#and they absolutely were not hiding their love

[inkandapex]

stream madness pt. 2

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando Norris embraced his now-public relationship as a chance to openly and unapologetically adore his girlfriend. Fans saw it as a win—though it came at the cost of Max F constantly getting roped into their antics.

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, suggestive dialogue

Protect Max

Fans were absolutely loving how Y/N had become a bigger part of Max’s streams. They got to see a side of her they’d never caught on social media and beyond the glimpses from the paddock with Lando.

It was just another day of chatting and gaming for the two during a break between races, the pair sat in an ever familiar room in Lando's place in Monaco, but with him absent as Max had mentioned he went out for training.

"We just agreed on not using grenades you cheat! Lando's rubbing off on you way too much. I don't like it" Max exclaims as his character on Counterstrike once again, gets killed by Y/N less than a minute into the round.

"Oh go cry about it Max, just admit I'm better than you" Y/N smirks as she grabs her water bottle to take a sip

"You cheated! I got absolutely knocked by that"

"Fine! You big baby, no grenades this time, promise" Y/N groans as they start another round

"they're so sibling coded" "not bob getting dethroned from being Max's gaming partner" "she's so gonna beat Max again this round"

“Okay, chat, no need to rub salt in the wound—by the way, I was the one who taught you how to play, you should be grateful—shit!”

Max was mid-sentence when Y/N sniped him, knocking him out of the game and securing yet another win—this time, fair and square.

“The student becomes the master,” she smirked, leaning back in her chair, clearly enjoying the moment.

"What's going on here?" the mic picks up Lando's voice before he even enters the frame.

"I'm absolutely dominating on counterstrike—did you just get back?" A playful smile spreads across Y/N's face as Lando walks into the room, standing behind her chair and gently massaging her shoulders.

"I've already showered and everything. Been here the past 30 minutes, you two were too busy bickering—I could hear you all the way down the hall," Lando chuckles, looking down at her with a cheeky grin.

He leans in, but Y/N quickly shifts away, avoiding the kiss.

"You're avoiding my kisses now?" Lando teases, his mouth hanging open in mock surprise.

"The stream, Lan..." Y/N mutters, a little pout on her lips, making Lando laugh softly.

"Alright baby, for our eyes only, yeah?" Lando smirks, leaning back down while reaching for the camera, his hand covering it just in time to hide their kiss.

"Hello?! My eyes! My eyes! What about Max’s eyes?!" Max's shout makes the two burst into laughter as Lando pulls his hand away, revealing Max’s face, twisted in utter disgust.

"lol poor max" "bet he misses P a lil extra today" "i think im going to cardiac arrest they're so cute"

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Snitches get stiches

The night before testing in Bahrain, Lando hopped onto Max’s stream for a few rounds, confident as ever. After absolutely schooling Max, he decided it was time to call it a night, shutting down his setup and stepping away.

What he didn’t step away from, however, was the chat.

Curled up in bed, phone in hand, Lando lurked—dropping smug messages every few minutes. No matter how much Max tried to ignore him, chat was loving it, egging Lando on as he tormented his friend from the shadows.

" 'Just take the L—' Mate, I did take the L. You’re the one still lurking in chat," Max laughed, shaking his head as yet another message from Lando popped up. "You have testing tomorrow, by the way."

Then, a new message appeared.

"Ed said he let you win this morning."

Max smirked, grabbing his phone. Without a word, he held up a finger to the camera and pressed dial. The stream went quiet as he waited. After a few rings, a familiar voice came through the speaker.

"Hey, Y/N, you alright? Sorry if I woke you. You’re in Bahrain with Lando, yeah?" Max finally said, his grin growing wider at the thought of absolutely snitching on his best friend.

"Hey, Maxie. No you're good, just in the other room catching up on work. Lando went to bed about an hour ago. Everything okay? Do I need to wake him up?" Y/N sounded concerned.

"Yeah, 'bout that... he’s wide awake, actually—just finished streaming golf with me. Wouldn’t leave my chat."

The pause on the other end was almost too satisfying. Max leaned back, waiting patiently, his smirk never fading. The sound of rustling and soft footsteps had him turning up the volume, bringing his phone closer to the mic. He even covered his mouth, stifling his laughter, determined to catch this golden moment in all its glory.

"bro is cooked" "oh no she's mad" "not max snitching on lando AGAIN"

"You’ve got testing tomorrow, Lan." "Fucking snitch, Max! Grow up!" Lando’s voice barely made it through, muffled. "You said you were going to bed an hour ago," Y/N said, clearly not amused. "Baby, I am in bed," Lando mumbled, his tone defensive. "You were just playing with Max—" "—For one round, my love. I’m in bed now, aren’t I?" "Don’t play me, Norris. Go to sleep, or I’m taking your phone away." “How am I supposed to sleep without you next to me, huh?” Lando’s voice was full of fake desperation, stretching the words out like he was pleading for a lifeline.

“Right, well, now I’m about to throw up,” Max interrupted, cutting through the conversation with his dry humour.

"Fewtrell, you knew better. shouldn't have entertained him when he asked you to play." "yeah that's right! you get him baby" "Didn't I say go to sleep? I'm telling Jon about this tomorrow" "This isn't over Max!" Lando manages to shout before the line cuts.

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Taking her back

Lando, Max, and Y/N had been best friends long before Lando and Y/N started dating, and though Lando loved how well his girlfriend and best mate got along, there were times when his jealousy got the best of him.

"Baby, come on. You've been playing with Max forever!" Lando whined, his voice dripping with playful frustration. Both Y/N and Max paused their game, turning to see Lando dramatically sprawled out in the chair behind them, looking all sorts of pouty.

"Lan, you’ve been glued to your phone for the past two hours," Y/N teased with a laugh. "We’ve asked you to join us, like, a million times"

"That’s different!" Lando huffed. "I need you. Did you not miss me? It’s the first time we’ve seen each other in a week!" He gave them a puppy-dog look, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his adorable pout.

"A week’s not that long, mate," Max teased, unable to resist poking fun.

"Shut up, you dickhead. I wasn’t talking to you," Lando snapped back, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "You're only saying that because P’s been with you the whole time."

"Y/N is literally 6 feet away from you—" Max shot back, raising an eyebrow.

"—Yeah? And you’re about 6 feet away from getting punched," Lando retorted, his playful threat making everyone laugh.

"You’re so easy to wind up," Max said, shaking his head in amusement, clearly enjoying Lando's reaction.

"Very mature, you two," Y/N spoke up, watching the back-and-forth between Lando and Max with an amused smile.

"Baby, please, can we kick Max out? I need some me and you time," Lando groaned, rolling his chair closer to Y/N, his eyes full of exaggerated desperation.

"Lando, chat asked her to join my stream today," Max protested, raising an eyebrow. "You’re really gonna steal her away from them?"

"They’re stealing her away from me right now," Lando shot back, narrowing his eyes playfully at the camera.

"Alright, you big baby, one more round, then we'll leave Max alone," Y/N chuckled, turning to face Lando and gently running her hand through his hair.

"No. Now," Lando pouted, shamelessly showing just how needy he was, making Y/N laugh as she gave him a soft, teasing look.

"I'm about this close to bleaching my eyes and ears, mate," Max teased, smirking at the chaos unfolding.

"I'm about this close to kicking you out of my flat—" Lando leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at Max.

"—OKAY. Chat, my kids are throwing tantrums now, I think it’s time for me to go," Y/N sighed in defeat, sitting up straight with a playful roll of her eyes. "You two are impossible." She gave both of them an exasperated but affectionate look, knowing she’d have to be the voice of reason.

"boooo! not bob stealing y/n from us" "NOOO don't leave Y/N" "LN being selfish lol" "hes neeeedy"

Max let out a laugh as he read through the chat, clearly enjoying the chaos. "They're booing you, mate—yeah, chat! That's right! He’s stealing Y/N from us!" Max egged them on, his voice full of mischief.

Just as Y/N stood up from her seat, ready to leave, Lando grabbed her arm, pulling her back down onto his lap. He held her firmly by the waist, giving her a quick kiss.

Y/N gently shoved him, standing up again with a soft laugh, trying to hide the flustered look that had crept onto her face from his sudden move. Lando, now sporting a proud smirk, looked straight at the camera. "Gotta take my girl back now, chat," he said with a playful wink. "We’ll see you guys next time."

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Look at my girl

"Did you get the code? I sent it to you on WhatsApp," Lando said, setting his phone down and turning his attention back to his screen as he finished setting up the game.

"Yep, got it. We're using in-game mics, yeah?" Max replied, joining the lobby.

Before Lando could answer, a soft knock echoed through the room. He instinctively pulled off one side of his headphones, swiveling his chair to find Y/N standing by the door.

"I'm heading out now, bub" her voice carried through the mic, chat flooded with messages about how soft Lando’s gaze had just turned.

"Look at you all dressed up—where are you headed, my pretty girl?" Lando smirked, leaning back in his chair, eyes shamelessly trailing over his girlfriend.

A blush crept up Y/N’s cheeks as she shifted on her feet, slightly embarrassed by her boyfriend’s proud declaration. "I’m having lunch with Alex today, remember?"

"You look beautiful, my love," Lando murmured, his grin widening before turning back to his stream. "Chat, doesn’t Y/N look absolutely stunning?"

"Maate, start the bloody game!" Max groaned, dragging out the words in frustration.

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Alright, Lan, I gotta go—they're arriving soon."

"Alex is picking you up?" Lando asked, tilting his head as he kept his eyes on her.

Y/N nodded. "Charles offered to drop us off at the restaurant. I'll bring you home food, and I’ll send you the menu when I get there."

Lando’s expression softened. "Have fun, my love. Text me if you need anything."

"Got it. Bye, chat—" Y/N smiled, giving a small wave as she stepped out the door.

"—What?! Hey, hey, no! Come back—baby, my kiss!" Lando whined, nearly pushing himself out of his seat, watching her leave with a dramatic pout.

She let out a playful groan but stepped back into the room, making her way toward Lando.

"Look at her, everyone—stunning," Lando grinned, taking her hand in his. "Alright, bye, gorgeous. Have a great time."

Y/N smirked, holding her hand up to the camera—mimicking the way Lando had covered it on a previous stream—before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"Thanks for that, Y/N, really appreciate the modesty," Max's voice rang through Lando's headphones, dripping with sarcasm. "Hope you do that to my eyes next time, yeah?"

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Don't look at my girl

Lando had been on Twitch for a good hour now, casually playing UNO with Max and a few other friends on who were on Discord. It was all easygoing banter, a way to kill time before diving into a more intense Tarkov session.

Y/N walked in not too long after, carefully balancing plates of food in her hands. Without looking up from his screen, Lando muttered a quick, “Thanks, love,” too focused on his cards to even glance her way.

It wasn’t until the chat suddenly exploded with rapid messages that his attention flickered toward the comments. His brows furrowed, eyes scanning the screen.

"hi Y/N" "okay hot mama!" "Y/N you look stunning babe" "can Lando fight?"

“‘Can Lando fight’—chat, what the fuck?” he scoffed, finally turning his head toward his girlfriend.

And then he saw it.

The slightly cropped, low-necklined tank top hugging her in all the right places, a sight he was very much happy to see, just not so happy to share with the rest of the world.

His reaction was instant. “Baby… where’s the rest of your shirt?” Lando whined, reaching out to tug at the hem of her top as if he could magically make it longer.

Y/N only laughed, swatting his hands away. “It’s literally just a tank top, Lando.”

“Yeah, and apparently, it’s starting fights in my chat.” He shot a glare at the screen before narrowing his eyes at her playfully.

As Y/N stood up, completely unaware of the way the camera was angled, she leaned forward slightly to grab something from behind the monitor.

Lando, ever vigilant with his quick reflexes, moved faster than ever, one hand darting out to cover her chest while the other reached for the mouse, ready to slam the stream off if necessary.

“Woah, woah—baby! Careful, please,” he blurted out, eyes wide as he practically shielded her from the world.

Connor’s laughter echoed through the call. “LN’s about to have a heart attack, mate.”

Y/N, finally realizing what had just happened, let out a soft laugh as she sat back down, napkins now in hand. “I was just grabbing these, bub. Calm down.”

Lando let out a dramatic sigh, clutching his chest like he’d just lived through a near-death experience. “Baby, please, I’m begging—could you put on a hoodie or something?” His voice was almost desperate, eyes flicking between her and the chat that was going absolutely feral.

Y/N raised a brow, arms crossing over her chest. “You’re overreacting.”

“Yeah, well, they’re not getting a free show,” Lando huffed, shooting a glare at the screen before rolling his eyes. With one last grumble, he finally turned his attention back to his game, picking up his fork to dig into dinner—all while side-eyeing the chat every few seconds.

Meanwhile, Max was wheezing through his mic. “I swear you just aged five years.”

Connor chuckled. “Bro’s fighting battles no one else can see.”

"still cant believe he was able to pull her" "Y/N leave him be with me" "she looks unreal" "lando better know how to fight"

Lando didn’t say a word, just stood up abruptly and rushed out of the room, leaving his friends confused as his turn in UNO was about to run out.

“Where’s he gone now?” Max muttered, clicking onto Lando’s stream, only to see Y/N sitting there, casually eating and playing in his place.

She simply shrugged, unfazed, taking Lando’s turn for him as she popped another bite of food into her mouth. A few seconds later, Lando reappeared, arms full, determination set on his face.

“Pick.”

“Huh?” Y/N blinked up at him, mid-chew.

“Pick one. Shirt, hoodie, or blanket?” He stood in front of her, dead serious, holding up the options like this was a life-or-death decision.

Y/N let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Baby, pick.” Lando repeated, unwavering.

“Lan, it’s really not that—”

Before she could even finish, he had already tossed the clothes onto the floor and made the executive decision himself, unfolding the blanket and draping it over her shoulders. “Right, blanket it is.”

Y/N sat there, wrapped up like a burrito, staring at him in amused disbelief.

Max was howling through the mic. “Mate, she’s looks like she's about to go to bed”

Lando glanced over at her, a proud grin spreading across his face as he admired his work. “There. Better,” he said, his tone smug but warm, clearly pleased with himself for making sure she was all cozy and covered up.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how serious he was about it, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” she teased, tugging the blanket a little lower, enough to free her hands.

“I’m just making sure you’re comfy,” he replied, his grin only widening. “Don’t want you catching a chill, do I?”

She shook her head, playfully rolling her eyes, but the smile she gave him was all warmth. “You’re something else, Lan.”

Lando only winked, clearly pleased with his efforts. “I try.”

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Rumour has it

It had only been a couple of weeks since Lando and Y/N had last been seen together in public, but the internet had exploded. Breakup rumors, theories about a fallout, and even claims of a “divorce era” started circulating among fans. Of course, Lando and Y/N found it all utterly ridiculous. But why not have a bit of fun with it?

Tonight, Max was streaming, and Lando was, as usual, by his side. The chat was absolutely flooded with questions and speculations, with fans wondering where Y/N had gone, why they hadn’t seen them together lately, and if they were still a couple. Usually, they wouldn't entertain it, but Lando couldn’t help but grin at the chaos as Max glanced at him, his face filled with mischief.

“Mate, you’ve been dodging questions for weeks now. People are asking if you and Y/N are okay. What's going on? Is it true? Are you in the ‘divorce era’ now?” Max teased, his voice full of drama.

Lando leaned back in his chair, groaning. “Oh don't even say her name around me. We're happily separated,” he said with exaggerated seriousness. He watched as the chat went wild, fans speculating whether he was joking or not.

"this is NOT funny im fighting for my life over here" "i honestly cant tell if hes serious pls" "stop asking ab their personal lives guys" "theyre clearly fine, look at him" "oh theyre fine lol"

Max laughed, clearly enjoying it. “Heard it here first chat, there you go”

Lando shrugged dramatically. “Sometimes, I still hear her voice"

Before Max could respond, the door behind Lando opened. Y/N walked in casually, wearing one of Lando’s hoodies, hair up in a messy bun. She stopped when she saw the camera, raising an eyebrow at Lando’s ridiculous grin.

“Hey, guys,” she said, giving the camera a casual wave.

"See! it's like she's still here” Lando pretends to wipe a tear

Max burst into laughter, while Y/N, confused as ever, attempts to read the chat. "Why are you guys talking about me like I've died?"

Lando looked at her with all seriousness. “Baby please. We're broken up remember, gosh keep up will 'ya"

Y/N nods, the expression on her face immediately switching from confused to locked in. "Oh— guys, being in this room right now pains me. I can't even look at him"

Max, lounging back in his chair with a smirk, couldn't help but shake his head. "You two were definitely eating up this breakup rumour stuff, huh?"

Lando and Y/N couldn't help but break, letting out small laughs at the comment. “Oh fuck yeah, we’ve been lying in bed, giggling like idiots, reading threads and watching tiktoks about it,” Lando said, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“We purposely stopped liking each other’s posts and hid from the public" Y/N grinned, “And had so much fun doing it,” she added, sticking her tongue out at the camera.

Max threw his hands up. “You lot deserve an Oscar for this shit”

Lando, still grinning, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, mate, you’re telling me— I had Carlos knocking at my hotel room at three in the fucking morning after reading some random breakup article online.”

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Not so subtle

It was well past 1 AM, but Lando was still wide awake, glued to his Twitch stream, deep into another round of Tarkov with his friends. The chat was slowly saying their goodnights, viewers logging off one by one—but Lando? He and the guys were more awake than ever, already planning a few more rounds like the night had just begun.

Y/N was not one to stop Lando from enjoying his alone time, but it was getting late. She had just finished yet another episode of her go-to comfort show—but sleep still hadn’t come. With a glance at the clock and a sigh, she finally got up, padding toward the other room. Maybe she could convince Lando to get some rest… or at least come fill the cold, empty space beside her.

“Baby… it’s late, come to bed.”

Y/N’s soft voice barely stood a chance against Lando’s, drowned out by his rapid-fire strategy talk and the sharp bursts of gunfire from his game. He didn’t even flinch, too locked in, too focused.

It wasn’t until she stepped closer, bathed in the soft glow of his monitors, that the chat began to stir, messages flooding in at the sight of her. Only then did Lando pull off one side of his headset, glancing up at her with a lazy smile.

“Hi, gorgeous. Thought you were asleep already,” he murmured, seamlessly giving out directions to his teammates in the same breath.

“Couldn’t sleep… You should come to bed now. It’s late.”

“I know, baby. Just give me ten minutes, alright?”

“Bedtime for little Lando?” Connor teased, earning a chuckle from Max and an eye roll from Lando.

“Shut up, Connor."

Instead of leaving, Y/N plopped down in the free chair beside him, mindlessly scrolling through her phone. She barely noticed how time slipped by—until she glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed since Lando promised he’d be done.

“Lan, it’s been 15.”

“10 more minutes, baby. Just a little longer,” he mumbled, eyes still glued to the screen.

"he's so stubborn lol" "poor y/n" "listen to ur gf pls lando, im sleepy but i have fomo"

Another 15 minutes passed, and Y/N, now visibly annoyed, let out a sigh. “Lando.” No pet name. Just his name. Max chuckled on the other end.

“Mate, I’d log off now if I were you. Y/N is scary when she’s tired and cranky.”

Lando glanced over, taking in her tired expression. “Baby, go to bed, you look exhausted… I’ll be there soon, okay? C’mere, gimme a kiss.”

Smooth. A clear attempt to buy himself a little more time.

Y/N gave him a blank stare, then simply nodded before standing up. No protest, no further attempts to drag him to bed. Instead, she turned to the stream with a small smile.

“Okay… goodnight, guys. Have fun playing with Lan. Goodnight, baby.”

Lando blinked, a little surprised that his plan actually worked. He grinned up at her, feeling triumphant, until she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, her lips barely brushing his ear as she whispered.

“I was gonna let you have me any way you wanted tonight… your loss.”

His smirk vanished instantly, his head following Y/N's trail, now exiting the room.

"WHAT DID SHE SAY OMG" "look at his face she definitely said something" "bro is cooked lmao" "lando fumbled baaad"

Beyond distracted by what his girlfriend just whispered in his ear, he misses an opponent causing Max to get killed in game earning a battering of complaints

"Gotta log off now guys, goodnight" Lando, without saying a proper goodbye, had managed turn everything off, leaving both the game and his stream in record breaking time.

Max, watching Lando vanish without a word, quickly put the pieces together as the chat exploded with teasing. Realizing he could save his friend from some serious trouble, Max cleared his throat and leaned into the microphone.

“Bet she’s got him in trouble now. He’s probably getting an earful for keeping her waiting.” Max grinned, adding, “Man’s gonna need a serious apology when he gets off. You know how it is—no escaping when she’s upset.”

Even the chat could pick-up how he's working extra hard to save the his best friends from a PR nightmare.

"Max working extra hard tonight" "LN and Y/N got Max sweating bullets lol his face" "Max being the bigger man, respect" "Theyre bout to hear an earful from max too after this"

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Shameless

Chat was going wild. It was a random Friday night, no announcements, yet, somehow, Lando had appeared with his own stream. Even Max, mid-game, was caught off guard when the messages started rolling in, asking him to play with Lando.

Lando, sitting in his chair, still looked like he had just stepped out of the shower, his hair damp, he wore a matching grey sweatsuit and hoodie.

“What’s going on, mate? You’re back early. Thought you two were out for dinner?” Max’s unmistakable voice crackled through the speakers as he joined the group Discord, clearly catching onto the sudden shift in the vibe.

“Aye chat, Max is here! Yeah, mate, we were, but got back home and decided to hop on,” Lando cheered, clearly stoked to hear his friend's voice.

“Loving the enthusiasm, man. You seem happy tonight. You up for some golf?” Max chuckled, amused by the energy radiating off Lando.

“We can play whatever you want, Max. Feeling really lucky tonight,” Lando replied, a grin spreading across his face.

Max raised an eyebrow, eyeing him with a teasing smirk. “You’re worrying me a bit, mate. You sick or somethin’? Bit too happy for my liking.”

Lando just kept dancing and singing along to his music, looking even more upbeat, and Max couldn't help but laugh. “Alright, what’s going on with you, seriously?”

It was as if the universe had perfectly timed it—Y/N walked into the room, completely unaware that her boyfriend had already started his stream. She was wearing nothing but the white long-sleeved button-up shirt he had worn during their date earlier that night, the one fans had captured in photos. Her hair was slightly messy, giving her a carefree, just-rolled-out-of-bed look as she casually walked in.

"Lan, did you see my cleanser by any chance? It’s not in the bathroom." Y/N stood just by the door, just enough to be in frame of Lando’s camera.

As soon as she appeared, the chat went wild, and Max couldn’t help but laugh, not even attempting to rescue them this time. “Hey Y/N, my chat's saying Lando’s shirt looks better on you than it did on him.”

Y/N froze for a few seconds, her face turning bright red before she quickly dashed out of the room, her voice still audible through the mic as she shouted, “Lando Norris, you little shit!”

Lando, in too good of a mood to keep it together, couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, chat, calm down—we’re all adults here.” He leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face as he wiped away a few tears of laughter.

After a beat, he stood up, still chuckling to himself. “I’ll be back in a minute, guys.”

He left the room, probably heading off to help Y/N find her cleanser, maybe even consoling her after the little reveal. The chat was buzzing with teasing comments, but it was clear Lando wasn’t too worried—he’d be back soon, and the situation was already too funny to be mad about.

"post sex stream is insaaane" "man was glowing, no wonder" "PR team fighting for their life after this" "Landos phone bout to blow up" "meeting being set up as we speak"

Lando returned, a smirk still tugging at his lips as he casually sat back down, as if nothing had happened. “Right, Max, what are we playing tonight?”

Max raised an eyebrow, eyeing his friend with a grin. “Look at him, so smug. Had a great night, didn’t you?”

Lando let out a laugh, shrugging nonchalantly. “Told you, mate, we went and had dinner.” He paused for a second, then winked at the camera, his smirk widening. “Just had to head home early to have some dessert.”

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Coming Home to You

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: it’s senior night a very big night for Paige indeed.. and you can’t miss it not when you’re each other’s home

For the past few weeks, keeping this secret had been absolute torture. Every time Paige texted me about how much she wished I could be at her senior night, my heart ached. I wanted to tell her, wanted to ease that longing in her voice, but I knew it would be worth it. Everyone was in on it—her teammates, the coaching staff, even her parents. The only person in the dark? Paige herself.

Now, as I sat on the plane with my niece squirming beside me, I felt the anticipation bubbling in my chest.

“Auntie, are we there yet?” my five-year-old niece, Aria, whined, her little legs swinging beneath her seat.

“Almost, baby,” I reassured her, smoothing down her curls. “Paige is gonna be so happy to see you.”

She grinned, showing off the gap where she had just lost a tooth last week. “She’s gonna be so surprised, right?”

I laughed, nodding. “Yeah, she has no idea we’re coming.”

Aria giggled, kicking her feet harder. She adored Paige, and the feeling was mutual. Anytime we FaceTimed, Paige always asked about her, sending little gifts and promising to teach her how to dribble properly one day.

As the plane began its descent, my stomach tightened. I had spent months away from Paige, only seeing her through a screen, listening to her talk about the season, about how it felt knowing this was her final year in a UConn jersey. She deserved to have her people there, and I needed to be there for her—just like she’d always been for me.

By the time we landed, the rush of excitement made my fingers tingle. Paige’s mom picked us up, greeting us with a warm hug before driving straight to campus. The plan was simple: hide in the tunnels until the seniors were honored, then walk out as they announced her name.

Aria bounced in her car seat, unable to contain herself. “I wanna run to Paige first! Can I? Can I?”

“Of course, baby,” I smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “She’s gonna love it.”

Game Night: Gampel Pavilion

The energy inside Gampel was electric. The crowd was buzzing, the students loud as ever, and the court gleamed under the bright lights. My heart pounded as I hid just behind the tunnel entrance, holding Aria’s hand tightly while the announcer began reading out names.

Each senior walked out to cheers, their families meeting them at center court. Paige was the last one to be called.

“And finally, our captain, our leader—number five, Paige Bueckers!”

The crowd erupted. My breath hitched as I peeked around the tunnel, watching Paige step forward, waving to the fans, her eyes already glassy with emotion. She thought her parents were the only ones waiting for her—but that was about to change.

“Now,” I whispered to Aria, squeezing her hand before letting go.

She took off like a shot.

“PAIGE!”

Paige barely had time to turn before Aria’s tiny body launched herself at Paige’s legs. Her arms instinctively wrapped around Aria, shock flashing across her face before realization dawned.

“What—? Aria?” Her voice cracked, looking down at the little girl clinging to her.

That’s when I stepped out.

The second Paige’s eyes met mine, everything around us seemed to fade. Her mouth parted in disbelief, her hands still frozen around Aria as if she thought she might be dreaming.

I smiled, my throat tightening. “Hey, baby.”

The moment shattered as she let go of Aria and practically ran to me, wrapping me up in the tightest hug imaginable.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice trembling against my ear.

“I’m here,” I murmured, holding onto her just as tightly. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

She pulled back slightly, cupping my face with both hands, her thumbs brushing over my cheeks as if she needed to make sure I was real. “You—you flew all the way here? When? How? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I laughed, my own tears welling up. “Because I wanted to surprise you. Everyone knew except you.”

She shook her head, laughing through her disbelief. “You’re evil.”

“You love me, though,” I teased.

Her grin softened into something more tender. “Yeah,” she murmured, pressing her forehead to mine. “I really, really do.”

The crowd was still cheering, the moment stretching between us as if we were the only two people in the gym. Paige’s hands never left my face, and I could feel her heart racing just as fast as mine.

“This is the best surprise ever,” she whispered.

I bit my lip, glancing down at Aria, who was grinning up at us, completely unbothered by the fact that she had just helped execute the best senior night surprise in history. “I had some help.”

Paige laughed, ruffling Aria’s curls before scooping her up into her arms. “You little sneak,” she teased.

Aria giggled, hugging Paige’s neck. “I missed you, P!”

“I missed you too, munchkin.” Paige pressed a kiss to her cheek before turning back to me. “God, I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“I wasn’t gonna let you finish this without me,” I said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “You deserve to have the people who love you here, Paige.”

Her expression softened, and she tugged me close again, this time pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. “I don’t know how I got so lucky,” she whispered.

I smiled. “I think we both got lucky.”

She let out a soft laugh before glancing at the crowd, then back at me. “You’re staying for a while, right?”

I nodded. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Her grin turned into something mischievous. “That’s a dangerous offer, baby.”

“I’m serious.” I squeezed her hand. “I don’t wanna be apart anymore. I wanna be with you.”

For a moment, she just stared at me, and then—right there, in front of everyone—she leaned in and kissed me.

It was soft, sweet, and full of every unspoken word between us.

When she pulled away, her eyes were bright, full of something deeper than happiness. “Then stay,” she murmured. “Stay with me.”

I grinned. “You don’t even have to ask.”

She kissed me again, and this time, I knew—no matter where life took us, no matter what came next—I would always come home to her.

Paige’s POV

The adrenaline from senior night hadn’t worn off, but the moment we stepped inside my apartment, exhaustion hit me like a freight train. The last few hours had been a blur—cheers, speeches, hugs, and the overwhelming joy of seeing her again. Seeing them again.

Aria clung to me the entire time, refusing to let go even after we left the arena. Every time I tried to pass her off to her aunt, she just tightened her grip around my neck, mumbling, “I missed you too much.”

I wasn’t gonna fight her on it. I missed her too.

Now, after a well needed shower, the little girl was curled up against my chest, completely knocked out, her tiny fingers still clutching the front of my hoodie like she was scared I’d disappear again.

I glanced over at the love of my life—because that’s what she was, no doubt about it—as she set her bag down by the door, stretching out her arms with a soft groan.

“You look dead,” I teased, my voice barely above a whisper.

She shot me a tired glare, but the small smile on her lips told me she wasn’t really mad. “I feel dead. That flight, the sneaking around, wrangling her—” she gestured at the sleeping child nestled in my arms. “I deserve a medal.”

I laughed, adjusting Aria slightly so she wouldn’t slip. “You deserve a lot more than that.”

Her expression softened, and she stepped closer, reaching out to brush a stray curl from Aria’s forehead. “She missed you like crazy, you know.”

“I missed her too,” I murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Aria’s head.

Her eyes flickered to mine, something unreadable in them. “And me?”

I smirked, tilting my head slightly. “You? Who’s that?”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh, okay. That’s how we’re playing this?”

I bit my lip to hold back a laugh, but the playful glare she shot me made it impossible. “Come here,” I said softly, and the teasing faded from her face.

She stepped between my legs, resting her hands on my shoulders as I pulled her closer with one arm, the other still supporting Aria.

“You know I missed you,” I murmured, letting my forehead rest against hers.

Her breath hitched, and I could feel the weight of the months apart in the way she exhaled, like she was finally letting herself breathe again.

“I hate being away from you,” she admitted quietly. “I hated every second of it.”

I tightened my hold on her waist, pressing my lips to her temple. “Then don’t be.”

Her fingers dug into the fabric of my hoodie. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Because it is,” I murmured, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “You said you wanted to stay. So stay. I don’t care how we make it work—I just know I don’t wanna go another night without you.”

She swallowed hard, searching my face like she was trying to memorize every detail. “Paige…”

“I’m serious.” I brushed my thumb over her cheek, letting myself get lost in her warmth. “I love you. I don’t wanna keep doing this long-distance thing when we both know where this is going.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she let out a shaky laugh. “And where’s that?”

I gave her a knowing look. “Where do you think?”

Her lips parted slightly, her eyes flickering between mine, and I could see the exact moment she realized I meant every word.

“You mean—”

“I mean,” I cut her off gently, “that I see forever when I look at you.”

Her face crumbled, and she let out a soft, shaky breath before pressing her lips to mine. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—just right. Just home.

When she pulled away, her forehead rested against mine, and she whispered, “I see forever with you too.”

I smiled, feeling something settle deep in my chest. “Good.”

A tiny, sleepy voice suddenly mumbled between us.

“Paige?”

We both froze before glancing down. Aria stirred slightly, blinking up at me with half-lidded eyes.

“Yeah, munchkin?”

Her tiny hand reached up to touch my cheek, her voice drowsy. “Don’t go away again.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, holding her just a little bit closer. “I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

She sighed contently, snuggling deeper into my hoodie.

I glanced at the love of my life, who was watching us with nothing but pure adoration in her eyes.

Home wasn’t a place. It was this. It was her. It was the sleepy little girl in my arms, the steady heartbeat against mine, and the unspoken promise that we’d never have to say goodbye again.

I had everything I needed right here.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵����

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[nodoubtily]

warnings : soft sex, enemies to lovers, bathroom quickie, pet names, happy ending, rushed as hellllll taglist :

@jyikeu

@goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby

@17ericas

Maybe it was because of the half-empty drink in your hand, or maybe the way his clothes fit him perfectly, but you know for a fact that you want him.

You want Lee Heeseung.

If someone told you earlier how bad you wanted— no, needed, him, you would have laughed in their face and called them delusional. But now you were here, you can’t help but feel you’ve been feeling this way for a while.

You ignore this though, and your reach your cup to your lips, letting the liquid fall between inside your mouth, and swallow it all down. Maybe you should get another drink.

“You look…different.” You almost dropped the damn cup. His voice replays in your mind as if it’s a song you can’t get over. You sigh, pretending to be annoyed.

“What do you want, Lee.” You groan.

“I want to know where this body of yours has been. Maybe, it’s just been hiding under all the baggy clothes you drown it in.” He just also be a little under it, as he’d never say that sober.

“Maybe i’m just trying to find someone to use it.” Your words awaken a side he’s been trying to hold chained.

“How so?” He stands next to you now, his drink forgotten next to him.

“I want to be fucked, Heeseung. Absolutely ruined.” Your eyes meet his, and he swears you only said that to him because you want him just as much as he wants you.

“By who?” He just needs to hear it. Hear it from your weakening voice. He stands right in front of you, hands resting on either side of you, palming the counter behind you.

“Whoever—“ you look away, but Heeseung brings his hand to your chin, and he forces you to lock eyes with him.

“Don’t you fucking lie”. His voice is low, you can barely hear it over the music. “Want me to fuck you?”

“Need you to fuck me.” Your fingers fiddle with his party shirt, and that’s all the confirmation he needs, and his hand wraps around your wrist, and he drags you to the closest toilet.

“Oh fuck.” Your voice drips with pleasure, your legs trembling around his waist. “S—so deep.” Your voice wavers, feeling Heeseung reach deeper places you didn’t know to be real as he slowly glides in and out of you.

“Pussy so tight around me, baby.” His voice shakes with need, his tip rearranging your guts as he slowly fucks you. “Doesn’t want me to leave.”

“So don’t.” As much as you don’t want to admit, you don’t want this moment to end, because that means that you have to go back to being enemies. Heeseung can see the thoughts circulating your head, and his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss, his hips grinding, his tip abusing your g-spot as desperate whines leave his mouth.

This kiss says a lot, and you can’t help but feel the urge to cum, and so your arms snake around Heeseung’s neck, bringing him closer as your walls spasm around his throbbing cock.

Your eyes roll, mouth gaping as silent moans elicit from your throat. “Shit, you’re getting so tight—fuck.” His hips snap faster as he chases for his needed climax, and his thrusts turn sloppier by the second, before pulling out, cumming over your pussy.

“Feel so good, Hee.” The nickname slips out of your mouth before you could stop it, and Heeseung’s climax continues, more coming out as his hand wraps around the shaft, jerking it. It was the way you said it, needy, eyes glazed with lust as you stared up at him. He couldn’t help it.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna get me horny again.” Heeseung says as if that’s a bad thing. But he slips his jeans on again, zipping them up without saying a word.

“Heeseung.”

He hums in response.

“Do you hate me?” Your question freezes him for a second, before moving again.

“No. Do you hate me?”

“No.” Your response was quicker. “I think I love you.” You added. And before you could even regret it, Heeseung kissed you again.

“I know I love you.” His words swell, and you can’t help but feel weird. But it’s a good weird. A weird you’re gonna have to get used to.

[strwberri-milk]

Hi! i love ur blog and wanted to request something for the LnD boys! can u write them being aware that theyre in a game, but they like the actual reader (not mc) but the reader has an irl boyfriend so theyre jealous? if u did that would be awesome! thanks sm

honestly i suck at self aware stuff LMAO hope this works

Zayne's just Dawnbreaker 2.0 except even worse because he knows you exist, but he doesn't exist in the way he needs to in order to be with you. He wouldn't do anything really besides wait for you, hoping that you'll spend some more time with him. He doesn't really think about the fact that you have a partner, ignoring it so he can live in his little pockets of time with you as they are. His life centers you, but he knows yours could never center him. He doesn't mind though - as long as he can make you happy that's all he wants.

Xavier/Rafayel hates every moment of it. He craves you with every part of his being and knowing that you're so close yet so far infuriates him. Knowing that someone else is able to be with you, touch you, love you the way he wants to above anything else haunts in in a way he never thought it could. He doesn't know what to do or how to cope with these feelings at all, forced to watch helplessly as you shower someone that isn't him in the love he's been fighting for his entire life.

Sylus hides his anger and sadness under an uncaring facade. He doesn't know what to do and feels absolutely helpless. He won't act any differently on screen but his mind is constantly racing with thoughts of how he can try to bridge this gap between the two of you. He feels like he should be able to but the sheer fact that he just...isn't real in your world bears down on him in a way he never thought it could, wishing that things were different. All he can do is hope that you're loved the way you deserve to be, even if he wants nothing more than to replace that person you call a partner.

[zeroses-world]

strays react to you being good with kids!

like 1, being good with kids is such a green flag for anyone, like seeing someone get all soft and caring for a little human that’s barely as tall as their legs

but 2, i may just be self indulgent as someone who’s constantly complimented for how good they are with kids

Stray Kids React to You Being Good with Kids

Bang Chan

Soft smile mode activated. He’s already super dad-coded, so seeing you being naturally good with kids just melts him. He'd stand back for a moment, arms crossed over his chest, watching you play with a toddler with the fondest look in his eyes. "You're really good at that," he’d murmur, almost like he's tucking away the thought for the future.

Lee Know

Silently impressed but trying to act cool about it. He’d probably raise an eyebrow, watching you handle a particularly chaotic child with ease. "Huh. So you're good with kids too?" He’d tease, but secretly, his heart would be doing backflips. The image of you being so patient and gentle with a tiny human? Yeah, he’s doomed. Might not say much, but later, you'd catch him sneaking glances at you with a tiny, almost shy smile.

Changbin

Flustered and in awe. He'd immediately start thinking about what it would be like to start a family one day (not that he'd admit it out loud). "You're, uh, really good with them," he’d say, scratching the back of his neck, trying to hide the fact that he's this close to falling even harder for you. He’d probably start playfully competing with you to entertain the kids, just to impress you.

Hyunjin

Heart eyes, heart eyes, heart eyes. He’d straight-up get all dreamy, watching you with a soft expression, as if he’s in a drama and this is the moment he realizes he’s completely in love. He’d probably take pictures of you interacting with the kids because you just look so adorable doing it. Might even say something ridiculously romantic like, “You look like you were made for this.”

Han

Teasing, but also melting inside. He’d pretend to act jealous. "Oh, so you like them more than me now?" But in reality, he’d be watching you with the most endeared expression. Seeing you laugh, be gentle, and entertain the kids so effortlessly? He'd get all giddy and might even join in just to see you smile. Later, he’d probably bring it up randomly like, “By the way, I think it’s really cute how good you are with kids.”

Felix

Absolutely in love with it. He’s already got a naturally nurturing personality, so seeing you interact with kids so sweetly would make his heart burst. He’d join in immediately, helping you with whatever game you’re playing with the kids, exchanging little smiles with you the whole time. Later, he’d hold your hand and say something like, “You’d make an amazing parent someday,” without hesitation.

Seungmin –

Smug but secretly loves it. He’d definitely tease you. “Ah, so you’re a professional babysitter now?” But deep down, he’d be so impressed. The fact that you can keep up with energetic kids without losing your patience? Huge green flag. He might not say much in the moment, but later, he’d casually drop, “You looked really natural with them. It was nice to see.”

I.N

Shy but super fond. He’d probably get all giggly watching you interact with the kids, feeling warm inside. Would definitely nudge you and be like, “They really like you, huh?” with a knowing smile. Seeing how effortlessly you connect with little kids would just add to his admiration for you, and later, he'd be all, “That was really cute. You’re really good with them.”

[anastasiayeh]

“Lost & Found”

When Task Force 141 needs a place to hide, you reluctantly let them in—only because they have a dog. What you don’t realize? The masked soldier, Ghost, is your long-lost high school sweetheart. As old feelings resurface, a long-awaited kiss is interrupted by a knock that could change everything.

A 141 x Reader Flirty & Fluffy Fic

The Knock That Changed Everything

The knock at your door nearly made you spill your tea.

It was late. Too late for visitors.

You crept toward the door, peeking through the peephole.

Four men. Big. Armed. Intimidating.

And a dog.

A massive, scruffy shepherd mix sat at their feet, wagging his tail.

Your common sense said nope, absolutely not.

Your dog-loving heart said open the door immediately.

Slowly, you cracked the door open, eyes darting between them. “…Hi?”

The tallest one, wearing a skull-patterned mask, nodded. “We need a place to stay.”

Your fingers clenched around the doorframe. “I… I don’t usually let strange men into my house.”

The mohawked one smirked. “We’re not strange, lass. We’re charming.”

You blinked at him. “You literally have a gun.”

Gaz grinned. “Think of it as an accessory.”

The dog whined.

Your resolve crumbled instantly.

“…Come in,” you muttered, stepping back.

Ghost let out a quiet sigh. Of course.

The Team vs. Your Shyness

You regretted it immediately.

They towered over you, their sheer presence making your little living room feel microscopic.

Soap stretched out on your couch like he owned it. “Cozy place, hen.”

“T-Thanks…” you mumbled, tugging at your sleeves.

Gaz shot you a charming smile. “Sorry for barging in. We won’t stay long.”

“I-It’s okay,” you stammered. “I mean, um—not okay, but—not bad either, I just—”

Price chuckled. “Breathe, love.”

You shut your mouth immediately, face heating up.

Ghost, still watching from the corner, muttered, “She’s always been like this.”

You blinked. “H-Have we met?”

Silence.

Ghost stiffened. Soap and Gaz both turned to him so fast.

“…No,” Ghost said, too quickly.

You frowned but got distracted by the dog pressing his cold nose into your palm.

Your whole demeanor shifted in an instant.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, crouching down. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

The dog thumped his tail.

Soap smirked. “She’s smitten.”

Ghost crossed his arms. “Figures.”

You gasped dramatically, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “I love him.”

Ghost muttered, “You only let us in because of the dog, didn’t you?”

You grinned. “Yup.”

Ghost sighed.

The Team vs. Your Hyper Side

At first, you were shy. Soft-spoken. Avoiding eye contact.

Then?

Gremlin mode activated.

Soap learned the hard way.

You poked his bicep, eyes narrowing. “Are these real?”

He choked on his drink. “What?”

“You heard me.” You poked again. “No way these are real.”

Soap grinned. “You wanna feel—”

Ghost smacked him before you could answer.

Gaz was dying. “Oh, I like her.”

You beamed. “Of course you do. I’m adorable.”

Ghost muttered, “That’s debatable.”

You gasped. “Rude.”

Before Ghost could reply, you flopped onto the floor beside Riley, hugging him dramatically. “You’re my favorite.”

Soap whistled. “That’s gotta sting, Lt.”

Ghost glared. “The dog doesn’t count.”

You pouted. “You sure?”

Ghost exhaled deeply.

Meanwhile, you cooed at Riley, whispering, “You’re my new boyfriend now.”

Ghost groaned. “For fuck’s sake—”

Soap wheezed. “Ghost, mate, she left you for the dog.”

Gaz smirked. “Tough luck.”

Ghost’s eye twitched.

Later that night, when the others were asleep, you found Ghost by the window, arms crossed.

You tilted your head. “Broody.”

He exhaled. “What?”

“You. Being all dark and mysterious.” You leaned against the wall. “You do this a lot?”

“Sometimes.”

You hummed. Then, before you could stop yourself—“Okay, real talk. I know you.”

Ghost tensed.

Your eyes flicked to his mask.

Before he could stop you, you reached up and pulled it off.

Your breath caught.

Brown eyes. Scarred brow. Familiar. Older. Sharper.

Memories crashed into you—secret kisses behind the school, whispered confessions, promises that had been left behind.

Your lips parted.

“…Simon?”

His throat bobbed. “Yeah, love.”

Silence.

Then—

You smirked. Slowly.

“So, let me get this straight.” You stepped closer, voice dropping. “You disappear for years. Show up unannounced. Invade my home. And you don’t expect me to flirt with you?”

Ghost exhaled sharply. “Christ…”

You grinned. “You missed me, didn’t you?”

Ghost hesitated.

Then—soft, low—“Yeah.”

Your heart flipped.

You bit your lip. “You always had a thing for me, huh?”

Ghost’s gaze dropped to your lips. “Still do.”

Your breath hitched.

Then—warm, rough—his fingers brushed against your jaw. Testing. Teasing.

You leaned in.

The kiss was slow at first—tentative, searching. Then?

Heat.

Years of unspoken words. Tension. Want.

His hands curled around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You tangled your fingers in his hoodie, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.

You were gone—completely lost in him.

Until—

A sharp knock on the door.

Ghost tensed.

You blinked. “…Are you expecting someone?”

The knock came again. *Hard

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, mentions of blood, self injury, drugging, ooc writing,

Part 19: a rose by any other name…

🔹🔹🔹

The lights of the city are absolutely dazzling tonight from your vantage point, thousands of twinkling little dots all connected to another human in some way or another like a blinking map of souls. Gothams quiet tonight, or as quiet as Gotham can ever be anyways.

He actually decorated a little bit before dragging you up here, a blanket and cooler pack sat just under the ledge and he somehow shoved a small bouquet of black roses in the mouth of the gargoyle statue, you're so picking on him later for that one.

But right now you're just both sitting together on the blanket, shoulders bumping and thighs pressed together as you share a bottle of wine. Some vintage brand that probably costs more than two months of your rent, not that you care to think about it as the bitter liquid warms your throat.

He's already staring when you turn to pass it back to him, blown out pupils and an uncharacteristic smile on his clean shaven face, he says nothing but when he grabs a napkin to wipe at your face you feel his affection warming your cheeks more than the wine could hope to.

“You're gonna embarrass me if you keep looking like that.” You murmur softly as you turn away to hide a small smile into the plush fluff of your chunky sweater, even after so many nights spent like this it catches you off guard when he devotes his full attention to you. He's so…. Intense, his loves a heavy thing.

“How am I looking at you? I'm just enjoying the view.”

You huff softly at the softly spoken flirt and take the wine bottle back from him before he can even take his turn, not that he protests of course, you wouldn't have been able to wrestle it out of his grasp if he didn't truly want you to have it. “You look at me like you have a crush on me.”

It's Bruce's turn to huff softly and roll his eyes, his shoulder bumping into yours before he moves to sling an arm over your shoulder and pull you firmly into his side. “oh wow, how embarrassing for me.”

You can feel the grating dry sarcasm in his voice.

It makes you snicker softly as your head drops against his shoulder with a soft little thump, his arm tightens around you as he grabs the bottle back and takes a long drink, you lazily watch the way his Adams apple bobs before you speak.

“it's very embarrassing, yeah. You're lucky I love you enough to ignore how mortifying it is.”

“TT, do you ever get tired of this?” his voice takes on a much softer edge than you were expecting after the childish taunting, the arm draped around you tightens and you feel his thumb start to slowly rub circles into your shoulder.

You could say a lot, continue to poke fun at him, tell him being his bully is your favorite hobby, But instead you just answer plainly.

“No, I don't think I ever will.”

His arm tightens around you and he leans his head against yours for a moment, inhaling your scent before he straightens again and takes a long swig of the wine, you don't miss the way he shakily exhales before passing the bottle back to you. You've only seen Bruce show signs of nerves a few times throughout the time you've been dating. You like to think you know when he needs to be pushed to open up and when he needs to be left to his own devices by now so you don't question him.

“excuse me a second….” he murmurs gruffly as he suddenly extracts himself from you, you glance at him in confusion for a second as he twists and clambers back onto the rooftop and silently disappears around an air-conditioning vent.

He doesn't return immediately so you return to city-watching by your lonesome, the near perpetual clouds obscure the moonlight but the cities bright in it's own way regardless. You'd once teased Bruce relentlessly for how he spoke of the city, you likened him to a sailor reminiscing his sea-beast. Told him you weren't sure if he was a man devoted or enthralled, loved it divinely or unable to escape it's twisted hold on him. Yet you teased him for it no more, because to love Bruce was to eventually love the wretched city in all her glory.

After a few moments you're pulled from your quiet kinda drunk musings by Bruce's warm baritone behind you.

“I have….a question for you….” he sounds unusually…. Off, behind you. Though when you turn you see why.

You feel like all the airs been sucked out of your lungs when you see Bruce down on one knee with a little black box in his hand, his his entire demeanor is almost boyishly nervous as you lock eyes.

You're very quick to react. “Is-is this- are you?…” The words Tumble out so quick you're surprised you didn't slur them out, your hands start to shake when he nods a little too quickly. “This is happening?”

He again nods quickly. “Yeah this is happening…do you…?”

This time you're the one nodding as you turn fully and look down at him, you nearly drop the wine bottle right off the edge of the building in your nerves. “Oh God…. Oh God I love you…”

You never pictured yourself being proposed to, and you certainly didn't picture yourself starting to cry like a baby if you ever were.

Bruce is trying to be the calm one here so he let's you have your moment, don't get it wrong this is the most afraid he's ever been of fucking something up in his life, but he's trying for your sake.

“That's a yes…. Yeah?” He can barely finish his words before you're cutting him off. “Yes! Yes it's a yes!”

Bruce feels like he can breathe properly again as you nod and try to stumble up off the ledge, but he quickly stops you and, with badly shaking hands, he tries to put the ring he'd painstakingly picked out on your left hand. And by trying he nearly drops it twice before he gets it in there and then he finally lets you stand, he does too so he can quickly wrap his arms around you.

“…. You're really agreeing to marry me….” He murmurs disbelievingly even as you weep happily into his shoulder, like he can't quite grasp that you said yes. You never quite realized how little you've seen him shaken up until this moment, but it just makes it all the more human to you. Bruce Wayne is trying not to cry on you all because you said yes.

“Obviously…like it's a hard choice to make…” you bury your face in his shoulder but he quickly lifts your head back up, his hand sliding down to cup your cheek to keep you in place.

“Yeah…. But it is…. I've spent a long time thinking about this, calculated the risks, and I'd like you to do the same thing before we jump the gu-” you cut him off with a kiss before he can start rambling about why you shouldn't agree or why you should wait this out.

You don't care about the risks his life brings, you don't care if you're gonna be in harms way, in the moment all you care about is the fact that this man wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

🔹🔹🔹

You're a jumbled mess of confused emotions by the time you wake up and process that dream, the other you was…a fucking sap. And even worse? So was Bruce.

You thought you couldn't feel anymore lost and confused in this world, yet clearly you were wrong.

Stumbling to the bathroom on unsteady feet to flick the light on and stare at the mirror, the face staring back isn't yours as much as it is, even if you've added sunken bloodshot eyes and uneasy scowls. The difference is this was a face that was loved, not just needed but wanted. The thought sets off some fight or flight instinct in you and you quickly turn the lights off before you break the damn mirror.

The streets are cold at this hour, chills creeping up your fingers and numbing them painfully even after all the movement. All you can do is tuck your gloved hands tighter into your hoodie pockets as you keep going, the large mansion somehow felt too small, too stifling with too much emotion in the air. Or maybe it was just you running away from your problems that got you here.

The hum of an old neon open sign calls to you like a siren and the chills creeping up your legs compels you to crack open the old heavy door and peek inside carefully.

A twenty-four hour gym greets you, peeling paint reveals old crumbling concrete walls and bright lights give the place an odd air of uncanny, like the backrooms thing Peter once showed you, it'll do.

A slightly wary receptionist buzzes you in after you flashed a bill at them, a fake name rolling off your tongue easily. “Alex Stark, can I squeeze in for a few?”

It's a courtesy question more than anything since the place is quiet and obviously empty, the young receptionist nods boredly and pulls a sign-in sheet out, you change up your signature just to be safe and practically drop the pen to walk further into the gym.

The place smells a bit, like musk and a hint of bleach, At least there's alcohol wipe packs scattered around between the different pieces of equipment. Maybe you won't catch something here if you're careful.

You don't bother with any leg machines since you got more than enough cardio on the way here, so you go straight to the pull-up bar to do some warming up, hanging off the bar until your shoulders start to burn and your fingerprints feel like they're scraping off. Then you do some stretches on a mat, you can't resist it anymore and stroll over to the very thing that pulled you in here in the first place, the punching bags.

You don't have hand wraps but at the moment you don't care, you're pent up, trying to process emotions that are yours and yet aren't, your minds still a loud mess so you silence it, the first punch feels good as much as it stings and shocks your limbs.

This is…. You can't say better, but it's familiar. The sharp bite and dull reverberations up your wrists all the way to your shoulders makes you feel more alive than you've felt in months. There's only so much training you can do in a bedroom and you need to be at your peak. You hit and hit until your knuckles are dark, and then you kick and knee the bag until your already tired calves throb and your knees threaten to buckle, then you go back to punching. Not caring about the skin splitting and smearing tiny droplets of blood along the bag. Nothing a few wipes won't fix before you leave.

The doors open and you watch out of the corner of your eye as a hooded figure enters the gym, though they seem more interested in the treadmill than you so you continue doing your own thing.

“need a spotter?” at the soft call from behind you quickly turn and catch a green eyed woman staring at you, and for just a second your breath catches, picturing a different woman in her place. She looks earnest though and approaches you before you can rebuff her, she sets her hands on the bag and steadies it while leaning around it just enough to keep her eyes on you.

“you've got impressive form you know, like a boxer or something.” she sounds impressed as she follows your movements carefully, the small smile on her face growing more interested by the minute.

She's too immediately chatty for your liking, it just seems off for a stranger. “…thanks.”

“Don't mention it, I'm just glad I'm not the only one here. The place gets creepy sometimes.” she looks around at the slightly shitty conditions of the building pointedly, though her eyes don't leave your form for too long.

“the price we pay to come and punch things at any hour.” your tone is definitely snarky and you know it, not that you're in the mood to reel it in right now.

She only seems to grow more amused at your sarcastic response, she grunts under her breath and adjusts her stance to hold the bag better when it gently knocks into her, you're really going to town on it.

“price indeed, someone making you mad or something? You're treating this thing like it slept with your wife.”

She's clearly looking for conversation, persistent too. You decide to indulge her a bit since she's helping you out and giving you something to focus on. “No one in particular no, just having a week.”

“Mm, I know that feeling well.” You doubt she knows what you're feeling but oh well, she continues on while you keep abusing the punching bag. “Sometimes you just gotta get it out somehow y'know?”

She sounds far too cheery at this hour, you'd thought people in Gotham wouldn't know what friendliness feels like.

Your response is still dry as flour. “Mhmm, better a bag of sand than your spouse.”

She seems to brighten up at that, giggling deviously like you're her bestie giving her the gossip.

“Ooh sounds interesting, are they in the doghouse?” you can't help but roll your eyes a bit at the question, though it's more about you situation than at her. “More like we're in each other's doghouse honestly.”

She winces and whistles through her teeth. “oof, that's never a good thing…. You wanna talk about it or just beat this thing? Sometimes it's good to get this stuff off your chest.”

You shake your head at her offer and just keep wailing on the punching bag, this isn't something to tell a stranger. Hell you wouldn't talk to Rogers or Thor about this if they were here. No this is a you thing.

And that's how things continue on for a while, the gym is quiet other than the sound of your fists connecting with leather and the occasional grunt escaping your mystery named gym partner as she braces for your aggression. It's nice to not have to explain yourself or play stupid with someone, it puts you at ease almost strangely quickly even as your wounded hands smear flecks of blood about.

After a few moments the woman leans over again to catch your eye, her brows furrow as she stares down at your bruised and split hands and she grimaces slightly before she moves.

A manicured hand curls and drags across the surface of the punching bag as she shifts, suddenly flying out to grab a hold of your arm and pull your hand up to her face, near close enough for her blood red lips to touch your cracked and bleeding knuckles. her gaze drags up your arm and body like something heavy, thick lashes nearly cover grass green eyes when she catches your stare and for a moment you blank out.

“you should take a breather, hun.”she murmurs softly while stepping around the punching bag, your hand still in hers. “you look like you need to relax.”

for a moment your head feels cloudy, you don’t notice the cold or the exhaustion in your limbs anymore, you don’t feel the sharp sting in your knuckles and wrists or the bruise blooming on your knee, you can just focus on the warm weight of her hand wrapped around your wrist and the unbreaking stare of her hypnotic eyes.

It's when her thumb delicately swipes over your knuckles, smearing a drop of blood across the bruised skin do you react, it doesn't hurt like it should. This isn't right. Your skin erupts in goosebumps when you realize to your growing horror, you've somehow been drugged.

You roughly jerk your hand out of hers and move back, shit she got to you when you're already tired, why didn't you notice? It's like she dosed you with some kind of aphrodisiac, this woman's a threat.

To your suspicious surprise the redhead just giggles and backs away from you after you moved, amusedly crossing her arms across her chest like this was all just some silly prank she pulled. “Ooh, you're much more observant now.”

Your eyes narrow at that, so she knew you before huh. You were stupid to let her get close to you. “Just who are you.”

“you don't remember me? I'm a little hurt. After all the time we spent together…” she sighs wistfully while flicking a long curl over her shoulder, the smirk she doesn't even try to hide really kills her ‘morose’ tone.

“Who. Are. You.” You practically snarl while taking a wider stance, you're already exhausted, but you'll be damned if you won't fight like a hellcat if she makes a move.

Her arms drop to rest her hands on her hips and she giggles again, that fuzzy feeling in your head starts to return and you realize it must be coming directly from her, like she's breathing out the drug. “You're so abrasive now, you used to be so…soft, like a flower petal ready to be bruised. And here I thought marriage would break you...I think I like the little thornbush you've become, though. It suits you.”

You can practically hear your teeth grinding together as the woman keeps ignoring your question and taunting you with it, maybe you could make a dive for a dumbbell on the rack as she keeps talking…

“am I supposed to be intimidated by your little speech?” You huff out while straightening up, forcing yourself into a relaxed, yet annoyed stance, hands shoved in your hoodie and everything.

“You don't find me impressive baby?” She laughs and moves when you do, matching your movements when you edge closer to the weights rack.

“I find you creepy, wanna tell me what you drugged me with?” She pauses at that, one eyebrow raised as she looks you up and down from head to toe. “You noticed? And here I thought you were just playing hard to get before you'd start begging for a little affection.”

Her words make your gut twist at the sinister implications, you're just about ready to make a dive for a weapon when she continues her lament.

“…then again I was always the one chasing after you, wasn't i.”

She's staring right at you with an unreadable expression on her face, the blank expression just makes her look even more eerie, almost inhuman…

“…I still don't know what you mean, have we met before?” Your frustration builds at the lack of…well anything you're getting, that seems to be the norm in Gotham though.

Her head tilts and she almost looks frustrated with you before another emotion suddenly flickers across her face, she suddenly looks understanding as she straightens up and drops her hands from her hips. “You really did lose everything huh.”

“Yeah no shit Sherlock, wasn't that plastered all over the news enough?” just how does this woman know you? The thought of apparently being acquaintances with someone who apparently drugs people is…. Worrying to say the least.

“I had thought that was exaggerated to give your family some privacy, they seem to love every little chance for shields from the public after all. I wouldn't put it past them to use you like that.” she says nonchalantly while suddenly turning away from you and strolling over to one of the vending machines in the corner, you can only stare at her incredulously, she really just said something like that and then went to get a snack?

Your feet are near silent as you follow after her to continue your questioning. “Just what do you mean by that, is there something I'm missing here?”

She pulls a vitamin water out of the machine and turns to lean against it while cracking it open. “Why don't you ask them that.”

You want to choke her just a little bit.

“I'm asking you, since we're apparently old friends or something.”

She pauses, bottle halfway up to her mouth as she stares you down with a debating expression, lips twisting contemplatively before she speaks again. “….I don't know anything for sure, but I just know that when you got tangled up with them you suddenly weren't…. It's like you were suddenly afraid of Gotham in a whole new way, afraid of me. That hurt, especially after you taught me so much.”

She's still leaning casually but you don't miss the accusatory squint in her eyes as she takes a long drink, the hard clench of her perfect nails into the cheap plastic, she's either genuinely mad or good at faking.

You're even more confused now, what are you dealing with here? “…who are you?”

This time when you ask that she just sighs and starts to approach you, you tense but she just walks past you, only pausing to pat your shoulder and mutter in your ear. “I go by a few names these days, but you used to call me Pam.”

Then she strolls away with an innocent whistle, only saying one more thing before walking out of the gym room altogether.

“If you've ever got questions you should check out the park after dark, the forested part not that disgusting poisoned Earth part.”

And then just like that she's gone, the gym falls completely silent other than the faint hum of the heating unit in the ceiling.

🔹🔹🔹

You bought some basic medical supplies in a twenty-four hour convenience store and wrapped yourself up in the bathroom before getting back out on the street, the gauze and medical tape are clearly cheap quality but the astringent burned enough to know it's doing it's job on your fists.

Gothams even quieter now despite edging towards the break of dawn, without the shooting shouting and honking of horns you can almost appreciate the cities eccentric appearance as you walk back down the cracked sidewalks towards the edge of town. Or you would if your mind wasn't all jumbled up with confusion and paranoia anyways.

No one's mentioned an old friend named Pam but part of you is certain she was telling the truth about knowing you somehow. Those weren't the expressions of someone who's seen you on tv and wanted to have a go at a stranger. No those emotions were personal.

Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and pulls you out of your theorizing enough to answer the call, already knowing who it was gonna be. “Hello.”

“(Name) Thank God! Where are you?” Bruce sounds terrified on the other end of the call, judging by the slight shuffling you hear he's pacing the floor.

Your voice is dead tired as you answer him, the mental and physical toll is this whole thing weighing heavily on you. “I'm….. In the city.”

“What? Where!? Are you alright?”

And just like that the guilt you've been carrying the entire time you've been here comes crashing back down on you when you hear the utter panic in his voice, he's scared for you.

“I'm okay…. Just needed to take a walk.”

He must hear something in your voice because he's quiet for a few seconds, you hear the slightest tremor in his voice as he exhales before he speaks. “…. Okay, i-I'm coming to get you. What street are you on?”

“Bruce I'll make it home on my own, you're going back to work today aren't you?”

He's quick to shut that down though, his voice much firmer than before. “Do you think I want you walking all the way from the city? Please, just tell me where you are before I go out blindly driving. Come on (name)….”

You know he knows he's won when you sigh tiredly into the phone, you don't want to talk about all of this right now but you just know he might actually look for you, he's clearly already checked through the manor if he knows you walked.

“…. I'm next to a 7/11 that's across the street from a bank in-”

“I know where that's at the kids go there all the time, I'll be there in ten. Please don't wander off…”

You're weirdly tired by the time you get off the phone, maybe the restless sleep is finally catching up to you, or maybe it's a lingering effect of whatever you are dosed with, but right now you just want to curl up in your bed and sleep for the rest of the week. You're so tired of the lying and games…

🔹🔹🔹

M.list | prev | next

A/n: lol I spent the longest time on the dream scene, 👁️👄👁️ it's been days because IDK how to write romance yet 😭 but anyways I hope y'all enjoy and have a lovely day/night and pls remember to take care of yourselves! 💞💞💞

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[idkanymark]

[So close to what]

best friends to lovers au | haechan x f!reader

INTRO: your best friend is in love with you but you’re too scared of ruin the friendship to accept his feelings.

w. slightly suggestive

NOTE: Exam season is over and I finally have a little bit of time. How are you?

Do you guys prefer when I use the name Haechan or Donghyuck? Please let me know!

---------

"Did you hear?" Ryujin asked, leaning in with a knowing smirk.

"Heard what?" you replied, raising a brow.

"Hoseok wanted to ask you out—but Haechan stopped him."

"What?" You blinked, stunned.

Everyone knew about Haechan’s feelings for you. He never said it outright, but his actions spoke loud enough. From high school to university, he remained by your side—teasing, annoying, and somehow still your favorite person. You’d lost count of how many times you tried to strangle him, probably resembling Homer and Bart, yet you couldn’t imagine life without him. That’s exactly why you never acknowledged his feelings, and Haechan was smart enough never to say them aloud.

"Do you really not see him as more than a friend?" Ryujin pressed.

"Yes, I'm sure” you said firmly.

Well… that was going to change soon.

Especially that evening, you and Haechan were having your usual dinner night—something that had become routine ever since you recently moved in together near campus.

Coming back from work, you expected the usual - maybe Haechan napping on the couch or raiding the fridge before dinner. What you didn’t expect was to find Haechan shirtless, playing with your dog.

You’d seen him shirtless plenty of times before. But not since he started hitting the gym. And wow—he had changed. Broad shoulders, toned arms, defined abs. When did this happen?

You were too busy staring to realize he had caught you. He turned, amusement flickering in his eyes as he fought back a smirk.

“Oh, you’re back?” he said casually, like he hadn’t just sent your brain into overdrive. “I already prepped everything for dinner.”

“Oh? Mh—yeah, I—” Wait. Why did it suddenly feel hot? Was there no air in here?

“I’m just gonna take a quick shower first!” you blurted before bolting to the bathroom, your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

As you shut the door behind you, you swore you heard him chuckle.

Haechan 1 - 0 You.

By the time you stepped out of the shower, you had successfully convinced yourself that you were not affected by Haechan’s sudden gym-induced glow-up. You were just tired. Stressed. Hungry. That’s all.

You walked into the kitchen, determined to act normal, only to find Haechan already setting up the ingredients. His damp hair was pushed back, a few strands falling lazily over his forehead. The sleeveless shirt he threw on did absolutely nothing to hide the changes you were desperately trying to ignore.

"Feeling better?" he teased, glancing at you with that look—the one that always meant trouble.

You rolled your eyes and reached for the cutting board. "Just hand me the vegetables."

The two of you moved around the kitchen in a familiar rhythm, chopping, stirring, and sneaking bites of food when you thought the other wasn’t looking. Everything was fine—until you struggled with the knife, your hands slipping slightly on the carrot you were cutting.

Before you could react, Haechan was behind you. Right behind you.

"Here, let me help” he murmured, his chest just barely brushing against your back as he reached around you. His hands covered yours, guiding your grip on the knife.

You swore the temperature in the room shot up ten degrees.

"You’re holding it too loosely” he continued, his voice lower than usual. "You need to be firm."

Firm. Right. Firm grip. Not shaky hands. Not the overwhelming awareness of how close he was, how warm he felt, how good he smelled—why does he smell so good?!

"You okay?" he asked, his breath fanning against your ear.

No. Absolutely not.

"Yeah! Of course! Totally fine!" you blurted, stepping forward so fast you nearly knocked the bowl off the counter. "You know what? Maybe you should handle the cutting. I’ll just… stir."

Haechan watched you with amusement, the corners of his lips twitching upward. "You’re acting weird” he said, crossing his arms.

You grabbed the nearest spoon and pointed it at him. "I am not acting weird. You’re acting weird!"

He just chuckled, shaking his head as he picked up the knife again. "Whatever you say."

Haechan 2 - 0 You

And for the first time, you started to wonder if maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as immune to him as you thought.

-----

A road trip was long overdue. Ever since Haechan got his driver license, it had been your thing- just you, Haechan, the open road, a questionable playlist, the endless banter. Nothing had changed.

Or so you thought.

As you hopped into the car, adjusting your seat, Haechan shot you a lazy grin. “I got everything we might need so you can ride comfortably.”

You choked on air.

Ride comfortably?

Your head snapped toward him, but he was already looking straight ahead, fingers drumming against the steering wheel like he hadn’t just said that. Oh, this man was choosing his words very carefully these days.

“Oh?” You cleared your throat, narrowing your eyes. “And what exactly does that mean?”

Haechan turned to you, feigning innocence. “You know, snacks, pillows, a blanket in case you get cold—” He glanced at you, his smirk deepening. “Why? What did you think I meant?”

Your brain short-circuited.

“I—nothing. I just—shut up and drive” you muttered, yanking your seatbelt on as heat crept up your neck.

The car rumbled to life, and soon, you were cruising down the highway, music filling the space between you. But something was different. You could feel it in the air, thick and charged, every teasing glance from Haechan making it worse.

“So” he started, tapping his fingers against the wheel, “when are you gonna admit it?”

You frowned. “Admit what?”

“That you’ve been acting weird around me lately.”

Your grip on your drink tightened. “I have not—”

“You literally sprinted to the bathroom the other day after seeing me shirtless.”

Your jaw clenched. “I was hot.”

“Oh, I bet you were.”

Your head snapped toward him, and he was already grinning like he won some kind of game. You hated how smug he looked. You hated even more how right he probably was.

You exhaled sharply, turning your gaze back to the road.

Haechan 3 - 0 You

And this trip was far from over.

-----

The sky was drenched in deep oranges and purples as the road stretched endlessly ahead. The entire trip had been a game—one you were losing miserably. Haechan had been relentless, throwing teasing remarks and smug glances your way, collecting points without even trying.

But not this time.

You shifted in your seat, stretching your arms above your head with a casual sigh. “Ugh, I should’ve worn something lighter" you muttered, tugging at the neckline of your top just enough to draw attention. “It’s so hot in here.”

Haechan didn’t react at first, his eyes fixed on the road. But you caught it—the quick flicker of his gaze toward you, the subtle shift in his grip on the steering wheel.

Encouraged, you went in for the kill. “Maybe I should just take this off" you mused, fingers hooking under the hem of your shirt as if you were actually considering it.

That did it.

His knuckles went white against the wheel, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and he exhaled slowly, like he was physically restraining himself.

Still, he said nothing.

The air inside the car grew thick with something different. No teasing comeback, no cocky remark. Just tension. Heavy, undeniable tension.

And that’s when you knew.

Haechan wasn’t winning this round. You were. You finally got a point.

A slow smirk crept onto your face as you leaned back, satisfied. “Hey, pass me the aux.”

For a second, he didn’t move. Then, finally, he let out a sharp breath, shaking his head with a disbelieving chuckle as he grabbed the cord and handed it to you.

“You’re so annoying” he muttered, gripping the wheel a little too tightly.

You grinned, plugging in your phone. “Something wrong?”

He scoffed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I hate you”

No, he didn’t.

Haechan 3 - 1 You

-----

The ride to Busan had been long. Five hours of charged silence, stolen glances, and the occasional throat-clearing that neither of you acknowledged. By the time you arrived, exhaustion was settling into your bones—but the universe clearly wasn’t done messing with you.

Because the moment you stepped into your Airbnb, you were met with a problem.

“A bed?” Your voice pitched slightly. “There’s only one bed?”

Haechan, standing behind you, blinked at the sight like he was just now realizing it.

You turned to him, arms crossed. “Haechan. You booked this place.”

“I didn’t know that!” he defended, throwing his hands up. “I just saw the good reviews and a nice view—how was I supposed to check that?”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. The tension had already been unbearable, and now, this? It was like karma was punishing you for something.

Still, you were exhausted. Arguing wasn’t worth it.

“I’ll order food" you sighed. “Go take a shower, you must be tired from all the driving.”

Haechan smirked as he grabbed a towel. “Try not to freak out during our honeymoon, sweetheart” he teased, throwing a wink before disappearing into the bathroom.

You picked up a pillow from the couch and chucked it at the door.

By the time he came out, hair damp and smelling annoyingly good, the food had arrived, and you were already eating. He plopped down across from you, stealing a fry off your plate without asking—typical.

For a while, there was just the quiet clatter of chopsticks and the hum of the TV in the background. Then, finally, he spoke.

“I’ll take the couch.”

You paused mid-bite, blinking at him.

Something about the way he said it made your stomach twist. You should have felt relieved. You should have nodded and moved on. But instead, there was this stupid little twinge of… what? Disappointment?

No. Definitely not.

“Alright" you muttered, pushing your rice around with your chopsticks.

Haechan glanced at you, lips twitching like he was debating whether to say something. “Unless…” he started.

You looked up. “Unless what?”

He grinned, leaning his chin on his hand. “Unless you want me in bed with you.”

You stared at him. “I will smother you with a pillow.”

Haechan laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending the warmth in your face was from the food.

And the night was far from over.

-----

The tension from the car ride still lingered as you both got ready for bed. Haechan was setting up his spot on the couch, fluffing a pillow as if it would magically make it more comfortable. You sat on the edge of the bed, watching him.

He had driven for almost five hours straight. He deserved a comfortable bed—not a stiff couch—yet here you were, letting your ridiculous nerves and hormones get in the way.

What kind of awful person were you?

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Haechan."

He hummed in acknowledgment, not looking up.

You hesitated, then finally blurted, "Would you like to sleep with me on the bed?"

That got his attention.

Haechan froze mid-motion, blinking at you as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. "I’m sorry, what?"

You exhaled sharply. "I said: Would you like to sleep with me on the bed?"

A beat of silence. Then, "Are you sure?" His voice held an unusual hesitation, as if he didn’t quite believe this was happening.

"I’ll change my mind if you don’t jump on the bed in the next few sec—"

You didn’t even get to finish.

Haechan was already diving onto the bed, a satisfied grin on his face.

You rolled your eyes, shifting under the covers as he got comfortable beside you. It felt… strange. Too quiet. Too real. You both instinctively turned your backs to each other, but that only made it worse.

Minutes passed. Maybe an hour. But sleep never came.

You sighed softly, rolling over. "Haechan, are you awake?"

He turned too, now facing you in the dim light. "Yeah."

Your breath caught. Being this close, lying in the same bed—it was something entirely new. His face was barely a foot away, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for something.

He looked ethereal.

"Can I tell you something?" His voice was quieter this time, careful.

Your heartbeat stuttered. "Yeah."

He hesitated for only a second before saying, "I’ve liked you for a while."

The confession hit you like a slow-burning flame, creeping through your chest and spreading warmth and panic all at once.

"It could ruin our friendship…" you whispered.

"It won’t" he said immediately. "We will never break up."

There was no hesitation in his voice, no doubt. Just certainty. And for some reason, that certainty felt like the safest thing in the world.

"Do you feel it too?" he asked.

You swallowed hard, then nodded. "Yes."

Something shifted. The space between you felt smaller, your breaths mingling in the stillness of the room. Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

And then, he kissed you.

It was soft at first, almost hesitant—like he wanted to take his time, like he wanted to memorize the way you felt. His lips moved against yours slowly, testing, savoring. But when you kissed him back, he exhaled against your skin, pulling you in just a little closer. His fingers brushed against your cheek, warm and steady, anchoring you in the moment.

The kiss deepened, unspoken emotions spilling into it—years of teasing, of unspoken tension, of lingering glances neither of you ever acknowledged. And now? Now it was undeniable.

When you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your face.

Then, just as you thought the moment couldn’t get any more overwhelming, Haechan smirked.

"Oh, by the way," he murmured, "I did know there was only one bed"

Silence.

Your eyes widened. "You WHAT?!"

Before he could react, you shoved him, grabbing a pillow to physically wipe that smirk off his face.

Haechan burst into laughter, dodging your attacks. "Hey, don’t be mad! It worked, didn’t it?"

"YOU’RE UNBELIEVABLE!"

Still grinning, he caught your wrists, pulling you back down beside him with a chuckle. "Come on, sweetheart, you still feel like yelling at me?"

You huffed, glaring at him. But the warmth in his gaze, the lingering feeling of his lips on yours—it was impossible to stay mad.

Haechan 4 - 1 You

And somehow, you didn’t even mind.

But then the laughter finally died down, leaving only the sound of your breaths in the quiet room. Haechan was still grinning, lying beside you like he had just won the biggest game of his life. Technically, he had.

You glared at him, still trying to process everything. The confession. The kiss. The fact that he had planned the one-bed situation all along.

But before you could throw another insult his way, he suddenly smirked—that famous smirk, the one that always meant trouble.

"Do you remember my suggestion?" he asked, voice dripping with amusement.

You frowned. "What suggestion?"

Then it hit you.

Your brain rewound back to earlier that day. The car ride. The teasing.

"I got everything we might need so you can ride comfortably."

Your eyes widened, heat creeping up your neck.

Haechan noticed the exact moment you put it together because his smirk deepened.

"Are you still up for it?" he asked, his voice lower now, playful but laced with something else. Something dangerous.

You swallowed, your pulse hammering in your ears. You should say no. You should roll over, ignore him, and go to sleep like a rational person.

But you didn’t.

Instead, without breaking eye contact, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his before tugging him closer.

Haechan’s eyes darkened slightly, his smirk faltering just enough for you to know you had caught him off guard.

“I don’t mind a ride”

That was all he needed.

In a flash, his arms were around you, pulling you flush against him. His warmth, his scent—everything about him surrounded you in an instant. His lips brushed against your temple, trailing slowly down to your cheek before hovering just inches from your lips.

Haechan 5 - 1 You

But by the way he was holding you, it felt like you both won.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

The Doctors and their Pokémon

Fugitive Doctor

Zorua

Stoutland

She got the Zorua first; standard issue from Division, carefully trained and maintained like the gun they also gave her, except she named it and talked to it and by the end of the first mission she refused to give it back, and it refused to leave.

Not that she remembered, of course. Not once she had to hide. Its power is partly what made that happen, what let her hide so long; a Zorua and a fobwatch, and a new mundane life of taxes and takeaways and time passing in order. It couldn't stay with her. Once she was squirrelled safely away, the Zorua changed form to an Ampharos, living alone on the coast, faithfully guarding her TARDIS.

She thinks about that sometimes, about the incredible loyalty and love that must have taken; hiding itself for her, yet staying far away, hoping and trusting it could protect and keep safe a trainer that it would never see again. She can't think about it for too long. It overwhelms her.

She loves the Stoutland, but she can't remember why.

First Doctor

Persian

Polteageist

He's trying to be all old and important, like you do when you're young, and so he's drawn to the Pokémon with gravitas; the ones that suggest wealth and sophistication. Susan wants to stay on Earth in the UK in the 60s (something about the music, apparently), and it seems as safe a place as any; and if many of the men in this period conduct themselves in an eerily similar way to the Time Lords, well. It's nothing to do with homesickness. Absolute nonsense. It'll just help him blend in, that's all.

The Persian is elegant and dignified, snooty and superior in a way he likes. It's disdainful of the roster of new companions that Susan somehow brings home, and continue to arrive even after she leaves, and he likes that too (although it does like Barbara, the three of them often sunbathing while Susan and Chesterton go off exploring on new planets, and he likes that best of all.)

The Polteageist has the aura of old and classy, and yet also has an impish, mischievous streak, sometimes trying to trick Chesterfield into drinking from it. The Doctor approves of this jape. Although he really can't be having with any of them, of course, Pokémon OR companions. Things were much simpler when it was just him and Susan.

(He secretly lets the Persian on his bed at night. Barbara pretends she doesn't know, and discreetly brushes the fur off his coat.)

Second Doctor

Chatot

Neither of them will shut the fuck up. This includes when the recorder comes out, and the Chatot tries to harmonise. Zoe finds it charming, and often talks to it, but Jamie finds it noisy and obnoxious. He swore at it in Scots once, but it repeated it to the Doctor, and so Jamie got a row.

It almost gets eaten by a Cyber-mat on Telos, though, and Jamie beats the offending Cyber-mat to death with a brick with surprising verve and venom. After that, he and the Chatot take great delight in lovingly insulting each other.

After the War Games, and the arrival of the Time Lords, the Doctor is forced to part with it. It goes with Jamie, and lives out its days screaming Scots insults at English soldiers in the Highlands, and sometimes singing strange, whistling tunes that Jamie feels he heard somewhere before.

Third Doctor

Aegislash

Porygon Z

The Doctor trained up the Aegislash with the express aim of being able to fence the Master if needed, because he thought it would be more stylish. He's right, too, but Liz swore to herself that she'd rather die than admit that out loud. Of course, the Master then did exactly the same thing, but with a shiny Aegislash. The Doctor sulked for days.

She loved creating the Porygon with him, though (a synthetic Pokémon! What an incredible scientific creation), and she was the one to train it up to a Porygon Z. When Jo comes along, she loves the Porygon Z with her whole heart and soul, but it's always skittish around her clumsy ways. Eventually, they go back to UNIT for a visit, and it leaves to be with Liz. Probably best for everyone.

It makes Jo sad, though. It feels like maybe it was her fault - if she could have befriended it properly, could have been less ditzy, less her, then maybe it would have been happy. The Doctor tells her it was simply better off with its first trainer, that she shouldn't blame herself, but she can't help it. It eats at her, until one evening she's sitting in her room moping and feels a nudge, and when she looks down the Aegislash is gazing up at her, its clumsy sword body incapable of offering proper comfort yet trying anyway. It makes her laugh, touched beyond measure, and it locks eyes with her, spins its back to her, and morphs into defence form, a shield against the world all for her.

After that, she is best friends with it. It spends most of its time on their adventures leaping defensively between Jo and certain doom; the Doctor is only half joking when he tells her it's probably why she survives.

When she meets Cliff and falls in love, leaving the perils of space for the perils of social justice, it goes with her.

The next time the Doctor meets the Master, he uses Venusian aikido. It's more stylish than sword fighting, anyway.

Fourth Doctor

Psyduck

Beeheeyem

Alcremie

It's actually Sarah Jane who brings the Beeheeyem aboard, and Harry who brings the Psyduck; both are accidental acquisitions, with the former being responsible for a mystery that Sarah Jane was investigating and the latter being treated by Harry for a headache, and both just... follow these humans when they try to leave, and refuse to stop doing so even when they enter the TARDIS.

But you wouldn't know it. Beeheeyem and Psyduck both prove to be off-putting weirdos, and keep staring at people unsettlingly; Sarah has to keep her bedroom door locked shut to stop either from getting in after she woke up one morning to find both next to her bed, staring at her while she slept. She'd screamed so loud that Harry had come stumbling in still in his night shirt, blearily looking for an invading alien or something. He'd laughed when he realised, and shooed them out, and helped her install a lock.

And yet... the Doctor apparently enjoys staring unsettlingly back.

Sarah and Harry start keeping a secret spreadsheet; which Pokémon, for how long, who seems to win the staring contest. Sometimes they last for hours. It seems almost meditative. It causes deep bonds to form; fascinatingly, he even seems to understand Beeheeyem's weird finger flashing, which Sarah is fairly certain is unheard of.

The Alcremie was a deliberate acquisition, though. He does have a sweet tooth.

Fifth Doctor

Farfetchd

Hirsuian Voltorb

Tegan mocks him viciously for it, but he's a vain creature with eccentric and rigid aesthetic choices, and the Pokémon help with it. Farfetch'd is very good at accessorising with his celery. And Voltorb is the only thing that ever lets him relax - it is so much easier to play cricket with a ball that bowls itself at you! Nyssa and Tegan approve at first; the Doctor can be abrasive, and neither of them has any interest in cricket.

It also lets him play alone. After Adric, he locks himself into the TARDIS sports hall, and plays and plays and plays.

Sixth Doctor

Bruxish

Galarian Linoone

Eiscue

He bonds with the Bruxish instantly, love at first sight; they share the flashy coat, warning stripes to the world, and the smirking, vicious temperament. It takes Peri weeks to warm to it, and it snaps and strikes every time she gets near; until one day she doesn't move fast enough, and she discovers that the teeth that fully closed about the meat of her upper arm barely grazed across her skin, leaving no mark. It acts positively affronted when she announces it's not so bad after all; but she's no longer fooled.

The Linoone is, not to put too fine a point on it, a little shit. The Doctor spends half his time loudly decrying it as conniving and ungrateful; it waggles its tongue back, making an odd sniggering sound before stealing his socks and other items. But Peri sees him slipping it treats sometimes, sees the little ear scratches, sees the answering hand licks. Like Barbara before her, she pretends not to see.

The Eiscue is called Frobisher. The Doctor names it a companion.

Seventh Doctor

Mimikyu

Mr Rime

Liepard

Ace wonders afterwards, in the years to come, how she didn't see the lies, the manipulation, the depths of his scheming sooner; it was right there in the Doctor's Pokémon, if she'd cared to look. Except she did, actually - that's the worst part, in a way. She did know.

But she never thought it would apply to her. Not... like that. Not that personally.

And that's also down to the Pokémon, probably. The Mr Rime is too knowing in its gaze, a Psychic type that sees right through her; but whenever it sees her unhappy it twirls its cane and hat in an impression of the Doctor to make her laugh. The Liepard is vicious and deceptive, sneaky and shrewd, and yet it curls around her whenever she sits in the chair in her room, purring and rubbing against her. The Mimikyu is more obvious, admittedly - a little nightmare beast in a Pikachu costume, hiding its true nature under an unassuming mask - but, is that more the Doctor, or her?

Perhaps it's both.

Perhaps it's all true. He went too far, with Fenric. Even he knows he did. But like the Pokémon, he still loves her. She's both pawn and daughter to him; a playing piece to use, but also a companion to love. And he does use her, yes.

But he does love her, too.

(It takes too long to realise it. When she leaves, the Mimikyu and the Liepard come with her. The Mr Rime does not, the resemblance too much; and the Doctor understands.)

Eighth Doctor

Slowpoke

Cherrim

It's probably the difficult regeneration; he gets amnesia like humans get colds, the memories slipping away like sand through a fist and leaving him hollow, without an identity to fill the void. It's a lonely thing, amnesia. Oddly, though, it's the times that he does remember that feel the loneliest.

Odder still, it always feels so familiar.

But the Pokémon keep him sane. The Slowpoke is his constant friend, as forgetful as him, its vacant, constant state of mild confusion nonetheless living proof that even without the memories, he can still be him, whoever that may be. Amnesia is lonely, yes; but here is a creature going through the same thing, and ultimately, they are in it together at least.

The Cherrim is different. It cloaks itself often, hunkering down against the darkness of a non-existent storm, and he knows that sensation. But then the sun shines, and the Cherrim opens up into its delighted cheerful dance, and the Doctor thinks, yes. This too shall pass. And there is joy when it does.

War Doctor

Yveltal

It's wrong. He knows it's wrong.

He doesn't have any others. No family, no companions, no Pokémon. None left now; and if there were, he's about to sacrifice them anyway. Best to keep it simple.

He thinks of Ace. He thinks of Susan. He thinks of keeping it simple and of I went too far and of a thousand other things; Sarah Jane, and Barbara brushing his coat, and playing cricket endlessly with a Voltorb in lieu of thinking of anything at all, and if he doesn't do this wrong thing, this awful thing now, none of them will have ever lived.

On a broken planet at the end of existence, there are Dalek ships in the sky.

They are hidden by the unfurling wings of Yveltal.

Ninth Doctor

Trubbish

Cubone

He's a nine hundred year old alien and Rose is aware that she herself is a teenager who still can't quite get her brain to accept 'woman' instead of 'girl'; and yet, within minutes of meeting the Doctor, all she can see is a broken child.

He hides it, almost. The face he shows the world is definitely stern and moral and hardened. He's sharp tongued even while actually sympathising with abused and downtrodden aliens and young Welsh psychics. But his trauma responses are totally off, he's far too quick to risk his life, and the day he has her at gun point, telling her to move so he can murder a Dalek and she says no, he shatters at her feet like glass.

But it's in his Pokémon too. The Trubbish is a surprise, until she thinks about it - you don't need to know him for more than... oh, five minutes tops before you realise that he will see the value and worth of every lifeform to exist, even - especially - ones that others don't. It's the Trubbish, it's the Gelth, it's a lonely Slitheen fugitive, a bio-engineered woman in a machine; for lack of a better word, the Doctor sees humanity even where you couldn't imagine it.

The Cubone weeps, mourning a loss it simply cannot heal alone. Rose catches them sometimes, sitting in the console room at 'night', the Cubone on the Doctor's lap and both crying silently as they stare at things she cannot see.

The day it evolves is a turning point. She sees the cracks begin to seal.

Tenth Doctor

Luvdisc

Goodra

Wobbuffet

Oricorio (pom pom)

He gets the Luvdisc for Rose, of course.

It's a silly thing, caught from the beach on Woman Wept; it was there, and the locals told them it was good luck, and it had made her eyes light up and he'd thought in that moment that he'd do anything to see that look in her eyes.

And then he loses Rose, and the grief leaves him breathless. There are days he cannot get his lungs to move quite right, and he lies in bed with his hands on his hearts, trying to find a stable pace to breathe. He knows he has to move on. Rose showed him that.

(He cannot even look at the Luvdisc now.)

So he's back to work, and then there's Martha; clever, wonderful Martha, quick witted and whip-smart and resourceful. She's the one who brings the Goodra aboard, actually. It was being neglected by its trainer, fed and trained and put to battle but never given the affection the species needs, and he'd beamed and said it was a good job it had her, then.

Fuck, he was so stupid with Martha. So blinded by his own grief, so trapped in his own head, so stupid. It was all right in front of him. But he'd been so alone for so long, had believed himself so unworthy, and then Rose came along and he'd dared to believe he could be loved, could be happy, could be so unfathomably lucky, and then suddenly it was gone, and he simply couldn't conceive of anyone else seeing what Rose saw.

The guilt had struck right in the solar plexus as Martha spelled out her departure. But his admiration for her, for her strength of character, could not possibly have been higher. She took the Goodra; he expected that.

But she also took the Luvdisc. "It deserves better, too," she told him, with a gentleness he didn't deserve.

The Wobbuffet came the day he re-met Donna. It was unclear why Kovarian had it, but as soon as they reunited, miming a conversation through two windows on opposite sides of a room, the Wobbuffet had slowly rotated to stare at each of them, transfixed. By the time the Doctor and Donna had made it into the same window basket, the Wobbuffet was somehow also there. After that, it came with them.

Between the three of them, they have a single braincell. On some days, it appears none of them are using it. But the Wobbuffet proves extremely useful, especially when protecting Donna from giant Beedrills.

They get the Oricorio as a giveaway from Ood Operations at the corporate open day; it keeps dancing to the Ood Song. It also hype dances every time Donna goes shopping, so she falls in love.

He leaves her with both in the end. If he can't be with her, at least they can.

Eleventh Doctor

Rowlet

Smoochum

Drifloon

Amy gets him the Rowlet. She says they have the same stupid dress sense, so maybe they can cry for help together. The Doctor is delighted, and takes great care of Rowlet's little bow tie.

The Drifloon, though, he tries not to think about. He's aware that he's seeing a lot of his companions and his wife as children. He's aware that it's weird, okay? He knows. He's also heard the old wives tale of Drifloons wanting to steal children, and how they Just Know who to follow sometimes to make that happen. But that way madness lies, so... don't think about it? Don't even think about it. Old wives tale. Anyway, it's too light to actually carry off a child, it's fine.

The Smoochum is on the nose, though. Of course it's River who gets it for him. "I thought a baby Pokémon would suit you," she coos. "See you next time, sweetie! Smooches!"

He wants to kill her.

Twelfth Doctor

Noctowl

Metagross

As ever, the Noctowl is Clara's idea. She tells him it looks like him. He hisses back that she's trying to look like a Gardevoir, but it's ineffective and stupidly mean and then the Noctowl follows him anyway. He catches sight of them in a mirror, and is even more annoyed when he realises she's right - the damn thing is even mirroring his expressions.

But the Metagross is his. It's clever, is the thing - four brains mean it's practically a super computer, and it's vicious in a way he relates to, and also, it has a St Andrews Cross over its face that makes him think of the accent that came with this face.

Bill asks him about that once.

"Lots of planets have a Scotland," he says.

Thirteenth Doctor

Stufful

Altaria

Maushold

She was too closed off last time, she thinks. She can tell; she hasn't been this clingy, this desperate for companionship, in a long time. And it's not a conscious choice, of course, that was more Romana's thing, but... Sometimes, the regenerations give you what you need.

That's how she gets the Stufful, a cuddly creature that just wants love. It's also how the Maushold evolves, she's pretty sure - it happens not long after Ryan calls Graham his Granddad, and the Doctor feels like her hearts could burst, she's so happy for them, and then when she goes to feed the Pokémon there are too many mice gazing up at her.

But the Altaria evolves not long after she and Yaz... realise.

She's not surprised. Attachment terrifies her now. She can't even think about Rose, about the Luvdisc, about Donna, about River. She's terrified of losing Yaz like that.

The Altaria sails serenely up in the sky, high and carefree, and the Doctor dreams of flying.

Fourteenth Doctor

Wishiwashi

Oricorio (sensu)

Klefi

The Wishiwashi happens immediately. He has rarely identified with something more; it battles with its armour, all the bodies and souls of its companions, and it uses them up until they're all gone and what's left is weak and useless and weeping at the horror of the world -

And then Donna's back, and she remembers. Fuck, she remembers. He's dreamed and dreamed and here it is.

The Oricorio is different now. It once flapped yellow wings like pom poms, joy and delight. Now lilac feathers like fans dance a mournful dance, a reminder of all that's lost. And yet...

Donna remembers.

"You're staggering, Doctor," she whispers. "Come home."

And finally... he does.

It can't be forever. He'll outlive them all, eventually. He knows this. But for now, this is what he needs.

A home with a family. His best friend, platonic soulmate, safe and sound; Wilf and the moles out the back; Mel at his side, finding their feet together; his vibrant and beautiful niece, the new and perfect owner of the old Wobbuffet.

The night he moves into the house that is now his, he takes out the keys to his new home, and discovers they are harbouring a tiny Klefki.

Fifteenth Doctor

Gardevoir (male)

Oricorio (baile)

It's a brand new life, a brand new universe, full of possibilities and wonder and so much to explore, and the Doctor does not know where to begin.

He brought one thing from his bi-generated self. The Oricorio is much happier now, its feathers a fabulous red and ready to party. The night he meets Ruby in the club it's him and the Oricorio in the press of bodies, somehow making space as they twirl round and round on the dark dancefloor, feathers and kilt flaring around them both in the heat and euphoria of the moment.

The Gardevoir was Rogue's. He'd been on Rogue's spaceship, and had immediately started dancing to Kylie, much to the Doctor's amusement and Rogue's irritation. Afterwards, the Doctor hadn't been able to leave him. Hadn't wanted to - the Gardevoir is gloriously stylish, with a sort of gender-bending aesthetic that the Doctor adores these days.

And he remembers. "It deserves better too," Martha had told him once, several lifetimes ago. He does not want to repeat those mistakes.

He keeps the Gardevoir, and the Oricorio too; and he chooses to remember what he once tried to forget.

[wifelivvyx]

I love your Weasley fics they’re so cute and mischievous. Could you do George and muggle reader after hogwarts? Maybe she just thinks he’s a magician at first or something whatever you want it to be. I love the trope 🤷‍♀️ if it’s already been done then ty in advance :)

Oh, I love this idea! Imagine Muggle!Reader just thinking George is some next-level street magician, completely unaware that he's actually using real magic.

Like, she sees him pull something impossible, and he just winks and goes, "Trade secret, love."

Meanwhile, Fred is losing his mind in the background because George is absolutely not correcting her HELPP

A Magician and a Muggle

George Weasley x Muggle!Reader

You had always liked magic tricks.

Sleight of hand, card tricks, disappearing acts - you could spend hours watching street magicians pull off impossible feats with nothing but a smirk and a flourish.

Which was probably why you found yourself completely enchanted by George Weasley.

You weren’t sure how you met him, exactly. One minute, you were sitting in a coffee shop, reading a book. The next, some tall, freckled guy with a ridiculous grin had made your spoon disappear right off your saucer.

“I - what?” You blinked.

George waggled his eyebrows. “Impressive, yeah?”

You frowned. “Okay, but where is it?”

He held up his hands, empty. “That, my dear, is the question.”

You gave him a suspicious look before turning to check your seat, the floor, even your pockets. Nothing.

By the time you turned back, he was twirling the spoon between his fingers like it had been there the whole time.

You stared. “Okay, how?”

He winked. “Trade secret.”

ϑ𐑞

You had never met a magician like George.

He was charming, mischievous, and had the most insane tricks you had ever seen.

Like the time he turned your tea into hot chocolate mid-sip. Or when he made a full deck of cards shuffle themselves through the air. Or - your personal favorite - the time he conjured a bouquet of flowers out of thin air when you offhandedly mentioned liking lilies.

“I know how most magic tricks work,” you had huffed one evening as he flicked his wand (or, as he called it, his ‘special magician’s wand’) and made the sugar cubes levitate into your coffee. “But this? This is some next-level stuff.”

George leaned on his elbow, grinning. “Are you saying I’m better than all those other magicians?”

“I’m saying I have no idea how you’re doing this,” you corrected, watching the sugar cubes gently plop into your cup. “It’s freakishly good.”

Fred - whom you had only recently met - let out a choked laugh from across the table.

You raised a brow. “What?”

George waved a hand. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous.”

Fred spluttered. “Jealous - ? George, you absolute menace-”

George coughed loudly, kicking his brother under the table. “As I was saying! Some things are best left a mystery, yeah?”

You eyed him. “You’re hiding something.”

He smirked. “Oh, loads of things, love.”

Fred groaned.

ϑ𐑞...

It all came to a head one afternoon when you casually walked into George’s flat and found his teacup floating in mid-air.

You froze.

George - who had been mid-sip - looked at you, eyes wide. Slowly, carefully, he lowered the cup back onto the table.

“…Hi.”

You stared.

He cleared his throat. “So, funny thing-”

“You’re an actual wizard?!”

George winced. “Okay, yes, but in my defense, you never asked if it was real magic-”

“BECAUSE THAT’S NOT A NORMAL THING TO ASK, GEORGE!”

Fred, standing in the doorway, wheezed. “She thought you were a magician, you prat-”

“I am a magician!” George huffed. “Just… a real one.”

You ran a hand down your face. “I - I can’t believe this.”

George gave you a hopeful smile. “So… still fancy me, or did the whole ‘actual wizard’ thing ruin my charm?”

You stared at him.

Then, after a long pause, you sighed.

“You owe me an explanation,” you muttered.

George beamed. “Absolutely. But first-” He flicked his wand, and a chocolate bar appeared in his hand. He handed it to you with a wink.

“Trick or treat?”

You snatched it from him with a glare.

Fred collapsed onto the floor laughing.

[gamergirlwrites]

Title: Expecting

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Female!Reader

Synopsis: You invite Leon over to tell him some news.

CW: mention of pregnancy

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you waited for Leon. He was on his way to you, possibly panicked in the same way you were. He didn't know yet, but you'd have to tell him. Leon had been gone for long enough that you were pretty sure that he could take one look at you and figure out what this was all about. He had left you months ago without much word, but the fetus growing inside of you was definitely his. You hadn't slept with anybody else, not when you were still holding out for a change of heart.

"(Y/n), open up. It's Leon!" He called out over a couple of quick knocks. You took a deep breath to steady your heart, but it wasn't much use. You were still absolutely freaking out when you opened the door to see him.

Leon looked good. He had never showed up to your door looking bad, but this was a nice change from the usual suit you saw him in. The leather jacket reminded you of the guys you had always been too scared to date in college. His chest was practically straining against his shirt, as were the muscle in his legs with his jeans. You were sure that a big part of his affect on you was hormonal, but all you wanted to do was climb him like a tree.

"Come in, and you'll probably want to sit down for this," you warned. Leon seemed skeptical, but still did as you said. "Okay, so, um, I'm pregnant."

"I've been gone for a long time," Leon said. He didn't seem upset, which was a good thing. However, you noticed that he didn't exactly seem happy either.

"There hasn't been anybody else in almost a year, so I think it's safe to assume that you're the father," you told him. You didn't mean to sound so short with him, but you couldn't help it. "I know that you're not the relationship type, so I don't expect anything special. I just wanted to let you know, give you that option."

"I won't just leave you to raise our baby by yourself. I've been staying in Colorado, but it's definitely time that I come back to DC again. There will always be secrets, but if you give me a chance I won't throw it away," Leon promised you.

"Alright, I like the sound of you being around more. And Colorado, seriously? Not even a phone call." You shoved his shoulder back, and Leon just flopped back against your couch. You turned away to hide the evidence of your amusement. Everything considered, Leon always knew how to make you laugh.

"Do you know the sex yet? If you'd let me, I would love to help with the name and some other stuff. I can put the nursery together here, I'm pretty capable with my hands." You paused for a moment as you listened to Leon. He was offering himself up, that much was obvious. The man who had run at the first sight of feelings before was openly asking for involvement.

"A girl, and some help with the name would be great. I've been driving myself crazy trying to come up with one. I know it's short notice, but I've got a doctor's appointment tomorrow if you wanted to join me?" You tried not to sound too hopeful, but Leon didn't hide his excitement at your invitation at all.

[lv9su]

Everything inside me is stone.

Levi Ackerman x reader

I’ve wanted to write for him for so long this man is so fine💆🏾‍♀️ also this is based on the earlier seasons of aot

Age gap!!! Slightly toxic.. Angst, Forbidden Love (sorta) lots of sexual tension, always use of y/n, Levi being stubborn and you being stubborn back. 💋

~

Right now you weren’t in a.. strange predicament. Were you on top of Eren on the training grounds? Yes, but not in the way you might think. Why? Because you paired up for sparring, and you were very annoyed before this session started.

Let’s take it back to the reason why. The last conversation you had before everyone met for training. Maybe the word argument would be more fitted.

“Why do you keep on pushing me away?” You asked, getting frustrated at the sight of Levi getting out of the bed, cleaning the room you two had left a mess and finding clothes to get dressed. But you were having none of it.

“I’m not pushing you away, I’m protecting you.” Levi said, his back turned to you.

“Yes you are!? You know I can protect myself? You don’t need to isolate yourself from me.” Your voice began raising.

“I’m not the right person for you y/n. Since you’re so smart you should understand the risks of us! Whatever this is.” He turned around, pointing his finger between the both of you. He was self sabotaging because he felt you could do better than an older emotionally scarred man who just so happens to be the leader of your squad.

You felt the anger rise inside, and sure you could’ve screamed and yelled in his dumb face for saying what he said. Instead you were so angry tears pooled in your eyes, and you tried to hide it. Messily putting on your clothes you mumbled enough for him, to aggravated to speak normally.

“Fine.” You pulled on your white jeans.

“Whatever.” You began buttoning up your shirt.

“Just fuck off.” You hissed as his hands reached to help you button up since you being frantic.

You put on your socks and boots, the rest of your uniform in your room. “Leave me alone.”

He knew he’d fucked up. But seeing tears in your eyes, and your bottom lip quivering, he realised that was something he never wanted to see.

But why? It was so wrong. But when it was just the two of you it was so right.

It all started one drunken night three months ago began a kind of relationship you would’ve never ever expected to happen with Levi. Ackerman. Your. Captain.

I mean sure you always found him attractive, and he seemed to tolerate you more than anyone else in your scout group. He definitely did call you a Brat pretty much every day, but he didn’t ever insult you. Everyone else figured it was just favouritism when he’d tell everyone to fuck off and figure out their own shit except when it came to you he spoke in a normal tone. Needed help with the gear? He’d be behind you, guiding your arms and showing you what to do. Wanted to spar with him? He’d teach you new moves and would be very physical but not enough to hurt you, just for the sake of touch. You were thirsty? He’d make tea for the both of you. And so on.

You pretended to be oblivious to all of this, but in your mind you couldn’t help but daydream and zone out imagining what it’d be like with him.

“Thinking about the captain” Sasha nudged your arm as your hand rested on your face. She giggled as she sipped her alcoholic beverage. Yes, would absolutely were.

“No!!!! Shut up.” You slightly chuckled and rolled your eyes, as you began drinking a little more.

“Y’know y/n, if you change your mind and want someone your own age im your perfect match.” Jean winked at you, slurring his words and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“You need to sit down.” You grinned at the sight, standing up and sitting him down where you were sat.

You walked out of the tavern and sat outside in the dark, kissed by the moonlight and wrapped around the late night breeze of the summer. Everyone was here celebrating the recent mission, less people killed by titans and an increase in the titans being killed. That’s what it’s all about right? Until the next mission there’d most likely be some intense training so the plan was to try and have some fun while you still could.

“I’m surprised you’re with that lanky piece of shit. Out of everyone.” You heard from behind, not needing to look behind since you recognised the voice right away. He sat beside you, and you hummed questioningly.

“Tch don’t play dumb brat. Jean. The lanky horse-” you laughed and cut him off.

“I’m not with Jean. And it seems, someone was stalking me.” You smirk, speaking with the liquid confidence.

“I’m taking you back to headquarters. You’ve had too much to drink.” He rolled his eyes at you.

When you got back, one thing led to another and the next morning you were tangled in his sheets naked. Before you woke he left to make tea, except you woke while he was gone and assumed he’d just left. So you did too. And when he saw you were gone from his room he realised you might’ve thought it was a mistake. But he couldn’t blame you if you did.. he was older, there was a pretty big power dynamic and he came to the conclusion that is was for the good that he was alone. If he formed an emotional attachment there was always the chance he could lose you.

But you ignoring him? He didn’t like that. He tolerated 1 day of being ignored by you before he hollered you into his office and well.. let’s just say this time you were both sober when you did it.

After that you both said that it wouldn’t continue.. but it did. More often than not. You had fucked in his office, his room, your room, the stables, in the shower, in the forest and empty rooms. But as much as there was lust, there was sweet moments that were dates in disguise. Long talks, walks, rides, play fights, sparring in feilds and then having a picnic, slow dances and admiration. But hey what was more romantic than slaying titans together.

Back in the present.

“Cmon y/n, are you even trying?” Eren mocked as the two of you sparred, except you were thinking about the argument you’d had with him this morning.

So after a swift kick to the legs - which Levi taught you how to do - dropping him to the floor within seconds. And in that amount of time you’d began throwing punch after punch after punch. Poor eren. Too bad he underestimated you at a time like this.

“OKAY MISSY!!” Hange shouted in a high pitched voice as she grabbed the back of your arms and pulled you off of him. “You doin’ okay up there sweets?” She raised a brow moving closer to your face and tapping your head. You nodded and she rubbed your arm before you walked away.

Levi watched you the whole entire time.

Hange walked back over to where they sat. “You outta go get your girl short stack.” She smirked.

He went silent for a second, unsure of how to respond “what’re you talking about four eyes.”

“Oh don’t play dumb. I see that look in your eyes, I know you put up this cold front but seems as though she’s melting it down.” She readjusted her glasses “a little young but hmph! I get it. Better go get her before someone else does.”

“Tch. Shut up.” he abruptly stood up and followed in your footsteps.

Eventually catching up as he found you walking in the hq. “I told you to leave me alone” you frowned.

“I’m the one who gives orders around here brat.”

“Go boss around someone else then” you went to walk away and he grabbed your hand.

“No. You’re gonna stay and listen to me.” He began to get annoyed now. “And drop the attitude brat. You know i care, probably too much so quit acting like I don’t. I shouldn’t have pushed you away but I was trying to do what’s best for you. If I keep you to myself you don’t get a chance with any other guy your age.”

“But that’s my decision Levi, and I don’t want any other guy. I want you.” You interrupted, looking into his eyes. He now grabbed your face, and leaned closer “I didn’t say you could talk.” He then glided his thumb over your lower lip.

“It’s dangerous to live in a world like this.” Her brows lifted then caressed your jaw.

“I don’t care about that.” You batted your eyelashes up at him and he kissed you.

~

[meiguicha]

In The Mirror of Your Eyes (My Love, My Life)

Mydei x Reader - Reincarnation AU

You know you don't possess him, so you can only let him go. Yet still, he is your love and your life.

Original

cw: 3.1 spoilers, major character illness, cussing, Adon is the most carnally desired unreliable narrator, hyv hurt me so now no one in this au deserves to be happy

//i hate you hyv i hate you. my husband who deserves to NOT go to war has left for the war. adon's only emotions are mildly angry, angry and depressed angry i fear, don't listen to him. trust i will give my husband what he deserves (romcom where the only conflict is being idiots)

Adon hates your husband. 

Your assistant and vice-chief accountant hates his crown prince more than anything on this damned planet. He hates him more than he hates Eryx who does nothing but make his job harder, more than his nosy neighbour who keeps tossing their scraps into his bin, and more than the gaggle of hags Okhema has the gall to call the Council of Elders. 

Ever since Mydei tailed after your every step that very day, if it's unrelated to work,  all he’s ever heard from you has something to do with him. And every time he comes in to talk to you, all he gets is a sidelong glance and a vibe that he really isn’t welcome right now. 

Don’t even get him started on the absolute bullshit he heard during the aftermath when he barged into your office demanding to see you, he’s pretty sure he’s heard noises the human mouth should not be making that day. 

But right now, he hates your husband for not being here when you clearly needed him most. 

On the day that grey haired weirdo and the black haired man started running around the palace, you who had finally moved past what for the longest time seemed to be a perpetual fatigue, suddenly lost your grip on your basket. Adon could only watch, perhaps more dumbfounded and concerned than any other possible emotion, as scrolls tumbled out, your knees that which always remained such a strong pillar in the face of challenge gave out on you. Never mind that his own hands were busy with a basket of his own, sheer panic filled his veins when he saw your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

If he were but a second later, they tell him, your skull would have cracked open. 

Slowly, carefully, more and more of your duties have now been handed off to him. Golgos and Beroe have started to take on his previous responsibilities, all the while you remain in your office, watching over his work as you drift amidst consciousness. 

Lady Aglaea was informed of your condition and though you’ve been sent to healer after healer, priest after priest, it appears that your body was simply giving up. Recovery was but a chance, one so slim only a needle could pass through.

The news does not come lightly, but stubborn as you are, every morning he still finds you in your office. Stubbornly, you remain at your chair and stubbornly, a scroll will be open on your desk. Every evening, when he is able, your stupid husband comes to retrieve you and you, stubbornly, will act as if you were all fine and well. 

At least, that’s what you did until you could no longer hide the toil that plague took on your form. Yet you would not tell the one person you trusted most. 

A minor illness, you said. Something that kept you weak but not enough that it would doom you. 

It was to keep him focused on what needed to be done, nothing to fret over. 

Adon makes the move to your office not long after. It's too small for the both of you and he hates how closed in it feels, he wonders how you managed to work so comfortably when you kept company with Mydei. 

He remembers pointing a calloused finger at the protrusion on your sash, a leather bound hilt with an engraving on the pommel sticking out from rosy fabric. It was a dagger, clearly so. But it was only then that he noticed its existence. “When did you start carrying that?”

“Hm?” With a hum, you lolled  your head towards his direction, eyes still closed and voice soft, “Carry what?”

Brushing his hand against the handle, your hand moved at an unnatural speed, the cold of your palm permeating his skin and bone so much so that the very contact ripped a flinch from him as he barely managed a response. “That.”

You didn’t move from your stance, and it took a tentative retreat for your shoulders to relax once more. An amused huff escaped your lips, and though you kept your eyes closed, your thumb traced over the engraving on the hilt. Your very words dripped with sickly fondness, even apart you would talk of him so fondly.

“I’m surprised you can’t tell, hasn’t the proof of my love’s adoration for me been quite obvious?”

“Oh fuck me gently with the lance of fury.” The youth couldn’t help the groan that leaves his mouth, nor the roll of his eyes, not when you would take every opportunity to spew your bullshit. 

You tutted, as if scolding a child, “Language Adon.”

He rolled his eyes again, any harder and he’s certain he’ll be able to look into his brain one day. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say.”

The laugh that left your lips was sweet, so delighted by the chance to talk about your idiot husband that even getting to mention him is more than enough to lift your spirits. But it was still too soft, and he hated him then too, for taking away your barking laughter like this.

Tucking the dagger further into your sash, as though to keep it ever closer, a laboured breath escaped your lungs and only then did you call for him, “Wake me up when he comes, okay?”

This assistant of yours, who hates your husband more than ever, averted his gaze. The words on the scroll were blurring together and he didn’t know why. He’s never been allergic to dust, so why did his eyes water up so? Rubbing at his eyes, all he found was salty anger. 

He bit his tongue. Metallic ichor filled his mouth and stained his teeth, he bit his tongue. 

“Yeah, go back to sleep, you old bag.”

Adon realised, belatedly while your breaths were all that filled his ears and the rise of your chest was in the corners of his vision, that you never told your husband. 

Lord Phainon fails the trial of strife some time after this. The hot baths are cranked to the highest heat and your– his– department deals with the compensation some of the victims demand. There is word of his prince seeking counsel from his fellow Kremnoans.

The grey haired weirdo and their companion go off and come back with that grove scholar. Ladies Tribios appear to be missing a member. Lord Phainon and his gaggle of merry fools are sent to the Castrum Kremnos, and his prince returns a god. 

Adon could care less, his days are still filled with paperwork and making sure you don’t keel over and die on the side of the road. 

The night of your husband’s return and the triumph over something he can’t be bothered to know, you send him a message in the dead of rest. He sets a reminder to follow through the daybreak of. 

There’s something about your home that he can’t quite put his finger on. 

Chalices of similar craftsmanship sit atop a shelf, a neat stack of recipes is placed by a vase of roses, books of poetry and history arranged on a shelf by the porch. He even notices a pair of chimera carvings, one bearing a red mane and another with a deep green, their faces pressed together side by side. 

It's eerily domestic, and for all his years of knowing you, it's odd seeing it now so filled with the presence of another.

When he does locate your bedroom, he finds you encased in a woven blanket, a soft pink that seemed to dampen your already sallow features. Curled up in a too big bed, his eyes drift to the chimera plush in your arms, red mane again. There’s a cup of water on the bedside table, a letter trapped beneath a plate of soft honeycakes. 

He realises then what it is. Everything you had, and everything you will ever be, somehow revolves around him. Yet you’re alone here, you’re alone surrounded by his presence when he should be with you. 

He hates him more for this.

There is no smile that greets him, no cutting remark on his expression, all he gets from you is an urge to come closer. 

He pushes past a sheer curtain, the light sifting through the fabric as he enters your bedroom. His steps are heavy, dragging along the floor like lead. It suddenly feels too personal, too intimate. He’s never been in here before, and though only the two of you inhabit this small building, he feels unwelcome despite your gaze. 

No matter, he’s felt this way countless times, in this damned city, under the looks of people cruller than you could ever be. 

The first sentence out of your mouth wouldn’t be considered normal if it were anyone else, a morbid greeting that would put anyone off. 

“Adon, what do you think the afterlife is like?”

You know he’s never put much thought into useless things like this. He simply huffs, “Don’t know, don’t care. As long as Eryx isn’t where I am, I’m happy.”

“That sounds like you, I’m sure your personal paradise would be jabbing him with a dull spear while he begs you to stop.” Your eyes crinkle together, the fact that you can still picture something like that so clearly only mildly takes the edge off his bones. “I hope it's nice, I’d quite like to spend the rest of my days doing nothing but weaving and thinking of him.”

“Love brained idiot, it's not like you’ll actually die from this,” Scoffing, he covertly closes the curtains, ties the ends to frame the entryway the way you like it. Somehow, his fingers struggle with something as simple as this. 

You won’t die. You can’t die. That’s not fair, this disgusting world can’t take you away like this. You deserve more dignity, you deserve to die in your bed grey haired and wrinkly, not like this, not so soon. 

“We’ll all die one day, and if Lord Phainon is willing, maybe I’ll be waiting to catch sight of him once more.”

His brows knit together, and you chide at him lest he gets prematurely wrinkly. He moves to pull a chair out regardless of his doubt but you shake your head, reaching for his hand as the tips of your fingers prod into his palm. He only watches, can only watch as you pull out that damned dagger from the depths of your form. The light of the world bearing titan’s gift reveals its visage to him in its entirety, but he’s not too focused on that more than he’s worried on how much strain is placed on your hands.

A scoff escapes him, eyes narrowed as you push the weapon onto him. “What the hell are you–?!”

“Adon, did I tell you what this knife means?”

He doesn’t respond. Truth be told, he only half knows. He’s seen you use it to cut open fruit, wiped clean to slice open letters, used for nothing so noble that its appearance seems to call for. 

But Adon hates looking at that stupid thing, he hates that even now you keep it so cherished when the man who gave it to you has betrayed you so. How can you keep such a damning item on you? If it were him, he would have thrown it into the black tide a long time ago. 

Weighty in his hands, the warmth from your body just barely warms the cold weapon. Its sheathed, rose vines wrap around it in twines of gold or brass (he doesn’t know, he can’t quite focus on something as useless as that when faced with your trembling hands). Even the engraving bears a rose, a blood red crystal the heart of the bloom, and he hates it even more. A flower born of blood and love, his mother told him once, petals stained by the life of a fleeing lover as proof of their eternal love. He hates it, he hated it then he hates it now. Who would be so stupid to spill blood for something as fragile as love? 

Loyalty made more sense, but love? 

“Yeah, your stupid idiot husband gave that to you instead of literally anything else.” Rolling his eyes, he struggles to keep the spite in his voice mild. 

You laugh at this, the ghost of that barking humour just barely clinging to the dregs of your voice. It's but a humoured breath now, and yet still you strain yourself to speak, “Can you keep it for me? Please.”

The breath that once resided in his lungs seems to evacuate the moment your words leave your pale lips. 

“What are you talking about? Are you going senile now?”

“I told Lady Castorice that when the time comes, I want her to put me to rest, and you know I have no one else to give all this to.”

Your face looked so peaceful when you said that, more a corpse at rest than a living breathing mortal. The light bathed you in its otherworldly grace, and from how frail you’ve gotten, Adon worries that you were more than ready to be whisked away into Thanatos’ embrace at that very moment. 

All he can do is sneer, twist his face in rage to keep that traitorous emotion sealed in his eyes. “Have you gone mad? You’ll never come back if she takes you!”

“Adon.”

“You….” He can’t find the words to yell at you, why can’t he find the words now of all times? 

You have to know, you can’t not know! How can one man make you so weak?! You’re not a pining damsel in a shitty romance novel! You’re the chief accountant, you bear authority rivalling kings! You’re more than that idiotic foolish dimwitted man’s lover!

The words never come to him, and all he can do is sneer at your placated expression, “You’re so stupid! How can you throw away your life just because your stupid husband is leaving you?!”

“Adon,” Your call for him is ignored. 

He’s all too aware that he must resemble a petulant child now but he could care less. He’d rather piss off Daros than listen right now. “No! I’m not taking it!” 

He wants to keep yelling at you, even if getting through that thick skull of yours is but a far flung dream. You wouldn’t listen to him, he knows, but the thought of telling you that you shouldn’t have tied yourself so intricately to someone like Mydei is all that lingers on his mind. 

Yet his words die in his throat, they couldn’t possibly continue on, not in front of you. 

Your cold hands wrap around his, he can’t feel the scars on your palms anymore. They’re so soft now, even your nails have grown longer. 

“Adon, this dagger was a promise.”

The bitter smile on your lips is stained by the blood that stains them, even as you choke and vomit these disgusting thoughts that you should have never known, he doesn’t pull away. No matter, you don’t let him keep what’s left of your will anyways. “But fate is cruel, and sometimes we can’t fight against what we’re destined to become.”

“All my lives were never meant to be anything more than steps to his true home, and mortal lives like mine mean nothing if it means the safety and prosperity of Amphoreus.”

“It doesn’t matter how much I love him, my love cannot keep him away from his destiny.”

Shaking your head, it is as if what you speak is nothing but objective fact. You no longer pick at your nails, opting to run the pads of your fingers over rings that never had a place on those hands of yours years ago. More engraved roses, he hates the flower more. 

“I don’t know whether I’ll live through this, and if I don’t, you’ll get everything, okay?” A ghost of a sigh is all you manage, all you can. He can’t look at you, not when you’ve become so resigned to remain a footnote in someone else’s life. 

The weapon is still heavy in his hand, and when your eyes seem to glaze over, he surreptitiously places it on the bedside table, trapping the unopened letter beneath its weight. Half eaten honeycakes and a still full cup, at the very least your husband hadn’t deigned to let you starve in his traitorous absence. He hates the smell of it, but can’t bear to take it away when your gaze lingers. 

That knife is a promise. It must be some shitty promise if you’re so willing to hand it off to him the moment you can. 

His knees feel unsteady, he doesn’t know when your house got so dusty, or so cold. Blinking, his breath catches in his throat when he realises how shaky his voice is. This never happened before, not when his father cursed him for his career option, not when his siblings left one after the other to fight in something far bigger than themselves. 

They weren’t stupid like you or your husband, he realises. 

Adon can only look at you from the corner of his eyes, any more and he doesn’t know whether he’d be able to keep himself whole. He hates this feeling, hates that your stupid marriage and your stupid lack of communication is what toils him so much.

“How… how can you be so okay with this?” He ignores the way his words waver in the wind, the breeze carrying his sentiments more so than his own power. 

A breath escapes your lips, a whisper in the wind that erupts into barking laughter. The very sound of it demands his attention, how you cackle as if possessed by the spirits of strife. There could be no other explanation to this… This! Your very form would deem you frail and weak, yet here you sit imbued with the will of a thousand soldiers. 

“Do you think he just up and left?” Crinkling your eyes together, the point of your canines glints under the light as you bare your teeth to him in some cruel mixture of amusement and grief. “Adon, my love is not a cruel monster.”

The dregs of your mirth still cling to your words, and it is now he hates his healthy sight. Sorrowful dews cling to your lashes, yet they’re ephemeral in their transience, leaving nothing behind in your mournful seas. “I’m grateful he loved me, I’m happy he spent what time he had left as a man with me. But I’ll miss him, I’ll keep missing him even if I'm nothing but a passing thought to him.”

“Then come with me! If I have to go see him off then you should too! You’re his–”

–lover. 

You’re his lover. 

But he’s your love, your reason for life. He can’t even lie to himself, he knows you were barely living all those years ago, and he knows. He can call you stupid and foolish all he wants, but had you never met him, you would have been welcoming Thanatos’ embracing arms long before Nikador fell. 

He hates him. He hates him. How could he make you so dependent on him then leave you like this?

Why are you smiling like that? Why won’t you ever listen to him when it comes to things like this? Why are you always so stubborn and so willing to let yourself be left behind?!

All you can manage is a shaky breath, through your smile and your shrouding sorrow, yet despite it all you will still speak of him so fondly, “If I did, I don’t know whether I’ll be able to let him go.”

“If he ever comes back, don’t give it to him, okay? It would be better if he forgets me.”

“I thought about burying it with me but,” Another mirthless laugh leaves your lips, why do you only laugh at your troubles? You meet his eyes, and suddenly Adon simply feels the need to return it. “I don’t want someone digging up my grave to take it.”

“It's a good knife, and who knows? Maybe you pass it down to the next sucker as some heirloom.” You laugh, like a mother huffing about her will. 

He hates the way you feel about your own life, your own possessions. 

The dagger mocks him from the corners of his vision, your own form taunts him for his incompetence. He’s not in the mood to even indulge this stupid thought of yours. 

“You’re not thinking right. Go back to sleep.”

Wrapping the blanket around yourself tighter, all you do is rest your head against the pillow, closing your eyes as the corners of your lips raise again, “Maybe you’re right.” With a hum, it's as though to speak of him was to take another breath, to think of him to live another day, “At least I’ll see my love in my dreams again.”

Return to that field of flowers, a place where neither pain nor mortal troubles can reach you. Rest easy and lay your weary head, your Adon will come back soon.

Your assistant is grateful that if anything, he’s become intimately aware of your husband’s habits if only for the hours of his life he’s wasted listening to you yap on and on and on about this and that. He hates that he knows where to find him, it's useless information in his mind but information nonetheless. 

The prince– no, not anymore– Mydei only quirks a brow when he notices the youth’s presence. You must have told him that he’s taken on most of your responsibilities with your condition, and beneath the shade of awnings and taut silks, your vice chief only regards the man with an apathetic look.

“I’m surprised, did you sneak out from work just to come here?” His voice is clear, low but clear. 

There is little amity between them, he knows. A kind of pettiness only seen between children feuding over trivial matters. So even as he crosses his arms, he only scoffs, “Don’t get it twisted, boss gave me the day off and I thought I should see what the hullabaloo is all about.”

“I don’t care that you’ve become a god or whatever, and honestly I could care less about all this…” Waving a hand around the fanfare that is soon to await him, Adon’s features twist ever the more in his vexation.

“But I have a bone to pick with you.”

Amusement is all that greets him, and for once he isn’t sure whether this is true or false. Yet as he speaks, his steady lilt wavers at the mention of you, always has, always will. 

Mydei gestures for him to continue, “Go on then, let me hear what they’ve probably already told me.”

It takes a while for Adon to comprehend the insurmountable anger that seems far too much for what he thought he bore. He isn’t sure whether this emotion is his own anymore, it's more than anger, more than fiery fury that burns away at everything mortal. But under the light, under the day's radiance which illuminates all, he thinks of the promise you whispered to him before you closed your eyes. 

Brass or gold, he doesn’t know. But in his mind, the dagger looks so familiar when compared to its original owner, and an inkling of a thought reveals itself to him when the sheen of armor and sheath glisten beneath the light of day. 

Do you think of your husband’s gauntlets when you see that blade? Do the roses of bloody love remind you of your husband’s blood stained sinews? 

When you wrap your hands around the hilt of your dagger, whose chest do you wish to plunge it into?

“Remember them,” Through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, he snarls, “I want you to remember them for as long as you live.”

“When you think of your life here, remember their face and know that you left when they loved you most. Even if you’ve lost your humanity, remember it was them who loved you as a man.”

“And when the time comes that you may return, know that there is no next time.” 

Your husband’s tone is low, always low, but the hair on the back of his neck pricks at the warning bite in his words, “What are you implying?”

God, demigod, king, that doesn’t matter to him, regardless of what his instincts tell him. 

“What do you think I’m implying? Surely you’re smart enough to understand,” Mocking him, he merely narrows his eyes. 

And just like a fool, he quiets. Not so much a fool then. 

“Be there in my stead, don’t leave–” He wavers again, only with your name, always with your name. The sound is choked, strangled from lungs and stomach and yet it's just like yours. To speak of you is to take another breath. To think of you is to live another hour.  “--alone, not like this.”

“Like I need you to tell me that, I’m not stupid.”

The chief accountant of Okhema sneers, and though for many to meet a demigod’s eyes head on could only mean trouble, he could care less. 

The chief accountant once compared their husband’s eyes to brilliant stars, the great light through the skies that brings hope to all who see it. But he only sees the flames of strife, nothing so beautiful that he should wax poetry. 

He can barely bear to look at him anymore, your work is piling up and soon you’ll be chiding at his ears about getting buried in his own grudges. 

In a fashion of mock deference, he lowers his gaze and bids his prince farewell. He doesn’t care about the furrow on the man’s brow, he doesn’t care that he can clearly see the hurt and agony in his very being. He doesn’t care if he is being cruel or ruthless– 

“Guardian of Amphoreus, last king of Kremnos, son of Gorgo, may you triumph over death forever more.”

–because Adon hates the god of his unfamiliar homeland.  

He hates your husband, more than anything on this planet. 

And since you can’t bring yourself to hate him, then let him be the one to do so.

[captainlexaprosaveme]

hiii omg we share the exact same birthday and I’m also turning 23 this year (aries unite)! happy early birthday <3

i’d love to request "How do you always know exactly what I need?" "I pay attention." + Quinn Hughes

(p.s. I absolutely adored your new girl blurb :))

sick 4 u

533 words warnings: sickness/illness, cats? bad writing? not much pairing: Quinn Hughes x reader summary: sick fic with "How do you always know exactly what i need? "I pay attention" authors note: HIIII omg what a coinky dink we have the exact same bday!! happy early bday to u too and thank u for ur kind words! I hope you like this, i spent too long on it and it's a bit short sorry! tyy for requesting! requests are still open! masterlist

You felt like you had been hit by a truck. Your body ached, your throat was sore and scratchy, and the beginning of a sinus headache was slowly creeping on you. You groaned as you buried yourself further into your pillow, desperately trying to block out the sunlight peeking through your curtains.

You were pulled from sleep once again as your ringtone pierced your ears. Rolling over and blindly searching for your phone, you find it under your cat and rub the sleep from your weary eyes as you answer the incoming facetime call from Quinn. After dating for over a year, he knew you pretty well, he knew your tells and could tell the second you answered that you weren’t feeling good, but that didn’t stop you from trying to downplay how you were feeling.

“Morning, baby” he mumbles with a grin as he takes in your appearance, “You feeling okay?” he questions as he furrows his brow, mentally changing his plans for when he finally returns home from this roadie tonight.

“’M feelin’ fine” you rasp before clearing your throat and trying again, hoping to sound a bit more convincing but failing. He sees right through you, as always, and feigns a groan of exhaustion as he moves around his hotel room.

“How about I grab Chinese takeout before I come over,” he offers, knowing you would never want to cancel the tradition of going out after a win streak “’M too tired to go out tonight.”

You hide a grin as you agree, continuing to talk with your boyfriend about anything and everything as he packs and gets ready for his flight home, doing your best to muffle your coughing as you chat before finally saying goodbye until he arrives back in Vancouver.

Several hours later you are cuddled up on the couch with your cats, fresh out of the shower and regretting ever leaving the warm steam when you hear the sound of keys at your door. You look up just in time to see Quinn entering, a bag from your favorite Chinese place in his hands along with a bag from Walgreens.

“Whatcha got there” you question as he takes off his shoes and sets the bags on the counter. You sit up as Gertie darts off your lap and speeds to rub on Quinn’s legs.

He chooses not to reply as he walks towards you, pulling a bottle of your favorite Gatorade flavor out of the bags he brings to you. He joins you on the couch and pulls out a pack of cold medicine, some cough drops, and a few other essentials. You grin up at him as you wrap your arms around him, lightly kissing his cheek.

“How do you always know exactly what I need?” you question, and you grin up at him.

“I pay attention” he answers as he leans into you and presses his lips to your hairline.

You grin a soft smile up at him as he grabs you each a box of takeout before settling into the couch and suddenly, the ache in your bones and the pressure in your sinuses feels bearable, more tolerable with him by your side.  

[zeravmeta]

i think there's something to uroro's words when he's talking about "saving majiks" because when you look at how uroro had been acting within the first 3 chapters up until they reached the witch's association

he's actually pretty consistent on respecting majiks and their rules. he doesn't mind being acquired so much that he just doesn't want to work for the witch's association and uroro constantly mentions how majiks were the native species of the planet before humans

we're obviously too early into the story to say anything definitively but uroro absolutely has a connection to the world hater majik and i'm hinging my bets on it having to do with uroro's trial

uroro's trial is pretty simple: pierce his heart, made with the caveat that a woman cant pierce it. I think the symbolism of a heart here is important, because hearts are a pretty universal symbol of love and uroro's design is littered with them. As well, despite uroro calling himself the king majik, he's scientifically the amplification majik, which the first thing ichi does with is grow a forest that he accidentally destroyed, compared to the world hater majik, whose first appearance is destroying/warping a forest

the world hater majik is just what they call it because they don't have another name for it, but it's very much hiding what type of majik it actually is. I have my own bets on what it might be specifically, but I think that's it's gonna be the opposite of uroro's power, probably something like the degradation or even flat out death majik.

whatever connection between these two and in uroro's past, it made him, potentially the world loving majik, apathetic to the world

[nyxtickled]

Hey. I read your post about socal.

I have nothing more to say other than I'm proud to see you standing strong to that type of behavior and informing the community.

I, admittedly, grinned hard when you mentioned how he'll never have access to you again while on the plane with him. You are radiant, strong, and badass.

Keep being great, and I know everyone with some sense will stand with ya.

thank you so much friend 🥺💖 ya know, your third paragraph makes me realize there’s probably a lot of people who would love to have seen me say what really deserved to be said. so just for closure, below the cut is the last text i ever sent him :)

“you will never have access to me ever again.

and you should really know that i didn’t seek ANYONE out, although it’s useless to tell you that because you will say whatever you please. you did this to yourself. i provided nothing but honesty and receipts when i was approached. i made new friends, and you happened to tell a different story to every single one of them including myself. you’re pathological. i don’t know why anyone would do what you do or say what you say. it’s genuinely fucking terrifying.

all i wanted was to have all ties cut with you. finding out that you’ve compulsively created scenarios about all the women you were involved with, and for NO reason at all, while dragging each one along for a different motive and keeping each one under a different impression of how the other one felt? absolute fucking insanity.

you need to stop while you still can honestly. because everyone fucking knows that you’ve bullshitted every single one of us. T and Adi know that i have never once been jealous, vengeful, malicious, or insecure whatsoever about them. i now know that T was never trying to session with you due to being “jealous” over our tumblr videos. i also now know that it was you who pursued her for sessions time and time again. absolutely shameful that you’d describe her the way you did when she WAS always so sweet. you had me thinking she was some jealous competitive lee and she never once even cared what the fuck we were posting. oh, and Adi didn’t either, surprise surprise!

the mysterious event you supposedly played hooky from with T, to session with me at the casino? the reason why you asked me not to post content saying we played the previous night? insane behavior. there was never any fucking event. that’s LUNACY. oh, and you think i’m enjoying my “revenge tour,” yeah? just like you said about [lee 1]? just like you said about [lee 2]? what a magnificent phenomenon that everyone who ever finds you out for the narrative-twisting fantasy fiction author that you are is actually just being *vengeful* and trying to *ruin what means most to you.* you don’t see the common denominator here? you think WE wouldn’t see it?! are you really that vapid? you couldn’t be. i really didn’t think so.

aaaand yet, here you are. reading text messages from me out loud to Adi while you try to control the narrative there too, but leaving out the part where i wrote what you didn’t want to admit to. telling me whatever you thought i’d want to hear to keep me around for fucking tumblr views and fake vetting purposes, knowing damn well you don’t possess a FRACTION of the emotional responsibility that is actually required in a D/s dynamic with a “primary lee” that you offered me. a dynamic i didn’t even ask for by the fucking way. smoke and fuckin mirrors and too coward to just admit that you’re simply not interested. or is it because you actually just don’t have what it takes and that’s what you’re too afraid to admit?

this shit is fucking sociopathy and that barely scratches the surface. you will NEVER have access to me again and i don’t give a fuck what you say to anyone about me because i have nothing to hide. the truth is very easy to remember. i never have to defend myself to anyone. you know why? because i don’t lie, manipulate or coalesce for the sake of nothing more than my embarrassingly fragile ego. you fucked this up, not me.”