#and you just stay that way for like three hours

[peachesofteal]

more pizza girl

You're fucked.

It's the only way to explain how you feel, standing in the store, staring at bottles of liquor, wine, beer. You don't even know if this is the appropriate thing to do, but you've always seen it in shows, movies, so it must be, right?

You should have said no to this whole thing, should have told them you're busy, or you're working, or you had plans, but for some reason, you just knew they'd see through it. They'd call your bluff.

So here you were, staring at a rack of wine, trying to pick something to take to their house for dinner.

Even the thought is a marvel. You're not a complete shut in, you visit the few friends you have on occasion, your family, attend work functions, but this is different.

You know it is.

"Excuse me?" A petite old lady chirps at your shoulder, and you turn. "Do you need help?"

"Oh, um... no."

"You sure? It's just you've been standing here for almost thirty minutes." Fuck. 

"I'm fine." It comes out more assertive than you would have liked, and she backs away without another word. Great. 

You choose a six pack and book it out of there.

Their place is cozy. Not too small, not too big, clean and organized, orderly.

Except for the dog.

He's massive. 

And slobbery.

And... not for you.

Simon realizes immediately, and herds him away behind a baby gate, where he promptly slumps to the floor and closes his eyes, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth.

"He's..."

"Ye dinnae have to say cute. We know he's not."

"He's a mutt," Simon tells you, placing a bowl of something hot on the table, "but he's ours. Rescued him an' everything. Never liked pets but... found him on the street an' for some reason couldn't leave him behind."

"That's so sweet." He shrugs, Johnny rolls his eyes.

"Didnae tell me a thing. Just came home with a giant slobbering bear." You eye the table and it's three chairs, suddenly overflowing with anxiety. Which one should you pick? Which ones are theirs? Do they sit next to each other? Doesn't someone always sit at the head of the table? "Take a seat wherever," Johnny coaxes but you remain frozen, avoiding their eyes.

A hand folds over your shoulder with gentle, careful pressure, and warmth. "This one." Simon urges you towards the one in the middle, and you relax, grateful.

"Sorry." You mumble, but Johnny reaches across the table and squeezes your hand.

"Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry for. We're really happy you came."

"I... I'm glad I came too." The admission tries to stick in your throat before you force it free, and they reward you with soft smiles.

"Let's eat then."

Dinner passes in a breeze. It's so easy to sit with them, be around them. Involved in their conversation but comfortable enough to bow out of it too, and just listen. They're very good at navigating it, knowing when to stop and go, when to ask you something, and when to move on.

"If you want to stay for a bit, we were thinking about watching a movie. Afraid we're not really exciting." Simon calls over his shoulder, unfolding his glasses and slipping them on his face.

"Oh." Just do it, do it, do it- "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah but no... nothing scary. I can't do those." Johnny jerks his head towards the couch.

"Nothin' scary."

Simon doesn't give you the opportunity to stress over the seating arrangement this time, and points immediately to the left side of the couch. "The button down on the side will extend the footrest, and it can lean all the way back."

"Wow." Johnny settles on the other side, and Simon takes up an overstuffed armchair to your right.

Lots of distance. You kind of feel sad about it.

Your eyelids start to droop after an hour, and no matter how hard you fight it, you're in a losing battle. "I think I should go home." You mumble, and Simon pauses the screen.

"You alright?"

"I'm falling asleep." You don't make any moves to get up, instead curling in closer, tucking your hands under your cheek. The room is warm, the couch is soft, and the dog is snoring, which is comforting, in a weird way. "Should call an uber."

"We'll drive ye."

"No, no... I'm-" you yawn. You don't want to move, and when no one says anything, you let your eyes close for a few minutes. Just a few minutes.

In the dark, who knows what time or how many minutes or hours later, a blanket is tucked around your shoulders, shoes slipped off your feet, and someone strokes your cheek, trailing up over your forehead and away, lingering briefly.

"Sleep tight sweet girl."

[littlepeach-world]

 Which Boyfriend Calls Back First?

Pairing: Frontman/Hwang In-Ho x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and your friends test your boyfriends' responsiveness with a playful TikTok challenge, and naturally, your devoted boyfriend In-ho is the first to call back.

Warnings: Fluff, Cute!inho, Clingy!Inho, Protective!Inho.

Word count: 1k

You and your four friends—Yuri, May, Chaein, and Hayoung—gather around the dining table, each of you armed with your smartphones. The room buzzes with a mix of excitement and nervous laughter as you all prepare to join the latest TikTok trend: determining which of your boyfriends will respond the fastest to a missed call.

"Okay, ladies, are we ready?" Yuri asks, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Ready!" everyone chimes in unison.

You steal a glance at your friends, feeling the collective anticipation building up. "Alright, on the count of three: one, two, three!" you call out.

You all dial your respective partners simultaneously and then quickly hang up, creating what’s known as a "flash" call. The five of you place your phones back on the table, the screens facing up, and exchange amused and curious glances, eager to see which boyfriend will react first.

May leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smirk. "I bet Mark will call me back first. He's always so quick to respond."

Chaein laughs, shaking her head. "Oh please, Sunoo is definitely the fastest. Just wait and see."

You feel a familiar flutter of excitement as you look at your phone, fully confident in In-ho’s attentiveness. "Well, let’s just see about that," you say, grinning.

"Honestly, In-ho will probably call back first because he's so obsessed with Y/N. I mean, I'm surprised he even let her come out tonight," Yuri jokes with a knowing smile. 

It was no exaggeration; you and In-ho were practically inseparable. He despised being apart from you and would become upset if you were away for even a few hours. Heading out tonight to spend time with your friends had been an uphill battle, as he did everything he could to persuade you to stay with him instead. His unwavering devotion and the way he always wanted to be near you were endearing, adding a touch of romance to your relationship that made your bond even stronger.

Within moments, your phone lights up and starts ringing. The screen displays In-ho's name, and your heart does a little flip. You catch the surprised looks from your friends and can't help but laugh.

"Damn, In-ho’s fast!" Hayoung exclaims, genuinely impressed.

You pick up your phone, feeling a surge of warmth. "Hello?" you answer, trying to suppress a giggle.

"Is everything okay?" In-ho’s voice comes through, filled with concern.

"Everything's fine, love. It was just a little game we were playing," you say, your voice softening.

In-ho is renowned for his authoritative role and his emotionally guarded demeanor, but in moments like these, the depth of his love for you becomes undeniably clear. Despite the demands of his position as the Front Man, where he commands control and garners respect from everyone around him, you are the exception to his rigid exterior. Even amidst his busy schedule, he always ensures to carve out time for you, willing to drop anything at a moment's notice just to be by your side.

The room fills with light-hearted groans and chuckles as your friends mock-complain about losing the lighthearted competition. "Looks like Y/N's the winner," Yuri concedes with a playful pout.

You walk into another room, still on the phone with your love. In-ho's concern is palpable, yet there's a gentle humor in his voice as he says, "I could hear those groans and laughs—sounds lively over there."

"It's definitely lively," you reply, a soft laugh escaping. "We're just caught up in a silly game right now. But everything's all good, nothing to worry about."

There’s a brief pause, and you can imagine him thoughtfully staring into the distance, just as he often does.

"Are you having fun?" he asks, his tone lightening.

You smile, "Yeah, it's a lot of fun. We're all really into these goofy challenges."

"Good," In-ho replies, a warm undertone in his voice. "Do you need me to pick up anything from the store before you come back home?"

You think for a moment and then smile. "Actually, could you grab some snacks for later? You know, our usuals."

"Consider it done," he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Anything else?"

"No, that should be it. Thanks, love," you say, feeling grateful for his thoughtfulness. "Just get yourself home safely."

"I will," he promises. "I miss you."

Your heart swells at his simple admission. "I miss you too," you reply softly. "I'll see you soon."

As you hang up, your thoughts wander to the unique dynamic of your relationship with In-ho. You know that most people would probably find having a clingy, overprotective boyfriend suffocating or annoying. They might complain about the constant check-ins or the way he always wants to know you're safe. But for you, it's different. His attentiveness and concern are like a warm blanket on a cold night—they wrap you in a sense of comfort and security that you've come to cherish deeply.

You love how every call, every message from him is a small reminder that you are loved and valued. In a world that often feels chaotic and unpredictable, his protective nature provides a reassuring constant. In-ho has a way of making you feel like you are the most important person in his world, and it's a feeling you wouldn't trade for anything.

Your mind drifts back to a conversation you had with him not long ago. He had confessed that he had never been this way with anyone before. "I've never felt the need to be so protective," he had admitted, his voice soft but sincere. "But with you, I just want to make sure you're always okay."

His words had struck a chord deep within you. Knowing that his behavior wasn't a default setting but something unique to your relationship made you appreciate it even more. It was as if you had unlocked a part of him that had remained hidden until you came into his life.

Rejoining your friends, you can't help but smile, the warmth of In-ho's recent call lingering like a tender embrace. The noise and laughter around you feel a bit more vibrant, the evening a bit more enjoyable, all because of the love and devotion you know is waiting for you at home.

[jesuistrestriste]

Cowgirl reader x art when

𐚁 ✮⋆˙ needy!art donaldson x cowgirl NSFW 18+

—

art doesn’t even know why he agreed to go with patrick down south for an impromptu boys trip.

it’s stickier down there; the humidity so high that the air is practically drinkable.

the heat suffocated him and climbed down his throat the second he got off the plane, and patrick had unsurprisingly laughed at him when he developed sweat stains on his tee shirt after only ten minutes in the uber to their hotel. it wasn’t his fault, he just never handled high temperatures well.

he blamed the desert, or whatever hellish fire-breathing beast was desecrating this part of the country with such unimaginable warmth. he could hardly think straight with the way his clothing clung to his heat-prickled skin.

he regretted going on the trip from the moment they touched down at the airport. he wished he had stayed back home, then at least he could get some time on the courts. but no.

and so he ruminated on the idea that he shouldn’t have come.

that is, until he and pat went out to a bar that first night.

patrick had already gotten drunk in the first twenty-five minutes and was feeling up a stranger, staggering with them off into a booth buried at the back of the establishment to get handsy. art’s eyes had rolled so far back that he was sure the earth had almost tipped with them.

he leaned over the busy bar, sipping his underwhelming tequila soda until he felt someone different slip into the space next to him.

a woman.

a pretty—no, sexy one at that.

glossy lips, a loose tee shirt that hung off of one shoulder (pink bra strap on display), dark flare jeans that hugged her in all the right places, brown leather boots, and a cowboy hat.

she couldn’t look more typically southern. but fuck, she was hot.

she turns her head and smiles up at him, her hat tilting up with her neck’s movement to expose more of her face.

“hey,” she hums, her eyes scanning him up and down before he can even speak, “… you’re not from here, are you?”

her voice is warm and silky, like dark chocolate. it floods his brain and immediately dilutes his thoughts into incoherent ramblings.

god, why hasn’t he said anything?

say something, damnit!

“ha..! no, no.. not from here,” art chuckles out nervously after a brief clearing of his throat.

she just smirks. putting her pearly whites on display for everyone to see. or maybe just for him..?

“yeah, i could tell by the way you’re dressed.”

was.. was that an insult?

is he supposed to laugh?

shit, she smells like the most delicious—

the thoughts in his brain are cut off abruptly when he feels her hand on his chest, dragging down.

oh fuck.

“relax, city boy,” she purrs with an intoxicating drawl, her free hand taking the hat off of her own head and placing it on top of his blonde curls, “i didn’t mean to get y’all worked up.. i’ll buy you a drink, hm?”

“i.. uh, i mean— okay, yeah, uhm, sure. i’ll take a drink..”

—

an hour comes and goes, and then art somehow winds up in the back of the girl’s car; parked on the outskirts of the small gravel lot.

it’s a shiny, cherry-red convertible. fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. a picture of a well-groomed black horse tucked into the driver seat’s personal mirror (which she flipped up once the two of them were taking off their clothes).

patrick was still somewhere in the bar, preoccupied, so art felt less guilty about letting this woman drag him out the backdoor towards her vehicle. all it had taken was one sloppy kiss, and then he was willingly trailing behind her like a sick dog.

art can hardly process that now they’re completely naked; his flushed back sticking to her leather seats as she sinks down on his cock. a shuddering groan is pulled forcefully from his chest, spilling out in the next instant. he feels his balls draw up once, twice, three times in response to the feeling of her tight cunt gripping around him, and he swears he could almost come right then and there. she’s like a fucking goddess.

“can you handle me?” she smirks down to him, starting to rock her hips rhythmically like she’s riding a mechanical bull, “i wanna hear an answer, darlin’…”

“can’t—“

ugh, he’s choking on his words. shaking hands holding her waist with the desperation of a guy who hasn’t gotten laid in over a year. he’s allowed to be a bit pathetic.

“can’t?” she repeats, bouncing now on his slicked-up shaft, her nails running down his tensing abdomen and leaving red stripes in their wake.

he shakes his head, a loud whimper and gasp following suit. his thighs are starting to tremble. toes already started curling thirty seconds ago.

“can’t— can’t last, not gonna last—“

the woman just laughs lowly and rolls her pelvis in slow circles. art’s body vaults up in response, pushing against her weight on top of him as he feels a blurt of precome erupt from his tip and surround him in the condom— daring him to disappoint her and let it all go before he gets the go-ahead.

“ohh… aah— you really aren’t from around here, are you? poor lil’ thing…”

he doesn’t know why that statement from her makes his gut stir with pre-orgasmic convulsions. he’s trying to meet her movements with his own thrusts, but he’s losing stamina fast. every buck of his body into her pussy sends a sharp bolt of pleasure right up his spine. he’s sweating almost as much now as he was when he first arrived. probably moreso, if he’s honest.

and shit, he can’t be anything but honest at this point.

she’s making him forget everything he ever disliked about this part of the country.

she’s making him feel like her pussy could solve all of his problems.

she’s making him feel like… like… like—

“oh, god—!” he hiccups, squeezing into her torso, head tipped back and biceps curling as he tries to tug her down closer, “i’m sorry, i can’t hold it— i’m gonna come, can’t— can’t stop-!”

she giggles, and then there’s the voice again. warm, smooth, low. dripping right into the crook of his neck.

“alright, city boy,” she whispers, “come then.”

and that’s all it takes.

art’s eyes squeeze shut, his jaw slacks, and he lets out the most desperate strangled cry as he feels the scorching waves of pleasure consume him from all sides. he feels his cock kick against her palpating walls, pulses of his sticky white release webbing on the inside of the latex.

he’s practically vibrating by the time the aftershocks roll around, his baby blues looking up dazedly to the smiling woman still connected to him. her hands cup his flushed cheeks, her thumbs wiping beaded sweat from his temples and his forehead.

“there ya go… thaaat’s it, darlin’… let it all out…”

art sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and whimpers as he feels his dick stir inside of her, threatening to shoot again just from her words.

“haah… ha-aahngh… hnngh,” he quakes, gasping for air and trying to calm himself down, “h-how did… ngh— how did y-you do that t-to me..?”

trying not to sound so utterly wrecked is easier said than done, he’s realizing that now. he really can’t prevent it- he’s nothing more than a limp mess underneath her perfect form.

he winces and hisses softly with sensitivity when she torturously rocks just once more over his spent parts.

“oh, honey,” she laughs, “we just do it different down here.”

… god, he loves the south.

[onceinablueberrymoon]

special report | salesman (recruiter) x reporter!reader

scenario: ever wonder how the VIPs watch the games before they arrive on the island? reporter!reader delivers the highlights of each game to viewers around the world. and a certain someone is their biggest fan.  setting: in seoul between the second game (dalgona) and the special game during season 1 warnings: reader can be any gender, but this was originally written with fem!reader in mind; reader also works for the games; they're both just not nice people lol (but we love them anyways!); no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 629 notes: someone in a reddit thread had a theory that the VIPs would watch highlight reels of the first few games and this story popped in my head. salesman is called recruiter here since that's his official title. i love this guy sm (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“And that concludes our coverage for Day 2 of the Games. Please stay tuned for the Special Game, which will take place in two hours.”

You bowed to the camera, only straightening your back upon hearing the director yell “Cut!”. You shuffled the papers on the desk in front of you, then checked your phone. 

Three missed calls. 

You snorted, a small smile forming on your lips. You pressed on one of the missed calls, the number redialing on your screen. Bringing the phone to your ear, you waited for the recruiter to pick up. It didn’t even ring once before his smooth voice came through the speaker.

“Finally.”

You sighed, leaning forward to prop an elbow on the desk. “You know I’m at work. You of all people should know that.”

You could picture his cocky smirk.

“Care for a bite to eat? My treat,” he offered, which you accepted. There was still an hour and a half before you had to return to prepare for the Special Game.

You met at the tiny kimbap shop down the street. While you both could afford a fancier restaurant, a cheap, filling meal was all you needed right now.

“So,” you started, pouring hot barley tea into your teacups, “Did you catch any of the last game?” 

He nodded, resting his chin on his hands with his elbows on the table. “Very entertaining, as always. You never cease to impress me,” he praised.

Taking a big sip of tea, you scoffed, “Oh please. I’m the least interesting part of the show.”

“Oh?” He cocked his head. “Why is that?”

Shooting him an unimpressed look, you spoke, “Did you not see the same footage I did? The utter fear when they had to carve out the dalgona?” You laughed, “And when that guy got shot and slid down the slide… You just can’t make this stuff up!"

Pouring some more tea into your cup, you continued, "Seriously though, watching those players carve out the umbrella shapes was priceless. They were so scared!” With a shake of your head, you sighed, “I can’t believe some of them actually passed.” 

The recruiter chuckled, leaning closer to you. “While that was amusing, I found your performance to be far more enticing.”  

A blush crossed your cheeks, but you quickly shook it off, clearing your throat.

“I try my best. By the way,” you motioned towards him, “You’ve outdone yourself with the players this time. A perfect mix of competent and woefully tragic players. I’m not sure which I like more.” You shot him a smile, which he returned.

“Oh, and the group with the Host? Hilarious,” you grinned. “I can’t believe that 218 and 456 were childhood friends.” You tapped your fingers against your teacup. “But I guess, at the end of the day, trash is still trash.”

The lady running the shop arrived with your food, and the two of you ate in comfortable silence. However, you couldn’t help but notice the recruiter’s intense gaze lingering on you.

Once the recruiter paid, the two of you left the restaurant, and he walked you back to the office. 

“Same time tomorrow?” He asked, briefcase in hand.

You hummed, “Tomorrow is Tug of War, and there’s still lots to prepare before the final games.” You took a step towards him, a teasing smile on your face, “Why, miss me already?”

He huffed, “I can watch you any time.” Bringing his lips to your ear, he whispered, “But I prefer being near you instead.”

You tilted his head to look at you and kissed him on the cheek. Turning to enter your office, you looked back and called to him.

“Until next time, my dear recruiter!”

He flashed his signature smirk.

“Take care, my lovely reporter.”

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter twenty-three: Beneath the Mask

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

previous | 23 | next

Series Masterlist

The evening was heavy with silence, the kind that fills a room like a storm waiting to break. You sat across from In-ho, your fingers absently tracing the rim of your glass, watching him as he worked through papers at his desk. There was a subtle tension in the air, one that neither of you had addressed but both could feel. It wasn’t the same distance as before—no, this time it was more like an unspoken wall between you. You could feel his eyes on you, every now and then, like he was trying to decipher something about you.

But even as he remained immersed in his work, there was an unsettling vulnerability to him, an unspoken weight hanging over his usually stoic expression. You knew he was lost in his thoughts. There were still cracks in his armor, though he tried so hard to keep them hidden. You couldn’t help but feel the urge to bridge the gap between you—to understand what he wasn’t saying, what he was keeping from you.

The hours had drifted by, the soft hum of the quiet night only broken by the sound of his pen tapping against paper. But you couldn’t ignore the knot in your stomach any longer. The connection between you, however fragile, needed to be addressed. You had no idea what this was—this pull you felt towards him, this subtle but undeniable thread of something more. But one thing was clear: you couldn’t keep pretending that things were fine when the tension between you both only deepened.

“In-ho,” you said, your voice breaking the stillness. It felt strange saying his name, but it also felt like the first step toward something more. You didn’t wait for him to acknowledge you before continuing. “I need to ask you something.”

His pen paused mid-tap, and he finally looked up, his gaze flicking to yours with a cool indifference, but there was a softness there now—something hidden beneath the hard mask. He didn’t speak, just gave you a subtle nod, waiting for you to continue.

“You’ve been pulling away,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “And I don’t understand why.” Your voice wavered, but you couldn’t stop yourself now. “What’s going on, In-ho? I feel like there’s more to you than what you’re letting on. You’re holding something back. And I… I need to know why.”

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze turning cold again, as though your question had triggered something within him. For a moment, he didn’t speak. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he folded his arms across his chest, his eyes now fixed on some distant point beyond you. The silence stretched between you both, thick and suffocating. You felt exposed in a way, unsure if you had crossed a line you weren’t meant to cross.

“You don’t want to know,” he finally said, his voice low, his tone flat. “Trust me.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, a chill running through you as the walls around him seemed to rise higher. But you weren’t going to back down. Not this time.

“I think I do want to know,” you said, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest. “I’m not asking to pry, but if we’re going to keep pretending like nothing is going on, then I don’t know how much longer I can stay here. I can feel it, In-ho. The distance between us.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in his eyes—a flash of pain, fleeting but unmistakable. It was enough to make your heart race, even as he closed himself off again.

“Let it go,” he said, his voice sharp now, a command. “You’re better off not knowing. I told you before… this isn’t the life for you. The sooner you accept that, the easier it’ll be for you.”

But something inside you pushed back against that notion. You weren’t ready to let him shut you out—not when you could feel the depth of his emotions beneath that cold, calculated exterior. He was trying to protect you, but it wasn’t just that. You knew it. He was afraid. Afraid of losing someone else. Afraid of loving again.

“I’m not afraid of the truth, In-ho,” you said softly, standing up from your seat, closing the distance between you. Your gaze locked with his, and this time, you didn’t flinch. “You don’t have to protect me from it. I want to understand, even if it scares me.”

He looked at you then—really looked at you. His eyes searched your face as though trying to gauge whether you meant it, whether you were truly prepared for whatever he was about to say.

For a long moment, the tension hung heavy between you, the weight of his past pressing down on both of you. Then, In-ho stood up slowly, his movements careful, like a man preparing to reveal something dangerous.

“You think you want to know,” he began, his voice quieter now, as though he was telling himself more than you. “But the truth is… I lost everything once. My wife, my unborn child. I thought I had a future. A life. And then it was all ripped away in the span of a few months.” His voice cracked ever so slightly, but he quickly masked it, turning his back to you, walking toward the window. “It broke me. And now… now I don’t know how to love anyone anymore. Not like that. Not after everything.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the confession more vulnerable than you ever expected to hear from him. The realization that In-ho, the frontman, the powerful man who seemed to control everything, had been shattered by a loss so profound made your heart ache.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You wanted to reach out to him, but something told you he wasn’t ready to be held.

He shook his head, the darkness of the night outside reflected in the coldness of his eyes. “It’s not your problem,” he said, his voice laced with a quiet bitterness. “I can’t let anyone in again. You wouldn’t understand. You’re not part of this world. And I can’t—”

“You’re wrong,” you interrupted him softly, your voice trembling but determined. “I’m already here. I’m already a part of it. And I’m not leaving, In-ho. Not because of this.”

For a second, you thought he might say something more, but instead, he exhaled sharply and turned away from you, his jaw clenched tight.

“You should go,” he said, his voice thick with finality. “I have things to handle tonight.”

You didn’t say anything else. You simply nodded, heart heavy, as you turned to leave. But as you reached the door, you glanced back at him. There was something different in the way he stood—something that hadn’t been there before.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready,” you said quietly, then walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar behind you.

In-ho didn’t follow. He didn’t say anything more. But you knew, deep down, that something had shifted. Whether it was a step forward or a step back, you weren’t sure. But you could feel it—the quiet promise that things between you had just begun to unravel, for better or worse.

———————

Chapter twenty-three!! Wooow let’s goo! More progress?? As always lemme know what you think! Thank you! :)

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[sirhamburrger]

what is this feeling? (m. bachira x reader)

━☆ (accidental theatre date, for day one of @phantasmaebg) ━☆ in which an unfortunate situation turns into something less tragic. ━☆ wc: 728 || tags/cw: f!reader, reader is a wicked fan bachira is just a silly little guy || event m.list ━☆ late to the first day of ebg.... not a good start

meguru doesn’t understand why he has to be here.

okay, sure, so karasu has two tickets to see wicked the musical live in tokyo. and fine, he and otoya can’t make it last minute, so now he has both tickets and a growing impatience in his heart. 

it’ll be a good experience, he distinctly remembers the osaka-hailing teenager declaring. you need to learn how to appreciate the fine arts. he doesn’t even like musicals, and he certainly won’t be able to sit through a nearly-three-hour stage performance. even if it has a green-painted-lady in it.

he fishes out his phone, starts texting karasu an apology that he won’t be staying for the whole play. but then he hears a sniffling noise coming from behind him, and he turns to face…

her. 

her, with her wicked t-shirt and baggy jeans and her now-ruined green mascara, and the way she frantically looks through the contents of her bag, then wallet, muttering a watery, unintelligible curse under her breath. and the way looks absolutely devastated right now. 

his heart jumps in his chest, and he’s opening his mouth before he even realises it. 

“hey, you good?”

she jumps, startled, but then relaxes a little - it doesn’t seem as if she’s let her guard down just yet, though. he hands her a packet of wet wipes (once belonging to otoya) for her makeup, and he sees your cautious gaze turn into relief when the green glitter comes off easily.

“thanks,” she mumbles, folding the now-dry wipe into a little square in the centre of her palm. she fidgets with the already fraying corners.

“not an answer,” he presses further, watching he curiously.

she rolls her eyes. (he can’t tell if she’s genuinely irritated or if she finds him weirdly endearing. he sincerely hopes it’s the latter.)

“oh, i just… can’t find my ticket.” she glances between him and your bag, her left hand already reaching back in to search once more. “a stupid mistake, really.” when she sees he’s not leaving, she looks back up at him, quirking a brow upwards.

“well, what are you waiting for?” she gestures at the two tickets he has clutched in his hands, then tilts her chin towards the theatre entrance. “you should go meet up with your date or whoever. the show’s going to start at seven-thirty sharp. wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

meguru blinks. “why do you assume i have a date for tonight?”

she chuckles, and a glimmer emerges in her eyes, one he thinks suits her well. “let’s just say you don’t seem like the kind of person who goes to musicals just for the fun of it all.”

feeling particularly bold in the moment, he replies, “and you are?”

“yeah.” her eyes soften, and a wistful smile stretches her face ever so slightly. “yeah, i am.” she looks down at your empty hands, then back up at him. “too bad i lost my only ticket to a sold-out broadway show. pretty silly of me, huh?”

“come watch it with me, then.” 

meguru’s own words seem to ring in his ears, and for the first time in his life, he’s panicking. even when he was this close to losing the most important match of his football career, he was perfectly calm. but when the stakes are a pretty girl calling him a creepy bastard?

yeah, he thinks his heart is about to combust.

still, his outstretched hand - the one clutching the ticket - does not waver in the slightest. he sees her surprised expression, and tries again. “come with me.”

“i can’t possibly-”

“but you’ve wanted to go for so long,” he interrupts, earning himself a narrow-eyed glare that seems to scream, i don’t need your pity. he quickly breaks eye contact. “and i’m not meeting anyone tonight, so…”

the corners of her pretty mouth twitch up in an unexpected smile.

“i’ll be geeking out the whole time. oh, screaming in your ear, too. are you sure you're ready for that?”

“yeah, no, absolutely.” he attempts a smile of his own, hoping it doesn’t look like a grimace. “you can tell me all about it.”

she lets out a real laugh this time, so sudden and pure, and together they step through the gilded double doors.

end.

bonus:

me [7.25]: sorry  karasu🐦‍⬛[7.45]: sorry for what? karasu🐦‍⬛[7.45]: bruh reply karasu🐦‍⬛[7.47]: BRO WHAT FOR

bllk masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger 2025

[nexlynn]

HIIII!! would you maybe mind writing a se-mi x reader fanfic!?!?! like literally just pure fluff, cuddling and makeouts and whatever you like, just anything fluff!! and maybe if you don't mind, you could write about se-mi being a tease and shes like super duper confident and knows how to fluster the reader and stuff, SORRY IF THIS IS ODD, no pressure/no rush!! 💗💗

Se-mi x f!reader

Fluff

Basically se-mi have been working for so long and reader needs her attention.

"Are you done soon"

You sigh, you've been waiting way to long for Se-mi to finish her work, and you just wanted to cling into her arms, cuddle her until tomorrow, even staying there forevet if you could. But sadly she didn't seems to have finished yet.

"Ten more minutes."

You whine at her words, she said that already 30 minutes ago, and she's still going on.

"But i want you now please!"

She looks up at you, you knew you had her attention, oh how much she loves when you beg her to touch you, to pamper you.

Se-mi grabbed your wrist, pulling you down on her lap, facing her.

"Oh yeah ? Does my girl wants me now ?"

Your knees straddle her thighs, and her hands rest firmly on your hips, grounding you.

"My needy girl," she mumbles in your ear, her fingers tracing slow circles along your sides. "You couldn’t wait just a little longer, could you? You’re absolutely desperate for my attention, aren’t you?"

"Maybe" you reply, biting your lip, she made you nervous, her words going straight to your stomach, giving you that feeling that you loved.

She chuckles as her hand sneaks up your back to pull you closer. "You’re so cute when you’re flustered" she says, her nose brushing yours, your lips almost touching hers.

"Stop teasing me" you manage, but your voice betrays you, shaky and breathless.

"Why would I do that" she whispers, moving her face, her lips brushing now against your ear. "when you look so pretty like this?"

And before you can protest further, she presses her lips to yours, softly bringing you both into a passionate kiss, kiss you waited for an hour already.

She didn't seems to want to pull away, it felt too good, for her but for you too, feeling her lips on yours, her hands on your hips, keeping you from moving too much.

When she finally pulls back, her grin is absolutely wicked. "Is that what you wanted?"

You nod quickly, breathless and dazed from the kiss.

"Good" she says, leaning back in to pepper kisses along your jawline. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

Her work, for now, is completely forgotten, and you can’t help but feel victorious as she holds you tighter. Finally, finally, you’ve got her all to yourself.

"I love you" Those three words, you love to hear them, you felt your heartbeat fastening, your face flushing, you want to answer but can't, feeling her lips coming closer to yours again and in a second, you felt her lips crashing on yours again.

And suddenly you couldn't do anything, you melted in her arms, enjoying the feeling. Her hand slides to your neck, forcing you to continue the kiss, not that you would try to pull away anyway.

After a bit, she had to pull back, her eyes opening to see the most beautiful sight she probably ever saw, her girlfriend, breathless from the kiss.

"You love that uh? You love the control you got over me"

She heard you and let out a laugh, her fingers gripping on your nape, not hurting you though.

"Damn yes i do, i love it babe."

An : I hope you'll like it i tried to follow the request i have no idea if it's good or not.. keep in mind that english isn't my first language so there might be some faults I still take request I'll try to post one or two times a day!

[mixingandmelting]

Hii,

I'm not sure if your requests are open but I wanted to ask you if you could write a Dick Grayson x reader one where the reader is the daughter of one of Bruce's business partners and they meet at some sort of charity gala and he's instantly smitten with her.

Feel free to ignore this if you have too much to do.

Thanks ❤️

Witty, charming, and someone who matches his humor. He didn’t think he’d hit the jackpot tonight. Initially he had simply wanted to keep you company after seeing you all alone at your table. He expected either shy and sheltered or spoiled and flirty.

“A table for one at a gala?”

“What do you mean? Can’t you see I’m actually with three others?”

“Oh really? And they are…?”

“Me, myself and I.”

It comes with a pleasant surprise how the roles reverse and it’s him getting entertained by you. He lost track of how long he stayed at your table, unable to stop himself from chatting with you. You’re where the party’s at in this boring event and it confuses him how no one else has attempted to strike up a conversation with you for this long. Not that he’s complaining; he’s plenty satisfied to have you to himself. Your jokes draw genuine laughter from him while your laughter is just as infectious. The way your eyes sparkle and crinkle as you do- he rests his head onto his hand, admiring it and not wanting it to disappear. He can’t get enough. 

There’s no barrier or rich people’s behavior seen despite you introducing yourself as the daughter of one of Bruce’s many business partners and him as Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son not too long ago. Not even an hour in and you both are acting as friends that haven’t seen each other in ages. Perhaps even more if he plays his cards right tonight. Take you out for a nice walk. Grab something to eat. If you’re into it, watch a movie. All of the ideas that come from him jesting about rich people never imagining or having no knowledge of what the common people do for fun only for you to snort about how else were you to learn to talk and behave like them then. 

“Earth to Dick?”

Oops. He flushes under the smirk that dances on your lips, caught red-handed for day-dreaming his date with you. Not that you’d know the last part, but still.

“Am I starting to bore you yet?”

Yet? This whole time you were trying to get rid of him? The grin you give as you take a sip of whatever’s in your flute tells him otherwise. Returning one of his own, he’s about to respond before someone behind him calls your name. 

Turning around are your parents, walking side-by-side with none other than Bruce who raises an eyebrow at him. Ugh. Great. He most definitely won’t hear the end of this one. Looking back at you, he catches a spark of wistfulness in your eyes that quickly disappears as you give him one last smile. 

“Seems like that’s my cue.”

“Wait.” He’s conscious with his grip on your arm, gentle yet firm to grab your attention. “If you’re into it, mind giving me your number and we can hang out later?”

You bite your lip when you’re thinking. Good to know; definitely something that won’t leave his mind for a while. He tries not to show how giddy he is when you extend your phone out towards him. Giving him a tiny wave, you leave while telling him you would text him. The rest of the night goes uneventful as he mingles with others, half paying attention to what they say as he continues to think about you. Others including his family who wouldn’t stop giving him crap. 

It’s once he reaches back to his place and comes out of the showers, he gets a text. Drying his hair with a towel in one hand, he looks to see your name with a sunglasses emoji under your number. His heart somersaults and he fist pumps the air. He can regret not sleeping tomorrow morning, for now all he wants is to talk to you and make the date between you and him a reality.

[okaysonny]

Hiii!!! Omll I js came across your page few days ago, love the way you write the Characters!! I was wondering if I could request a Vin Jin x reader, in general just fluff and goofing off like two mischievous idiots, and Mary having to deal with their bs a lot. Also could you include Reader and Mary bonding time like I feel like they would honestly be best of friends!! 😭

If you picked this up thank you so muchhh and don't forget to take care of yourself and stay hydrated! 🫶

karaoke night ╏ vin jin + mary kim

𝄞 summary: your karaoke night with mary takes a chaotic turn.

𝄞 details: fluff, f! reader, won't make sense if you haven't read jacedaichi case files arc!

𝄞 wc: 780

𝄞 A/N: anon! thanks for being so nice 💘 hope you like it :)

the plan had been simple. you and mary, a chill karaoke night, a fun time.

until vin jin finds out, of course.

“are you kidding me? karaoke again? i’m a rapper. i’m basically built for this” he boasts. “you’re welcome for blessing you girls with my skills”

now, here he is, sitting on the couch in the private room with an air of importance.

mary sighs. “...this was supposed to be relaxing”

vin jin scoffs. “relaxing is listening to me rap. instead we’re stuck here listening to amateur hour”

you roll your eyes, flipping through the song list. “you talk a lot for someone who can’t rap on beat”

vin jin slams his hand on the table dramatically. “what did you just say? i’ll have you know my skills are—”

“trash” you say, cutting him off. “anyway mary, how do you feel about singing illusion? it's my favourite DG song!”

mary’s eyes light up. “mine too! let's do it!”

as the music starts playing, you and mary grab the mics, your voices completely off pitch, but enthusiastic nonetheless.

vin jin winces, sinking deeper into the couch — as if your singing physically hurts him.

“this is painful. how does DG even make money? they should put my songs on here instead. then you’ll see what real talent sounds like”

you smirk, lowering your mic. “your talent? you mean the ability to make everyone’s ears bleed?”

mary stifles a laugh as she tries to focus on singing.

vin jin grits his teeth. “you’re just jealous of my raw skill!”

“oh...i'll show you some raw skill alright” you shoot mary a devilish grin and select a new song.

mary’s eyes widen in horror as she sees the title. “no...you wouldn’t. stop! you know what’ll happen!”

vin jin looks confused, his eyes darting between you two. “what’s the big deal? what did she—”

the instrumental to duke’s song starts playing.

he freezes. “you…you bitch!”

to mary’s resigned disappointment — vin jin can’t stop himself.

“You look like you're an aboker, Y'all just clueless!” he barks the lyrics into the mic, standing up abruptly.

vin jin moves involuntarily to the beat, his body already betraying him.

you cackle hysterically. “oh my god, he’s doing it! he’s twerking again!”

“shut up! i can’t stop!” he shouts as his hips shake — quite aggressively.

mary watches in disbelief. “...stop twerking” she mutters.

for just a moment, mary finds herself thinking about the old days in cheonliang. the teasing, the laughter — it felt…familiar. she didn’t say it, but the sight fills her with something warm.

after some more singing (and vin jin refusing to acknowledge he’d ever twerked), the three of you wrap up the night.

vin jin had stalked off, grumbling about how he’d been “set up” and “betrayed by the system,” leaving you and mary walking home together.

“you two are exhausting” she says, though her tone is more amused than annoyed.

“pfft, admit it. watching vin twerk made your whole week” you bump elbows with her.

“watching vin twerk will haunt my whole week” she shoots back.

but mary shakes her head, her smile undeniable. “you guys are so ridiculous, but it’s kind of fun. makes me think of…”

— of her friends back in cheonliang. the teasing, the ridiculous antics, a place where mary felt like she belonged. watching you and vin jin tonight, it almost feels like those days again.

“...yeah?” you ask, noticing her distant look.

mary blinks, snapping back to the present. “nothing” she murmurs. “just thinking”

“about how you can’t wait to sing with me again?” you beam, pleased with yourself.

“...sure, we’ll go with that” she replies dryly.

as you continue down the street, the conversation shifts to lighter topics — what tunes you’d sing next time, why DG suddenly announced his retirement, and if vin would ever admit he likes duke’s songs.

when you reach her house, mary turns to you, her expression soft. “thanks for tonight. it was…nice”

you grin. “you’re welcome. karaoke wouldn’t be the same without you”

mary raises a brow. “you mean it wouldn’t be the same without vin embarrassing himself”

“okay, true. but you make it better! you keep us from being too chaotic” you nod in satisfaction.

mary rolls her eyes, but there's a flicker of genuine gratitude. “someone has to”

you smile warmly at her. “...goodnight, mary”

she gives you a wave, before disappearing inside.

you stand there for a moment in contemplation. you can’t shake the feeling that mary had more to say, but you leave her be.

you tuck the moment away, turning to head home, already thinking of what you could bring to karaoke next time.

divider: @thecutestgrotto

[darknight3904]

All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: As tranquility settles over your life, you wrestle with your feelings for Joel.

Warnings: Langauge, Joel's not-so-secret porn magazine stash.

Word Count: 2k

Previous Part / Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

June 2024

Peace. It was something so rare in this post-apocalyptic world you lived in now. Despite its rarity, it is something you experience regularly now.

Your days had become calm and almost uneventful. It'd been nearly a month since Adam had shown up in Jackson and Joel had killed The Walrus for you. Whoever The Walrus had as allies in Kansas never showed up. There were round-the-clock patrols still going but Tommy and Joel had both told you many times that they weren't going to show.

Despite the inherent peace, you were still on edge. You knew Adam was dead, you had watched Joel drag his body off into the woods. The Walrus had been tortured and killed yet here you were, still scared that they might appear and rip you away from Jackson in the middle of the night.

These fears had landed where you were now. Instead of staying in your own home like the grown adult you were supposed to be, you had taken up residence on Joel's couch. The past three nights had been spent tossing and turning on the soft cushions. You weren't sure what it was, perhaps fear, or maybe just general loneliness but you found yourself, lying beside him in his bed.

There is a full moon tonight, it shines through the curtains and illuminates the room. The soft creak of the floorboards under your feet alerts him to your presence.

"What's wrong?" He mumbles, barely awake

"I'm cold." You whisper from his doorway.

It's a half-baked excuse, both of you know it's a lie. It's happened three times now, you tiptoe upstairs from the couch and make up some excuse to wiggle your way into his bed.

"Let's get you warmed up then."

The duvet shifts and you shuffle across the room to slip under the covers. You turn on your side to face him, your head resting on his pillow.

"Warm?"

"Mmhm."

"Good."

Joel had yet to address this newfound closeness. You weren't sure what to make of it, all you knew was that you felt safer under his covers listening to his snores.

Luck was never something you could claim to be blessed with. Even at the end of the world, you were unlucky. Todays bad luck once again manifested in the form of the mouth of one spitfired teenage girl.

"So, are you and Joel y'know, together?"

The question has you nearly choking on the glass of water you were sipping on. Ellie was standing across from you in the kitchen, still in her pajamas asking the most embarrassing questions possible.

Joel sighs and plugs his coffee maker in, pressing the start button before turning around to look at Ellie.

"Quit askin' questions and go brush your teeth."

Ellie's footsteps disappear upstairs as she mumbles something under her breath. Joel passes you a steaming mug of coffee before speaking again,

"Got a late-night patrol tonight."

You nod. Late-night patrols meant that he'd be returning in the early hours of the morning, there was no point in waiting up for him to beckon you under the warm duvet of his bed.

"I'm working in the Greenhouse later, going to visit Maria and baby Cailey first."

Joel nods, "I can come by later. You're harvesting potatoes today right?"

"Yeah," You say, "But don't you wanna relax today? We'll have to dig all the plants up, harvest, and then reseed them."

Joel's mouth quirks up into a small smile, "I can think of nothin' more relaxing than digging in the dirt with you."

You roll your eyes and turn away to dig in the fridge for eggs, hiding your blush behind the door as you push a jar of jam out of the way. He was so flirtatious these days, it drove you crazy.

"I don't know what I should do..." You sigh

Baby Cailey coos at his mother as she places him into a small pack n' play someone had hunted down.

"Why not just embrace it?"

Maria made it seem so simple. Embracing the way Joel would flirt with you, it was easier said than done. Truthfully, you were scared. Scratch that you were fucking terrified. You were terrified that it would all be snatched away from you in the middle of the night. Terrified that Adam would rise from his grave in the forest and break into Joel's home in the middle of the night. You were terrified of Joel getting cold feet the way he did twenty some years ago.

"You're insane." You point out, leaning back into her sofa.

She shakes her head in disbelief, "I get it, you're scared."

God, it's like she was in your mind reading your thoughts.

"Look, when Tommy first started asking me out I was scared too. Hell, I avoided him for nearly half a year just because I was scared."

A smile spreads across your face. You remember those days, Tommy had been so distraught whenever Maria would magically disappear from the Tipsy Bison after he tried to approach her.

"We can't let fear rule our lives. In a world like this, we have to live life to the fullest." She says

"And you think by fawning over Joel, I'm living my life to the fullest?" You question

"I do, but don't you already do that?"

You scoff and avoid Maria's smug gaze, she certainly thought she had everything all figured out over there.

"Two weeks ago, you told me you loved his biceps." Maria points out

"I was drunk." You dismiss her comment with a wave of your hand

"Off one glass of wine? Didn't know you were such a lightweight." She smiles

"Yeah, well. I guess I'm getting old." You lie, you definitely weren't drunk.

That had been the day Joel had pushed the couch across the living room and then lifted the TV into a new corner so there was less of a glare when Ellie watched her movies during the daytime. Your jaw nearly hit the floor as you watched from your spot at the kitchen table. God the muscles on that man had to be illegal.

"I don't like Joel. Didn't like him when Tommy first told me about him, still don't really like him now." Maria admits

"Yet you're pushing us together?" You look at her like she's lost it.

"I want to see you happy though." She says earnestly, "Plus, he's my brother-in-law so I feel like that gives me some moral obligation to see that he's living a good life."

You groan and fiddle with a loose thread on the couch cushions.

"It also helps that you act all, well, giddy when he's around."

"I do not!" You say

"Sure you do. It's like your normal personality leaves the room and you're laughing and teasing Joel like you two are high school sweethearts."

You scoff and turn your attention to Cailey who smiles at you when you peer over the edge of the pack n' play. She's got big brown eyes and tufts of dark curly hair atop her head. You're pretty sure Maria had created her all on her own since it looked like Tommy's genes had just given up in the womb.

"She's got your eyes." You point out, turning the topic of conversation.

Maria smiles at the way you observe her baby, "She's got my everything. Tommy was hoping she'd look a bit like him."

"Why? He wants to curse a baby with a life of torture?" You tease

Maria laughs and gently kicks your shin as punishment for bad-mouthing her husband.

"Is she sleeping through the night yet?" You ask.

You don't know much about babies, most of your knowledge came from high school health class when an old teacher named Mr. Klein had droned on and on about how teen pregnancy was the devil reincarnate and that you'd all die if you didn't use condoms.

"If she was, you think I'd look like this?" Maria gestures to her mismatched outfit and unbrushed hair. Her eyes look a bit dull as she stares down at her baby. Truthfully though, even with her odd clothes and sleepless face, Maria looks good.

"I think you look fine." You muse, "Pretty even."

Maria scoffs, "Now you sound like Tommy."

"Well, at least he's right about something."

The greenhouse is humid today. You kneel in the dirt and pull at the tops of the potato plants, ready to reveal the harvest.

"Look at that view!"

You groan and sit back on your knees, your partner for the day is Janet, an older woman who seems to never keep her mouth shut. Her choppy white gray hairs glimmer in the sunlight as she checks the tomato plants. She has to be at least in her mid-70s yet she moved better than you some days.

"Knock it off." You huff in embarrassment

"I'm not the one with those jeans on." She muses, "You said Joel is coming by soon? You're gonna give him a heart attack like that!"

"You're so weird." You sigh plopping a nice-sized potato into the basket on your left

"I know what men think." Janet points to her temple and then to your ass, "Joel is going to lose his-"

You toss a handful of soil at her when the greenhouse door opens, and Joel steps in.

Janet sends you a sly wink as you and Joel kneel in the dirt together, unrooting potatoes beside each other. She also lewdly picks up an eggplant and shakes it in the air when Joel lifts the heavy basket with ease to dump it into a wheelbarrow. You roll your eyes, how has your life become like this?

After nearly three hours of digging in the dirt, you and Joel are on the way back to his home. Your shoulder brushes his and a tingle shoots down your spine. Even now, covered in dirt and stinking of sweat Joel Miller is devastatingly beautiful.

"You sure you're not too tired for patrol tonight?" You ask shyly

"I'll be fine." Joel assures you, "I wanted to give Ellie the house, she and her friend Dina are havin' some Star Wars marathon today."

You nod. You like Dina, she's nice and helps you clean the dishes whenever Ellie invites her over for dinner. Ellie seems to be more content talking the girl's ears off instead of actually scraping the leftovers into Tupperware bins.

"There's nothing worse than an adult hanging around a teenage girl hangout." You smile and elbow Joel's side gently

Joel looks over at you, taking in the wide grin on your dirt-smudged face. You sound like you're alluding to Ellie and Dina getting into trouble together.

"Well, now you're makin' me nervous." He huffs

"You should be." You tease, "You don't even wanna know what my friends and I were discussing at that age."

Joel shakes his head in disapproval, "Don't do that."

"Do what?" You laugh

"Tease me. Ellie isn't at home gigglin' over some...TigerBeat magazine filled with stupid pictures of Ralph Macchio or somethin'. "

"Or is she?" You over-exaggerate your gasp, "What if she got into your porn stash?"

You'd found it one day while Joel was off repairing something at the bar. Under his bed in a shoebox, you had pulled it out, wanting to sweep the dust bunnies from under the bedframe. And, as they say, curiosity killed the cat, before you knew it you were opening the shoebox to reveal three old porn magazines that had to have been from the 80s and 90s.

You had picked one of them up, it was clearly well-loved and flipped through it. Most of it was rather tame, at least compared to some of the stuff that had been on the internet before the fall. One dogeared page caught your eye, A man had a woman on top of him, legs on either side of his hips as she rode him. You couldn't help but notice the remarkable resemblance she bore to you.

"I don't have a porn stash." Joel scoffs, refusing to look at you all of a sudden, yup he was guilty.

"Then what's in the shoebox under your bed?" You ask innocently

Joel's ears have begun to go red as he keeps pace with you, "You're awful, y'know that."

"Don't be a prude." You laugh, "it's natural, Joel."

"Oh is it?" Joel suddenly looks at you, a glint of well, evil in his eye, "That mean you got a stash of your own, baby?"

It's your turn to blush now. Joel had just dubbed a new nickname on you. Baby. Baby. Fuck you liked, no loved the way it sounded coming off his lips. God, it was so him, calling you that.

"No, pervert." You scoff

"You're the one who brought it up, if anything that makes you the pervert." He teases

You huff and cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable. How'd he turn this into a conversation to tease you? And that new nickname, fuck you wanted to climb right on top of him right here in the middle of Jackson. Instead, you send him a glare,

"You're so annoying."

"Thanks, baby."

Next Part

Ugh, they're so cute, I want to eat them.

My college semester started back up. I'm shaking in my boots and it's only syllabus week :(

Shout out to @heartpatch for inspiring me to introduce the baby nickname.

May I present, what I expect out of TLOU season 2:

Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter, I carry the tags over to each part.

Tags:

@lunaticgurly  @orcasoul  @snowlycanroc  @freythecrazyfae

@person-005 @greenwitchfromthewoods

@elli3williams @yawnzzzzzzzz @am-3-thyst  @concrete-jungleeee

@cherrypieyourface  @kanyewestest @bambisweethearts

@sarahhxx03 @loveisacowboyyy @amyispxnk @lou-la-lou @dancinglotusbud @superblyspeedydragon @heartpatch

[emsdevs]

Jack, Do You Think About Me?

a/n: this has been a thought in my head since this song came out! here's a little jack x famous singer!reader inspired by noah by megan moroney. enjoy :)

You and Jack had gotten together the summer after you both turned seventeen. Your relationship was good, but good wasn’t always enough. You’d skip class together, riding around in his car, blasting “Record Year” by Eric Church. You were completely his, but he didn’t belong to you, not really. When he got drafted, he made the decision that your relationship should end, so you both decided to live out your last summer together before ultimately calling it quits the day before he got on a plane to New Jersey. 

Now, it had been years since you had seen him. You checked on him every once in a while, through the internet or mutual friends. You wanted the best for him, and he’d always own a piece of your heart. You couldn’t let him have all of it anymore though. You had met a nice guy, just a couple of years older than you, at your job. You were fresh out of college and quite nervous, but he had helped you settle in. Before long, you and the guy, Liam, had realized there was a spark between the two of you. He asked you out, and a few nights later you found yourself on a dinner date with him. Liam was great, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew he wasn’t Jack.

Not long after you and Liam officially got together, you decided to pursue your dreams and started uploading covers and your own songs to YouTube. After just a couple of months, you had gotten discovered and signed a deal with a record label. Liam was right there with you, supporting you through it all, but you couldn’t help but think about when Jack would tell you he’d never heard a voice more beautiful than yours. Now you’re touring, and it’s affecting your relationship with Liam. 

“I never see you anymore. I just… I thought I could handle this, but I need someone who can be here. I can’t settle down with a girl who lives on a tour bus,” Liam seemed exhausted, and you were tired of arguing with him, especially after that last comment.

“Fine, you can find your way to the airport I assume, then?”

“Yeah. I’ll get outta your hair.”

That night, after your tears dried up, you did what you did best, write. Just hours later, you were looking at a song called “Break It Right Back” that summed up how you were feeling about your entire relationship. When your band met with you to practice the next day, you threw it into the mix with some of your other unreleased songs, letting them get a feel for how you pictured the melody sounding. You’d be performing in Buffalo, New York later that night, and you planned to debut it as a surprise song on the setlist. It would likely stay for the next few shows, just until you got all the feelings out.

Four nights later, you were playing Madison Square Garden, but unbeknownst to you, a certain boy you used to consider a brother dragged your ex and half of their hockey team to the VIP section of your show. You had made it to the halfway point, walking around the stage and interacting with fans. That’s when you see him, Jack Hughes, the boy you had never really gotten over. You locked eyes with him (the VIP section was rather close to the stage at your shows), and everything came rushing back. You continued on with the show, trying to play it off and act like you were fine, but all of that changed when it was time to play the surprise song. Originally, like in the past three shows, you were planning to play “Break It Right Back”, but something stopped you. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew you had to try one last time. You stopped your band and began to give the audience a little speech.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just… We were supposed to play “Break It Right Back” right now, but I feel like I should perform another song for you guys. I uhh… I wrote this song a while back. It’s about an ex of mine. We were um… we were together for about a year in high school, but our lives led us in different directions. So yeah, um… this one’s called “Noah”, and yes, I changed the guy’s name. So no one go searching for someone named Noah that you think I dated because I didn’t,” you tried to joke a little at the end, attempting to calm your nerves. Your band knew the song and started playing it perfectly. You couldn’t look anywhere near Jack, terrified of what his reaction might be. Soon, you were at the bridge, and your eyes were briefly drawn to his before you started singing, “It’s more problematic than it is innocent and sweet. You’re more like a secret I wish I didn’t have to keep, and I bet by now you’ve found somebody new. I did too, but when I lie down next to him sometimes I’d rather it be with you.” 

You finished the song, still not daring to glance Jack’s way, and then you reveled in the cheers from the audience, who had clearly enjoyed you performing a never-before-heard song. 

Once the show was finished, you went back to your dressing room after sharing a hug with your band and vocalists. You took a breath, letting yourself calm down from the adrenaline rush you still get from performing. A moment later, you hear a knock on the door. Assuming it’s your manager, you tell them to come in, but you’re shocked to see a gaggle of hockey players huddled in the doorway. The two in the front stand out the most to you though. You’d be able to recognize a Hughes brother anywhere, and now there were two right in front of you. Luke decides he’s done wasting time, quickly moving forward and engulfing you in a hug. All of the boys, even the ones you had never met, gave you their congratulations and told you how much they enjoyed the show. It wasn’t long before Luke was coming up with an excuse to usher everyone but Jack out of the room, hoping you two could work things out. 

“You did great out there,” Jack started the conversation.

“Thanks. I guess I have to come watch you play hockey now, huh?” you chuckle, trying to diffuse the tension.

“Did you write that song about me?” Jack cut to the chase, tired of dancing around the subject.

“Jack- I… If it bothers you, I won’t release it, and I’ll never perform it again. I just needed to let you know how I felt when I saw you in the audience.”

“It doesn’t bother me, I swear. It makes me happy. I think about you a lot. Honestly, I don’t know that I ever got over you, and the biggest mistake of my life was not even trying to make the distance work with you.”

“Hey, it’s okay. We both needed to grow on our own. Look at where we both are, living our dreams. If we didn’t break up, I probably wouldn’t be here, and your game is so good right now! Please don’t feel bad,” you tried to reassure him.

“Do you uhh… Do you think we could try again? I mean- I know you’re on tour right now, and I’m just on a short break before games start back again. But I need you around again. I really think we could make it work this time.”

“I think we could make it work too, J. How about we start out slow okay? Get to know each other again?”

“I can work with that,” Jack breathed out a sigh of relief, wrapping you in a hug. Both of you were happy to be revisiting something that made you both so happy. You didn’t know if Jack would be your forever, but you’re content to work together with him to see if he would be. At least now you could think about him without feeling guilty.

taglist: @heartsforjh @fofiquierellorar @justxpaulina @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @puckmedude

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[intothedysphoria]

Do you think if Billy came back to life, Steve and the party would be overprotective of him? Or wary?

The Wheeler kid wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone.

Apparently he was being “monitored”, in that fourteen year old way of “I’m going to stare at you until you justify the conclusion I’ve already reached.” Christ he wasn’t drunk enough for this.

If he’d ever be allowed alcohol again from where he was, lying on a hospital bed with complete mobility loss in both legs.

Billy finally decided to look up and there was three of them.

The wheeler kid, staring at his notebook. Harrington’s cousin, the excessively loud one. Lucas, eyeing him with suspicion.

“Just get lost already”

It was all he could force out, wanting to sound threatening but just on the verge of pathetic instead.

They stayed and continued to visit.

It was never the exact same combination and never with Harrington but Billy’s room was constantly full of kids.

Mike seemed to want to use him as a science experiment as did Dustin. They were always ushered quickly out by the nurse who had become accustomed to Billy’s short fuse.

Lucas and Will, Billy wasn’t sure. They could have been sent by fucking Hopper for all Billy knew. He’d never even met the Byers so Will had no need to visit him and the guilt of how he treated Lucas still reared its head regularly, even after apologising. So he really had no reason to be there either.

But they came in with a chessboard one day and asked to play.

So Billy taught two fourteen year olds to play chess while he should have been moving into a college dorm. They were surprisingly good company. Wheeler and Henderson still left something to be desired but they were a fraction more tolerable.

Max showed her face for the first time early in September. There was a dark bruise under her eye that made Billy feel particularly sick. The fucking bastard.

She sat next to his bed and they talked. They talked for hours. Neil was still going to be an issue of course but she was working on it.

It was said with the dark determination of her voice that made Billy pause. Once he got out of that godforsaken hospital, they’d deal with him together. And Neil wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone ever again.

The girl appeared next. The girl Billy remembered but didn’t.

Hoppers daughter. Quiet and very serious for a girl in her early teens. She smiled at Billy and looked so like Max for a second, Billy decided he was going to spend his entire life fighting for her.

Steve didn’t come to see him for months. Almost Christmas really.

A flood of memories came back seeing that face.

Fighting. Apologies. A first date under the stars. A lot of sex. Breaking up.

Being dragged into the cold.

Nothing.

“Sorry”

God the amount of times Billy had wished he could hear that voice again.

“I guess I just couldn’t believe it.”

The old Billy would have shut him out and screamed until his voice left. Drunk the pain away.

But this was the new Billy. The new Billy looked at Steve’s face and saw someone he loved who’d made an honest mistake.

He gestured Steve over and kissed him before he had a chance to make a ridiculous apology.

“You’re fine Harrington. You’re fine.”

[mi-olaaa]

Sleepyhead..

Fem!reader, husband!suguru, pregnant!reader, fluff, plussize and black reader as always pookie! 🤭 enjoy!

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

↳˗ˏˋ Jjk m.list..ˊˎ˗ ☆

“Will you be there in the morning? To love me, love me, love me?”

It was a calm and bright morning when your fiancé Suguru, woke up with an urge to cater to his sleeping wife (at least that’s what he’s been calling you since he put that huge ass rock on your finger), and while you were enjoying the comfort of your bed, tangled in the sheets with your feet dangling over the edge of the bed, he decided to cook you breakfast.

Carefully rolling out of bed, mindful of your baby bump, you and him both know that when it comes to the lil’ peanut you feel every and anything touching on you, he slips out of bed unnoticed— then proceeds to bust his ass on the pregnancy pillow you probably threw off the bed at some point with how wild you sleep. Mission failed successfully..

“Shit—” Suguru lifted his head from off the floor to look at your face, you were still knocked-out cold, sobbing and shit. He stifled a laugh as he got up, going downstairs and straight to the kitchen before he actually woke you up. Suguru opened the fridge, looking for something to make, his eyes landing on eggs and chicken strips. He found bacon too, but decided on the chicken, knowing how the smell and taste of pork had you feeling sick lately since you’ve reached 26 weeks.

He also grabbed some waffle mix, feeling that you would probably appreciate him using the waffle maker you so desperately needed at Target a couple of weeks ago. Suguru was just grabbing a bowl to mix up the eggs when he heard the telltale sign of you waking up, the bathroom door shutting. He just rolled his eyes, continuing to mix up the eggs and putting them on the skillet. You were such a diva in the morning that he just had to laugh— even before the baby.

You were currently in the bathroom, brushing your teeth and washing your face, waddling around the bathroom to grab a towel. Once you were done, you called out to your fiancé, wanting to see his face this morning. “SUGURU!! C’MERE.” You yelled at the top of your lungs, and it must’ve been funny, ‘cause you couldn’t even breathe, wheezing as he came up the stairs like there was fire under his ass, heading to the master bathroom.

“My love—” Suguru took a deep ass breath, “You called? Is there something wrong with the baby? Is there something wrong with you?” You giggled, the poor man was out of breath, wheezing more than you were. “I’m fine, I just wanted to see my man this morning.” His eye twitched, and a very prominent vein appeared on his forehead, you mean to tell him you were screaming like a chicken with its head cut off for nothing?

He regained his composure, rolling his eyes. “You know there are other ways to get my attention, right?” And you nodded and smiled, his heart melting. He couldn’t stay mad at you, i mean look at you, you’re so beautiful, pregnancy had you glowingg! He just had so much love for you and then you had to go and be the mother of his child too? He could die happy.

Or just die. He totally forgot about breakfast, but he sure remembered when he heard the smoke detector go off. Just as quick as he got up there, he ran back downstairs to the kitchen, the damn eggs were burn as shit, literally a hard puck in the middle of the pan. You just were going down the stairs as fast as you could, at a speed of about three miles per hour..

“Sugu— what’s going on?” He whipped his head back so fast in your direction, you swore it cracked. “Nothing angel-! Just go back upstairs.” He tried to get you out the kitchen, but you’d be damned if you get burnt to a crisp in a house fire, stepping closer. “That sure seems like a lot of nothing..” You rolled your eyes, taking a seat at the kitchen island to watch the new reality tv show apparently, watching as Suguru fumbled with the pan in the kitchen sink, running water over it while one hand has the dish towel, fanning at the smoke detector unsuccessfully.

Eventually he got the kitchen under control, opening a window as well. Your fiancé just looked so defeated, leaning against the kitchen counters, hands in his hair, and you couldn’t help but appreciate his effort to cook breakfast, but you both still had to eat.

“DoorDash?”

“DoorDash.”

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

Authors note: heyyy! This one is kinda short.. but I hope yall like itttt 😭 I thought it was cute so 🤷🏾‍♀️

[eliasgold20]

Elijah the Gold Prep pt. 2

After walking out of professor Percival's office, Elijah found himself in the passengers seat of his car. The vintage vehicle matched the professors office, a shimmering bright gold. Elijah was still dazed and confused, perhaps even more so due to the strong smell of professor Percival's strong cologne. He doesn't know why he went into his car, he knew he needed good grades, but everything before was a blur. Classical music plays on the radio as Percival keeps driving, only breaking the near half hour of silence when they get close to their destination.

"Now Elijah, to pass my class there are a few rules, do not speak just nod your head," Percival begins. Elijah nods mindlessly.

"when we get to the house you are to walk with me to a room and stay there," Elijah nods his head.

"Do not speak to anyone in the building unless I give you permission," Elijah nods.

"From here on out the answer to every question is "Yes, Daddy." "Yes Sir" will also suffice but please limit the latter."

"yes Daddy." Elijah says mindlessly. "Wait What?" Elijah thought. He didn't date say it out loud. Why would his professor demand such a thing? Was this some weird kidnapping thing? Surely, not. It couldn't be. Elijah just needed to go along with it.

"Good boy," Percival says, for some reason breaking Elijah out of his daze enough to let out a wide grin. "Now, we're home." Home? Elijah thought.

Elijah remained seated for his daddy to open the door, unbuckling him and pulling him out before linking his arm around Elijah's.

"follow me Elijah, I want you somewhere first." Walking up to the estate, Elijah couldn't help be taken aback by its beauty. The men were in the car driving through woods and forest, far away from civilization. The estate though, was gorgeous. A massive mansion in shiny gold. The inside was marble floors, mosaic and Chinese art filled the walls, surrounding a grand staircase. At the head of the staircase was a giant portrait of Percival, looking devilishly handsome as ever. "Right this way."

The two make their way up the stairs and through the corridors of the house. The building itself could be a school by its size but it was where Percival called home. Eventually the pair made their way to a far away room.

"you will stay here Elijah, until I summon you. One of my workers will guide you. Enjoy the rest for now." Percival opens the door with a key and leaves the corridor. Elijah entered the room to find a bed with satin sheets, velvet sheets by a window looking out a courtyard, a private gold plated bathroom, but what caught his eye most was the closet.

The walk in closet connected to the room was fully stocked. Lining the walls were three piece suits, french-cuffed button up attires, toes, belts, leather shoes, most all a shimmering gold like Percival.

"what is this place?" Elijah said allowed take aback by the room. One thing that caught his eye was a box on his bed, containing a golden bottle of Ralph Lauren Cologne. "Well this wouldn't hurt," Elijah said before spritzing the cologne. Just as Percival's cologne did for him before, the cologne filled his mind, making him go dizzy and a bit tired. It was at this point he heard a knock at the door. Dragging his worn sneakers across the phone, Elijah opened the door to a man in a tight fitting black polo shirt and black jeans, the only color being a golden wreath on the right side of his chest.

"Master Percival is ready to see you in the shop, you will follow me," the servant said. Elijah didn't have the space to question the request, he just nodded happily.

Soon, Elijah found himself in a new room, looking like a 1950s barber shop.

"There is my boy," Percival said coming to Elijah, greeting him with a kiss. The cool breath of Percival leaked into Elijah's mouth, making his dizziness even worse. "I'm sorry I kept so much from you, I promise I'll explain it all in time, as of right now, have a seat." Percival guides Elijah to a barbers chair before a wall that functioned as a mirror. Elijah took his seat saying the one thing he knew how to say,

"Yes Daddy." Percival massages the boys head, his fingers seemingly drilling in Elijahs brain, melting it continuously. He throws over Elijah a golden smock and picks up a pair of scissors. Elijah doesn't process what is going on, he just listens to his daddy.

"Elijah, I must say I'm happy you came into my office. I can tell you're a good kid you just need help," Percival starts as snipping can be heard around Elijah.

"Yes Daddy." Elijah mindlessly responds, his mind melting more by each minute.

"I see potential in you Elijah. You graduated your high school with honors, president of the chess club, but you got a taste of freedom and burnt out all too common for boys your age." Now buzzing could be heard, along with a razor to the back of Elijah's head.

"Yes Daddy." It was true, Elijah did use to be a good kid. Now none of this was true, Elijah was smart but never applied himself in school. But whatever daddy said magically came true.

"That's why I wanted to tell you my decision," Percival says turning Elijah around, "Lean back dear I'm going to wash your hair," Elijah obliges. "I will not change your grade, you don't deserve it, you failed." The words cut deep into Elijah, he should lash out, all of this but no change in grade? He was being played. But he didn't lash out, he only said...

"Yes Daddy."

"I will however get you a better grade, better grades I should say." Percival applies a shampoo and conditioner from a golden bottle to Elijah's hair. "This is very expensive product, you better appreciate it. But I digress. Starting today, you will live here as my boy as you always should have. You will dress properly, behave yourself, and become a model student. A golden student." The shampoo and conditioner finally dissolves Elijah's brain completely. Any memories of partying were gone. All he knew, and remembered was daddy in his golden suit. The water stops

"Yes Daddy," Elijah says. Percival gets to Elijahs eye level and speaks to him authoritatively.

"you know why I always wear gold Elijah?" He questions, "Gold binds everyone, it showcases high status, perfection, unity. It bonds all of us, brings out the best in everyone, it is the gift of this world. That's why my life is to represent it, as will be yours."

"Yes Daddy," Elijah confirms. All he can think about is looking like daddy, acting like daddy, being like daddy.

"Good boy, now," Percival turns the chair back to the mirror, "What do you think?" Elijah stares into the mirror. His long brown locs of hair are now pin straight strands of perfection. Well, almost. Percival takes out a gold tube of gel, pouring a liberal amount in his hands.

"This will minimize frizz, maintain order, and ensure perfection." Percival rubs the gel onto Elijah's hair, making his hair stick in a perfect, preppy cut. "Now boy, you must get dressed. My servant left an outfit on your bed. Get changed and meet me downstairs for your first command.

"Yes Daddy!" Elijah wasn't monotone this time, but ecstatic for the chance to obey. He rushes to his room in a brisk walk, finding on his satin sheet today's outfit. A gold vest, cotton briefs, a French cuffed shirt, a bowtie, short chino pleated shorts, loafers and knee-high socks. The outfit was perfect. He put the outfit on, revelling in the tight fight of the crisp button up, the breeze on his bare thighs from the shorts, the comfort of the socks, the security of the bowtie, the stiffness of the shoes. He ran to the mirror. He looked like daddy's boy, and he couldn't be happier. Faster than he could run to the main hall, he grabbed his unwashed, slovenly sweatshirt, boxer shorts, tennis shoes and jeans and threw them in in the golden pail in the corner. He wouldn't be seen dead in them.

As Elijah makes his way to the corridor, daddy is there with a pail and cleaning supplies. First thing boy, while you live with me you will be expected to do chores. Take these and clean the mud you carelessly tracked in. Percival hands Elijah the supplies and walks to the sitting room to read his paper.

"Yes Daddy!" Elijah loved chores, he loved having responsibilities, more so he loved the affirmation from daddy when he did a good job. He hummed to himself and smiled as he scrubbed the marble floors until he saw his preppy reflection. When he was done he ran to his daddy, craving affirmation.

"Good boy!" Percival said, filling Elijah with pride. "Now another chore. Polish daddy's shoes while he reads his paper. I want to look my best before we go out to dinner." A shoe polishing set was set off to the side, Elijah happily obliged.

"Yes Daddy!" He scrubbed daddy's shoes with glee, knowing he was helping the man who had taken him in.

"By the way boy," Percival says flipping through his papers, "I took a look at your schedule. I took the liberty of adding French, Mandarin and Latin to your schedule. No boy of mine will be uncultured. Your major has also changed. You will study accounting and history, set you up for a pre-Corporate Law trafk. Additionally you also have etiquette classes after the school day on Tuesday and Thursday, chess club meets Monday Wednesday and Friday, they get out the same time I'm done so we will go to and from school together, and I will take you to soccer practice, understood?" Percival demanded. Elijahs response was as consistent as his love for Percival,

"Yes Daddy!"

To experience your best self, join the Golden Army by contacting our recruiters @polo-drone-001 @goldenherc9 and @brodygold

[sofa-king-lame]

48. Out of habit - Buddie

Oop this one got away from me a little. But here it is!

—

Four months after Christopher left for Texas, Eddie kissed Buck at a farmers market over the potatoes. It had surprised Buck so much he forgot what it was they even went to the farmers market for in the first place (Eddie had tagged along for the hell of it, just wanting to be around Buck). The sun was shining behind him, catching the natural highlights in his curls and when Buck had lifted up his sunglasses to inspect the purple sweet potatoes a little closer Eddie lost any sense of self control he had. Buck’s eyes crinkling against the bright light of the rising sun had been too much for Eddie to tamp down on, so he’d said ‘fuck it’ to himself and grabbed the collar of Buck’s shirt to pull him in and kiss him absolutely senseless.

“Wanna get out of here?” Eddie breathed heavily when they parted. Buck had nodded fervently and followed Eddie wordlessly back to the Jeep. They made it almost all the way back to Eddie’s house holding hands over the centre console before Buck realised they’d left empty handed. Neither of them cared much when they kissed again at the front door, against the front door on the inside, in the hallway, the doorway to Eddie’s bedroom, then finally the bed.

They did go back the next morning and manage to actually get what they went for without traumatising any vendors.

Buck essentially moved in after that and they spent the next month (somewhat guiltily) enjoying having an empty house. Buck seemed to make it his mission to see exactly how loud he could make Eddie be, which is pretty damn loud as it turns out. Mrs. Parnell from next door refused to look Eddie in the eye the morning after a particularly excellent evening (it’s not Eddie’s fault it had been unseasonably warm so they’d had the windows open, and it’s also not Eddie’s fault he never knew sex could feel like that).

—

Buck gets up before Eddie every morning they’re at home together and is always waiting in the kitchen with coffee, breakfast, and a delightfully soft good morning kiss. They exist in a hazy bubble where the only thing that matters is them.

—

Eddie

Christopher messages Eddie and says he wants to come home five weeks after Buck and Eddie get together. They both cry a little over it, then Eddie spends two hours arguing with his parents on the phone about it.

“We just don’t think he’s ready,” Helena sighs.

“If he says he’s ready, then he’s ready,” Eddie groans. The only reason he’s not banging his head on the table in frustration right now is because Buck is next to him with a secure arm around his waist.

“But how can we be sure we’re returning him to a safe environment? How can we trust something like this won’t happen again?” Ramon asks. Eddie wants to break something, maybe hit someone. He chooses to grab Buck’s free hand and squeeze it instead. Buck returns his grip just as fiercely and presses a gentle kiss to Eddie’s temple (Eddie is incredibly grateful they’re not on a video call, he doesn’t think he could handle this alone).

“Maybe we should bring him and stay for a few days,” Helena suggests. The absolute last thing Eddie wants is for his parents to stay in his house for a few days, but if it means getting Christopher back without needing to seek legal advice he’ll do it.

“Fine,” Eddie replies through gritted teeth. “You can stay for three days.”

“Oh, I was thinking maybe a week -“

“This is my house,” Eddie reminds them, “and Christopher is my son. Three days.”

“Three days is fine,” Ramon concedes. Eddie hears his mother sigh unhappily, a sound he is all too familiar with (a constant presence in his childhood).

“We’ll be up this weekend,” Helena tells him before promptly hanging up the call. Buck is quiet beside him, still firmly gripping his hand.

“I have to go back to the loft, don’t I,” he says sadly, as Eddie drops his phone to the coffee table in front of him. It clatters louder than he thought it would but he barely registers it over the blood rushing in his ears.

“I don’t want you to,” Eddie murmurs, but he knows it has to be this way. His parents are already going to be questioning everything, and having Buck around all the time would probably only raise concerns ‘are you telling us you’re incapable of looking after Christopher yourself, Edmundo? Why is your coworker always here?’

“It’s okay,” Buck assures him. “This weekend is about getting Chris back, so that’s what you’re going to do. I’ll be here if and when you need me.”

“I’m not ashamed. I’m going to tell them,” Eddie insists, because the past month he hadn’t felt anything other than pure joy and contentment. He wants to scream from rooftops ‘I got Buck!’

“I know,” Buck smiles. “When the time is right. You got this, okay? Let’s get you your kid back.”

—

Buck

Buck ends up having to work the day Eddie’s parents arrive, but manages to at least be there when they turn up. The reunion between Eddie and Christopher is tearful and happy, and Buck sheds a few tears of his own when Christopher gives him a brief but tight hug.

“Missed you so much,” Buck murmurs as he hugs back.

“I missed you too,” Christopher mumbles as he steps back. Helena and Ramon are watching closely, meaning Buck is hyper-aware of his proximity to Eddie. Having spent the last month only stepping out of each other’s space to use the toilet and work, it’s borderline excruciating not being able to give Eddie’s hand a reassuring squeeze or place a grounding kiss on his forehead. Eddie meets his gaze over Christopher’s head and flashes him a tight smile, before grabbing his parents’ bags and hauling them inside.

“So, Evan,” Helena starts and Buck barely manages not to visibly flinch. He doesn’t think he’s ever referred to himself as Evan around Eddie’s parents, and he’s almost certain that if Christopher had been talking about him he would have called him Buck.

“It’s Buck,” Christopher and Eddie correct her at the same time. Buck notices the tension in Eddie’s shoulders ease a little at that, smiling at Christopher who ducks his head to hide his own grin.

“Right, of course. Buck,” Helena says dismissively. “Do you think Eddie is ready to have Christopher home?”

“I, uh. I don’t think that’s my call to make. That’s entirely up to Eddie and Christopher, isn’t it?” Buck coughs awkwardly. “My opinion doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Eddie interjects, sending Buck a pleading look.

“Okay. Then yes. I think Eddie has been ready for Christopher to come home from the moment he walked out the door,” Buck tells Helena bluntly. He won’t tell her what he really thinks, because he knows Eddie is trying to salvage his relationship with them for Christopher’s sake (even if Buck thinks they don’t deserve it).

“Maybe we should speak to your boss, Eddie. And you said you’re seeing a therapist, could we speak to them too?” Helena continues and this time Buck does visibly flinch. Eddie’s jaw tightens and Buck watches as he takes three deep breaths in a row before responding.

“No,” Eddie says simply. “We won’t be doing that. You can stay for the three days we planned if that’s what Christopher wants to feel more comfortable, but this visit isn’t about you assessing my capacity to parent my child.”

“Eddie we just want to be sure he’s safe,” Ramon insists.

“Christopher is safer here with Eddie than he is anywhere else,” Buck huffs. “I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t think it was true.”

“You work together, you don’t have an unbiased opinion on the matter,” Helena scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. Buck hates her.

“Eddie is my best friend, so you’re right. My opinion isn’t unbiased. But Christopher is equally important to me, and I wouldn’t tell you he was safe here if I thought he wouldn’t be,” Buck snaps. Buck is now already running late for work, and although he desperately wants to stay and support Eddie he has to leave.

“Buck, it’s alright,” Eddie says softly, crossing the room to stand with him. “We’re gonna talk. You are late for work.”

“Yeah,” Buck mutters. “I’ll check in with you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie murmurs. It takes every ounce of Buck’s self control not to kiss Eddie goodbye, not to use his fingers to hook under Eddie’s chin and tilt his head up to rest their foreheads together, not to massage the tightness out of his shoulders. He settles on a quick clap on the shoulder as he heads out the door.

—

After his shift Buck heads home to dump his things and change into his running gear - it’s early enough in the morning that turning up at Eddie’s would raise too many questions, so instead he runs to their favourite cafe to get enough coffees and breakfast for everyone before turning up at a more normal time. Helena is out the front of the house as he walks up the driveway and observes him quizzically.

“Good morning!” Buck greets cheerfully. “I was out for a run and thought I’d swing by with coffee and breakfast.”

“That’s…very nice of you,” Helena says slowly. “Do you do things like this often?”

“All the time,” Buck responds after carefully considering his answer. “Eddie and Chris are both incredibly important to me, and I like to do nice things for them.”

“Hmm,” Helena hums. Buck chooses to ignore her as he precariously balances the bag of breakfast wraps on top of the coffee tray to open the door, toeing off his shoes before padding through to the kitchen. Ramon is at the table and shoots him a confused look as the starts to pull plates out of the cupboard.

“I wasn’t sure how the two of you take your coffee, but w- Eddie has cream and sugar,” Buck chatters, hoping they don’t notice him almost slipping up and saying “we have cream and sugar”. Because they’d bought both together a week ago, barely able to keep their hands off each other in the grocery store. Eddie’s parents arrived less than twenty-four hours ago and Buck is already very ready for them to fuck off back to El Paso. Knowing Eddie is in his their bed down the hall and he can’t climb in with him, even just to curl around him and nap for a few hours, is killing him. Buck suspects Eddie has been living in his very own special circle of hell over the last eighteen hours though, and he doesn’t want to make things worse. So he tosses two of the wraps into Eddie’s sandwich press to toast them, retrieves the cream and sugar for the coffees, and waits patiently for Eddie to get up. Helena joins Ramon at the table and they begin to whisper between themselves, Buck pointedly not eavesdropping (because he’s too tired to bite his tongue over whatever shit they’re probably saying about him or Eddie). He can hear Eddie coming down the hallway now anyway.

—

Eddie

Eddie blinks awake earlier than he has been on his days off over the last month, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up still half-asleep. He can hear Buck puttering around and makes his way down the hall and into the kitchen. Buck is watching the sandwich press and Eddie can smell their favourite breakfast wraps toasting away.

“Morning,” he murmurs, sliding into the almost non-existent gap between Buck and the bench. He kisses him softly, the way he’s done most mornings for the past month. Buck, however, stiffens underneath him and a loud gasp sounds from the general direction of the table.

“Uh - you, um -“ Buck stutters as Eddie suddenly remembers that his fucking parents are here. At his kitchen table. Deciding whether or not they’re willing to give him his son back.

“Fuck,” Eddie hisses. He steps away from Buck to find his parents staring at him, his mothers mouth hanging open. His father has gone bright red and his fists are clenched on top of the table.

“What was that?” Helena demands. “What on earth is happening here?”

“I was saying good morning to my boyfriend,” Eddie tells her, because fuck it. He’s proud to be with Buck, and he wants everyone in his life to know how fucking happy he is. “I forgot you were here.”

“Boyfriend?” Ramon sputters. “Boyfriend, Edmundo!”

“Yes, Dad. Boyfriend. If you’ve got a problem with it, you know where the door is,” Eddie responds coolly. Buck’s brushing his hand against Eddie’s, the way he does when he wants to hold hands but is letting Eddie take the lead. Eddie grabs his hand firmly and brings it up to his mouth, pressing a firm kiss to Buck’s knuckles.

“Christopher is coming with if you make us leave,” Helena warns.

“No I’m not,” comes Christopher’s voice from the doorway. “I’m staying here.”

“But -“

“No, no but. Chris wants to stay,” Eddie asserts, feeling braver than he ever has in front of his parents with Buck by his side.

“But Christopher, what about all those teachings from the church you enjoyed?” Ramon asks him. Helena has started crying, clinging to Eddie’s father and hiding her face.

“I hated church. You forced me to go, I never wanted to,” Christopher mutters. “It’s all bullshit anyway. Dad told me about him and Buck last night, and I want to move home.”

“Language, Christopher,” Helena admonishes harshly, and this is Eddie’s breaking point.

“Get out,” he snaps. “Christopher is not your child. He’s my child, and this is my home. He can swear if he fucking wants to.”

“This is not how we raised you, Edmundo,” Helena wails. Ramon is stony and silent, jaw set tight and staring at the wall behind Eddie’s head.

“I am grateful every day that I’m not the person you tried to raise me to be,” Eddie scoffs. Buck’s grip on his hand tightens and he leans closer, bumping their shoulders together.

“Eddie is the best person I know,” Buck interjects, voice wobbly. “Despite the two of you.”

“Who do you think you are, speaking to us like that?” Ramon finally snaps.

“He’s the one who’s been here for me all the times you should have been,” Eddie retorts. “Now get out of my house.”

“Christopher,” Helena pleads, but he ignores her in favour of crossing the kitchen to join Buck and Eddie.

“You should go,” Christopher mumbles. “I’m staying.”

“We’ll be in touch soon,” Ramon mutters as they fucking finally walk out of the kitchen. Eddie follows them to make sure they get their bags, watching until their hire car is no longer visible. It’s only then that he drops his shoulders, rolling them to relieve the tension that had rooted itself there the minute his parents pulled into his driveway.

When he returns to the kitchen he finds Buck hugging Christopher, his eyes red and watery.

“So proud of you, buddy,” Buck murmurs, giving Christopher one last squeeze before letting him go.

“That was really brave,” Eddie adds. “I was never brave enough to stand up to them when I was your age.”

“Whatever,” Christopher sighs, shrugging his shoulders. His pink cheeks betray the facade he’s putting on, as does the smile that breaks out across his face as Buck presents him with his breakfast wrap and hot chocolate. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Missed you, kiddo,” Buck says, but he’s looking at Eddie and grinning.

“Missed you too,” Christopher replies around a mouthful of egg and sausage. “Missed you, Dad.”

“I missed you so much, Chris,” Eddie tells him softly, sitting next to him at the table. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, but I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Y’know, with me and Buck.”

“Are you going to leave if you guys break up?” Christopher asks bluntly, looking at Buck.

“Never,” Buck insists. “I’m here for good.”

“Then it’s fine,” Christopher shrugs. “Just don’t be gross in front of me.”

“Deal,” Eddie chuckles. Buck gestures subtly to the living room and Eddie stands to follow him out, pulling him in for a kiss as soon as they’re around the corner. It’s a hell of a lot more chaste than most other kisses they’ve had in the last month, but Eddie bathes in its warmth anyway.

“You good?” Eddie asks, because he wasn’t the only one in the line of fire this morning. Buck had walked right into it for Eddie, defending him like it’s what he was born to do.

“I’m good. Are you good?” Buck replies, resting a hand on Eddie’s cheek.

“I’m great,” Eddie grins. “I’ve got my family back together.”

“You were amazing. I can’t believe you finally stood up to them like that,” Buck breathes. Eddie snorts because he doesn’t really feel brave - he feels like he lost his cool, but man did it feel good.

“Thank you for backing me up,” Eddie murmurs, pressing his forehead against Buck’s.

“We promised to have each other’s backs years ago. I’m not ever breaking that promise,” Buck whispers as he kisses Eddie again.

“I can hear you being gross,” Christopher calls out from the kitchen. Buck laughs and gives Eddie a peck on the lips before heading back into the kitchen.

“The deal was not to be gross in front of you!” Eddie argues, following Buck and sitting back down.

“Being able to hear it counts as in front of me,” Christopher counters with a huff.

“Fine,” Buck sighs, setting his and Eddie’s breakfast and coffees down on the table. “We’ll just be gross when you’re not looking or listening.”

“Yeah, you’re a teenager now. Not looking or listening is all part of the process of growing up,” Eddie teases. Christopher groans but doesn’t leave the table, and Eddie thinks he might be biting back another smile.

“We love you,” Buck tells Christopher, who was definitely biting back a smile (that’s now being hidden behind his cup of hot chocolate).

“Love you too,” he mumbles. Yeah, Eddie is good. Probably the best he’s ever been.

[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

a.n — double update cause it's a short one + apology for the contents of this chapter word count — 1.4 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

seven wednesday, january 29th

"no, i'm telling you, it's real! i read about it." devon pulls on hazel's arms as the four of you walk toward your school building. "someone talking about it in a tiktok video is not reading about it, devon." ivy laughs and devon shoves her to the side. "you believe me, right, y/n?" she turns to you and you're in this weird inbetween place where you can hear them, sort of but your mind is also in a million other places so you don't immediately answer.

"hey?" hazel rests an arm on your shoulder which halts you, "hm?" you ask and look at your three very concerned best friends. "you know we don't have to go, right? we can just..go to my house, get all the strawberry ice cream from the freezer and have a long discussion about ..cryptozoology. devon can tell us about that time she saw the loch ness monster again." she says and you smile when devon mutters something about her experience being 100% real.

"you have a perfect attendance, hazel. we are not going to tarnish that for..a boy. i'm okay." you try to sound convincing, try to convince yourself even because really, it shouldn't suck as much as it does. you knew that rafe somehow reciprocating your crush was wishful thinking. it was stupid to ever even entertain or let the idea play in your mind.

you'd had crushes before, even kissed two guys. once when you were fourteen and once when you were fifteen but looking at them never felt the same way as looking at rafe and you had never even come close to kissing him.

"but—"

"no. let's go." you force the three girls forward. you were first in your class, first in your entire grade, you singlehandedly organise almost every major and minor event at this school, you process all the complaints and changes students want almost weekly, you help your parents at home, you work at a bakery on saturdays, you volunteer on sundays. you are resilient and capable and rafe cameron is not going to bat his eyelashes and break you in one month of knowing him. it just wasn't going to happen. it couldn't.

you could avoid him, you think as you walk into the school building. right? this school was fairly big and truth be told, before you started tutoring, rafe didn't really stand out to you. things could go back to that time. they had too.

the first four hours went perfectly. you passed by the office and helped sandy with some paperwork until class started, then you went to class and were able to avoid him during the break as well.

you got nervous when lunchtime came around. you and your friends usually stayed in school during lunch which meant rafe could just walk up to you in the cafeteria but there were other places you could go. you could go to the green spaces or the common area. maybe even the bleachers in the basketball court though you never really liked the smell in there.

you eventually chose the green space. it was quiet and calm, just what you needed. you and your friends sat down and when you open your bag you realise you left your lunch in your locker. "i left my lunch in my locker, i'll be right back." you tell them and fish your key out of your bag before making your way out of the green space and down the stairs.

when you made it to the second floor, you walked to your locker, keys jiggling in your hands. "y/n?" your heart stopped at the sound of his voice, and the natural course of action when someone called your name was to stop or at least turn but you just kept walking. "uh huh?" you answered.

"hey, hold on!" he called and you heard him start to jog. you start to walk faster. "i..uhh am kinda in a hurry!"

"just wait." he grabs your wrist and whips you around. he looks unjustifiable good again. you force yourself to not make eye contact. "yes, rafe?" you find yourself saying in the most passive tone and his gaze lingers, filled with worry. "what happened yesterday? i texted you like ten times." he's visibly upset—crease between his brows, soft searching eyes boring it yours and it makes you upset and now you want to pinch yourself for being upset because you've created some kind of fucked up parasocial relationship with a guy who has no real interest in you.

"i..just wanted to go home. so, i went home." is the only thing you can come up with. it's technically the truth too. you pull your wrist away from his hand and he watches the action with a pained expression. "did something happen while i was gone? why didn't you come to me? i was going to take you home."

you shake your head nonchalantly dismissing him, "it's fine. i like walking, i barely exercise so i need it. it's absolutely fine." you're already turning around to find your locker but he's grabbing your wrist again, "why are you acting like this?" he's frustrated with you. you understand. you're acting different but you're frustrated with him too. even if you don't necessarily have the right to be. "you know i'm not that smart so stop playing fucking mind games with me."

you frown at his tone but also his choice of words. "you are smart, rafe. you're very smart." you correct, not liking it when he belittled himself. him not believing he was capable or smart was the whole reason he needed tutoring in the first place.

"yet i can't piece together why you're mad at me." he says, his tone displeased and you shake your head, finding his eyes. you find yourself wanting to appease him, wanting to make him feel better. you hate that he's upset, it coils something deep inside of you. "i am not mad. i'm not upset, i just..i didn't want to—" it was baffling how much you struggled to come up with a lie. you weren't a liar, okay? "i-i saw you, i saw..that you were, you were.. and i j-just—" you stammered and threw your head back in frustration.

he stared at you, eyes wide and expecting. "you just..what? how am i meant to fix it if you won't tell me what's wrong?"

"you haven't done anything wrong; if anything it's me. i—"

"you what? you didn't have fun? did someone hurt you?"

"no one did anything." you murmur and it seems to be what pushes him over the edge, "then what's wrong?" he snaps, his apparent annoyance bursting at the seams.

"nothing is wrong. there is nothing to fix, i just wanted to go home so i went home!" you yelled suddenly and rafe along with the couple of people still in the hallway stared at you in what could only be describe as utter surprise. "sorry..i'm sorry." you tried to collect whatever pride you still had and turned on your heel abandoning your food completely.

it started slowly. just slow breaths as you walked up the stairs, then that pit in your throat when you were on the third floor, followed by tears in your eyes that you were frantically trying to blink away on the fourth floor, and when you finally made it to green space, the tears were streaming down your cheeks and hazel was already standing up before you'd even made it to the table. "oh, no, sweetheart," she's pulling you in your arms and the dam just breaks and you're letting out everything you'd been holding in since that stupid bonfire. "it's okay, i'm so sorry, you're okay." her comforting whispers and gentle kisses are muffled and overshadowed by the way you're crying in her arms.

you feel ivy and devon's hands on your back, rubbing slow circles, "we got you," you feel a warm hug from behind and one on the side. you're completely cooped up, unable to even see anymore light, just little cracks. either way your vision is blurry with tears. "i w-wanna go h-home.." you hiccup in hazel's neck and you can feel her nodding. "we'll go home. we're going home."

hazel's parents are surprised to see the four of you home but when they see which state you're in, they barely question it. her mom orders take out, the junkiest junk food they can find, she calls your mom to tell her where you are, you pile onto the couch and they don't mention rafe once. you have a six-hour-long discussion about cryptozoology and the science behind mythical creatures.

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby @pogueprincesa let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3