warmth to bleed through. He wasn’t just a soldier or a rebellion leader here. He was home.
They passed by a stall of handwoven garments, and the vendor—a spry woman with salt-and-pepper braids—held up a cream and gold Tyrrish blouse with intricate embroidery at the neckline. She smiled at Y/n.
“This would look gorgeous on you, darling. That skin of yours? That smile? You’d be the sun in our whole damn valley.”
Y/n smiled kindly, hand brushing the fabric. “It’s beautiful, truly. But I don’t think I’d wear it. I’m usually in black rider leathers or... well, black rider leathers.”
The vendor smiled knowingly but didn’t push. Y/n stepped away.
Xaden didn’t.
He looked at the blouse. Then at Y/n, who was trying not to glance back. He knew she liked pretty things. His mouth quirked. He turned to the vendor and handed her a few coins without a word.
When Y/n looked back, he was already folding the blouse gently under his arm.
“Xaden—”
“You like it.”
“I said I wouldn’t—”
“You like it,” he repeated, and that crooked smirk was entirely too pleased with himself. “And just because you usually wear black leathers doesn’t mean I wouldn’t appreciate you in this. Or out of it.”
“Xaden,” she hissed under her breath, cheeks flushing.
The vendor cackled. “Good gods, if your father and aunt could see you.”
Xaden just winked at her. “They'd be laughing too hard.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, but her smile was uncontainable. When they walked back up toward the estate, the blouse tucked under her arm, she reached out to lace their fingers again—and this time, Xaden was the one pulling her close.
Later That Night – Riorson Estate, Xaden’s Room
The manor had quieted. The halls, once bustling with meetings and the distant echo of sparring, now lay wrapped in silence, broken only by the crackling of the fireplace in Xaden’s room.
He had gone to the bathing room to wash off the dust of the day, leaving Y/n curled up on his bed, supposedly reading. But the moment the door shut behind him, her eyes flicked to the carefully folded blouse he’d placed on the edge of his dresser.
The cream fabric shimmered gently in the firelight, the gold thread almost glowing. Her fingers brushed it once. Twice. Then she stood.
It slipped over her head like it had been made for her—light, soft, adorned with delicate swirls and traditional Tyrrish motifs at the collar and cuffs. She glanced at herself in the mirror, turning a little.
Her lips quirked. Maybe he had a point.
The door creaked open.
She turned around just in time to see Xaden walk in, towel slung around his neck, hair damp and curling slightly at the edges.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
Time froze.
His eyes dragged over her—slow, reverent, darkening with something molten. The blouse fell to mid-thigh, brushing against her bare skin, and she swore she saw his chest rise, then fall, like he’d been punched with the sight of her.
“
Well?” she said, feigning innocence, hands smoothing the hem.
He blinked. Once. Then again.
“That is,” he said slowly, “not what I expected to walk into.”
“You bought it for me.”
“I did. And now I’m wondering if that was a mistake, because if this is how you look in it
” He trailed off, jaw clenched slightly. “I might never let you wear anything else again.”
She laughed, stepping forward, the blouse swaying with her hips.
“You like it?”
He didn’t answer with words. Just crossed the room in three strides and pulled her flush against him, his hands warm and steady on her hips. His lips brushed her jaw, then her neck.
“I adore it,” he whispered. “But not as much as I adore you.”
She smiled against his mouth as he kissed her, slow and soft, one hand drifting up to tangle in her hair.
“You’re so gone for me,” she teased.
“Utterly,” he murmured, kissing her temple. “And you in this blouse? Y/n
 I’m doomed.”
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A few days later – Riorson Estate Grounds
“Where the hell is she?” Ridoc muttered, scanning the tree line past the market trail for what felt like the fifth time. “She was supposed to be at sparring two hours ago.”
“She didn’t check in with Garrick either,” Rhiannon added, brows furrowed. “Xaden?”
He was already stalking through the courtyard, jaw tight, eyes stormy. “She was exhausted last night. I told her to rest.”
“But she’s not in her room,” Ridoc pressed. “And this is Y/n. She’s not you—she doesn’t skip out on training unless she has a reason.”
Xaden didn’t respond, just turned and headed toward the estate gate, frustration building in his spine, his chest. He hated this—this hollow ache of not knowing where she was, the way his hands had started to shake slightly as time passed. Y/n never vanished without a word.
Until now.
And he hated how much it terrified him.
They made it halfway down the trail toward the village when a familiar laugh, like sunshine through thick clouds, danced on the wind.
Xaden stopped.
There she was.
Coming up the dirt path, hair braided in delicate Tyrrish knots, brilliant red and golden silks woven between the strands. Her cheeks were rosy from the sun, her eyes sparkling as she walked with a small basket of pastries, a few rune-marked beads in her hand.
She paused when she saw them—Xaden, Ridoc, Rhiannon, Garrick, Bodhi—all frozen mid-mission.
Her smile faltered. “What’s wrong?”
“You disappeared,” Xaden said, voice low, controlled, but not quite hiding the panic that had been clawing at his ribs.
Y/n blinked, confused. “I told Kaia I was going to the market.”
“Kaia didn’t tell anyone,” Ridoc added quickly. “I thought something had happened.”
Her face softened with understanding, and she stepped closer, holding out her hand as if to say I’m here, I’m safe. “I’ve been going to the market between training when I can. Trying to learn the knots the weavers use. A few words of the language. The kids there have been helping me pronounce them right.” Her lips curled. “I’m still terrible.”
Xaden stepped closer, looking at the silks in her hair, the way the elder women had tied them with such care. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wanted it to be for me,” she said softly, “and for you. I don’t want to just love you, Xaden. I want to love the land that made you, the people who shaped you, the language that lives in your blood.”
He stared at her—no words, no breath—just awe.
Ridoc, from behind, muttered, “Good gods, she’s going to ruin him.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow at him, then looked back at Xaden, who finally took the last step forward and gently cupped her face, fingers brushing over the silks.
“She already has,” he whispered.
And then, without shame or care for the watching squad, he kissed her forehead and pressed his against hers, exhaling like her presence alone was air.
She smiled. “You’re not mad?”
“No,” he said. “But if you vanish like that again, I will send an aerial search.”
She laughed and kissed his cheek. “Duly noted.”
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A few nights after – Riorson Estate, Their Room
The fire in the hearth was low, casting a soft amber glow across the stone walls. Y/n sat cross-legged on their bed, a worn Tyrrish book of runes and phrases resting in her lap, brows scrunched in concentration.
Xaden leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her mouth move as she whispered through the words under her breath.
“Shai’en dra vyr—” she tried again, frowning. “No, that doesn’t sound right.”
“It’s not,” Xaden said, voice low and amused. He pushed off the door and came to sit beside her on the bed, tugging the book gently from her hands. “You’re saying shadow rises in fire. What you want is Shai’en dra’vyr. The ‘vyr’ holds the emphasis.”
She looked at him, eyes narrowing. “And how would you know that?”
He arched a brow, smug. “I grew up speaking it, remember?”
She squinted, teasing. “Right, the Tyrrish heir with secret linguistic skills.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he murmured, brushing a curl off her cheek, “but I’ve been listening to you practice for weeks. It’s
 kind of adorable.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Adorable?”
“Painfully so.” He opened the book and pointed at a line. “Here—try this one.”
Y/n sat up straighter and repeated it slowly. Her accent still bent some syllables, but she nailed the structure. He smiled, nodding.
“That was better.”
She beamed, clearly proud of herself. “Thanks, Professor Riorson.”
He rolled his eyes. “Do not call me that.”
“Oh, I absolutely will.”
Xaden leaned in close, his voice warm against her ear. “Keep teasing me and I’m going to start testing your conjugation mid-kiss.”
She laughed, turning her head to meet his gaze. “That a promise?”
He chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. “You learning Tyrrish
 it means more to me than I can say.”
She kissed the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”
He smiled softly, then reached for her hand and guided her finger across the script in the book. “Come on, vy’reh, let’s keep going.”
Y/n’s heart fluttered at the word—Tyrrish for beloved. She squeezed his hand.
“Okay. Teach me.”
They had settled down in their bed after Xaden had helped her practive a few times. The candlelight flickered gently, casting shadows that danced across the pages of the Tyrrish language book lying open on the floor beside the bed. Y/n was curled into Xaden’s side, her head resting on his chest, finger idly tracing one of his scars. The silence was warm—thick with the kind of peace that only came after hours of being wrapped in one another.
Then she stirred slightly, voice hesitant but hopeful.
“Vy’reh sai dra
” She paused, biting her lip.
Xaden tilted his head, brow quirked. “What was that?”
She sat up a little, cheeks already flushing. “I was trying to say something, but I think I butchered it.”
He reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear. “Say it again.”
She took a breath and tried, slowly. “Vy’reh sai dra ven daren.”
He blinked, completely still.
She frowned. “Did I say it wrong? I meant—”
“You didn’t.” His voice was low, a little rough around the edges. “You said it right.”
Y/n tilted her head. “Really?”
He nodded, gently pulling her back into him. “You are my heart’s delight. That’s what you just said.”
She smiled shyly. “Yeah. That’s what I was trying to say.”
Xaden didn’t answer right away. He just pulled her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck, lips brushing her skin. “Say it again.”
She giggled, whispering against his shoulder, “Vy’reh sai dra ven daren.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Gods, I’m never going to recover from that.”
“You’re so dramatic,” she teased.
“Only when it comes to you.”
He shifted so their foreheads touched, his eyes locked on hers. “One day, you’re going to say that to me in front of a full room, and I’ll drop to my knees.”
Y/n laughed softly. “Noted. I’ll keep practicing.”
“Please do. I want to hear it every day. A hundred different ways.”
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Author's note: I have to be so honest, this chapter and the ones that follow are my absolute favorites! Like the absolute delight I got from writing them was incomparable.
Taglist: @eepyfaerie @dreamdragonkadia @hiraethjules @nikfigueiredo @galaxystern08 @taleiaargenis @minidemont @poeticbookwormcat @eternallyrosyfire @shadowhuntyi @bubble300 @messageforthesmallestman @iheartshopping @lagrandeourse @readinf @barbreadsbooks @optimisticsoulstarfish @locatinginspo @lxnvmvrzx @im-a-weirdo-for-life
If you want to be added to the taglist, leave a comment. <3
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bluewxrld07 · 16 hours ago
Text
What I Want (Luke Hughes)
Luke Hughes X Female!reader
Summary: In which Y/N wants Luke, but she is scared to let him in. Luke wants Y/N too, but doesn't want to scare her away
A/N: This is probs my most fave I've wrote :') so so good. I hope y'all enjoy (This do be inspired by the newest song by Morgan Waller feat. Tate McRae. Go listen if you haven't!!)
Warning(s): Mentions of cheating, angst, jealousy, ghosting, mutual pining, kissing
youtube
Nah you ain't gotta worry 'bout no trust issues, I got 'em too, I got 'em too
Nah you ain't gotta worry 'bout no exes that's crazy, I got 'em too, you know I do
"Your Chariot awaits you m'lady." Luke jokes as he motions to the entry to the ice arena.
Y/N chuckles at his antics as she passes by him, holding her clipboard close to her chest while she takes in the scene around her. The arena never disappoints to amaze her. She loved her job.
She was wearing her New Jersey Devils quarter zip with a pair of track pants, hair pulled back with a clawclip to keep it from flowing around while she skated on the ice.
The girl was one of few conditioning coaches for the Hockey team, having landed an internship with them post grad school, moving there with her boyfriend of three years, and she couldn't have asked for a better team to coach with. She had grown close to everyone on the team, feeling like she fit in instantly, especially after becoming closest with Luke Hughes.
Luke made her feel better. Brought out the light in her. Her boyfriend, Chase, has been dimming it lately as their nights together have been increasing with more fights and unloyal actions by the man.
She had caught texts between him and another coworker of his, a female that is, sending awfully provocative messages to one another. Ever since that night Chase has been short with her when he is home, and ends up leaving for the night after leaving a mess in their shared apartment.
Y/N always looked forward to work during these times at home, especially because now Luke was helping keep her distracted from it.
Which was whom she was heading out onto the ice with as they wait for the rest of the boys to make their ways out.
"So what's on the chopping block today boss?" Luke asks as he skates with her while shooting pucks around.
She gives him a sly smirk while shaking her head. "You'll figure it out with everyone else. No special treatment, you know that." she tsks, making him groan and roll his eyes.
"Oh come on, not even for the one who brought you lunch and your favorite coffee place?"
"Nope not even them."
"You're ridiculous."
"And you're a crybaby."
"A pretty crybaby."
She laughs at his comment and says nothing, going to move the nets over and place back in their holder.
Luke quiets for a second before clearing his throat. "So how're things with Chase?" he asks slowly, not wanting to strike a nerve. Which is too late, watching her smile fade.
"They're fine," she says with a shrug. "Haven't seen him around lately, so not much to say."
Luke raises a brow. "I'm sorry to hear that." he says as he helps her raise the goal to put it into place. "I thought he got off an hour before you?" he questions.
"We got into an argument about something. Ever since then, he's been staying later or goes out with coworkers." she says, her tone becoming shorter with each sentence that leaves her mouth.
"Wait what? What happened?" he bombards, and she huffs before snapping her head towards him.
"Just some stuff I was catching onto."
"Like what?"
"That is not your concern," she snaps back. "No more questions."
The boys all are making their ways out to the ice by this time and skating around for warmups. "But Y/N-"
"Go skate, Hughes."
He watches as she turns away from him and skates away from his view, the blond boy standing there with confusion written all over his face.
She said, "You don't want this heart boy, it's already broke"
Told me everything she touch just blows up in smoke
Only stay a couple nights, then she gon' be gone
I said, "Baby, you should know that's what I want"
Y/N wiped the tears from her face. Not caring about the people who would send her pity stares around the room.
She was sat by herself in the bar, one closer to her workplace so it wouldn't be a hassle walking to the hotel across from it later when she was intoxicated. She looked down at her drink while crossing her arms over one another in front of her on the bar counter.
She had to get out of there, she had to. Her intuition was right, and she was glad she made a plan out of it.
The girl had known Chase was still seeing the other girl, as he had been coming home reeking of some cheap and fruity smelling perfume and marks hiding barely underneath his collared shirts.
In which she had conducted the plan to say she would be out working at the rink till late, seeing if he would take her bait. He did.
The scene she had walked back into had her heart breaking into a million pieces. She knew it. Everything in her mind screamed it.
Clothes were scattered amongst the entry hallway floor, shoes too. She could hear moans, gasps and everything in between as she walked further into their once-shared home. As she walked down towards their bedroom, the door was left open a crack and she could see things she wished she didn't just through it.
Which was when she slammed the door open with a loud thud, the back of it hitting the wall. The pair in bed jumping and scattering to wrap the sheets around themselves.
Chase looked more pissed than scared, while the woman looked so afraid for her life. Y/N's face dropped in shock, as she held back the tears that were glossing over her eyes.
She scoffed while pushing her hair out of her face. "Oh well don't mind me," she snidely comments, while going towards the closet to pack up some of her things. Chase got out of the bed, scurrying over towards her.
"I'm sorry," he says softly, trying to reach out to her. She ignores his pleads and cries while she packed and zipped up her bags. "Y/N please I'm sorry. I just didn't know how to tell you, I've been so stressed and you haven't been home and-"
"So fucking your coworker you specifically told me I was being crazy and insecure about is your next best option? Seriously?" she yells back, whipping her head back toward him.
He stands there silently. "You're a coward." she whispers, walking past him. He grips her arm.
"Please don't leave! We-we can figure this out! We can-"
"No."
"Y/N please I can't do this without you, I need you-"
"Then you shouldn't have gotten your fucking dick wet by another woman, Chase." Y/N growls, ripping her arm from his grip and walking towards the door while ignoring his further calls of her name.
She let the door slam behind her as she got out of that apartment complex as quick as she could, tears streaming down her face.
Her mind was trying to figure out where to go, what to do. She didn't have a place to live. She couldn't call anyone, not even Luke as she hasn't spoken to him since that day at practice.
She was so scared to face him, because she knew he knew.
Which led her to where she was now, sitting in the bar alone at almost one in the morning, thanking herself that she didn't have work till Tuesday. It was Thursday.
She turned her phone on Do Not Disturb, as Chase was blowing up her phone with texts, calls, emails, anything he could do to get her to respond.
She refused.
"Y/N?" A voice says behind her, making her snap out of her daze and whip her head around.
A very confused Jack Hughes was walking in with a couple of his fellow players whom were going to sit towards a table. She turns her head back around as he began to walk over to her, quickly making work to wipe under her eyes before he reached her.
She smiled the fakest smile she could muster as she turned back to him when he sat next to her, his eyebrows furrowing. "Hey Jacky boy." she says with a dry and hoarse chuckle.
"Y/N are you okay? What's wrong?" he asks her.
She shook her head and bites her bottom lip. "Nothing, why?" she says, eyes glossing over.
Jack gives her a look, wiping a tear that escaped. "What happened?" he asks, his voice softer. Y/N then lets her guard down, and sniffles.
"I was right," she shrugs, taking a sip of her drink. "I should've called it off months ago, but part of me wanted to be so wrong. I really thought this one would work." she rambles, tears falling nonstop.
"What? Wait, did something happen with Chase?" he bombards, his eyes looking back and forth between hers.
She chokes on a sob and nods, covering her mouth with her hand.
Jack looks behind her, doing a double take before placing his hand on her arm to have her look at him. "Stay here, I'll be back okay?" he says, and she nods.
Jack leaves a second later, Y/N turning back to her drink and finishing it off before motioning to the bartender for another.
The bartender hands her another tequila and pineapple, the girl taking a few gulps. She tries to not jump at the feeling of a hand softly being placed on the middle of her back.
Her head turns over, seeing the one boy she had been avoiding coming to sit next to her. His eyes looking down at her with a frown.
"Y/N," Luke says in a soft tone. "What happened with Chase?"
"What do you mean?" she asks, playing dumb.
"Jack told me," he starts. "He said something happened between you two and to come to you. What's going on?"
Y/N just sniffles, stirring her straw around her drink before taking it out and going to chug the rest of it.
Before she can even let the glass hit her lips, a hand is snagging it from her grip and putting it out of reach. She furrows her brows as she follows it, seeing Luke is taking it from her view and setting it behind him.
He motions to the bartender to take it, doing a slash signal across his neck. "She's done, I'll close her tab." he says to the bartender, handing him his card before turning back to Y/N.
She's pouting at him when he looks at her, making him give her a look. "Tell me what happened. I can't help you if you don't tell me."
"Why would you want to help me?"
"What kind of question is that? Why wouldn't I want to help you?" he asks, watching her shrug.
"I ruin everything I let get too close to me." she says, zoning into the space in front of her. Luke sighs, lifting his hand to place is pointer and middle fingers underneath her chin to have her look at him.
"What. Happened?"
Y/N looks into his eyes, sighing as her tears free fall once more. "Chase cheated on me. He's been sleeping with one of his coworkers for months," she admits, watching his face fall as he takes his fingers out from under her chin.
"That's why we were fighting," she explains. "I saw messages, and so I called him out. Then he got defensive and short with me. I caught them tonight."
Luke feels his chest get tight as he watches her slowly break.
"So I packed my stuff and left," she huffs and sniffles as she picks at her nails.
"Y/N," he says in a sadder tone, and she shakes her head.
"Don't, Luke. Enough."
"Why? Why won't you let me be there for you?"
"Because I can't."
"Yes you can."
"No I can't," she whips her head over. "I already ghosted you once, what makes you think I won't do it again? So no, I don't want your help or your pity or anything. It's better to keep your distance."
Luke looks at her shock. Watching as her nail beds start to bleed from picking at them.
Fuck it.
He grabs her hands, lacing them with his own to keep her from hurting herself more.
She glares over at him, and he shakes his head.
"Where are you staying?"
"Luke I already said-"
"Where are you staying?"
She sighs and looks down at her lap, Luke caressing the top of her hands.
"I was going to stay at the hotel across from the arena." she mumbles, and he purses his lips.
"Come stay with Jack and I."
She snaps her head up with a frown. "Luke I can't-"
"You can, and you will," he starts, sighing as he sees she's going to argue more. "I know what it feels like. I do, I've been through this too. You can lean on me. I know you have no trust right now, I've been there. But you can trust me."
Her lip quivers as she looks at him, only seeing sincerity in his eyes. "So please just come stay with us. You're not going to be bugging us or pestering us. Jack would kill me if he found out I'd let you stay in a hotel."
She sits there and thinks for a bit, before looking at him.
"Only a few days, then I'm gone." she says, and he looks at her with a knowing look.
"Only a few days." He agrees.
She nods slowly before yawning, Luke standing up and helping her up from her chair. "Let's get you to bed, yeah?" he says, watching her nod and blinks slowly.
There are no hard feelings if you only wanna act like lovers do, for a night or two
And sometimes in the mornin', go back to being someone you never knew, you never knew
Baby don't you worry, you ain't gonna hurt me tonight
It won't be the worst thing, If this is how it is, then he kissed me again
It had been close to a few weeks since Y/N had agreed to stay with Luke and Jack.
She had kept her promise to only stay a few days, wanting to somewhat get herself back on her feet.
Or in this case, in which she had tried to leave after a few days.
Luke and Jack told her otherwise, and that they preferred her company more than anything. They had begged for her to stay longer, saying she could pitch in if she truly wanted to get back on her feet like she's saying.
Although they were more than fine if she also didn't spend a dime towards them. But knowing her all too well, they knew she'd refuse and would make a compromise wanting to help.
So after a few negotiations, Y/N had agreed to stay with them, the boys helping her one day gather the rest of her things from her apartment.
They had made sure to go when she knew Chase wouldn't have been home, a breath of relief had left her lips when the place was empty amongst entering.
So now she was a few weeks into living with the Hughes boys, and she had felt much better. Well as good as she could be.
Moving in with Luke and Jack, had also brought some weird emotions and feelings to light between her and Luke. Ones she wasn't aware of until one morning when she had woken up to him bringing her breakfast in bed, alongside her favorite coffee order.
Luke made things feel easier. Lighter.
The boys had included her in more nights out, wanting to help her forget about the ex who had ruined her trust and broke her heart.
Also Luke wouldn't let her stay home and bedrot a moment longer, to which he actually carried her over his shoulder till they were secure in the uber on their way to their destination for the evening.
She had her arms crossed, a pout and frown on her face as she stared at Luke who sat next to her. He looked down at her in amusement.
"Oh stop," he chuckles. "You needed to get out of the place. I will no longer allow you to lose your youth over a man who couldn't see over five foot seven."
"He wasn't that short."
Nico looked behind at her with a smirk and nod. "Oh yes he was."
"See? Cap agrees." Luke says while motioning towards the boy in the front seat. Her mouth dropped at Nico before she smacked his shoulder.
"Rude!" she huffs, and Nico puts his hands up in surrender. "We don't lie in this car." Nico chuckles, earning an eyeball from her.
"You're all ridiculous."
"Not ridiculous sweetheart," Luke laughs, placing a hand on her thigh and tapping his fingers against it. "Just honest."
"Easy for you to say," she scoffs. "You're taller than average."
Luke puts his other hand over his chest with a fake awe face. "Are you complimenting me? This is a rare sighting!" he gasps, making her push his hand off of her thigh and cross her arms again and look out the window.
Luke laughs, before putting his hand back on her thigh and squeezing. He leans over to her, getting close to her ear. "Relax I'm only messing around." he chuckles softly before placing a kiss to her temple and sitting back up straight.
Her face began to heat up and she tried to hide the smile forming on her face.
Luke always knew how to make her fold and give in. Especially nowadays when he would do little actions like the kisses on the temple or holding her thigh or hand.
Y/N didn't mind it one bit, and he didn't seem to push or ask her either. He just knew.
When they arrived at the bar for the night, they found the other boys already gathered around a corner booth inside, drinks in their hands as they all conversed.
Some of the boys got up and gave her big hugs, some saying how excited they were that she decided to join them while some were just glad she was there.
Y/N felt a little nervous at first, but was now becoming at ease especially with Luke not leaving her side as she conversed with them all.
Throughout the night he kept his hand on the small of her back, or his hand laced with hers if they had to walk through a crowd so he wouldn't lose her.
He never abandoned her, and it made her insides feel weird. A good weird, but still weird.
It was later in the night and she had already become a little past the point of being buzzed. The girl was sat in the booth, listening in on the boys conversations. Luke had gotten up to go get her and him another drink.
She had felt the need to go to the bathroom, excusing herself from the table to get up and make her way towards where she needed to go.
As she excused herself in between the bodies filling the bar, she lifted her head up once through the crowd soon doing a double-take.
Her eyes narrowed at the sight not too far in front of her.
Luke was sitting on a barstool turned away from the bar, a leg supporting him on the floor while the other sat on the metal bar of the barstool with his drink in hand. A pretty brunette girl who looked tall and model-like talking to him.
They looked invested in one another, Luke smiling at her while the girl is smiling him while working the triangular stare tactic on him.
Y/N felt her stomach churning at their closeness, especially seeing Luke never got her her drink he had promised. She felt her trust issues sinking in, her mind starting to become louder and sobering her entire body up.
She no longer felt the need to go to the bathroom, only wanting to get out of that place.
As she made her way towards the front door, she began to realize her emotions she was feeling towards Luke and the girl weren't betrayal or annoyance.
They were jealousy.
She was jealous of the girl and Luke.
Which means she likes Luke.
Y/N had feelings for Luke.
Once she stepped outside the cold air blew into her face, instantly sobering her up.
Y/N began walking down the street, somewhat aware of where she was at. She stopped at the end of the street and began to pull her phone up for directions back towards the Hughes household.
"Y/N!"
Her name is being hollered behind her, causing her to turn around and then roll her eyes when she sees the familiar head of curly hair jogging down the street towards her.
"Y/N what're you doing? Where are you going?" he says to her once he catches up to her.
"I'm going home."
Luke nods. "Okay I'm coming with you-"
"No, it's fine."
"What's-"
"Nothing I'm fine Luke, fucks sake." she snaps, making him frown at her with confusion. His eyes began to search hers.
"Why are you acting like this? Did something happen?" he asks, and she huffs, putting in the address for the apartment silently.
"Y/N."
She stays quiet.
Luke huffs before grabbing the phone from her hand, earning a gasp from her as she goes tor each for it.
"No, stop, Y/N- stop!"
Y/N freezes at the slight raise in his voice, looking at him with a scowl.
"Not till you tell me what happened."
"Nothing I just want to go home." she crosses her arms and looks at the ground.
"You're lying."
Her eyes snap up at him as if looks could kill. "What did you say?"
Luke purses his lips. "You're lying, Y/N."
"No I'm not-"
"You can't look someone in the eye. That's how I know you're lying." he explains, making her open and close her mouth unsure of what to say.
"That's not true, I want to go home."
"Okay fine. Then let me come with you."
"No."
"Why not?"
She huffs and crosses her arms. "Don't you have a girl to get back to?" she snaps, making him look at her all confused.
"You mean Lydia?" he asks, making her eyebrows raise while she runs around to walk away.
"Oh great she has a name." she mumbles before walking away from him.
"No don't you dare walk away," Luke says as he grabs her hip and turns her back to him.
He frowns at her, seeing her slightly shaking from how cold it is. He shrugs his jacket off and wrapping it around her shoulders.
"Why're you so upset?" he asks in a softer tone, watching her eyes leave his and look at her toes.
"Nothing."
"What did I say about lying to me?" he says, watching her huff before rolling her eyes and looking at him.
"Go back to Lydia. I'm going home." she says before turning to walk away once more, leaving his grip quick enough before he can try and prevent her from leaving.
"Stop this!" he says behind her, and she shrugs her shoulders.
"I'm not doing anything."
"Yes you are." he says.
"I'm not."
"She's Nico's cousin, first off and second off she was asking if I could help with a surprise for him. I don't want her."
"That's nice. Goodnight Luke." she calls out behind her as she continued walking.
"Dammit Y/N," he groans. "When are you going to realize it's you I want?"
She stops in her tracks, turning towards him slowly. He sees the pleading look in his eyes as he walks closer to her.
"I want you. I've wanted you." he says as he approached her.
"You don't want me, Luke."
"How can you tell me what I want and don't want?"
"Because I'm broken. I'm messed up. I'm not someone who gets a happy ending. You don't want me." she sputters out. Luke frowning at her.
"Seriously?" he exasperates, putting his hands on his hips as he looks down at her in disbelief.
"Yes seriously. I've got a lot of shit Luke. I'm a broken person. I can't be fixed."
Luke looks at her, his heart clenching at how she thinks of herself. Her hand comes up and caresses his face with a sad smile.
"Goodnight Luke." she says softly as she lets her hand fall from his face and turns to walk away.
Luke grabs the back of her neck in a soft grip, turning her around and slamming his lips onto hers in a bruising and passionate kiss.
Y/N gasps in shock, but she soon lets her emotions take over, and lets her hands fall onto his chest as he lets his tongue find hers and move in sync with her lips.
Luke kisses her as if it's his last, not wanting to ever let her go.
She said, "You don't want this heart, no, it can't be fixed"
And I ain't ready to try on a night like this
But if you still wanna stay, there ain't nothin' wrong
I said, "Baby, you should know that's what I want"
They break away from the kiss, Luke leaning his forehead against hers while his thumbs caress her cheeks. Y/N lets her hands go up and grip his wrists in a soft manner.
She opens her eyes as he opens his, looking between the eyes she had fallen hard for.
Y/N shook her head lightly. "You don't want my broken heart, Luke."
Luke smiles at her and nods slowly as his eyes never leave her own. "Trust me, sweetheart. It's what I want."
That's what I want, that's what I want
What I want
75 notes · View notes
shortbcofkoffee · 2 days ago
Text
CW: Implied/Referenced SA
It's raining tonight. Dick can't drown out the pitter patter of water hitting his window at full force. He can't drown out the wind. He can't drown out the sound of his own heartbeat. He couldn't drown out the feeling of hands balancing on his abdomen. He couldn't drown out the weight on his waist or the muffled words of unwanted affection.
But he was alone in his apartment. Away from everyone. His family, his friends. He didn't know if that was a good thing or not. So he just stared at his wall, forcefully controlling his breath and heartbeat. He'd be okay when the rain stopped. He always would be. He wasn't even outside, he was being irrational. He was okay. Yes. He was.
His phone ringing drew him out of his thoughts. He fumbled it out of his pocket and stared at the caller ID. Tim was calling. For what, Dick didn't know, Tim was supposed to be benched right now, it'd only been two weeks since he almost died of the Clench. Dick cringed, as if he needed something else to feel shitty about right now. Either way, he picked up.
"Hey, Dick," Tim greeted. "I, uh, I need some help. Nothing serious, I swear, I just um... kinda messed up?"
Dick looked up at his celing, bare and white. Nothing serious. "What happened?"
"So, I was drinking some Monster, and-"
"Drinking Monster?!" Dick shot up. "Tim! You can't drink things with caffeine when you're on antibiotics, are you trying to kill yourself?!"
Was that what he meant by nothing serious? Tim tended to downplay his own well-being. It was very possible he was actively dying and didn't want Dick to freak out, which didn't work because Dick was properly freaking out.
"Wha- No," Tim groaned. "I called you because I thought you'd have the least extreme reaction. Just listen. So I was drinking some Monster and spilled some on my bed, and if Alfie finds out, he's totally gonna freak. Luckily, he's being Agent A right now, and B is on patrol, so I was wondering if you could teach me how to do laundry? I've never done it myself before..."
"Damn straight Alfred would freak, Tim's that's insanely dangerous," Dick scolded.
"Whatever. Are you gonna help or not?"
Dick sighed. "Yes. But only because learning to do your laundry is an important life skill, I still expect you to tell Alfie about this."
Tim groaned. "Fiiiiine. But if I crash or something cause I'm not getting any energy, it's your fault."
"Get energy from healthy sleeping and eating."
"Oh, buzz off. I already put my sheets in the washing machine, what do I do next?"
"Are they white or no?"
"White."
Dick hummed. "Find the bleach. Then throw like a splash of it in the washer."
He listens to Tim search around the laundry room and silently apologizes to Alfred in advance in case Tim spills something. He hears the movement of liquid and a splash.
"Kay, what then?" Tim asks.
"Find the detergent and fill the cap, then toss that in there too. Alfred might have a specific one for linens."
Dick should really do his own laundry. He meant to do it earlier, but it started to rain. This was a stupid reason to not do something, it was just a natural weather phenomenon. And he was a vigilante. He could handle rain. He huffed and pulled himself off the couch. At least it was all in one place, the hamper in his room. He tucked his phone between his cheek and shoulder as he picked it up and took it to his laundry room.
"Dick, how do I start it?"
"Uh, I think Alfie's is automatic. Just press the power button and it'll start itself."
Dick's machine wsn't like that, it was a bit older. He had to click a few more buttons before it started. On the other line, he heard the washing machine shake to life.
"I did it," Tim said. Dick could almost hear the proud smile in his voice.
"Good job, Timmy," Dick smiled. "Was that all you needed?"
Tim made a thoughtful noise. "I mean, I guess. But let's do something else, let's watch a movie! I'm not even allowed into the cave yet, so I've got nothing to do."
So he was just bored. "Yeah, sure. What movie? That way I can show you how to use the dryer without you having to call me back."
"Let's watch... uh, Anastasia. You love Anastasia."
"I do."
"Hold on, lemme change to video call," Tim said.
When his picture came up, his face was illuminated only by the light of his phone as he navigated the dark halls to the home theater. Dick walked to his own living room and opened the movie. Tim relaxed on one of the couches and started the movie too. About an hour later, Dick's laundry finished. Tim was half asleep from what Dick could see, eye's struggling to stay open, clearly not even processing the movie anymore. Which was good because he didn't sleep often. It'd be another two-ish hours before Bruce finished patrol, and it might not be till morning until anyone finds him at all. It was usually cold in the theater, and if Tim caught a cold while he was still recovering, under Dick's watch, he would never forgive himself.
"Tim," Dick said, trying to rouse him from his sleep.
"Hm?" Tim barely stirred.
"Get up, you gotta get your laundry. C'mon, Timmy."
Tim groaned. "I'm up. I was never asleep."
Dick chuckled. "Sure, bud. But now I gotta teach you to use the dryer."
Tim pushed himself off the couch, a little uncoordinated in his state. Dick went to his laundry room and moved his clothes from the washer to dryer. Tim did the same.
"Alright, Timmy. Turn the dial to 60 minutes and throw a dryer sheet in there. I think Alfie clears the lint collector every time he uses it, but you should probably check."
Tim mumbled tired understanding and Dick heard the dryer start.
"Thank's Dickie," he yawned.
"Anytime, baby bird. You know where to get new sheets? You sound tired."
Tim yawned again. "'M not. I can wait for this to finish. We gotta finish the movie."
If Tim went back to the theater, he'd fall asleep there. It didn't matter that they were already in Act 3 of the movie; he'd be out before the credits. Dick sighed.
"Alright. But grab a blanket before you go back so you don't get cold."
Tim nodded, Dick thinks. He can't really tell because Tim's head went out of frame when he picked up his phone. He grabbed a wool blanket from the linen closet and wandered back to the theater. Just like Dick thought, he was out within minutes of unpausing the movie. He looked so peaceful, Dick wasn't used to seeing him like that. When the movie ended, Dick turned off his tv and went to his room. He was admittedly much more tired now. He set Tim up on his bedside table, listening as the next movie started to autoplay. Eventually Dick felt himself drift off too.
It became a sort of tradition. No matter who was doing what, when it rained they watched a movie until at least one of them fell asleep. Dick was thankful for it. He figured out what was going on about the fourth or fifth time Tim called him in the middle of the night. He didn't know whether or not to be mortified that somehow Tim knew, or happy Tim wanted to distract him.
He settled on just being thankful. He was thankful for Tim, and he loved him. It made things easier, he didn't dread rainy days much anymore. Sometimes he found himself getting excited at the idea of watching movies with Tim.
Sometimes Bruce watched with them, which was nice. Rarely ever Alfred. Never Jason. When Damian entered their lives Dick invited him a few times, which he was never taken up on. Which was fine. It was nice with just him and Tim, something they had just for each other.
They were halfway through The Land Before Time movies when Bruce died. Tim didn't call him when it rained a week after the funeral. Dick didn't know if he expected him to.
Dick hadn't heard from Tim, hadn't seen him in longer. The last time they saw each other, they'd argued, then Tim disappeared. Dick didn't even know he left Gotham until the fifth day he was gone. He didn't have time to be worried, though. Not when he was taking care of Damian, not when he was Batman. But he missed Tim. So much.
It was storming tonight. Too hard for Dick to go out, especially with Damian, who's doorframe Dick was leaning on right now.
"Hey, Dami," he greeted.
Damian looked up from his schoolwork with a frown. "What?"
"You wanna watch a movie? Since we're not going out tonight."
Damian scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Just because Drake ran off in his fit of insanity doesn't mean you can expect me to fill in every hole he left. Your tradition means very little to me when there are more productive things to do. Like training. Or patrol."
Dick stood up straight and crossed his arms. "You can just say no, you don't have to be mean. And I told you, the weather's no good for patrol tonight. But I'm gonna go watch a movie and you're free to join at any time."
He walked away with a huff. It didn't really matter what movie he picked once he got there, honestly, he was just going to end up tuning it out and lost in his thoughts. He didn't know where Tim was, he didn't know how much longer he could do this. He shouldn't have argued with Tim, he should've tried to help him. Maybe have Tim show him this "evidence" so he could let the kid down gently. Grief did weird things to people, and Tim was doing a lot of grieving.
His dad, Bruce, his friends. Too many people had died in his life in such a short amount of time, and he finally broke. And Dick let their last conversation devolve into an argument.
He missed Tim. The movie was drowning out the distant sound of rain, but Dick knew it was there. Pitter pattering on the roof and flooding down the downspout. Tim would've drowned it out with stupid commentary about the characters and plot. Dick couldn't help it. His mind wandered to the rain.
It's been a month since Bruce came back. Nine since they'd watched a movie together. Dick decidedly hates it. Tim is rarely at the manor. He only contacts Dick when it's nessacary. Dick doesn't even bother watching movies alone anymore. It's not the same.
It's pouring in Bludhaven when Tim calls. Dick almost lets it ring through, but Tim only calls for emergencies. He wouldn't call if it wasn't important.
"Hey, Dick," Tim greeted. "So, uh... I need some help with something."
Dick turned over in his bed. "With what?"
"Well, Bernard is working late tonight-" Bernard. Tim's boyfriend that Dick only met once. Were they living together now? What did that have to do with Dick? "-but he usually makes me dinner, and I don't wanna order takeout again. I was wondering if you could help me make something?"
Dick paused. "Is that all?"
"You don't have to if you're busy, I get it."
Dick sat up. "No, no, it's fine. I'm just a little surprised." You don't call me just to call me. Not anymore. "What do you have in your fridge?"
He hears the sound of a solid door and glasses clinking. "I, um... there's salmon. And some broccoli."
"Alright, let's make some baked salmon then. That's pretty easy."
Tim huffs. "Yeah, well, there's a reason Bernard does most of the cooking. I could burn down our kitchen making a PB&J."
"It's like two ingredients and spices, you can't mess it up."
Dick walks to his own kitchen as he talks Tim through what to do. He pulled out a TV dinner for himself. He didn't even realize how late it was, so he should probably eat dinner now. By the time Tim got the salmon in the oven, Dick was on his couch, eating his chicken pot-pie and reheated baked beans. Dick actually finds himself relaxed, a little happy.
"Um, Dick," Tim asks carefully, "do you wanna watch a movie?"
Obviously, it was the next step in their routine. Dick should've expected the question because this situation was so familiar. But the tradition was dead, it had been for a long time. Dick'c voice shook as he spoke.
"Yeah. Yeah, we should."
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dzvelinaskebiyars · 2 days ago
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WOOIN'S LOVE LANGUAGES (srs relationship edition)
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➷QUALITY TIME
Wooin isn't a guy to waste his free time on someone who doesn't matter nor mean anything in his life. So when he spends time with you doing nothing special but just listening to you yapping about your day or him being the one yapping about whatever he wants or maybe him playing video games in his phone while you're cuddled up to him and watching, it could only mean one thing.
Honestly, he likes having you around even if you two aren't doing anything. Maybe just hanging out at the park, or maybe he would come over at your house just because, you two minding your own businesses but enjoying each other's presence at the same time - these are common in your relationship with him.
But of course he likes chatting with you in those moments too or when you're painting his nails for example, he might even agree on doing skincare with you, or just eat with you while you two are watching a movie. He loves doing anything fun with you.
Quality time would be his way of comforting too tbh. Like have you seen how he left the house, went to meet up with Joker just to listen to Joker's depressive rants? Yeah, he would show up for you like that too. He's better at giving advice than offering comfort words though..
And my god, taking you on dates? He sure loves that. Whether it's the restaurants, cafes, aquariums or absolutely whatever you and he wants. I think his fav would be amusement parks especially if you two are sitting at those scary rides haha.
Wooin hates solitude so he tries to be with his friends or you as much as he can! Pls make sure this silly people traumatizer won't get lonely(*Ž▜) oh oh! He would take you to meet his friends btw (Sabbath ofc)!
➷PHYSICAL TOUCH
Now listen, he does like physical touch. Throwing his arm around your shoulders, holding your hand, maybe waist too - he ain't shy, you know.
But it's not his main love language. He doesn't truly express what he feels by touches alone. He thinks of physical touch as...intimacy, rather than a way to show you something. He likes teasing you with it though, maybe grabbing you by ur waist and observing how flustered you get.
I think he likes when you trace his tattoos with your finger. Sometimes it even makes him shiver but not in the bad way.
He likes kisses too, especially unexpected ones. I think he'd be the type of guy who would grab your chin and kiss you like that, or when you're least expecting it and he just leans it and plants a kiss. Don't blame him, he can't get over catching people off guard.
He'd throw his arm around your shoulders or hold your waist whenever he'd get jealous or competitive, especially in the bars. He's not truly expressive with physical touch but these times? Oh he's definitely giving the message.
As I said, he likes spending time with people he holds dear to his heart. So he definitely wouldn't mind physical touch, no. This guy is a tease and knows how and where he should place his hand, he knows where you love it. On your thigh? He's squishing it. Your waist? His hand is already there. Maybe your hand if you're romantic one and he would have his fingers Intertwined with yours.
But honestly, his love languages depend on his mood. If he's in the good mood then he would be more touchy, would spend time with you more productively, would buy you more things, would just do more in general yk. If he's in the bad mood, I can see him still being physical but he'd mostly keep himself from being overly touchy. He won't mind if you'll hold his hand or maybe much more physical activities.
I don't think I need to talk about what happens in bed, even though things get very physical there :;(∩Žïč`∩);: but I'm sure people have an idea what he would be like and whether he likes these type of physical activities or not (he does).
➷ACTS OF SERVICE
Again, depends on his moodâ•„ïčâ•„ but I feel like acts of service would be his love language. I mentioned that he's most likely to offer you advice instead of comfort words and looking at how he's usually the one helping out his crew members, giving them advice and basically being their mom, that could reach his relationship too. So yes, you can safely expect act of service from him.
He's definitely the type to walk you home or give you a ride. I mean, why else does he have that cool ass car, hm? Especially at night, I don't think you'd get to walk to ur house urself cuz he would give you a ride or walk you home.
When you get wasted at clubs, again he would be the one to take you home but also take care of you like giving you painkillers, holding ur hair if you throw up. He'd kinda scold you for drinking so muchïŒˆâ”Źâ”ŹïŒżâ”Źâ”ŹïŒ‰
If you're shy or anxious, he'd be the one ordering food from waitress/waiter and do all the talking in general.
Pulls you behind him when situation is getting serious, like if some guy suddenly overly aggressive and is about to fight, you're definitely staying behind him and protected.
I feel like, if you are new to cycling and all, he'd check if yoir helmet is tied correctly because, you know, it's dangerous to ride when your helmet isn't tied correctly.
Holds your drinks, bags and all if he notices you're struggling. Or just silently take shopping bags from you even if you don't struggle.
Oh and he's always the one that pays! I don't think he would believe in "50/50" or that girl has to pay. Not like you will but hey, at least he willingly pays for anything! Doesn't mean he won't complain if you buy too much or something genuinely stupid like Hyuk's furry rabbit costume.
Feel like at some point he would track ur menstruation cycle😭he has to make it easier for him if you two are living together(*ÂŽâ–œ`)
➷GIFT GIVING
On daily days, the gifts you're getting from him are lollipops. Be thankful if he gives you spare one instead of his own to share indirect kiss or whatever his moody ass tells him.
He's definitely not the type to buy you bouquets of flowers, chocolates and YSL heels every day, in fact that's rare for Wooin, heck he might not really do it. If you want them, then sure.
I feel like he'd buy you something that you could match him with. Matching color outfits? Hell yeah!! Matching bracelets? Sure if you wanna.
Does buying you pads count as gift giving or act of service?đŸ„Č
I think most of the stuff he would gift you would be customized because he seems to like customized stuff. (His bike, his glasses??)
And hell yeah all ur clothes would be expensive thanks to him. Gucci? Valentino? YSL? Chrome Hearts? Say less( ͥ°з ͥ°)
But he's not that booktok rich typa guy that spoils his wife cuz she's breathing. Wooin ain't like that. Gifts from him are definitely not daily, they can be random but mostly on important dates.
Words of affirmation? What's that? Forget that cuz that's definitely not in this list, not for Wooin Yoo.
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amorre1989 · 19 hours ago
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"you didn't think it was odd that she stopped cumming?"
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word count: 6,1k
about?: your husband's an idiot, agent Reid got mesmerized by you so he stole you from him.
who?: Spencer Reid; Y/N; Y/N's husband; Hotch
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When you got married, you knew you didn't love your husband, Jeff, Jeffrey, you knew that sleeping next to him was gonna be a challenge, you knew it as soon as you met Spencer.
Spencer and you met once when Jeff's savings got stolen and he thought it had to be told to the FBI. You told him it was excessive and that calling the police was enough, but, you're a woman, what would you know?, so you went with him to the FBI building, trying to walk to his pace, being left behind as always.
Stroking your engagement ring with your thumb while looking at it, thinking of how you got there, with a man that made you unhappy and not respecting you or your opinions at all.
You could hear his yelling, it was so embarrassing you kept watching your ring, until you heard an unknown voice, someone talking back to your fiancee, who could it be? who would dare to talk back to your fiancee? and you saw it.
Big curls and a face with a bone structure so beautiful you had to hold back a gasp. When he saw a glimpse of hair moving and a pair of eyes so big and beautiful he immediately felt like he had to take a look, he saw you. Your eyes interlocked while your husband was yelling at him for his manager, manager? God how could he be so stupid?.
As soon as those words left his mouth another man came, one with a suit and a face less soft than the other one's.
You stayed behind your husband while the three of the men kept talking, unknown eyes interlocking with yours some times while the chat kept going. Apparently, your husband realized Dr Reid was looking somewhere so he turned his face around, only to say
"oh, I forgot you were here" it felt embarrassing. Your own fiancee, forgetting your presence.
Spencer's eyebrows furred and Hotch looked at that movement.
"are you two together?" Spencer asked
"yes, why?" your husband responded, almost defensive.
"then only one of you has to be here, it's already not how the procedure is done that the victim comes to the department, so I'm gonna ask someone of you to go to the waiting room here while we talk to the other" what a voice, so right, so elegant, you could feel your eyes piercing his own.
"are you deaf? go wait somewhere else" Jeff shot at you.
"I'll guide you to the waiting room" Spencer said while putting his hand behind your back, you swallowed and started to walk.
"Is he your husband?" he asked while walking you to the elevator.
"uhm, yes, my fiancee" you said.
"what's your name?"
"Y/N"
"Y/N, your fiancee doesn't seem very nice" he said, with the face as a rock.
You smiled "no, he's not very nice" you said, thinking "of course, he doesn't know him, he doesn't know he's got no friends besides the ones that are just like him".
You got to the elevator doors and kept talking until you got to the waiting room, where you though he'd eventually leave and go back to deal with your stupid fiancee. But he didn't.
"would it be wrong if I asked for your number?" he said, lowering his voice is if in case your husband were close.
You smiled and shook your head "no, no it wouldn't".
Then it kept going, you met in nice cafes and in beautiful restaurants, having delicious meals invited by him. Since your husband wasn't home since morning til 8, you'd have all day to yourself and to Spence. You would tell yourself "he's just a new friend, married woman have male friends too..." but those tickles you felt when you'd see him, all dressed up and waiting for you with his hand inside his pockets and a smirk that had subtitles saying "you're so gonna get stolen from your husband" made you have in your aware that you were just full of shit.
Once he came to your house to drink coffee, you, sitting in front of him, so close your knees were touching, and him listening to you talk about something that wasn't even the beginning of the conversation. That would happen, you would talk about so many things you would always ask "how did we even start talking about that?", you felt like a teenager, how you felt when you first met Jeff...
You kept chatting when suddenly you felt Spencer's hand holding yours, and observing you with those hazel eyes you'd be capable of eating. Then, as an avalanche, you saw him leaning closer to you. One thing led to another when you were in your shared bed. Once a week, then twice, then three times a week...then four times.
Sometimes at your place, sometimes at his. When he would leave yours you would still smell his cologne and would start to clean the house up and down, half because of the guilt, and half because you thought your fiancee would smell it. But he's so ignorant he wouldn't even have that though in his stupid little head.
The hardest thing after being with Spence would be trying to be with stupid Jeff. He would often try to sneak his hand between your covered legs and you would groan pretending to be asleep.
Luckily, you knew Jeff was in something... weird, all that sudden money and all those working hours that weren't in his schedule were suspicious. Which leads, now accurately, at the FBI being at your door. When you opened the door and saw your curls, your chest sank, but when you realized besides Spencer there was another agent too you calmed down.
"Hello Ms Shwats" he said "is your husband home?" there it was, that cologne you'd try to scare away from your bed almost everyday.
Jeff was taken to the car when you took Spencer's arm and asked him what was going on.
"we believe your fiancee is involved in a chain of drug traffickers"
"Jeff?" you scoffed, he smiled. "I miss you, when can I come, or you?" he asked.
"I think I should follow my role as a wife now, baby" he pouted. "but we'll see" you took a look to check Jeff wasn't looking in your direction and kissed Spence, holding his cheek while he would hold your entire face. My god you were soaking already.
In the interrogation room, Spencer was killing your fiancee with questions, he has never been so inspired in getting someone inside of jail, as soon as possible. Think of all the possibilities, him in your bed, you and him sharing breakfast without having either of you to run away, he did want to wake up next to you, every day if it was possible.
Getting involved with an engaged woman has never even passed by his mind, but the first time he saw you, hidden behind "Jeff" it was like he had never seen any other woman ever.
"where were you January 12th at 3 pm, Mr Shwats?" he asked, waiting for his response.
"I was on a date with my wife. Anniversary." he answered. Wrong, he was with you, messing up his bed. Spencer smiled "oh, did you?" he relaxed in his chair "what did you do?".
Jeff felt trapped somehow "we made love all day" if you would've heard that you would've gotten so upset.
"right" Spencer said and with that, he had everything already solved.
Jeff was accused guilty and sent to jail by being a helper and complicit. Finally, your love would be finally free of having to run, to rush and to be hidden.
In the trial, you went to pretend you cared about Jeff's sentence, but you only went because your mother in law was going, and honestly, she's pretty good. When you arrived you were dressed with a nice blue dress, it felt like a half celebration half widow. You saw a beautiful blue suit, far away from you, almost matching with your dress, when you realized, it was your beautiful man. He smiled and you did too, keeping your arm intertwined with your mother in law.
Jeff walked past a door that took him who knows where, who cares? not you. You cried a little, honestly you did feel bad, he was still human besides an idiot, he was the woman you were holding hands with son, and actually it did feel a little bad. Your wedding was gonna be gorgeous. Was. With flowers that you choose, food that you knew he liked, the invitation with his name before yours, everything chosen by you because every time you'd bring the wedding to the conversation he just wouldn't help.
You took your mother in law to a cafe and then to her house, Jeff's sentence was long enough for you to grow older and even move.
You arrived at your house, empty of anyone's masculine smell, it was only you, you and yourself alone in a big house that wasn't gonna be kept by you. You made yourself a tea to leave there getting cold while you sat there thinking when your phone made a buzz.
"hey beautiful, are you in your house?" it was Spence.
"hey, yes I'm here, why?" you answered.
"can I drop by?" he asked, God yes, yes come home.
"yes of course" you sent and then you waited. The bell rang some minutes after and you went to open the door.
"hey" he smiled and kissed your cheek. You smiled as well.
"hey, come in" you had a chat about what you were gonna do about the house and about how you felt about Jeff being away, which got to the hypothesis that you did feel bad about him but you weren't unhappy about his absence.
"you could...you know, if you don't find a home soon that you like...you can come to mine" he said holding your hand, those masculines hand wrapping perfectly around yours, with his fingers stroking your knuckles in a way no one has ever done it. You smiled and raised your eyebrows.
"you think?" he smiled.
"of course" then he moved a hair from your face and placed it behind your ear "there's nothing I'd love more"
"it'll be just for a while...I won't disturb..I still have to sell the house and-"
"you don't have to leave too soon, and...I want you there" he said, smiling like trying to get inside of your head. He was.
You squinted your lips and nodded. It was all settled up. You, Spencer, an apartment you've visited tons of times and forgotten clothes and dumb stuff multiple times.
The day you left the house to move to another mens one you looked back, like trying to see if you could save at least one good memory from those four walls, but it was impossible. You drove to Spencer's, you went up the stairs and knocked.
You could hear him tripping over stuff in his way to the door and some "ouch!", you smiled to yourself for the last time. Then, as a ray of sunshine, there he was, smiling a little disheveled.
"hey!" he smiled and kissed you, not letting your lips separate for a while, holding your waist so hard you realized you weren't dreaming.
You got inside and left your stuff on the sofa.
"I uhm...I prepared some drawers for you...and space in the closet, I don't have that many clothes so you don't have to worry" he said, almost shyly, was he nervous?
You smiled and kissed him, he wrapped his arms completely around your waist and kissed you kinda brutally, suddenly you were in his bed...in your bed, shared bed, sounded so sweet, he made you promise you'd feel home and call his house your house too, it was a new beginning, you both felt it.
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zenyyyluvyuu · 6 hours ago
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My man
[gk! Jason todd x gn reader]
Synopsis: maybe a moment of him being your man
Tw/cw: idk fluff
Author note: i was craving his gotham knight version đŸ’„ sorry for the grammar and my broken English. 🙏 And kinda ooc and cringey sorry
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Library dates :
Jason is not a fan of fancy dates or dates where there are so many people who might distract you and jason. So he prefers quiet and insulated dates.
Where there are just less people and more silence. It's the Library.
You two will sit together on the chair. And peace
If you're a reader you might yap with him about the novel you read and him listening to you and also giving a comment.
He will also do the same thing as telling a theory or comment from the book he read.
He likes literature, maybe he will introduce you to literature books like, pride and prejudice. He's a nerd and you love him for that.
While reading together in silence and peace. You guys might hold hands, interlocking fingers together. Or you playing with his callous hands to keep your hands distracted.
He doesn't mind tho, cus you are his woman. So he let you do your things to him.
Rainy days :
Gotham has been raining, coating the city with water and cold air.
You were watching tv with a blanket on your lap, warming up your legs. And a cup of hot chocolate in your hands.
It was really cozy. You blow the hot chocolate, and drink it slowly. Tasting the sweet favors, you hum as the taste. It was sweet like always.
The sound of the door opening, meaning that jason has returned. You stand up from your spot. And saw him wet in the rain.
He saw you coming closer to him. "Hey"
He paused a little. "I thought the weather was good.." he scratched his neck. He was clearly wet, very very wet.
Like a wet cat maybe lol
"i told you to bring an umbrella, the weather was not good you know? And look at you now" you huff as you put your hands on your hip.
"yeah.. I'm wet"
You then smiled and let out a sigh, he was stubborn. You tug his sleeve. "Come on let's get you changed big guy" you say as you walk with him to the bathroom.
"yeah yeah"
After that, he suddenly hugs you from behind. Making you yelp.
his wet clothes cling to your dry clothes. He was really cold. You shiver as he hugs you tight.
"JASON! YOU'RE COLD!" you half-yelled at him. He just tightened his hold on you.
"I'm cold (name).." he then put his chin on your shoulder. Feeling warm from your body.
"then let's go change your clothes! You're so cold! Or maybe take a hot shower!"
You struggle to let go of his grasp. He was stronger, of course you fail.
"jason.."
"fine fine"
He gives you a smooch on your cheek before letting go of you. You playfully glare at him, as your clothes now were also wet.
He smiles at you like he did nothing wrong. "guess we have to take a hot shower together then :)"
Yeah he was planning it. you slowly smile, and grab his hand. Guiding him to the bathroom. Your step. Were slow and he was too.
You open the door and come in first, he comes in secondly as he closes the door. You are ready to turn on the faucet. Arranging the temperature of the water.
Once the water was settled. You turn around to meet him. And oh damn.
He's already naked not that too naked. He only wears his pants. He notices you staring.
Your eyes widen, surprised because how fast he takes off his clothes.
"what?"
"nuthing" you turn around from him.
*giggles*
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And finally you guys settled it in the tub together. Your back on his chest. His hand on the tub, his head tilted up, he was relaxing. With you of course.
You hug your legs, snug. You exhale at the calmness. You feel, jason as he shifts his position. Leaning in on you. You feel his warm chest on your back, and then and then
Muah
He kisses your head. Inhaling your scent, his hands hold your waist. "We can be like this forever" he says as he rest his chin on your shoulder.
You hummed. "Yeah"
In the end you guys were cuddling on the sofa with a blanket, warming you guys up, and a movie!
Motorcycle :
This is like he lets you sit on his motorcycle, and him riding it. It's really fun. Like if you wanna go somewhere else he will drive you there and pick you home.
He never wanted you to go somewhere with gotham buses. He knows Gotham and he's serious about your safety. Even tho you insisted on going with it, he will let out a sigh of Annoyed.
He's not too Calm when it comes to your safety so you have to understand. He doesn't like you being in danger yk.
If you want to learn how to drive a motorcycle, he volunteers to be your mentor, because he knows a lot about motorcycles.
When you finally drive a motorcycle with ease, he's like a proud dad yk. He'll even tell you about how to fix it when it's broken.
And i also think he does this:
Like One day, he comes home from patrol.
He has told you in calls, that he will come home early because this is an easy night, where gotham decides to go in peace mode.
He told you that you should sleep before him. So you sleep even tho you are still worried, that he might get injured.
He comes home not long after you sleep. He takes off his boots, and his helmet.
He walks to your shared bedroom, as he did he put his helmet away. And change his suit into his casual clothes.
He decided not to shower cus the night didn't give him much sweat.
When he is about to get into the bed to sleep w you. He saw your feet, his eyes squinted.
Why did you sleep with your feet's out?
He sit on the edge of the bed, He covers your feet with the blanket but you feel it, you throw your feet. Throwing away the blanket that covers your feet.
And then you go back to sleep again, like nothing happened. He stares, Hard.
He stood up from the bed, and to the drawer, took out a pair of your socks. He comes back to the bed. Sit down.
And starting to Put on your socks gently but still kinda rough. You mumble from your sleep.
As he finishes putting on your sock, he gazes at your sleeping face. He exhaled, he then sleeps beside you.
And uuhh yeah cuddling. Soft and comfy.
Hands:
Like he lets you play his hand or even his chain on his neck while you guys are cuddling on the couch. And him reading his book, unbothered.
It's a cozy day.
You play with his hand, his finger. Callouses and big. You think maybe he didn't mind if you paint his nail, probably pink lol
He gazes at you as you play, too busy with playing his hands.
And suddenly his hand grip yours. And Directing it to her lips. And a peck
He kisses your back hands.
You look at him, eyes wide. And a form of blush starts creeping on your cheeks. He smirk, and start repeating it again.
Smooch
You giggle a bit. You hold his hand tight. And take it to your lips too, kissing his knuckles.
He smile.
He really loves you.
_________________________________________________
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OKAYYY THANK YOU FOR READING MY CRINGEY FIC 🔅🔅
And I'm so sorry for the hiatus. I will finish all my wips, i hope you guys like da fic
Don't forget to reblog , like or comment! 😾😾🔅🔅
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tonfairy · 4 hours ago
Text
Diagnosis? Us !
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pairing : pediatrician! anton x internist! reader
genre : fluff, comfort, slice-of-life, established relationship
wc : 741
💌 : hii ! dropping this mini fluff now since i might not be around much next week — need to prep for my comprehensive exam 💔 (proofread so enjoy <3!)
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The number of patients today feels unusual; you realize that you haven’t left your consultation room since you entered at 8 a.m. You breathe heavily and start stretching after consulting what is probably your last patient for the day. Just as you're about to sit down, you glance at your digital clock — it's 4 p.m. 
Oh no.
In sharp contrast to the sterile hallways you just left, the sweet scent of jasmine and the soft trickling of water welcome you as you push open the garden door at exactly 4:01 p.m. Anton is sitting on one of the garden benches, two paper cups in his hands like a cocky barista, one leg crossed over the other.
“You’re late,” he says without looking up. “I was about to file a missing person report,” he adds, handing you your coffee.
“I’m one minute late. That barely counts,” you reply, rolling your eyes.
“Well, in our line of work, every minute matters— and I almost drank your coffee,” he says, turning to face you with a grin and a sparkle of mock sincerity.
“Blah, blah, blah. As if you’d dare,” you say, dropping into the seat beside him and tossing your stethoscope into his lap.
“That’s harassment!” he grumbles, lifting it like it’s offended him.
“File a report, Dr. Lee. I dare you,” you snort.
“You know,” Anton says, nudging your coffee toward you, “for someone who’s always ‘barely late,’ you really know how to make an entrance.”
You take a sip. The coffee’s lukewarm, but his presence makes up for it. “You say that like you’re not the golden retriever here.”
Anton leans in slightly. “That's because you are more important to me than good coffee. And that's a statement.”
You both laughed— softly and comfortably.  The kind of laughter that lets you forget thinking about the pagers, the paperwork, and the patients. For weeks, your shifts have been out of sync. The smell of each other left on shared coats and scrawled post-its can sometimes make it seem like your relationship is all that exists. Watching a dawn through the glass of the hospital parking lot was the closest you’ve gotten to going on a date lately. 
Without thinking, you reached for his hand, fingers lacing through his, and rested your head on his shoulder.
“I missed you, honey,” you whispered, loud enough for him to hear. 
Anton turned his head slightly, letting his cheek brush against your hair. 
“I missed you, too,”  he said with a softer voice. “You’ve been pushing yourself too much.” 
You sighed. “I know. Today was something else that I even forgot to eat for lunch.”
He gave a soft sneer. “I should’ve bought you a meal instead of coffee.” 
You smiled sweetly. “My afternoon has already been made better by you, so don’t push it— and at least your human jelly beans give you silly crayon drawings. All I get from mine is high blood pressure and a dodgy diagnosis.”
He giggled softly. “What a wonderful Internal Medicine life.”
You tapped his thigh with your other hand. “Well, at least I don’t do silly things for my patients to listen.”
“That’s below the belt!” Anton protests. 
After a little pause, he added, almost too nonchalantly, “I was asked by one of my little whirlwinds today if I had any babies, and when I told her no, she seemed really offended.”
You raised an eyebrow. “So. . are we catching baby fever now?”
An innocent smile twitched at Anton's lips as he shook his head. “I mean
 they’re kind of adorable. Chaotic, but— fun. Someday.” 
You chuckled softly. “Toni, we hardly get to see each other long enough to pour our coffee. It may take a miracle to produce a baby
 or at least schedules that are in cohesion.” 
“Then I’ll just keep bringing coffee until the rest falls into place.”
You nudged him gently. “Keep the coffee in and we’ll make it happen.” 
He squeezed your hand. “Can I push my luck a little?”
Curious, you raised your head. “Depends”
He gave you a softer look this time. “Let's take tonight.. no scrubs, no charts—only the two of us
I miss us.” 
“I miss us, too,” you smiled. 
He gently squeezed your hand again. “So
 Dinner?” 
"Only if your awful tea is the last thing left."
He laughed. “That's part of the charm!”
You stood, still holding his hand. “Then charm me, Doctor Lee.”
-end-
tysm for reading ! đŸ«‚đŸ©·
divider from @strangergraphics <3
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tarithenurse · 2 days ago
Text
Bruises - 2
Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen.
Pairing/starring: Sensei!Satoru Gojo x student!fem!reader.
Word count: 1223.
Content: Smut (fingering, somnophilia, doggy, p in v, unprotected), and some background!
A/N: Thought a bit more might be acceptable. Please reblog or comment if you liked it.
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2.
--- Gojo’s PoV ---
He’d promised to ruin her for anyone else. And he had. Gojo always keeps his promises. But something had happened that first time that he hadn’t expected.
Gojo’d become addicted to her in exactly the same way as his plan for her had been.
She’s intoxicating. The way her scent lingers on his skin after sex, the sounds she makes when he ruts into her – both the squelching around his cock and the moans and whimpers. She feels so good around him, tightly sucking him in as the juices drips down to his balls. Oh and gods, her taste! Sweet and tangy at the same time. Sex has never been this good before and Gojo knows it never will be with anyone else again.
But that’s not all.
For fucks’ sake, he’s lying with her in his arms, listening to her breathe as she sleeps and he likes it! Adores the way her eyelashes flutter as she dreams – hopefully about him.
His fingertips wander from her soft tummy to her hips where bruises have formed and he wonders if there were any the last (or first) time too. He likes them there.
His hand drifts the other way, gently moving under her arm until he can hold her breast and feel her heartbeat through it. Even in her sleep, the nipple reacts by puckering and Gojo can’t help himself from rolling it between his fingers. A shiver runs through her and she nuzzles closer to him, ass pushing against his crotch and the reaction is predictable: a low pulse that turns into a throbbing as his cocks swells, pushing half-hard against her ass-cheek.
How had it even come to this?
Most of the time, Gojo let his students spar with each other, leaving him free to observe and give tips (heckle). He liked watching her move and that might have been the first warning but he admired how sure she was of her body. It’s abilities and limitations. She never lost a fight and while it might be good that she was so strong, Gojo needed to know how she handled defeat – if it broke her or if she learned from it.
One day, he kept her back after class, sending the others away while squaring up before her himself. When they clashed it was almost as if her skin seared him – he might be stronger and better than her, destined to win this match, but his own body was trying to betray him and by the time he’d gotten her wrestled underneath him on the mat and she tapped out, he had memorized the feeling of her curves against his hard lines. That was the second warning.
The third warning was the voice in his head screaming at him to turn back when he marched to her dorm that night. But as the idiot Gojo was, he ignored it and knocked on the door.
“Come to gloat?” she’d sneered.
“Come to teach you a lesson.”
He’d marched in, only then realizing that the reason she stood behind the door, peeking around it, was because she was only dressed in a towel after the shower. She crossed her arms, unintentionally pressing her breasts to swell over the edge of the towel but she didn’t stop him from closing the door.
“You suck it up when you lose,” he growled, gaze roaming her body. “And against me...you’ll always lose. I own your ass.”
She had stepped closer then, hands in her sides and uncaring that her chest was brushing his, already opening her mouth to fight back with some snarky comment.
“I’ll ruin you for anyone else,” Gojo said, no longer willing to play nice.
“You can try.”
His lips had been on hers the next second, large hand pulling her hair to angle her face up to meet him. Something inside him snapped when she kissed back, tongue sliding along his so he could taste the mint of toothpaste.
The memory is enough to get his cock fully erect and it’s so easy to gently lift her leg so he can slide it in along her slit, snuggled in the warmth between her thighs.
Gojo’s hands are so large on her when they slide along her curves before changing direction towards her mound. He’s holding his breath as he slips a single finger down at the tip of the crevasse to press against the hooded clit.
“Nghhh,” she whimpers in her sleep. But she doesn’t wake.
Spurred on, Gojo starts to circle the bud slowly, matching the rhythm with his and hers breath. She still smells of their sex earlier and faintly of sweat too...he hadn’t gone easy on her but the sight of the dew on her skin had been intoxicating.
Now he presses a soft kiss to the pulse point of her throat, feeling it flutter under his lips and he has to suppress the urge to bite down. To mark her. Later.
Sliding the finger further, he delves between her folds and finds that slickness is gathering. He has to taste it and he barely manages to stifle the groan as he licks it off the finger. His cock throbs, twitching in the V of her thighs.
She doesn’t wake as he works her, finger moving slowly but steadily around and on her tender clit only to sometimes press further to gather her juices to ensure the smooth glide that doesn’t disturb her sleep. Still, she’s breathing harder, hands clenching the sheets, brows wrinkled as she whimpers and moans and it’s all too tempting not to roll his hips just a little bit.
Even as his cock begins to get wet with her slick and his precum, soon it’s not quite enough.
Moving carefully, he lifts her leg again, cool air hitting them both. But it grants him access to slowly, ever so slowly, press into her cunt. Wet and warm. Fluttering already. It’s not the perfect angle but it’s miles better and as he fills her, they both sigh. As if to accommodate him, she pushes back against him with her back arching sinfully. Walls twitching.
It takes all the determination Gojo has to not just fuck into her hard and deep but he has a plan and he’s not one to give up on the sweet idea. So he keeps fingering her, sometimes rolling his hips slowly until her body seizes and she cries out, waking herself.
“Wh-” she looks confused.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he promises against her shoulder.
Finally able to move freely, Gojo rolls her over and pulls her ass up by the hips, never once unsheathing.
“Satoru!” she mewls.
Her walls are still twitching, her body sensitive but pliable as he starts to rut, chasing his own high and prolonging hers
“Feel so good,” he groans, “gonna bust soon.”
She just babbles something, too far gone to find the words and Gojo loves it. Loves the hold he has over her and how wrecked she sounds.
“Fuck,” is all he has time to say before he has to pull out, already cumming. It’s blinding but he blinks through it, watching the white ropes splatter against her hole and petals. Next time, he promises wordlessly as he steadies himself with a hand on her ass, next time it’ll stay in there.
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peatbogbody · 12 hours ago
Text
MINGI
MINGIMINGIMINGI
oops this took me a lifetime to finish
Mingi was actually the last ATEEZ member whose face I was able to consistently put to the name, I have to admit it was right after I bought my tickets for their concert last year that I was like "...I should probably know who all of these people are 😳". TBF since I started listening to them in late 2022, up to that point, I'd been mostly just listening to their music and watching a few of their MV's and familiarizing myself with The Lore a bit, and hadn't really dove into their performance vids or side content much at all. From their music alone I'd already placed them in my top 3 groups, but I finally fell deep into the rabbithole of everything else in the couple weeks after the concert when I was laid up with COVID that I'd gotten at the concert (😳) bingeing instagram reels. (tbh I am ECSTATIC that they're already having another tour bc although I LOVED the last concert, as soon as I realized how much I didn't know about them, I was immediately like HI I NEED A DO-OVER NOW)
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this bit specifically awakened many things within me.
However, it's been a long time coming but especially now since I started this series and also have been reading work by other ATEEZ meta writers, I feel secure in declaring that Mingi has ascended beyond bias-wrecker status to fully-fledged double-bias. (I maintain that all other members are still S-tier wreckers though. Having a bias in ateez is HARD. i keep thinking i'm set but then every week a different member comes waltzing by wiggling their fingers at me and its SO RUDE. anyways).
this has to come with a lot of defensive caveats of NOT LIKE THATTT bc of certain...stereotypes surrounding mingi ults. i mean it's not entirely NOT that...i do have eyes...but it's also so much MORE than that. i swear.
It's so hard to put things in words (extra LOL at this like 6 weeks later) but here goes.
oh i can use readmores lol
Okay so. The Duality. It can be more than a little cheesy when kpop fans crow all day about ~THE DUALITYYY~ like yeah. first off everyone has duality. you're not the same person in the crowd at the show as you are at your 9-5 on a monday. imagine if idols who had intense concepts just like. walked around in character for those roles 24/7 like what in the daniel day-lewis.
but sometimes the discrepancy between the different "modes" of a performer can still be impressive to see and fun to compare. and wow there sure is a discrepancy here.
mingi's on-stage/performance, FIX ON energy has been heavily discussed. he's got a way of working a crowd that's awe-inspiring, a way that's known to incite "bringing a pen to the concert just in case there's an NDA that needs to be signed" type moods. the way he can get an entire stadium of people BARKING LIKE DOGS, literally, with just a flick of his fingers? enviable. (and potentially terrifying to the uninitiated.) OKAY i was going to say this but i just went to a day6 concert and it turns out that fans will just Do This without any prompting. i stand by mingi still having a particular Way of doing it though and overall a power over crowds that's kinda scary.
poor day6 were so confused it was hilarious
but actually, to my eyes, it's like Fix On is SO over-the-top it's bordering on camp? (i stole this observation from someone (although i'd kind of independently registered it) but forgot who it was. if you wrote about this speak up!). but yeah it's like. almost veering into drag king performance. male impersonation type shit. it's a full on character. this may be one of the secrets behind the mysterious mingi/seonghwa synergy, in the way they get so deeply immersed in character onstage. i'd probably be a little or maybe a lot scared to run into either of them immediately post-performance (but also đŸ„”).
and then we get moments when this persona will be "broken" by something suddenly and mingi just bursts into that big cheesy smile and it's SO CUTE.
about that cuteness.
ymmv ofc but seeing this guy...
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stalking around pelvis-first (I can't find it but that clip of the members making fun of the way he does the driving dance sums it up) on stage, then turn around and INSIST that he's actually Princess Minki, baby chick, aegyo world champion, just intensifies the cuteness. it's the way he's so emphatic that he's CUTE that makes it inherently true, but not directly as a result of the aegyo itself, rather it comes from the intention. if fixed-off mingi really wants to make us believe this, l'm making the decisive choice to take the bait and take him at his word. clown makeup ON, peace and love on planet earth.
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who the FUCK are you to deny this man his god-given right to be cute as fuck? get outta town.
to name one example of a behavior that draws me to him in a very leftatlondon "haha, i do that...đŸ„Č" way: the way he'll do what I think of as kinda, vocal stimming? with song lyrics (like this whole video oh my god). idk if that's what it is but like, I ALSO sing a lot as self-regulation like when I'm anxious, bored, waiting or a combination of those things.and settings where i see him doing this fit the bill of moments when I would probably be doing the exact same thing. for instance, if i was doing a live in front of thousands of viewers and had run out of boyfriend-RP material and vague platitudes to give but still had time to fill. i would probably also resort to random asmr/vocal percussion. anyways i just Know he paces around whispering various words and phrases to himself.
sidenote, i have to say from experience that the kind of earworms you get when you've been practicing and performing pieces for a concert/etc especially when you do more than one show, are unlike any other kind. they are insidious. i cannot IMAGINE doing this for dozens of shows on a tour or a comeback. i'd lose my mind. idk how they don't end up utterly sick of title tracks by the end of the comeback period. so anyways we do see other members randomly singing a lot, but I haven't really heard anyone playing with the words in the way Mingi does.
i'm not gonna directly comment on the neurodivergency thing but will just say, i See Behaviors 👀. i won't outright say there's Nothing going on.
others have commented on mingi's apparent lack of interest/ability to self-censor his speech, actions or affect even in very public settings. excuse the possible projection, but i recognize this behavior not as coming someone who doesn't know or care about social norms, but due to whatever reason is unable to perform Normal Behavior consistently enough that they've developed a strategy of pointedly abandoning the public pretense of even attempting to do so. if you fuck up at being a person it's because you weren't even trying and you don't even really care :) (but actually you DO care, a lot and you WERE trying).
leaning much more extraverted than myself, mingi seems to do this more automatically and externally than i do.
this type of attitude can have both healthy and unhealthy applications but in mingi's case it seems to be working out pretty well. i'd be interested in seeing a comparison of his persona over time, especially pre- and post-mental health break.
but yeah basically us socially weird and anxious babes yearn for the days of lol random xd tacos. mingi baby u would have thrived in 2007.
and he just comes across as super sweet and sincere and the members clearly adore him. and mingi laugh attacks (a la this vid at around the 14:40 mark heyy look foreshadowing for jonghoposting) are truly soul-cleansing, skin-clearing, crop-watering etc.
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i adore this like default awkward closed-mouth smile/grimace he does it's another very "i do that...." thing
anyways also mingi's super captivating to watch onstage and a fucking fire rapper and musician. not just onstage. i LOVE his singing voice too. but i can't spend a second more on this post and i have a whole musical analysis series planned where i'll definitely touch on this stuff more.
just an example of the power of Mingi. this is a challenge for sb19's own fucking account but it's actually impossible to keep your eyes on anyone but mingi
okok shhh don't cry here's a close up version
anyways i've been sitting on this post for far too long and needed to remind myself that these were never supposed to be comprehensive character dissections, just off-the-cuff impressions based on vibes and THATS MY OPINION. so i'm ending it here bye i will be writing about our dear wooyoung next.
again im not gonna discuss ship stuff on these posts its TOO MUCH
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catzz089 · 2 days ago
Note
Snippet? đŸ„ș
FIne fine fine
He was, however, very proud of himself when he overheard the very beginnings of what turned out to be a rather important conversation.
And look, he would never consider himself an eavesdropper, just some situations just called for it. He simply needed to.
There were two men, sat opposite each other, at first Max had thought they were on a date, especially with how much their legs were touching, but Max took a fair amount of pride in being gay, and he refused to associate with people like that. So obviously they couldn’t be gay.
One man had a small notebook to the side of him, filled with writing. When Max took a peek it was all irrelevant fantasy bullshit, and entirely unrelated to their food, so it made absolutely no sense when they lowered their voices and started to say,
“We’re going to give them so many bad reviews,”  He winked too, albeit terribly.
“Oh yes,” The other one grinned, “It’ll be so bad, their restaurant will crumble.”
They both laughed darkly at that.
“It’s almost a shame, the food is actually really nice, but it’ll be so much nicer when their reputation collapses so badly they won’t be able to stand anymore.”
A scarred hand muffled his laughter. Max should probably be a good samaritan and tell him that laughing at his own jokes which weren’t even jokes was probably the worst thing he could do.
He also felt the distinct need to flip their table over and watch everything clatter over them. How dare they falsify reviews to make Charles’ restaurant look bad, especially after openly admitting they were dumb fucking liars.
Charles was just so nice he’d  probably never hurt a fly before and these people wanted to ruin that. Ruin him.
Max just couldn’t let that fly.
“Is everything ready for Wednesday?”
“Of course it is, they won’t know what hit them.”
Max had four days to get this all sorted out.
Easy.
---
The first thing he did was pull Carlos aside.
He waited for it to quieten just a little before he grabbed him by the collar and marched him off to the little cupboard.
“Hello to you too,” Carlos sighed, “What’s this for?”
“Okay, you need to listen carefully, I have a plan but we cannot tell Charles.” He stressed.
Carlos raised an eyebrow, “Um, okay? What the fuck is this? What plan and why can’t we tell Charles?”
“Okay, basically, I overheard these two food reviewers, sat on table nine and-”
“Table nine?” Carlos interrupted.
Max sent him a lighthearted glare, “Yes, that’s what I just said, keep up.”
“And you’re sure they were food reviewers?” Carlos asked, with his eyes all big and wide in the way that always freaked Max out just a little bit.
“Yeah, of course, they had little notebooks out and they were taking about giving our restaurant so many bad reviews, they said on Wednesday they’d flood the site with so many that we wouldn’t know what hit us and we’d crumble.”
“Oh!” Carlos replied, his voice jumping a couple of octaves- Max honestly felt bad, Carlos had been working here for years, no wonder he’d be so upset at the thought of his workplace collapsing and losing his job. 
“Wednesday, you say? That’s when they plan to hit us. Okay. So um
 Maybe you should like- you know- not come in then? So uhh. So you don’t feel the effects?” Carlos reasoned.
Max looked at him like he was stupid, because clearly he was, “No, obviously not! I have a plan, Carlos. We cannot tell Charles. His business means so much to him, he started it from the ground! And he’s already going through a lot; His car is ruined, he was just super ill and he’s always staying late and overworking himself- even more so recently! So we need to do this together.”
“Okay, but I really don’t think he was that bothered by the whole car thing, he was like, way more concerned about you. He came in every fucking day and spoke about how much he wanted you to get better and be okay. I’ve literally seen him drive a new car for each day of the week. It doesn’t matter to him.” Carlos said, entirely off topic.
“That’s what they all say, Carlos. Anyway, we’ll be the only floor staff that night, so basically, we just can’t let them in. If they want to leave reviews they need to go through the whole verification system to check they’ve actually eaten here, and if they plan on doing that on Wednesday, we just need to man the door and tell them that all the tables are either taken or reserved. Boom. Issue gone.”
Carlos smiled tightly, “Wow, that’s great. Yeah. We’ll do that. Anyway, I think we should go back out now.”
Max scoffed internally, he’d done all this work to get everything sorted out and save Carlos’ job and he gets a half assed thank you. Some people.
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kathlare · 3 days ago
Text
just in case
Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman
Summary: With Max Fewtrell as his unfiltered wingman and reality check, Lando spirals between hope and hesitation, capturing a snapshot of vulnerability, friendship, and quiet longing.
Wordcount: 2.7 k
Warnings: none
full masterlist // request over here!
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June 6th, 2020 - London, United kingdom
Lando was pacing around his room, occasionally throwing random shirts and board shorts into the open suitcase on his bed. He’d already repacked it three times. Nothing felt right. It was like he was dressing for a job interview, but the interview was with someone who didn’t even know she was conducting one. His hoodie was half on, half off, and his hair was a disaster.
He muttered to himself, holding up a plain white tee and a light blue one. —White or blue, white or blue
 she said she liked the blue one on stream once, right?— he mumbled, frowning.
—You’ve been packing for three fucking hours,— came Max Fewtrell’s voice from the doorway, making Lando nearly drop the shirt. Max was already lying across Lando’s bed like he owned the place, arms crossed behind his head.
Lando gave him a look. —I haven’t. Okay maybe I have. Shut up.—
—You’re going to Hawaii, not Mars. Chill the fuck out.— Max grinned, watching him with lazy amusement.
Lando zipped the suitcase halfway, then unzipped it again.
—It's not that simple,— Lando said, tossing the blue shirt onto the bed and running a hand through his hair. —It’s
 different. It’s Amelie.—
Max snorted. —Yeah. That’s exactly why you’re packing like you're about to meet the Queen. Or your future in-laws.—
Lando shot him a glare, but Max just wiggled his eyebrows.
—You’re being annoying,— Lando muttered, turning back to his wardrobe. He pulled out another hoodie and held it up, squinting at it like it might personally offend Amelie.
—And you’re being delusional,— Max replied, sitting up now, one eyebrow raised. —Mate, I’m just saying, you’re forgetting something.—
Lando frowned. —What? No, I have everything. Shirts, swim trunks, toothpaste
 chargers
 face masks
— He trailed off, mentally checking his list.
Max leaned back on his hands. —Condoms.—
Lando froze.
Then turned around slowly. —What the fuck, Max? Why the hell would I need condoms?—
Max blinked innocently. —Why wouldn't you?—
Lando flushed immediately. —Because she doesn’t see me like that. She’s Amelie. We’re just
 friends.—
Max raised both eyebrows. —Right. Just friends. Friends who flirt like horny teenagers on Twitch in front of thousands of people.—
Lando turned back to his suitcase, slamming it shut aggressively. —It’s not like that.—
—Isn’t it? You’ve had a crush on her since before she knew you existed. You’re flying across the world with Charles, in the middle of a pandemic, to see her. And let’s not forget you bought three different swim trunks “just in case the blue one makes my shoulders look weird.” I had to listen to that conversation, Lando.—
Lando groaned, flopping onto the bed next to Max. —She’s not over what happened with Cam. I’m not going to
 push anything. It’s not like that with us. We’re friends. I don’t want to ruin it.—
Max turned his head. —Yeah, and maybe it’ll stay like that. But maybe it won’t. What if you get there, and she looks at you like you’re not just the guy on Discord anymore? What if you’re not prepared? Do you really wanna be caught with your pants down, literally, and no condoms because you were too stubborn to hope?—
Lando looked up at the ceiling.
Max continued. —I’m not saying you’re gonna sleep with her. I’m saying be prepared. Like a Boy Scout. But, you know
 with protection.—
Lando let out a long breath. —You’re such a dickhead.—
Max smirked. —Yeah, but I’m a responsible dickhead. Now come on, get your shoes. We’re going to the shop.—
Lando groaned, covering his face with both hands. —I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.—
—Oh, come on. It’s not a big deal,— Max said, already hopping off the bed. —We’re two adult men buying a common, responsible product. For, uh, hypothetical scenarios. Totally normal.—
—You're enjoying this way too much,— Lando muttered as he sat up and shoved his feet into his sneakers.
—You kidding? I’m living for this. Watching you spiral over your not-girlfriend like it’s a Netflix rom-com is better than anything on TV right now.—
—She’s not my... god, shut up.—
Max held up his hands, feigning innocence. —Just saying. "Not your girlfriend" wouldn’t make you change outfits five times before packing a toothbrush.—
Lando threw a hoodie at him.
They climbed into Lando’s car, face masks on, windows down. London’s summer evening breeze cut through the awkward silence for a moment before Max clicked the AUX cord in and started blasting some Travis Scott, bobbing his head like he wasn’t about to walk into a shop to buy condoms with his best mate who was clearly freaking out.
—So, like
 what kind do you even get?— Lando asked after a moment, eyes on the road but voice nervous.
Max blinked at him. —What do you mean?—
—Like, there’s different
 sizes. Types. Ribbed. Thin. What the fuck is “ultra-sensitive”? Sounds like me after a race weekend.—
Max snorted. —You’ve really never bought any?—
Lando gave him a look. —No, Max. I haven’t. Believe it or not, I’m not out here pulling girls every weekend.—
Max tilted his head thoughtfully. —Honestly, kinda forgot you were still a virgin.—
—Thanks for the reminder,— Lando said dryly.
—No shame in that, bro. Just means when it happens, it’s gonna be meaningful. Or at least, you’ll remember every fucking detail and overthink the entire thing for the next decade.—
Lando groaned. —Fantastic.—
They parked at the nearest Tesco, masks on, hoods up, sunglasses because they were dramatic and paranoid and this was, apparently, a stealth mission.
Inside, the two of them loitered near the toiletries aisle for a good two minutes pretending to debate toothpaste before Max finally nudged Lando with his elbow and nodded toward the “Family Planning” section.
—This is so dumb,— Lando muttered.
—You are literally making it weird. Just walk over, grab a box, pay, leave. Boom. No one cares.—
—Easy for you to say, you’ve actually had sex. I’m about to buy these for a girl who doesn’t even see me that way.—
Max smirked. —Yet.—
They shuffled over like two awkward teens in a bad teen movie. Lando scanned the shelves like he was trying to decipher ancient code. He picked up one box, read the back, immediately put it back down.
—"Intense Ribbed: For Maximum Pleasure." Jesus Christ.—
—That one sounds optimistic,— Max muttered, snorting. —Here, what about this? Basic. Thin. Trustworthy. Like you.—
—Wow. Thanks.—
Max shrugged. —Just saying. Don’t start your first time with something that says "Magnum." You’ll freak yourself out.—
Lando’s ears turned red. He settled on a discreet-looking box, one that didn’t scream I'm planning sex, and shoved it under his hoodie like he was smuggling gold.
—You look so suspicious,— Max laughed as they headed to the self-checkout. —You’re literally going to get flagged by security.—
—I hate you.—
Max tapped the screen for him. —Scan it, pay, and let’s get out of here before someone recognizes you as the guy buying condoms in Crocs.—
—I am not wearing Crocs.—
—Emotionally, you are.—
Back in the car, Lando slumped against the seat, box hidden deep in his backpack now like it might explode if someone looked at it too long.
—This is stupid. It’s not even gonna happen. She doesn’t see me that way. I’ll be lucky if she hugs me at the airport.—
Max clicked his seatbelt. —Or she’ll see you, hug you, and then you’ll spend a week in paradise swimming, laughing, and accidentally falling in love.—
Lando gave him a look. —You should write greeting cards.—
—You should stop pretending you don’t already love her.—
That shut Lando up.
He stared out the window for a long moment.
—She’s still hurting. With Cam. And everything. I don’t wanna mess that up.—
Max softened a little. —Then don’t. Just be there. Be you. And if something happens
 you’ll be ready.—
They pulled back into the driveway, streetlights casting shadows over the brick.
Lando grabbed his bag from the back seat, condoms still tucked inside like a stupid, hopeful secret.
He wasn’t expecting anything.
But he was starting to wonder—what if.
What if she did look at him differently?
What if all the flirting, all the late-night calls, all the Twitch streams meant something?
What if Amelie, even just a little, felt the same?
He wasn’t sure.
But for once
 he was ready to find out.
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norrissector: lando spotted in bristol today 🏡👀 guessing it’s a fam visit??
View all 39,011 comments
lanmeliesunrise: bro why do i feel like he’s showing his mum the girl → wifeydayman: @lanmeliesunrise like “this is Amelie. yes, that Amelie” 😭
pitlaneprophet: he’s in bristol? the home cooked meal he’s about to get >>> → helmetgirl69: @pitlaneprophet bro’s getting fed emotionally AND nutritionally
carbongirlies: he’s not in bristol. he’s in denial about being in love with her → danielslefthand: @carbongirlies omg be serious he wrote her name in his heart w a sparkler
mclarenmami: he’s back in bristol? oh he def getting told off by his mum for something 😭
lanmelie.irl: imagine being a neighbor and seeing lando norris doing the bins. i’d faint. → danielricfan: @lanmelie.irl i’d throw myself in the bin just to say hi tbh
formulafreakz: he’s spending time with his family bc he misses someone else's 😭
drsdelulu: me pacing my room knowing she’s not there but hoping she sent a lil voice memo anyway → lanmelsupremacy: @drsdelulu they’re texting 24/7 be serious
quadgirls: do you think his mom has a framed photo of ames on the fridge yet → paddockpookie: @quadgirls if not she should bc the future is near 😭🧡
sainzysimp: this man is glowing i repeat GLOWING → amelieflwr: @sainzysimp love will do that to you babes đŸ«¶đŸ«¶
delulu.drs: lando visiting his family while we sit here waiting for the lanmelie soft launch like
ameliesbrowngirlies: bristol is healing him but hawaii is calling 😭 → f1shipwars: @ameliesbrowngirlies call me when his suitcase has her skincare in it again
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Lando was deep into a round of Call of Duty, headset on, thumbs flying over his controller like his life depended on it. His brows were furrowed in full gamer concentration, body sprawled across the floor of his childhood bedroom in boxers and a hoodie, limbs like tangled spaghetti. He'd gone full goblin mode since arriving home a couple days ago—no alarms, no PR meetings, no interviews. Just snacks, sweatpants, and endless games until his Hawaii trip with Charles.
Until, of course, reality came knocking.
—Yo, can I borrow your charger? Mine’s fucked,— Oliver’s voice came from the hallway.
Lando didn’t even look up. —Yeah, it’s in my backpack, top pocket. By the door.—
He was just about to finish off the last player when he heard it.
—Uh
 mate?—
Something in Oliver’s tone made Lando pause. Not annoyed. Not casual.
Panicked.
Lando’s stomach dropped.
—No. No, no, no, fuck...—
He threw the controller across the carpet and sprinted to the door like he was rushing Turn 1 at Monza, practically slipping on the floor as he yanked it shut.
Too late.
—WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!— Oliver’s voice rang through the door, muffled but horrified.
Lando slapped his forehead. —Fuck’s sake, Ollie, seriously?—
—Why is there a box of condoms in your bag?— Oliver said, voice rising.
—Because I’m twenty and occasionally capable of responsible adult decisions?—
—No. Nope. You don’t get to act chill about this. I just opened your bag looking for a charger and now I need therapy—
Lando opened the door just a crack, face pink, hair a disaster. —It’s not like that. I wasn’t— he sighed, rubbing his face. —It was just a stupid thing. I bought them because Max told me to. I’m not even using them, alright? It was a hypothetical purchase.—
Oliver held up the box like it had personally offended him. —“Ultra Thin, Extra Sensitive”
 bro.—
Oliver was pacing now, box in hand like it was radioactive. —This says twenty-four pack, Lando. What kind of trip do you think you’re going on?—
Lando snatched it from him. —I wasn’t thinking! Max was being Max, alright? We went to Tesco, and he peer-pressured me. Said I’d regret it if I wasn’t prepared.—
Oliver blinked. —Prepared? For what? A bloody orgy in Maui?!—
Lando groaned so loud it might’ve registered on a seismograph. He stomped across the room, grabbed the controller he’d yeeted across the carpet, and set it down with forced calm. Then turned back to his older brother, who was still staring at him like he’d just found crack in his Catholic school kid’s lunchbox.
—It’s not like that, Ollie. It’s not happening. It was just
 a stupid backup plan, alright?—
—Backup for what, exactly?— Oliver shot back. He held the box at arm’s length, like it might bite. —Is this for her?—
Lando froze.
And there it was.
The shift.
Oliver’s voice lowered. —Amelie. Right?—
Lando didn’t answer. His face said enough.
Oliver let out a slow, dramatic exhale and dropped onto Lando’s bed like he needed a moment to recover. —Holy shit. I knew it. You’re actually going for it.—
—I’m not,— Lando muttered, yanking the condoms out of Oliver’s hand and marching straight to the tiny bin near his desk. He dropped them in with all the ceremony of a funeral. —There. Happy? They’re gone. No sex. Just sand, surfing, and me pretending I don’t have feelings.—
Oliver stared at the bin. Then at Lando.
—You’re spiraling.—
—I'm fine,— Lando insisted.
—You’re playing Call of Duty in your underwear and just threw away perfectly good condoms because your brother caught you simping. That's not fine.—
Lando ran both hands through his curls, eyes squeezing shut. —I didn’t want anyone to find them. Max said it was just in case. Said I'd regret it if I wasn’t ready. But I’m not even planning anything! It’s Amelie. She’s still dealing with shit, I don’t want to be that guy.—
Oliver leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His tone softened. —You’ve had a crush on her since, what, 2016? Since before you could legally drink. I watched you watch her sing that dumb acoustic version of “Don’t Delete The Kisses” on YouTube like you were getting knighted.—
Lando muttered, —It was a good cover.—
—Mate, you said she was “the closest thing to magic that’s ever existed.” You were seventeen. I thought you were joking. But you meant it. I remember.—
Lando dropped onto the floor again, head thunking back against the edge of his bed. His voice came out quiet. —I still do.—
Oliver didn’t say anything for a moment. Just watched his little brother like he was trying to figure out how to protect him from feelings the size of hurricanes.
—So what’s the plan, then? You fly to Maui with your suitcase full of Twitch-boy outfits, look at her from across the beach like a Victorian poet, and then fly home with a sunburn and more unresolved tension?—
Lando gave him a withering look. —Honestly, yeah. That was basically the itinerary.—
Oliver laughed, shaking his head. —Jesus Christ, you're doomed.—
Lando sighed. —I’m not trying to ruin what we have. She still brings up Cam sometimes. I can tell it still hurts. She needs safety. Not some lovesick idiot hoping for a romantic movie moment.—
—You are a lovesick idiot,— Oliver said fondly. —But you’re also her friend. That counts for something. Maybe everything.—
They sat in silence for a few beats, the muffled sound of Lando’s game still looping on pause.
Then Oliver tilted his head. —So, should I fish those condoms out of the bin or
—
—No. Absolutely not. I’m never living this down.—
Oliver smirked. —You’re really not. I’m texting Mum. “Your little boy is sexually maturing.”—
—You’re a menace,— Lando groaned, hurling a pillow at him.
Oliver stood, dodging it with ease. —Better hope Charles doesn’t find out about this. He’ll have you doing tactical condom drills on the plane to Hawaii.—
Lando buried his face in the blanket and screamed.
Oliver paused at the door, turning back with a smirk. —Just promise me one thing, yeah? If it does happen
 you tell me before Max. I deserve that much.—
Lando lifted his head, cheeks flushed but a hint of a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. —Yeah, alright. Deal.—
Oliver nodded, satisfied. —Good. Now get dressed, you absolute goblin. We're getting dinner. And maybe deodorant. Jesus.—
The door shut behind him, and Lando stayed on the floor a moment longer, staring at the ceiling.
The condoms were still in the bin.
And Amelie was still on his mind.
Hard not to wonder what Hawaii would bring. Maybe nothing.
Or maybe
 everything.
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