#better than you bay bay <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[seeingstarks]

no one better than you baby

summary : you're in a moral dilemma on whether or not you should help adam turn on maxwell or the other way around. pairing : mjf x adam cole x afab!reader (use of wrestler names) cw : walked in on while getting dressed, angst if you squint, mention of anxiety, sexual suggestions, french-kissing, arm/ab touching, nicknames like babe/babygirl, basically wrestling fluff with a dash of smut! a/n : reblogs are very much appreciated! had this in the drafts for a week or so and finally had the inspo to finish it! enjoy! 💙 word count : 1,425 words tag list: @adamjf @josiewrites

"adam, no, we can't." you pleaded while looking over into his icy blue eyes contemplating on whether or not tonight was the night to help adam turn on maxwell.

you'd been his valet ever since undisputed era and glued to his hip however found yourself wandering after making the move to all elite. maxwell was an asshole and nothing but, he seemed like a changed man when better than you bay bay became a thing.

adam kept the good guy act up for the cameras but he'd secretly been pitching ideas to you for weeks. little did he know that the devil himself caught your eye more than once and you'd been sneaking off to tell him of adam's plans. the devil was always one step ahead but with your help he'd be two steps further.

everything went according to plan except when stepping foot into your private locker room away from the two men you trusted most in your life, one as a brother and the other as a sort of school-girl crush. surely everyone in their right mind had to be head over heels for the maxwell jacob friedman.

with a soft sigh, you took a seat infront of your cheap vanity. it was nothing much just a re-furnished shelf painted your favorite color, a few lights adorning the top and a mirror propped up against it with makeup scattered about.

however one thing was out of place.. or rather wasn't there to begin with. you picked up the small black box and gave it a slight shake, wondering what it contained inside. you should've known the gift was from maxwell when pulling at the burberry ribbon and revealing the contents inside to be a ring in just your size.

taking the shiny object out of the box, your eyes sparkled from the reflection off the lights and pure wonder of how much it cost, had to be a fortune. it looked exactly like his dynamite diamond ring only perfect for your finger.

you slid the ring on and smiled seeing your reflection in the mirror, of course it suited you well. once getting up from the seat, you had noticed a neatly folded piece of paper on the ground that must've fallen from the box.

inside read, "thought of you when i found this. the only person prettier and better than any diamond is you, baby. maybe you could use it against adam tonight?"

a slight warmth grew on your cheeks when reading the words, maxwell never called you pretty to your face. only things like baby, toots, or beautiful.. but you only took it as a joke in passing. there was this one time he called you babygirl and you will never let him hear the end of it.

you nearly jumped from your seat when you heard someone knocking at the door, luckily it was just a seamstress dropping off your outfit for the night. ever since maxwell and adam teamed up you had matching gear with them.

throwing off your shorts, you swiftly put on your wrestling bottoms and while whipping your shirt toward whatever corner of the room another knock was heard on the door, "c'mon, i'm just trynna' get dressed here!" you half-yelled with a huff and opened the door realizing you were only wearing a bra once you came face to face with adam.

"oh, uh i'll just wait a few minutes- promise i didn't see anything." you chuckled at adam's response and watched as he shut his eyes.

you went toward a private part of the room and threw your double clothesline shirt on with the matching jacket, "i'm dressed now, mr. undisputed your eyes won't be burned." you gave him a smile.

"so, have you given anymore consideration to helping me turn on maxwell tonight?" adam questioned but you were deep in thought thinking about the devil himself.

adam snapped his fingers infront of you, a sort of way to try and bring you back to reality, "uh, y/n you still there?"

"oh, yeah.. mhm. i've given it some consideration. maybe tonight isn't the right night to turn on him. he's just starting to act like a face.. and well we're trying to get the crowd on his side."

"exactly, y/n. tonight would be the perfect night for it.. but i understand if you're not ready. it's all in your hands." adam looked at you sincerely, you had a lot to consider since both men wanted you to turn on the other one and you hadn't even seen max in person tonight except in passing. whichever choice you made you hoped it wouldn't ruin any friendships.

"i'll make my choice when we go out there, see you in five." you assured as adam soon exited, you took it upon yourself to do the finishing touches on your outfit and makeup.

you dragged your feet against the backstage floor, scrunching your nose up at the sound it made. squeaky.. must've been cleaned recently. a familiar feeling arose in your stomach, that being of anxiety.

you were fast approaching both men and had a very important decision to make, not only for the two you loved most but for a future feud in the company.

with a heavy sigh, you glanced down at your ring finger which was usually not adorned with such a shiny jewel but maxwell had grown on you the past month or so.. and adam he'd been there for all your ups and downs. this moment was more than your personal relationships.. it was about wrestling itself and what the fans wanted but you couldn't bare the thought of hurting maxwell.

or could you? only time would tell.

lights flashed bright, pyro went off, the crowd had been cheering and booing all night and it was finally time for the main event.

mawell's music hit first and then it mashed up with a mix of adam's. then it was your time to shine, you posed with the men as maxwell instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, adam shooting him a knowing glare. a few rude members of the crowd were cat-calling you so maxwell took it upon himself to flip them off.

you were used to adam being cheered and mawwell always receiving a mix of boos and cheers however since the team up it was the best of both worlds.

you stood at ringside as the match went smoothly, cheering a little more for maxwell over adam and he seemed to take notice when taken advantage of in a shatter machine finisher. whoops.

in the end ftr still won over better than you bay bay despite your efforts of attempting to distract the referee but being careful enough not to get kicked out.

you made your way up the ring steps and hugged it out with both men, adam turning around and telling maxwell to hit him but instead it was you doing the dirty work.

one swift punch to the jaw, ring including left the crowd in gasps. even maxwell looked surprised for a moment or so while resting against the ropes in the corner or the ring.

he smirked deviously before standing up, "knew you'd make the right choice," he lowered his voice so only you could hear, "i see you took my advice now how about let's get outta' here and i take ya' on a proper date, babygirl?"

your eyes met with his chocolate ones, giving a nod. "yes. of course, maxwell. but first-"

before maxwell even had the chance to speak, you wrapped your arms and hand up around his muscly shoulders, dragging the other along his abs.

"don't forget we're in public baby- not that i mind but i don't wanna share you for our first time."

after listening you shushed him with a kissed which he deepened by wrapping his own strong arms around your finger, opening your mouth in response as he shoved his tongue down your throat, causing you to gasp for air.

you snaked your tongue around his, doing the same as a small moan escaped from the man's throat, "mm, babe."

you chuckled as the two of you eventually broke the kiss to catch a breath of air, still holding each other close. the crowd was off the rails already yelling about giving you and maxwell a ship name as you hid your blushing face into his shoulder.

"we're going to make a perfect wrestling couple."

"why just a wrestling couple?" you asked with a smirk.

"touché"

[skeletalheartattack]

im showing my friend clanker the awesome six eggs and single ice key i found today

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── hyunjin messes up and kkami helps him apologize

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff (might be the cutest thing i wrote recently)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: this is definitely inspired by the new book i'm obsessing over right now so pls enjoy and let me know what you think!! <33

“Well, well, look who finally remembered he has a loving partner missing him at home.”

You hear Hyunjin sigh on the other end, sheepish, obviously expecting you’d cut him some slack for disappearing for days, like talking to him wasn’t the best part of your day. Touring was hard, and he’s been insanely busy from day one – you get it. That’s why, your tone’s more playful than intended, only being able to let the phone ring for two heartbeats before rushing to answer and let his velvety voice bring sunshine back into your dull life.

“Hello, the absolute love of my life I think about daily.” He clears his throat, brushing over your comment in hopes you’re not truly upset he hasn’t called in so long. Two days weren’t a big deal, but for clingy people like you and him, going 48 hours without hearing what the other has been up to was torture. It was just enough time for insecurity to creep in, feeding you lies upon lies about how he’d forgotten your relationship and was currently in the process of replacing you with someone else, someone better and more worthy of owning his heart.

Your heart flutters, a grin finding its way onto features despite your attempts at stopping it. “Hello, Hyunjin.”

“Who the fuck is Hyunjin?”

No longer able to keep the happiness at bay, you burst out laughing, the aggravation clear as day in the absence of his usual pet name. Hyunjin was your baby, nothing else. His name only ever left your pretty lips you couldn’t wait to press against his only when the situation called for seriousness.

Settling down, you ignore his displeased huffing. “The guy who hasn’t called me in a week. You might know him.”

You’re teasing. You both know it, just like he knows that behind your words, the only genuine thing is the longing and the wish to have him close again, missing the steady beat of his heart and his familiar warmth that usually lulled you to sleep, badly. Hyunjin has always been great at reading between the lines, figuring you out easily, like you were nothing more than an unchallenging puzzle he could solve with his eyes closed.

“A week? I know I messed up, love, but it’s only been two days. Not even, just about 45 hours.” You hear sheets rustling on the other end, helping you picture him lounging about in the hotel bed, hair most likely still damp from his previous shower. For once, the time difference was not absurd, allowing you to stare wistfully at the moon with certainty the other was doing the same, sharing stories of your love and trusting she’ll keep them safe.

“You counted?” You giggle, making yourself more comfortable on the couch, right next to Kkami who is sleeping soundly.

“I’ve been counting the hours until I can see you again the second I stepped outside our apartment.” He confesses, voice suddenly heavy with emotion before he gasps, ruining what could have been a sweet moment. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”

Of course, you have. Time seemed to go by incredibly slowly whenever he wasn’t near, the increasing distance causing his magnetic pull to grow weaker each day, but never diminishing, never losing its hold on you. That was impossible.

“No.” You lie blatantly, leaning back against the couch casually, one hand moving to slowly pet Kkami’s head whose slumber gave him the perfect excuse to ignore you.

“Liar.”

For the first time in your life, the fact that he knew you like the back of his hand was annoying.

“Don’t change the subject! You’re still not in the clear for forgetting about me for two whole days, Hyunjin.” You’re not actually mad, just feeling a little bit neglected. Hyunjin has never gone MIA like that, without even texting you brief updates throughout the day just so you’ll know he was still alive and kicking. Your boyfriend was thoughtful, sweet, and considerate – the radio silence you got for the past two days was very unlike him.

“I didn’t forget.” He counters, and you’re sure he’s shaking his head vehemently, denying all of your accusations. “I could never forget, not in this lifetime or any others.”

“Liar.” You mock him, making a face he can’t see and tease you about like he’d usually do. “You could have texted, at least. Let me know you’d be busy.”

“I’m sorry, love.” His voice is soft, apology genuine as can be when he doesn’t try to justify himself or find excuses. Hyunjin is aware that if the roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way you’re feeling right now, the anxiety and worry eating at him from the inside and leaving behind a restlessness he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried to. And he does, to an extent. Not being able to contact you drove him on the brink of insanity, making him moodier and more difficult to work it, which was so unlike him.

“Can I talk to Kkami?” He adds, trying to make it up to you in his own, creative way you’ve come to love.

“What?” You can’t help but laugh, not sure you heard him right.

“Pass the phone to Kkami for a moment, please?”

Now you’re curious, wondering what that beautiful mind had in store for you this time. You’ve been dog-sitting Kkami since he left, sending him regular updates in hopes of brightening up his day and keeping the homesickness at bay. Your camera roll has been full of pictures and videos of Kkami - walking him, playing together and being cute just for Hyunjin’s delight. A small price to ensure your boyfriend’s everlasting happiness.

“Should I leave you two alone? Give you some privacy?”

He laughs, and you hear the sound of a bag zipping up. “Yes. This is just between us boys, sorry baby.”

Shaking your head with a smile, you do as he asks, lowering the phone close to Kkami’s ear like the pup could actually catch Hyunjin up on what’s been happening around the house since he left. At the sound of his owner’s voice, Kkami’s eyes open as his ears perk up, visibly excited to hear him after so long. With his tail waggling, Kkami listens attentively to whatever Hyunjin is telling him, sleep long forgotten as you start giggling next to him, not believing your eyes.

Kkami was not an affectionate dog, often biting or growling at your lover like he was sick of him. Hyunjin’s presence and fussing were a bore, the dog quickly growing tired of his excited nature, even though your boyfriend was the person he loved most in the world.

That’s exactly why, you’re taken aback when he sprints off the couch, running a lap around the living room before returning to jump at your feet, barking and licking the hand closest to him excitedly.

Dumbfounded, you bring the phone back to your ear laughing. “What did you say to him? He’s suddenly so happy to see me.”

“He’s groveling in my stead. I told him to show you how much I miss you.”

Your heart melts, and suddenly he’s all forgiven as tears well up in your eyes. “Hyun…”

“Actually, I asked him if he wanted a treat.” Your tears get absorbed right back as a laugh bubbles out of the both of you, with Kkami jumping into your lap to beg properly. “I guess he figured I wasn’t there to give him some, so now he expects them from you.”

“You set me up.” You say, voice laced with playfulness as you stand up, scooping Kkami with one hand to fulfill his request. A true glutton, he’d never forgive you if you denied him his beloved snacks.

“Maybe. But my words had the desired effect.” His tone is softer now, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re laughing.”

Yet, the joy didn’t reach its full potential, and never will with hundreds of miles between you. Happiness in its truest form found you in a handful of moments, and for most of them, Hyunjin was right by your side, fueling you with the love and devotion he held for you and you alone. He made you happy like nobody else, helping you see color even on the darkest days. Your beloved loved painting, that’s what he did, you just never thought he could bring forth his talent and make you see beauty in everything, guiding you to see the world through his eyes that always sparkled like he held the entire galaxy in them.

“Baby.”

Hyunjin gasps so loudly, almost like he is on the verge of bursting with happiness, matching Kkami’s energy to a T, ready to jump through the phone to feel your love and affection again.

“Can we facetime? I miss your beautiful face.” You add once Kkami is back on his own paws, devouring the stinky treat in your hand as you crouch to his level.

“Facetime? Love, I’ll literally catch the earliest flight and be there in record time! This little screen isn’t cutting it anymore, I need to see you with my own eyes before I get so desperate I start walking back just to be in your arms!”

And that is your cue to get on a plane first and finally visit your boyfriend before he keeps his word and ends up at your doorsteps with nothing but a duffle bag and a sob story about how much he missed you to justify his careless actions.

[yelenasbraid]

home to me — joe burrow

summary — bengals are now 0-3, and joe couldn’t feel worse about it. luckily, you’re there to help pick up his broken pieces

warnings — fem!reader, major angst, fluff, crying joey (SORRY)

note — surprise! and don’t come after me!

YOU WATCH WITH AN ACHING HEART the last 4 seconds of the game. you wished so badly for a miracle, for an interception, for something to turn that 33 into anything higher than a 38. offense looked great, defense? you could do better than they did without the padding.

that was your bitterness talking.

you filed out of the stadium and down to where you usually met joe; outside the locker room. you knew that this wasn’t going to be the celebration you hoped for. you knew that joe wasn’t going to have that boyish grin on his face, and it broke your heart. you felt like you haven’t seen joe smile in weeks.

you stood there, anxiously swaying as you watched player after player shuffle in from the field. those who noticed you gave you a small, sad smile. others kept going, angry at themselves and at the world.

joe appeared at the end of the crowd of players, as he usually did, with his head down. his shoulders sagged, but it wasn’t until he looked up and locked eyes with you that you saw everything.

joe was devastated, and rightfully so.

he parted from the staff member and walked over to you, a small pep in his step as he did so. no words were spoken as he threw his arms around you, bringing you as close as he could get you. you embraced him back, cradling his head as he nuzzled into your neck.

he’s never done this before, even after a win. for joe to express this level of emotion right after a game was unusual. it worried you, but maybe you were overthinking. you hoped you were.

joe separated from you, sniffling and keeping the tears at bay. you held onto his hands and watched him with a worried eye.

“i’m fine,” he answered your silent question. you knew he wasn’t, and he knew that you knew. that much was obvious.

“ok,” you hummed, but that’s all you were going to say right now. you didn’t believe him, and he knew that. joe gave you a single look, his eyes opening a gateway into his heart, the depth of his sadness. he was beating himself up, and pretty badly too.

“i might be a minute, go on home. i’ll see you later,” he told you. driving separately wasn’t abnormal, sometimes you had to. especially if it was an away game. what was odd was the way he seemed to stick around, unable to move his feet.

“ok, i love you,” you reminded him. his face softened, letting your words permeate through the tension in his chest. he just needed to make it through the press conference.

“i love you,” he replied. he gave you a lingering kiss on the forehead before he stepped away. he didn’t want to, though. he wanted to stay where it was safe, where it was comfortable. he wanted to stay with you because he didn’t have to explain himself. somehow, you always knew.

—

you were showered and in your pajamas by the time joe got home. you sat on the couch, blanket draped over your legs and your phone in your hands. you saw the comments, the videos of disappointed fans. you saw the posts all about how much of an upset the loss was. the more you read on, the more you realized that the fans didn’t think joe was at fault. they’d be right, it wasn’t his fault.

your eyes flicked up from your phone as joe made his way further into the house. his footsteps are heavy, as is the rest of his body. he’s exhausted, and there’s only a thread keeping him from falling apart.

“babe?” you called out to him, and he slowly turned his eyes towards you. his eyes were puffy, his face was red; did he cry in the car on the way home? silence met your questioning tone, but it did stop him in his tracks.

usually after a bad game, or a loss, joe needed space. he’d trudge up to his office and stay there for a few hours, pouring over film and noting strategies they needed to try next time. he was still going to do those things, but tonight was different. you knew it was the second he hugged you like he did after the game.

“i’m fine,” he replied, his voice breaking. joe didn’t like crying, in fact, he hated it. but he grew used to it, learning that just because he cried didn’t mean he was any less or he was weak. it took him a while for him to trust you with that vulnerability, but once he did, the flood gates couldn’t be locked tight for long.

“you’re not,” you hummed softly. he knew he wasn’t, and he wasn’t trying hard enough to hide it. he screwed his eyes shut, trying to make the tears go away, but all it did was make his eyes burn more.

“don’t run away from me, don’t shut me out,” you stood up from your spot on the couch, slowly walking over to him. he was battling himself as he stood there, tears sliding down his raw cheeks. his mind was waging a war against him, telling him lies about himself and about how he played.

“why?” he asked you.

“why what?”

“i’ve lost three games, and i’ve treated you horribly after two of them. why are you still with me?” he voiced his vulnerability, his fear. his heart told him you wouldn’t leave him because of a losing streak, but the malicious whispers in his mind told him a different story.

“one, you apologized to me and we talked about it,” you started, “secondly, joey, i’m still with you because you are the love of my life. you’re there to pick me up when i’m down, you’re able to make me laugh, you’ve helped me put pieces of myself back together that you didn’t break in the first place. you’re protective, and you’re a fighter, that’s why i’m with you and will always be with you,” you finished, peering into his eyes. you saw your words sink in and start to meld him back together, but it wasn’t enough.

“i’ve lost three games, three. no matter how hard i fight, no matter how well i think i did, i can’t seem to win a damn game!” joe spoke through gritted teeth, his hands going through his hair. he’s frustrated, he’s angry, and he’s beating himself up. he’s not blaming the team, he’s blaming himself.

“all of these people, all of the fans, you, i’ve disappointed them. i’ve disappointed you, i promised myself that i was going to bring home a superbowl ring, for both of us, and if we keep losing-”

“stop, joey,” you interrupted his spiral with a soft hand to his chest. he’s panting, out of breath from the amount of anxiety he’s giving himself.

“listen to me, look at me,” you tilt his chin so his eyes meet yours, feeling the soft starts of scruff against your finger tips, “you did not disappoint me, and you most certainly didn’t disappoint the fans watching you tonight. you played well, you made decisive plays, you were quick to release the ball. you did your job and did it well. and you will get that super bowl ring, i believe that, and so do you. you’ve beat the odds before, you’ve showed the world to never underestimate joe burrow, the small town kid from athens, ohio. so, show them again. show them what this kid can do,” you went on, shining light on the things that made joe joe.

“i’ve failed that kid,” he whispered, afraid to say it out loud. he’s fought so hard his whole life, and he still fought. joe’s never given up and he doesn’t plan on it, but the anger hasn’t settled in yet. the vengeance hasn’t taken root yet.

“no, no love you didn’t, you haven’t. you didn’t fail him when you tore your acl, you didn’t fail him when you went to the superbowl, you didn’t fail him when you went to the afc championship, you didn’t fail him amidst the injuries and the doubts. that kid would do anything to play football, and that’s exactly what you’re doing,” you told him, cradling his cheek with your hand. you could see the crack in his hard exterior, the way his blue eyes showed the depths of his soul. you could see glimpses of baby joey, the anxiety that ran deep, that threatened to take hold.

when joe looked at you, that anxiety slithered away. it tucked its tail and ran; you were his god given solace. he felt at home, he felt the warmth and the safety that radiated off of you.

“what did i do to deserve you?” he asked, melting into your touch.

“absolutely nothing,” you replied. you took his hand, guiding him back to the couch. you sat down, resting your back against the arm rest. you didn’t have to offer him, joe just found himself laying against your chest, his arms wrapped around you. you wrapped your arms around him, kissing the top of his head and threading your fingers through his frosted tips.

“i’m so proud of you, you know that?” you asked.

“i do,” he replied. he melted into you, relaxing against the feeling of your fingers against his scalp and your steady heartbeat in your chest.

“panthers don’t stand a chance,” he mumbled against your chest, making you laugh.

“show em who’s boss, baby,” you chuckled. joe would always come home to you, which wasn’t always physically. sure, home was a place, but it was also a person. you were his home, and he was home as long as he was with you.

i wrote this in one sitting!!! it took some editing and some rethinking, but i’m pretty proud of it! this may not be totally accurate joe but whatevs. enjoy this lovely, angsty piece!

[httpdwaekki]

chronic | h.j.

summary: you can't sleep because of your achy joints but luckily hannie is there to make you feel better.

wc: 1.5k

warnings: mentions of chronic pain (based on my personal experience), nudity (nothing sexual), han being a sweetie, (i don't mention anything about hair but lets pretend it doesnt get wet thanks <3) gn!reader (i tried to not describe any anatomy but lmk if i missed it.) not proofread.

a/n: happy b-day hannie <33 self indulgent for for my favorite quokka, but i really liked writing for him so i'm gonna try n write more for him (and everyone else!). i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3.

my library | fundraiser

(pictures not mine! credit to owners!)

you are exhausted, you wanted nothing more than to just fall into a blissful slumber.

however your body had other ideas. your joints felt like they were on fire, more specifically your wrist and elbow. nothing helped except keeping your arm completely still, which would be fine if you could get comfortable but you just couldn’t.

jisung was laid next to you, wrapped around you like a koala, his face perfectly slotted into your neck. you wanted to enjoy this, you rarely got time with him so you cherish every moment you had with him.

but honestly all you wanted to do was cry, you felt guilty and at this point all of your joints felt like they were on fire. luckily almost as if he read your mind, he rolled over in his sleep onto the other side of your bed.

you let out a sigh of relief, trying to keep your tears at bay as you carefully move off of the bed. you make your way to your drawer pulling out underwear and a comfy shirt.

you tiptoe your way to the bathroom, quietly closing the door leaning against it. as soon as your back touches the towel hung behind the door, the floodgates open.

you place your clothes on the counter, placing your hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. the shaky movements from your sobs agitating your joints further. couple minutes pass before you pull yourself together. 

you look into the mirror finding your distressed reflection, in the dimly lit bathroom from your night light. the soft light reflects the tear stains on your chubby cheeks. you let out a sigh, wiping your face before moving to turn the shower on. 

you make sure to set it to hot to soothe your joints. you sit down on the toilet, feeling too fatigued and achy to stand for much longer. you rub your arm gently, hoping it’ll ease the pain. once you see the steam start to rise from behind the curtain you carefully remove your shirt, dropping it to the floor.

you hold onto the wall as you get up, gently pushing your shorts and underwear down. they pool at your ankles before you step out of them, making your way to the shower.

you move the shower curtain back before stepping in, cautious of the wet floor. you move under the hot water, letting the water wash over you, soothing your joints. 

as you sit under the water you think about how you’re losing even more of the limited time with your boyfriend. the tears start once again, feeling and overwhelming urge to be held by him. 

unbeknownst to you, jisung had awoken from your lack of presence in your bed. “자기야?” he calls groggily, rubbing his eyes. his chubby cheeks on full display as he realizes your absence.

you soft sobs catch his ear, immediately becoming alert, throwing the blanket off of him in search for you. he hears the sound of water that leads him to the bathroom. he gently cracks the door, greeted by steam flowing out of the room.

you cries now clear as he steps in the bathroom, closing the door behind him without a sound. he quickly undresses before he pulls back the curtain stepping in behind you. you were unaware of the presence behind you, occupied with the sobs coming out of your mouth.

you jump as you feel a soft touch on your arm, whipping around to find a bare jisung. “hey it’s just me 자기.” your wide eyes find his, tears falling faster now. 

he immediately pulls you to him, wrapping his arms around you. “sh sh, you’re okay.” you wrap your stiff arms around him, tucking your face into his neck. your body shakes against his as sobs rack your body.

you both stay there for a moment before you feel pain shoot through your arm. “ah” you wince, pulling away, gripping your arm. you move it under the soothing water, fat tears roll down your cheeks.

he carefully rubs your arm, trying to soothe the pain in your joints. you lay your head on his shoulder as he continues his movements under the warm water. he places kisses to your head, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. 

the pain slowly subsided, you lifted your head to meet his eyes. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you.” you sniffle, carefully wiping your tears. he shakes his head, cupping your chubby cheeks, rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

“don’t ever apologize for that, i just wish you would’ve done it sooner.” it was your turn to shake your head, placing a hand on his wrist. “no you need your rest, i’m fine.” his eyes become glossy at your words.

“you were not fine,” he whispers in disbelief, “you were sobbing in the shower at 3am, nothing about that is fine 자기.” you look down, feeling a bit embarrassed. he lifts your face, his boba eyes meeting yours.

“please lean on me baby, that’s what i’m here for.” you nod before he pulls you into him before he steps you back under the warm water. he wraps his arms around you, gently pulling your head to his shoulder once more. 

you both stay under the water for a while before the water starts turning cool. he reaches behind you, turning the water off, placing a kiss to the side of your head, wrapping his arms around you. “i’m gonna grab your towel okay?” he whispers into your hair.

you nod against him, before he places one last kiss to your head, pulling away carefully stepping out of the shower. he quickly wraps his towel around his waist before grabbing yours, he walks back over, pulling the shower curtain back.

he holds his hand out to help you step out onto the shower mat. once your feet are planted on the ground he begins to dry you off, being mindful of your joints as he works. once you’re dry, he leads you over to the sink before hanging up your now wet towel.

he grabs your underwear, bending down to help you step into them. you grab his shoulders as you carefully step into the fabric. he pulls them up your legs, placing a soft kiss to each thigh once it was secure around your waist.

he stands up, grabbing the shirt and slipping it over your head, booping your nose as the fabric dropped around your shoulders. you give him a small smile, giggling as you scrunch your nose. “there’s my baby.” he smiles, placing a kiss to your cheek before fixing your shirt.

he helps you carefully slip your arms into the sleeves before collecting your discarded clothes, leading you back to your bedroom. he tosses your dirty laundry in the basket as he passes. he leads you to the bed, where he pulls the blanket back for you, letting you slowly sit on the bed.

once you get comfortable he pulls the blanket over you, “do you need any medicine?” you thought about it for a second before he spoke. “i’ll grab it just in case, put it next to you with some water.” your cheeks warm at his actions, “thank you,” you mumble, nodding your head slightly.

he quickly goes to your drawers, pulling out underwear and sweatpants, slipping them on before tossing the towel while walking out of the door. a few moments later he comes back in with your medicine, water and electrolyte drink.

he places the water and medicine on the bedside table, twisting off the top, handing it to you. you sit up, giving him a confused look before grabbing the drink. “because you were crying so you’re dehydrated and you’re gonna wake up with a headache and an even worse flare up.” 

you pause for a moment processing what he just said before pulling him down to you. you kissing him for a moment before you pull away, “what was that for?” he asks, out of breath. “i love you so much, i don’t deserve you.” you say catching yours.

“don’t ever say that again, you deserve the world.” he places another kiss to your lips before rounding the bed to his side. you smile before drinking the bottle in your hand, slowly drinking the liquid.

you take a break, catching your breath as he places his hand on your bare thigh, rubbing soothing circles to your skin. “slow down 자기야, don’t chug it, you’ll get sick.” he says softly, watching you. you nod before slowly drinking the rest of the drink before capping the bottle.

he sits up as you place the empty bottle, lifting the blanket, letting you lay down, before placing the blanket back over you.

he lays down next to you, rubbing soft circles on your arm, placing a soft kiss to your skin, “goodnight my baby, i love you.” you smile, reaching down to grab his hand, placing a kiss to his skin before lacing your fingers together. 

“goodnight my sweet boy, thank you for everything, i love you.” he gently squeezes your hand before speaking, “you don’t have to thank me.” he mumbles into your arm, both of your drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

do not edit, repost or translate.

[hoshigray]

Alright, y'all, here's the plan: you're not quite aware of what Toji does for work, yet you keep quiet. But one night, the man comes home bleeding, and you can't keep your worries to yourself anymore. However, for your protection, Toji isn't ready to reveal his assassin business to you. And, in the heat of the moment, ends up saying something that hurts you instead...

A/n: (Reuploaded bc I forgot smthn) This prompt was picked from a poll to celebrate the 300+ followers milestone (pssst tysm for 450+ you lovelies :D) two weeks back. Truthfully, I don't think this is my best work after proofreading, but I did my best. Probably bc 1) it's longer than I intended, and 2) I procrastinated waaaaay too much with this. I don't even think I made sense halfway through, lol, but fuck it, we ball. Anyways, like last time, there is art drawn by me (@hoshigaby) but it'll be found deep in the fic :33

I hope you enjoy the ride and reblogs + replies are much appreciated!! Also, don't be alarmed that Y/n in the drawing looks of a dark complexion, feel free to use your imagination if it doesn't suit you. But do not edit it; be an adult and ignore it if it's not your taste.

Cw: Toji x fem!reader - arguing/yelling - fingering (fem! receiving) - mating press - Daddy kink - first Toji is sour, then he's sweet bc he's whipped for you :) - clitoral play (pressing down and a pinch) - praise - breast fondling + nipple play - pet names (angel, baby, darlin', honey, kid, mama/ma, princess, sweetheart/sweetie) - Megumi mean-mugging his father while Tsumiki and Shiu Kong tell him to do better lol - mentions of blood and stab wound; isn't fully healed so reopens.

Wc: 5.8k

"Uhh, are you sleeping on the couch?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"...Why??"

You scrunch your brow at your phone, looking at the two people you're talking to through the screen. "I know you're not about to get on my case over where I'm sleeping."

On the L-shaped couch lay you, cuddled up with a fluffy blanket and memory foam pillow, one hand holding your phone while another wrapped around a stuffed plushy. You were on a video call with your best friends: Utahime and Mei Mei.

Utahime, lying on her bed with a face mask, replied to you. "Oh, I'm definitely getting on your case because it's supposed to be the other way around!"

"True, but I like the couch anyways." You puff at the woman who's not satisfied with your answer. "Plus, I'm on the L-part of the couch, so it's practically like a bed!"

Your other friend, Mei Mei, chuckles at her screen. Icy blue hair pulled up in a bun with reading glasses positioned atop her forehead, probably counting her tips on her desk like she always does before bed. "My my, this is the fourth night this week. What did your man say to make you this upset?"

Memories of what happened before come back to you, and so does the exhausting irritation you've been trying to keep at bay.

It was a quiet night like this one as the rain fell hard on the silent streets. You've just put Tsumiki and Megumi to sleep and waited in the living room, watching a movie to pass the time. It was pretty late into the night when you heard the door open as drowsiness settled in. Nevertheless, you got up to greet the man you'd been waiting for coming from the entrance, but you weren't prepared for the sight that instantly woke you up.

Toji Fushiguro, groaning and leaning against the wall with his black jean jacket drenched from the rain. A hand was clenched on the left side of his torso, deep red tarnishing his plain white shirt. He was heaving in an attempt to even his breathing, but when he caught a glimpse of you standing before him, he was quick to try and play it off with a worn-out grin. "Hey, baby." His familiar deep voice was strained in subtle agony.

Worry bubbles within, and you rush towards him. "Oh my God, Toji, what happened!?" You remind yourself to not be too loud as the children are still asleep, so you rely on whisper yellings while walking him up to your shared bedroom.

Even in the room, Toji doesn't explain himself. Just silent hushes and cajoles that he's alright. "I'm fine, honey. Just tell me where's the first aid box." Pointing at the bathroom cabinet, you watch him leave your side to grab the kit. The crimson spilling from him is caused by a stab wound he reveals when he sits on the bathtub, lifting his shirt. You can feel your eyes water, imagining the pain he's going through when he hisses from putting on rubbing alcohol on the gash.

The words you want to say feel so forbidden. Your fingers fidget amongst themselves with the irregular beat of your chest. Don't say it, Y/n. Keep your mouth shut. Don't—

"Is this from work?"

Green eyes shoot back in your direction, and you immediately feel yourself sinking into a pool of regret.

Talk of Toji's occupation wasn't something you brought up much. Even at the beginning of your relationship, he didn't indulge in any insights about what he does, so you eventually quit after a few failed attempts. However, with all the nights he's come home while you sleep or the new scars you point out yet are brushed off, your anxiousness for him keeps festering. And seeing him with his own blood on his hands made you wonder how many nights he has pulled off doing such without your knowledge.

Toji's eyes go back to his wound. "Don't worry 'bout it." The stern tone of his voice has your blood turn cold. He didn't want to entertain this, especially in the wee hours of the night.

And yet you still persist. "No, Toji, I'm serious." You can see him glare at you through the raven bangs shading his forehead. A warning. But it doesn't stop you. "I'm getting worried about you."

From there was when the argument came. Every point you've made to him was shut down at once. His cold responses pierced you. Usually, you'd do what you can to avoid this type of confrontation. But now, it hurts even more when he doesn't cooperate with you, your concerns disregarded like rubbish.

"Damn it, Y/n!" Toji barks at you, seething through the physical pain as a fist bangs hard on the bathroom cabinet. "Why's it so hard for you to stay out of this?"

"Well, if you would tell me things instead of pushing me out the way, then maybe I wouldn't have to!" At this point, you're fighting the tears from falling. Your face hot with frustration, but you still speak. "Toji, I've done so much for you and the kids, and I—"

"No one told you to do—"

"Yet I STILL do!" It's your turn to yell. "I care about you deeply, same with Tsumiki and Megumi. I don't ask for much, Toji. But I want you to open your life to me just a little, even when you're hurt like this!"

His emerald eyes remain rigid despite your pleas to him. And what he said next had you still to the core. You can recall the beat of your heart corrupting your senses while the tears stride down.

"If you were goin' to be a thorn on my side like this, I wouldn't have let you be in it in the first place."

"He said WHAT!!??" Utahime shrieks after you retell the situation to your friends.

You nod your head. "I just looked at him, and he looked at me. Then I turned, picked my pillow up, and headed downstairs to this couch."

To say the dark-haired woman was livid was an understatement. "And tell me WHY this fucker isn't the one sleeping on this couch, again??"

"Even if I did tell him to sleep on the couch, he probably would say something like, 'Tch, why should I? I pay bills for this damn house,' and yadda, yadda." This is true, apart from the man being injured, so having him move would've been immoral. "Plus, I just really wanted to get outta the room, so I went ahead and moved myself out."

"So? You pay bills too, what the hell!? Good God, Y/n," Utahime shakes her head. "You sure we can't pummel this dude?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Besides, I'm getting used to ignoring him when I see him around the house. But, oh my God, guys, his kids," the phone panned down to the plush toy and the pink, fluffy blanket. "Miki saw me sleeping here the other morning and gave me this blanket. And Gumi — he's such a sweetie. He gave me his favorite froggy toy to sleep with to scare off his dad from 'bothering me in my dreams.' "

"Hmm, how adorable." Mei Mei comments. "Funny how such darlings can come from a guy like that."

Utahime nods rapidly and throws in her opinion. "Listen, Y/n, you shouldn't think you outta be in every part of that man's life. Even so, he should at least know how to compromise. I mean, come on, you take care of him, the kids, the house, and go to work with us. All of that just for you to sleep on a couch!?"

"You're not gonna let this couch thing go, aren't you?" The pale blue-haired woman chuckles again, and Utahime sighs. "But she's right, Y/n. It takes a certain kind of person to have the patience to do what you do in a relationship with a single father and two children. I'm sure Utahime would've left with all her hair out."

The dark-haired one gets up from her bed and takes her device with her, heading to the bathroom to finish her skin care. "Now, why am I the one used as an example?"

"Because you're the most vocal about a relationship that isn't yours." A sly smile is painted on Mei Mei's face after she hears a 'hmph!' from the other as Utahime removes the mask and washes her face. "My point is that you like this man — love him even. But that love shouldn't cost you to be so emotionally drained. Perhaps he understands this, except it wasn't the perfect moment for you two to express yourselves. Maybe talk to him when you two stop the silent treatment."

All you do is hum aimlessly, too wrapped in what your friend said to give a proper response. Then you yawn, your body signaling you to finally rest. "I'll sleep on that thought. Night, girlies~~" You wave and send kisses to the other two. They do the same as you leave the video call, placing the phone on the coffee table and snuggling up with the blanket and plush toy.

You try to distract yourself by thinking of what you'll do tomorrow. You gotta get up and make breakfast for Tsumiki and Megumi before waking them up, then head to the station and take the bus to work. Maybe you can finally try that new café close by with Mei Mei and Utahime for lunch. And when you return home, you should whip up something fun for the kids to eat.

Perhaps, make something for Toji since he sometimes forgets to feed himself when you're not around. Or if he's leaving for work, wish him a safe trip back home like always. And...if he's down for it...you can find the right time......to talk...about......

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The moment you closed your eyes, it felt as though you were sleeping on your own bed again. When you turn to your side, your body descends into the feeling of cold sheets beneath you. It was pretty comfy! Plus, the blanket—

Wait...Sheets?

Your eyes slowly open to the sight of bedsheets underneath you. Navigating out of the sleepy stupor, you make out parts of your surroundings to know that you're not in the living room anymore. You slowly rise up to face the door of the bedroom. Your shared bedroom.

A sudden cough alerts you, forced as if to grab your attention. A chill crawls up your spine. Oh God, no. You turn to the side to see the man accompanying his side of the bed. And there he was, Toji, lying on his side with his head resting on a hand, looking dead at you. His raven hair looked damp from a recent shower, sporting only a grey wifebeater and dark sweatpants.

"Hey," is all he says to you. No smirk and no nickname followed with the greeting. Just a simple address to you with his green eyes softly watching yours. You almost fall into their inviting spell the more you look at them.

Nonetheless, it's not compelling enough since you remember he's the man you fought with four days ago — the same man you weren't prepared to see right now. You quickly turn away from him and lift the comforter to exit the room. However, Toji grabbed your wrist before your feet could touch the floor, his grip too strong for you to pull away from him.

You avoid eye contact with him, your back facing him. "Toji, let me go. I'm going to sleep."

"Then sleep."

"On the couch, Toji." You try and pull again. Nothing.

"Fuck that, just sleep here. I didn't carry you up here for nothin'."

You shake your head as you exhale through your nose. Of course, he carried me here. "Whatever happened to you not wanting me to be a part of your life?"

The words that left your lips surprised you and the grip around your wrist tightens. You didn't mean to say them, but it was the truth because they were his own words. Or did you?

Still facing away from Toji, you're unable to see his reaction. Oh shit, is he angry? Is he going to let me go after that?

"Darlin', please..." His deep voice hushed for only you to hear. "I just really need you with me here. Just for tonight...." His hold lessens, leaving you to decide whether you should stay.

The silence is uncomfortable for both of you — especially for Toji, who has you where he wants you to be, where you're supposed to be. As seconds pass when he doesn't hear from you, the nervousness that used to exist before your relationship rises back into the pit of his stomach. And his soul drops down when you remove your wrist from his hand.

Though, to his surprise, your hand lifts the comforter up while your legs move back on top of the mattress. You lay back down with a sigh, your back still facing Toji. "Did you give Miki back her blanket?"

Toji exhales quietly, situating himself back on his side of the bed. "Yeah, and Megumi with his toy."

You hum, and the silence fills the room once more.

Toji looks at nothing but your figure next to him, watching the rise and fall of your shoulder as you breathe silently, your face nestled comfortably on the pillow. To think it's been half a week since he last saw you in this room is hard to believe.

That night when you left him really stuck with him. The image of your face covered in tears was all he envisioned, the same with you grabbing your pillow and exiting the room. After tending his stab wound, he went down to talk it out. Yet when Toji saw you sleeping soundly on the couch with dried tears painting your pretty face, he didn't dare wake you up and just went to bed.

And it was worse the following days. Not only did he have you avoiding him at every chance, but he had to deal with the judgmental looks of his children. Never in his life has he seen Megumi give him glares that meant business. If looks could kill, Toji would be finished. And Tsumiki, his sweet little girl, now pesters him about being nice to Y/n, saying he should think about their feelings and apologize.

But what about his feelings? Does no one understand that he was just trying to keep you out of business that you didn't need to fret over? He's very aware that his job is not a normal one. It's dangerous, and anyone around him can get hurt or worse. Hence, keeping you away from this part of his life keeps you and his family safe. If not knowing he's an assassin keeps you from harm's way, why change that.

At least...that's what he thought, not what he said.

Even Shiu Kong, his handler, had something to say after telling him what had happened during lunch today. "Wow. I knew you were trash, but I didn't know you were that dumb, too." The man snickers when Toji shoves a middle finger his way. Shiu lights another cigarette after discarding the one he finishes. "Well, how were they supposed to know you were watching out for them? If someone you love comes to your front door bloody and sick, whose safety are you worrying about?"

Toji says nothing to that, letting the other man resume speaking some sense into him after taking a long sig from his cigarette.

"Look. I can't promise that this angel of yours wants to stay with you after what you said. That's all up to them. But until they decide that, I hope your dumbass realizes when someone sticks with you literally through blood and pain, that's someone who cares for you to the Moon and back. Not saying you should tell them what you do, but a nice word or two of comfort is all they need. If you're not that big of an idiot, reconcile and let them know you care about them."

"...Reconcile and let them know you care about them..."

If there's one thing that Toji has trouble with, it's knowing how to use his words. It was a tiny problem in the earlier stages of your relationship, but as time flew, you could guess how much the tall man cherishes you by his actions rather than words.

The older man knows that you know he loves you. But now, when he's pushed into a position where words are necessary to portray his real feelings for you, he feels stumped.

"If you were goin' to be a thorn on my side like this, I wouldn't have let you be in it in the first place."

Toji grimaces at his own words replaying in his head. Why the fuck did I say that?

"Whatever happened to you not wanting me to be a part of your life?"

Your words ring in his mind. Why did I fuckin' say that for? What the hell is wrong with me? What did—

"Toji?"

He returns to reality, eyes moving back to your still silhouette.

"I know you're still awake, so I'm gonna ask this." Toji braces himself for whatever your soft voice muttered. "Whatever job you're doing, is it a dangerous one?"

Shit. The dreaded talk is here, and Toji cannot escape it.

"Yeah."

"Are you good at your job?"

"It's the only thing I'm good at."

You nod your head aimlessly to his answer. Then you turn around to face the anxious older man. The moonlight peaking through the window blinds illuminates your face beautifully while Toji's breathing slows.

"I don't think that's true," you continue to answer. "You're good at being a father to Tsumiki and Megumi. Not the best, but a decent one nonetheless. You're also good at caring for me; letting me live with you and your family proves that. And lastly," Toji gulps with a dry throat.

"You're good at loving. You say you're lousy at it, but there's love in everything you do for me. It's there when you look at me whenever you think I'm unaware. Or when you silently grab my hand when in crowded areas. Or," a small chuckle exits from you. "When you carry me up from downstairs to the bedroom."

Toji's jade eyes lock in with yours, waiting for you to avert your gaze away from him. But you don't. You keep looking at him. You keep spoiling him. This type of recognition is something Toji never thought he deserved, so you giving it to him so effortlessly makes his growing guilt eat him alive.

"I care about you so much, Toji." You shift closer to Toji and bring a hand to his cheek, causing the man to lift his brows. Your face is only a few inches away from his. "What happened yesterday really scared me. All I could think about was the wound and all the scars you have. Where they all came from and how deep they are. Or......you never coming back."

"Baby..." Toji absently refers to you with a sweet name, placing his big hand on top of yours on his cheek. He lets you finish.

"I know you can't guarantee coming back to me unscathed, but I just want you to promise me something: please let me know you'll be okay. When you're gone, I can only hope you make it back home safely. So, just promise to not get yourself killed." A sheepish smile is used to ease the serious tone. "Even if I'm not in your life, I'm sure Tsumiki and Megumi would be pretty upset to not have you around."

Toji scoffs. "Trust me, I'm sure they'd leave me the moment you step out the door." That makes you laugh, and it has the man swooning hearing it. His hand moves to your cheek, and you allow him to stroke it with a thumb. "And I wouldn't blame 'em. Havin' such a beautiful and loving angel slip through my fingers?"

"Toji..."

"I'm sorry for what I said and scarin' you like that. If you aren't here with me, as part of my life and all, then I don't think I can't make a promise like that. You're too good fr' me, and I'm sorry if I didn't seem to appreciate you until now."

And you know he's genuine with his plea, his green eyes gauging your reaction to see if he's worth another chance. All you do is sigh and lift yourself up, wipe his wet bangs from his forehead, and kiss it. "Not the best apology, but I accept it."

He drones, relishing the feeling of your lips on him again. "So, are we cool, kid?"

"Yeah," you peer down at him with a smile, and he does the same. "We're cool. However, if you ever yell at me again, don't be surprised when I pack my bags."

"Oh yeah?" Toji raises a brow. "I'll be careful, then."

"You better." Hushed chuckles are shared to comfort the silence, enjoying the closeness between you two that felt like forever to have again. Just the two of you with you giggling above him and the light from the window cascading an ethereal glow to your features. Your teeth shied behind pretty lips, lips he wanted to kiss.

And you catch him looking. You notice him wanting you, needing you. Just as much as you need him. You slowly lean down to his face, planting your soft lips on his rigid pair.

Toji's surprised by the action for a moment, but he moans into your mouth and pulls you into him closer. The kiss starts off nice and slow yet quickly changes to one filled with passion and desire. Teeth clashing, tongues exchanging, sweet moans paired with aroused groans.

As you two are lost in each other's lips, Toji carefully maneuvers you on your back with him on top of you. Your legs find purchase around his waist as he rocks into your core, rocking your hips together in a steady rhythm by the second.

His hand snakes down to your lower region, fingers brushing past your pajamas and onto your panty-covered vulva. The intrusion has you breaking the kiss with heavy breaths filling the silent, moonlit room. He busses your chin down to your neck as shaky mewls slip out your mouth.

"Haaah, Toji, we shouldn't. It's late—Hmmm..." Your whimpers don't stop him from pulling your pajamas and undergarments off.

"It's okay, sweetheart, lemme make it up to you." He says in-between kisses on your clavicle, pulling up your shirt to reveal your bare chest. His free hand fondles a breast before his mouth goes for the other. "Let Daddy take care of you..."

The sudden combination of his thick fingers intruding between your nether folds and his mouth sucking and licking your sensitive nipple has you whining in bliss, your hand gripping his wet raven hair resulting in a satisfied groan from the older man. Toji missed this — missed you — close to him, under him on this bed.

One finger plays with your wet chasm for a few moments before it's inserted inside. A shriek is let out as your cunt adjusts to the digit. "Mmmph! Oh God, Daddy, your fingers...Ahhh!"

A soft 'pop' leaves from Toji's mouth when pulled back from sucking on your nipple, his tongue lapping around the sensitive nob. "What's that, mama? My fingers feelin' good?" You nod rapidly, but that's not the answer Toji's looking for, so he bites on your nipple gingerly yet hard enough for you to jolt. "Daddy wants your words, angel."

"Yesss, yes, your fingers feel soo good," You mewl to him, and Toji chuckles dangerously low while rewarding you with another digit in your slick-coated hole. His abrupt middle finger joins his forefinger in attacking your velvety walls, and your voice shifts higher in ecstasy.

The sounds of Toji's tongue licking around your nipple coincide with the squelches between his fingers and your gushy slit. Your brain starts to short-circuit.

"Ahh! Ahhh! Daddy, I can feel—I'm gonna," Toji's fingers pick up the pace. You're so close to release, you can feel it.

"Gonna be good and cum on Daddy's fingers, right, baby?"

"Mhmmm, I wanna co—Oh, Jesus, I wanna come. Hoooooh..."

"Then go ahead, princess. Mess 'em up." Toji comes up to kiss your forehead as his fingers go irrationally fast, and a thumb sneaks to press down on your unattended clit. With a choked cry, you spasm and cream on his thick digits. He watches you finish, loving the image of your head pushed back on pillows and your body arching towards him.

He dismisses himself from you once you're done, licking his fingers of your essence and taking off his wifebeater and pants. The image of his free cock has you biting your lower lip in anticipation as you discard your shirt to the bedroom floor as well. When you look at Toji, you notice the bandaged patch on his left side. He sees you glimpsing, quick to ease your concerns. "I'll be fine, darlin'. Won't go too crazy." Looking at his scarred body in a new light, you nod and follow his lead.

Toji carries your legs up to move to the right of his shoulder, situating you two into a mating press. His dick aligns with your glossy cunt. Precum meets slick and lubricates the two sexes pushing into each other. Toji coaxes you. "Too tense, ma. Relax fr' me." You prepare yourself with even breaths, and the man pushes into you with each exhale.

The head of his cock enters, a cry departs from your lips, and Toji hisses with the tightness of your slit. His hips go slow, making sure your walls accommodate every vein and dent of his dick as it ventures deep within you. Hits to your G-spot have you babbling incoherent prayers, gripping the sheets under you.

When his cockhead finally meets your cervix, you sob his name in rapture. Toji smirks, dialing the pace of his thrusts up. "Mmmm, Christ, yr' tight pussy. So fuckin' perfect fr' me."

Every stroke prompts a euphoric moan from you, drool escaping your lips as your mind turns into putty. The noises of his pelvis smacking on your ass feel so wrong to hear, yet you can't help but grip around Toji's girthy length. It gets worse when he presses his entire body weight on you, forcing you to take his cock and abusing your tender cervix with every deep rut.

As for Toji, he's enjoying seeing you writhe and pant under his bow. The corner of your eyes sprinkled with tears, your mouth wailing in euphoric chants, the way your cunt clamps around his dick when he grinds his hips deep onto your come-covered folds. He can never get enough of this, enough of you, driving him so fucking crazy.

"Daddyyy, I'm gonna—Ahhaaaa!!" Toji's now going at an erratic cadence, his cock churning your insides as his heavy balls slapping your folds being the only things you can listen to. Your whines get higher and higher while chasing your climax. "Cu-cumming, I'm gonna cumm—Ohhh!!"

"Hnngh! Oh, shit, fuck, fuck. Me too, kid, me too," Toji groans into your ear. God, his deep voice makes your brain mush. "Oooooh, want me to fill you up, mama?"

Your head nods frantically, tears now staining your face. "Yessss, please, Daddy!! I want it!" Toji hears your pleas and smashes his mouth into yours, moans swapped between lips with tongues daubed in saliva. A hand is moved down to your clit, pinching the spot between Toji's forefinger and thumb. And your pussy tightens around his cock one last time before you peak onto him.

The fluttery spasms of your walls clenching around Toji have him finish in three deep strokes, spurting his seed inside you before he relaxes his heaving body on yours. The kiss breaks with you two huffing and panting, the final moments of your high finally depleting out of your nude bodies.

His green eyes take in your dazed expression, calloused fingers wiping your tears away. "How's that for an apology?"

"You pervy old man," You chuckle to yourself, so out of breath. "You're more of a man of action anyway, so you pulled through. "

"Hehe, I'll take it." He cups your jaw with his big hand, your eyes locked in with his. "I love you so fuckin' much, baby. Sorry for ever making you think otherwise."

You blink once. Twice. Your hands come up to his face, and a finger swipes away black bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead. "I love you too, Toji. I would've left your ass if you weren't."

Toji smiles and leans in to kiss your swollen lips with his scared ones; however, a sharp pain stops him, prompting the big man to yell out. Worried, you try to assess what's wrong. Then you see it: the blood-stained bandage on his left side.

A gasp catches his attention, and Toji turns to what you're gawking at. His body freezes, seeing the trail of blood exit from his reopened wound.

"Ahhhh shit..."

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"Well, well, well," Utahime smirks at you through the screen. "I see you're not on the couch anymore."

You smile sheepishly as you lie on the pillows and headboard of your shared bed. Tsumiki and Megumi huddle beside you, napping blissfully around your presence under Tsumiki's pink blanket.

"Yeah, we made up last night." To avoid disturbing the children, you reply in whispers.

Mei Mei hums. "I see that. I assume you two had a nice talk about it?" You open your mouth, but no words come out. The two women quirk up a brow.

"Oh? I take it that there was more than just talking." Utahime chimes in, her smile going ear to ear while your eyes avoid the screen. "No wonder we didn't see you at work today. The dick so good it saved your relationship, huh?" She laughs at you hushing her up for using crude language while the children sleep. "Well, happy you two figured it out. But don't think I won't come over there and beat his ass the next time I see you on that couch."

"I second that," Mei Mei agrees. "But Uta can do the beatdown; I'm more interested in what he has in his wallet."

"Not much, I'll tell you that." you correct your friend. "I'm the one who takes care of his finances for safe-keeping."

"Well, that makes things easier for me."

The three of you laugh through your devices. Then you hear heavy footsteps drawing closer from the stairs. "Oop, he's back now. I'll talk to you guys later!" You hurriedly wave and kiss your friends goodbye before ending the video call. The bedroom door opens, and there he is.

Toji flashes a quick smile at you before it vanishes once he sees his kids nestled around you. "I was hopin' to get some alone time with you."

You giggle as you brush Tsumik's hair away from her pretty face. "You're back early. Is your wound okay now?"

"Hmph, yeah, thanks to you pushin' me out the way and grabbin' for the first aid kit." Toji pokes fun at you for the event from last night, where you immediately pushed the brawny man off of you and ran for the tools necessary to treat his open injury the moment you saw blood. You chuckle and watch the tall man climb into bed. "Doc said it should fully heal within a week or two. Why the squirts here?"

"They were happy to find me back in the room for a nap, so they joined me and kept me company." Megumi snuggles close to you for warmth, and you pick him up to your chest.

"Well, they're takin' my spot."

"I don't think they care."

Toji pinches your nose for your snarky remark, and you wriggle out of his fingers with quiet chuckles. His hand then cups your face and pulls you to face him, his emerald eyes softly gazing into you.

"You know I love the hell outta you, right?" His deep voice sounds sweet to the ears. You purr into his hand. "And I hope you know I'm the same for you." He nods. You smile.

He hesitates for a split second, but Toji leans close to kiss your tender lips. Only for a tiny hand to come smacking him in the face, halting him from further movement. To the shock of you both, Megumi was back awake, sending a mean look at his father.

Toji groans in annoyance. "What was that for, brat?"

"For making Y/n sad." Megumi keeps his hold on you secure as he and Toji mean-mug each other. Queuing Tsumiki from her slumber, defending you from her father. "Apologize or stay away!" The little girl warns the older man.

You're quick to break up the mini-fight amongst the Fushiguros. "Alright, kids, no need to worry about me. Your dad already apologized to me by promising to take us out for dinner tonight." Childish faces beam in delight while Toji shifts to instant puzzlement. "Now go get ready and put on your shoes!" Tsumiki and Megumi do just that, rushing out of your shared room and to their own.

When you can't hear the pitter-patter of little feet anymore, you feel big strong arms haul you into Toji's embrace, attacking you with tickles. You try to squirm your way out, but it's no use when he uses his body to cage you in. "Who told you to make promises on my name, huh? You tryna be bratty with me, kid?" He grins at your ticklish suffering.

"Then don't you—Oh God, stop!" It's difficult finishing your statement while fighting back laughter and screams. "Don't you ever yell at me again!"

He stops tickling you, thank God. You catch your breath as Toji looks at you under him with a proud smile. "I don't plan on it, sweetie. Now c'mere."

Toji finally has his lips placed on your soft ones, and you happily return the favor by wrapping your arms around his neck to pepper him with delicate kisses. But the romantic atmosphere vanishes when the children come and dogpile on Toji after hearing your ticklish screams, forcing the older Fushiguro off of you to deal with his kids with tickles of their own.

Observing the children laugh and squirm under Toji's merciless fingers, a soft smile adorns your face watching the domestic display before you and thinking how lucky you are to witness such a thing. Well, that's before all three of them turn to you and bring you another ticklish horror.

And despite the torture, your screams and giggles are filled with pure joy and contentment, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[everythingisromant1c]

p1: chemistry read w/ co-star!james

co-star!james potter x actress!reader

summary: before filming can start, your director has to ofc find the perfect person to play your love interest, + what better way to do that than to have a chemistry read?

a/n: i will not pretend to know anything abt film/tv production so this is more than probably innaccurate 🙏 also this first one is not my best work but dw more drama will ensue. <33

full series - masterlist

You'd wanted this job more than anything. You'd worked harder than anyone you knew to kickstart your acting career and knew this opportunity was just the way to do it. When your agent called you about an audition for the lead role in a new show titled 'South Bay'—a drama named after the L.A. region itself—and gave you a sample of the pilot script, saying you fell in love with it wouldn't be a stretch. And after those few months later when you'd received the call that you'd gotten the part, it was safe to say you were walking on clouds for weeks afterward.

Your amazing director Minerva had cast you first and foremost, knowing your role was key to the show's success, and you'd already built a strong relationship with her after just a few weeks of knowing her.

After casting you, she'd informed you that the show's next order of business was finding someone to play your character's—Cassidy's—love interest, Aaron. When she'd told you that initially, you didn't think anything of it. But when she told you they already had gone through the first round of auditions for the role and that it was time for the infamous chemistry reads, you had to try your hardest to stay completely calm.

Aside from the fact that you'd soon be meeting the person you'd have to spend hours working with every day for God knows how many months, you also knew that the casting directors were going to be looking extra careful at the romantic chemistry you were supposed to have with the actors they brought in. You willed yourself not to get worked up when the morning came for the chemistry reads with the men auditioning for Aaron, and reminded yourself that your role in the show was already secured. Yet, for some reason, you were still on edge.

Luckily, the casting directors had narrowed down their options from the hundreds of actors who had come to audition for the role of Aaron originally to just a handful, making your job much easier. By the time noon came around, you'd already read from the script with three different candidates.

Just as you'd expected, they each had done a close-to-perfect job in their auditions. Your personal favorite was the second actor you'd read lines with, a sandy-haired guy named Remus who you thought was a really nice person as well as actor. It was important to you that the person you were going to have to pretend to be romantically interested in was a person you at least liked, and it was all too easy to imagine working with someone like Remus.

You'd expressed your thoughts to Minerva when she'd asked for them, and she nodded in agreement—a good sign—before the two casting directors beside her were calling for her attention.

"This next one, Minerva," cooed the curly-haired woman you knew as Poppy from next to her, "we think you're going to like."

"Am I?" she asked, lips curling up.

"Oh yes. When we saw him we knew right away we had to bring him in for the chemistry reading." Poppy nodded to you. "He looks promising. And he certainly has the background; his parents are Euphemia and Fleamonet Potter."

The other casting director hummed in agreement, not hiding their impressed and widened eyes. "Not to mention, he has that accent."

You had to fight your expression from turning sour. A Potter? If there was one thing you didn't appreciate in the world of acting, it was nepotism. After working so hard and starting from the ground up to get your acting career where it currently was, the last thing you wanted was to have to see your director swoon over some guy just because of who his parents were.

Nonetheless, you had faith in Minerva to pick the person who truly deserved the job. You watched her nod at the two women beside her, intrigued nonetheless. She waved a hand over to the security guard by the door in the corner of the room.

"Bring Potter in?"

The burly man nodded and exited the room briefly, and not a minute had gone by before he returned with the man you assumed was the young Potter in tow.

You subconsciously stood up straighter when you saw him, trying to push away any premeditated opinions of the man approaching. Brown curls and a genetically gifted bone structure you could see from feet away, he walked into the room confidently with reason. He immediately offered the security guard who had brought him into the room a handshake, and you watched as the tall brick wall of a man lit up with a bright smile from the gesture. Potter then rolled out more charming words of greeting to the director and casting directors, and you took the opportunity to scan him over in more detail.

With an interest you couldn't explain, you saw that he was strikingly handsome in the kind of way you'd expect the son of two celebrities to be; he was wearing a black t-shirt that clung to him flatteringly, with that sort of movie-star quality you knew audiences always swooned over. It didn't help that the moment he walked in you saw each of the directors turn to each other with raised brows and suggestive smiles that only widened when he introduced himself, charmingly posh British accent and all. You had to fight back from rolling your eyes at their reactions.

"James," greeted Poppy, standing up from her seat to give the man a handshake.

"Poppy," the man regarded, and you felt your eyebrows raise at the fact that he was already on a first-name basis with the head casting director.

She sat back down after a moment, keeping her attention on the man—James—as she spoke. "James, this is Minerva McGonagall, the Director of South Bay."

"I'm such an admirer of your work, Mrs. McGonagall. My parents took me to see your adaptation of Henry Shay's novel about three times when it first came out."

Your parents, you thought internally with some distaste; the famous actor and actress power couple. You had to stop yourself from shaking your head.

"Please, just Minerva," the director responded warmly, and you noted that she hadn't told any of the other actors to call her by her first name. "And thank you."

Poppy nodded happily before she held out an alarming hand towards you. "And let me introduce you to the wonderful actress who is going to be playing South Bay's leading lady Cassidy Ward."

You plastered on a smile and introduced yourself as plainly and confidently as you could, definitely not feeling suddenly conscious of your appearance as his warm-colored eyes raked over you.

James took that second to scan you over before realizing with a simmering feeling in the planes of his chest that there was something special about you he couldn't make out, something that had him wanting to greet you with more than a handshake. He refrained, thankfully, not saying anything after you finished introducing yourself for a second you felt was a beat too long, before scrambling to hold out a hand to you.

"I'm James. James Potter," he said as if you hadn't been already made aware of his last name. "It's an honor to get to meet you."

You didn't know why but his clear flattery only made you more uneasy of him, knowing it was something he'd probably gotten used to pulling out to impress whatever important or famous people he was busy meeting through all the connections he probably had.

You stopped yourself in your tracks; you were being unfair. You'd only known the guy, if you call it knowing him, for under a minute. Shaking off the odd feeling that was creeping its way into your stomach, you shook his held out hand with a polite nod, though that didn't the prying feeling inside you go away.

"Alright." Minerva clapped her hands together, looking between the two of you. "We're just going to do a read-through of scene number thirty-four, Episode three." She motioned towards the camera crew set up behind her, them shooting her a thumbs up.

She turned back around, looking between you and James pointedly. "Remember, your characters Cassidy and Aaron are the only two characters in the show who have known each other for longer than just a few months. They're close. That connection has to be visible, however you want to show that to us."

You didn't know why, but you felt uneasy. You nodded at Minerva regardless, seeing the supportive but anticipatory look behind her eyes as she glanced between you and the man now standing in front of you like you held the answers to all her problems.

James looked surprisingly calm and collected, like there was nothing in the world that could make the James Potter nervous. The more you looked at him and the confident set of his shoulders, the more you thought that was true.

Your director smiled. "Whenever you're both ready."

You nodded, taking a breath in before turning to James. "Where were you last night?"

You watched as James reacted to you in character, his strong brows pulling inwards. "What do you mean?"

You momentarily were taken aback by the almost effortless switch in his accent, but pushed the thought aside. "Last night. When everyone else was at Ryan's party. Where were you?"

He shrugged slightly. "I was in my dorm."

"Really? Because I knocked on your door and no one answered."

"I must've been sleeping. Why do want to know so badly?"

"I don't know, maybe because half the football team got caught last night breaking into the Dean's office."

"You don't think I did that, do you?"

You stared at him and then down at the floor. James—or Aaron, really—shook his head at you, his tone dropping. "I can't believe this."

Then he turned away from you and, as the script had told you to, you grabbed his wrist softly.

"Aaron, wait," you called, and the connection of your fingers to his arm had them tingling with a certain kind of teeming energy, though you didn't let it show on your face. "Of course I don't think you did it. I just don't know what to think. We're supposed to be best friends, yet you won't even tell me where you were."

James let a second pass before he said his next line, and it was like you could see his character's inner turmoil flickering through his mind restlessly when he said, "You want to know where I was, Cassidy?" You nodded. "I was talking with your Professor."

"Professor Brown?" you frowned. "Why?"

"I was trying to get him to let you submit your final thesis late."

"What? You know he told me I couldn't because-"

"Because of me." He paused dramatically, stern jaw working. "The only reason you missed the deadline was because you were helping me when I got too drunk to even make it up the stairs to my dorm."

"That's ... that's really nice of you, Aaron, but you know how Brown is-"

"He's letting you turn it in late for full credit."

"What?" You widened your eyes. "How did you ..."

"I told him how it was my fault you missed the deadline. And I told him about how good of a student you are, how you've never turned in anything late once, not even when we were in high school. But most importantly," he took a step closer to you to hold your hand, something you noted wasn't in the script but made your fingers flood with feeling. "I told him what a good person you were. How kind you are. Even to idiots like me who get black-out drunk during finals week."

You blinked at him, letting a smile overtake your face for a moment. "You really didn't have to."

"I did."

He squeezed your hand and, even if it was only acting, the way he was looking at you so meaningfully made something in your chest tighten excitedly. You didn't have to act when you shifted your gaze to the ground nervously. Why the hell were you nervous? "I don't know how the hell you got him to say yes."

"Well, I also have to wash his car for free for the next six months, but that's just a small detail."

You let your jaw drop. "I can't believe you'd do that for me."

"Of course I would." James took another step closer, still holding tight onto your hand and not breaking the immobilizing eye contact he'd established with you the whole while. "I'd do anything for you, Cassidy."

He nodded slowly, truly looking invested. Then, in a beat as short as a breath but one that must've felt like minutes to you as you stood there unmovingly, he leaned forward. All you could do was blink as his handsome—ugh, handsome—face neared yours before tilting itself to the right, where he left a soft but lingering kiss on your downstage cheek.

Then he pulled away again, the distance between you maybe a few inches smaller than before, before finally whispering, "Anything."

That definitely was not in the script. Your eyes blinked in an alarm that surely was no longer in character, but James looked unbothered, something you were finding was his natural state of being.

You felt your mouth go slightly dry at the intensity behind his eyes as he looked at you, but the last thing you could do was look away now, so you stayed rooted in your place in front of James as you waited for your signal to break character. Waited and waited; you felt dizzy.

"Cut!"

Minerva immediately clapped, the casting directors doing the same, and you felt like you could finally breathe as you dropped James's hand that was still holding yours and turned away from him, not sparing the man a second glance for nervous reasons you couldn't place. Maybe it was because of the fact that the feeling of his stupid lips was still lingering on your cheek.

Your director's tone was neutral when she said, "Great job, you two," though you watched as she turned passionately toward the two casting directors and they began speaking in hushed tones.

You shook your leg subtly as you waited, an antsy habit that you couldn't identify the current cause of, and you felt James lean down next to you, something that sent a nauseating feeling of déjà vu through you.

"Don't worry," he whispered lowly, taking your mannerisms as a sign of distress. He noted that even when frowning you looked extremely pretty, though at his words you left his lips your frown only deepened. "You did great."

You turned to him in confusion and some offense, trying to keep your voice hushed as you asked, "Excuse me?"

He shrugged a shoulder, eyes flicking over your figure for a split second that you definitely noticed. "You just looked tense, is all."

You stared at him blankly, not knowing what he could possibly be implying. Was he saying your acting looked tense? That you didn't look sure of yourself? Like you weren't already the lead and that he was the one auditioning? 

You fought the urge to say that maybe you looked tense because he'd just kissed you on the cheek out of nowhere, and stayed defiantly silent. When you didn't say anything back he let his lips turn up into a lopsided smile that you were sure must work on all the ladies, almost a smirk, and he nudged you in the shoulder a bit like you were old friends. Who was this guy?

Whatever you thought he meant by the statement, you didn't get to say anything back, because Minerva had pulled away from her conversation and was staring expectantly at the two of you. You did your best to soften your expression away from offended and back to neutral.

"Well," she said, turning to the man beside you. "Thank you, James, for coming in."

"Thank you," he responded, tipping his head politely. Then he took a step forward and shook each of the casting director's hands, and you watched with a foul taste in your mouth as their lips visibly fought against fond smiles.

When he turned back around, he held his hand out to you as well, and you regarded it for a moment before shaking it like you did at the start of his audition, though this time it was definitely against your will. His hand was warm and smooth, like he hadn't worked a day in his life, and you hated the fact that you even noted how it felt at all.

Like he knew you didn't enjoy his presence, he smiled at you with something knowing shining in his eyes that you hated before he took his leave, the door to the room shutting behind him.

"That was ..." began Poppy, shaking her head slowly, "Perfect. Just perfect."

You couldn't help the way your lips parted almost exhasperatedly. "Really?" You hoped you hadn't revealed your surprise in your tone.

"Yes," Minerva responded instead, also seeming to be in awe. "Wow." She gestured with her hands exuberantly. "It was like I could see the show coming to life right in front of me."

"Not to mention the chemistry between you two." Poppy tipped her head at you, smirking as she fanned herself. "I mean, wow."

You bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from saying anything you'd regret. Your throat felt dry. If you heard one more 'wow' from any of their mouths in reference to James Potter again you thought you were going to lose it. You tried to keep the premonition out of your voice as you bravely asked, "So, do you think you're going to cast him?"

Minerva paused for a moment in thought before answering you. "I mean, he was the last actor we're considering for the role, and I think he was the best we've seen today." She looked between the two other casting directors who nodded agreeingly at her words. "But I'd like to know your thoughts."

You blinked at her. "My thoughts?"

"Well, yes," she answered plainly. "He's going to be playing your love interest. And I like to hear my actor's opinions."

You pursed your lips at her words, feeling flattered but also not knowing how you were feeling at the prospect of having to work with James all the time. Although, deep within you, something was nagging at you—something you absolutely did not like—and telling you your answer.

The truth was, the scene you acted out with James felt realer, had come to life more than it had with any of the other actors that day. Maybe it was because he'd taken such liberties with the role, sure, but regardless, he did a great job. The thought made you hate yourself when you finally took a breath in to speak.

"He ..." you began unsurely, and then sighed. "He was great. Really great."

"Perfect!" Minerva clapped her hands together again, and something in your stomach churned. "We'll make contact with him as soon as possible." Her eyes twinkled as she regarded you. "I can't wait to have you two leading South Bay. I have nothing but hope."

"And," Poppy added, "it'll be great for publicity having a Potter in our cast."

The two other directors at the table nodded and murmured in agreement, and you fought from sighing. You thought of the days you'd spend on set with James Potter, of all people, not only having to get along with him but connect with him, with someone who clearly thought they were above you, enough to reassure you when you had already gotten the lead role. And then you thought of what it would be like to release South Bay to the public, your first leading role, only for Potter's undeniably charming face to be the audience's main focus. It left a sour feeling in your mouth.

But it wasn't just that horrible premonition that annoyed you; you didn't know exactly what bugged you about him in particular but you knew it hadn't gone away with his formal handshake or well-practiced manners. In fact, that'd probably only worsened the feeling.

But there was nothing you could really do about it now. At least, not if you planned on keeping your job. You were a professional, you knew that. But that didn't mean it was going to be easy to maintain that title. You really did sigh then, and something rooted in your gut told you it was going to be a long year of shooting.

[sunlightmurdock]

Ashes, Ashes | Two | Bradley Bradshaw

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Synopsis: In which Maverick didn’t make it home after the Uranium mission. He’s missing, presumed dead. There are things that have to be done — someone has to take care of the house, the bills.

So, Maverick’s daughter is back in Fightertown for the first time since she was in elementary school. There’s a gaping hole in both of their lives now, and somehow, the world’s supposed to just keep on turning without him.

warnings: bradley bradshaw x minimally descriptive oc avery mitchell. age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, military inaccuracies. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.

…

Bradley rents a bungalow about twenty minutes from base, towards the south of the San Diego bay. He explains, on the drive there, while she is hugging an overnight bag of her things, that he’s been renting it from this sweet old lady for the past four years — but he’s only been living in it for about three quarters of that time, with deployments.

He talks a lot. Shooting halfway amused looks across at him every now and again as he talks over his music, explaining his entire rental history, Avery just lets him go on and on.

Maybe he’s worried that the silence will give her room to start tearing up again, but she knows that won’t happen — it was already a rare occurrence, just the once. 

She lets him talk. He doesn’t seem to mind how much attention she’s paying either. Anything other than silence is fine, even if he’s the only one filling it.

The respite comes when he parks in the driveway, hops out, and proudly displays the home to her. It’s white all over and covered in plants, all up the driveway and over the porch. There’s a surfboard sitting on the porch, waxed up and looking ready to go.

Inside is masculine and simple, and spotless. It looks more lived in than Maverick’s place, but in an exceptionally organised way. 

Just past the front door, he has an organised entryway with a closet and one of those shoe racks that looks like an end table. 

Beyond that, his living area is all open plan. His kitchen is to the left right as you walk in, and the living room is the clear focus. He’s got a big grey sectional pointed at a big tv with a stack of video games beside it.

He doesn’t ask her to take her shoes off by the door, but she copies politely when he kicks his off. 

That leaves her, blue and white tube socks, toeing against the chewed up corner of the area rug while he busies himself with fixing the few things he deems to be out of place. 

Itching to keep moving, she prods at the fabric, examining the teeth marks, wondering where the dog must be.

“Oh— that was my ex-girlfriend’s dog. I’ve been meaning to buy a new rug.” He explains, furrowing his brows at the spot as he tosses a throw pillow down onto his soft looking grey couch. “Um — so, I do have a guest room, but it’s kind of a gym right now. You can just make yourself at home, and I’ll go get everything out of your way.”

“I can take the couch.”

“No, no, you deserve some privacy at least. I’ll just be a sec — I have sodas and beers in the fridge, glasses are in the cabinet to the right. Help yourself.” He’s a good host, and a better one than she had been yesterday, considering that Maverick’s place is now technically her own.

As he heads for the long, stretching hallway, she shoots a look back down at the mauled rug. With how spotless the rest of this place is, he must have really liked that girl to let her bring her dog here, and to let it chew up his stuff.

She wonders, aimlessly, if he was mad about it. If they argued. If they broke up long ago.

Avery hasn’t had too many relationships of her own. Some mediocre sex and a couple of couch-based movie dates here and there, nothing to write home about. 

She sits cautiously, sinking into the pillowy cushion of the couch, taking the time finally to really look around her. The space is bright, with big windows all around and a view of the bay. There’s a sun catcher dancing from the curtain rod, casting rainbows across his wooden floors.

Maybe his ex had bought that, too.

The bungalow is small, but it fits all of his belongings with an abundance of space left. Avery thinks back to her father’s place, always cluttered and spilling over with junk, treasure from his years of travels.

Maybe Bradley is a little bit less sentimental about keeping things.

He rattles around in the room at the end of the hall for a while, huffing occasionally. While waiting on the couch, she considers getting up and offering to help a few times, but ultimately convinces herself against it.

“Alright! Fresh sheets and some space to move, there’s still a bunch of stuff in there but I tried to get it out of your way.” He comes strolling back down the hallway and drops down onto the couch at her side, letting out a heavy sigh.

She screws her mouth up a little, looking across at him while he rests his eyes, long, dark eyelashes brushing his warm cheeks. His long legs, covered by worn denim, stretch out far enough that he has to bend them around his coffee table.

When one hand comes up to card through his mussed curls, she catches sight of the tattoo inked across the expanse of his bicep. LXXXVI. ‘86. She starts to think on it, letting him enjoy his moment of peace, when he shifts and startles her enough to drag her eyes away from his flexing arm.

“Thanks, for everything,” Avery manages to still sound a little cautious in her tone, even when she’s rushing to speak. “Staying last night, driving me around today, letting me stay with you. I really appreciate it.”

He smiles without opening his eyes, reaching out and letting his hand pat skim across the seam of her jeans, patting at her knee platonically.

“Any time.” He breezes, cool. 

The first night is uneventful. Avery sleeps restlessly on the futon in Bradley’s spare bedroom, turned home gym. 

She pretends that she doesn’t see the numbers on the sides of the weights, and pretends also that she doesn’t give a little bit of her imagination to the way that tattoo must move when he lifts them.

When she wakes up, Bradley is gone and there is a note on the kitchen counter explaining that he went for a run. He was gone for two hours, trying to run far enough that the sick, hot, thudding feeling in his chest would stop.

Back at the house, Natasha stops by and spends the afternoon. She lets herself into the place with her key, which sits on her own keychain like she’s had it for a while. Watching a sitcom from the armchair while they sit beside each other on the couch, Avery notices that the two of them are very close.

She wonders if Natasha happens to have a dog.

Sleep doesn’t come any easier for either one of them the second night. When he finally catches sight of the red, flashing declaration on his alarm clock that it is now 2:01am, Bradley gives up.

He tries to be quiet as he’s getting up, careful not to wake Avery. They’re in much closer quarters in his place than they had been back at Maverick’s house, her door is right opposite his across the narrow hallway.

He pads down the hallway, rubbing at his eyes, tossing up whether he’s going to try to drink something warm and go back to bed, or if he’s just going to stay up. He can’t keep not sleeping.

He almost heads straight for the kitchen, freezing in his tracks as he finally takes note of the blue light coming from his living room, and the sound of women’s voices. It takes him a second, even though he’d been being so considerate on her behalf, to remember that he has a guest over.

“Ave?” He mumbles. 

The TV immediately falls silent. She winces from her spot on the couch, craning her neck to try to see him at the edge of the hallway.

“Just me. I’m sorry! Did I wake you?” She sounds worried. He’s still half asleep. 

He shakes his head as he steps out from the shadows and heads for his kitchen. “No, I just wasn’t expecting you to be up. I couldn’t sleep.”

He passes by pretty quickly, concealed behind the kitchen island in just a few steps. Still, she saw him. Illuminated only by the light of the television, wearing a tight pair of black boxer briefs and dog tags around a silver chain. Long, muscled legs and tapered hips. 

Sure, he was good looking before, and clearly fit — but she wasn’t expecting what had been under those slightly loose t-shirts.

Her mouth is dry as she mumbles out a soft, “Me either.”

“D’you want a tea?” He stands with her back to her now, reaching around in the darkness of his kitchen. She stares, unblinking, at his back.

“You drink tea?”

“Sometimes,” He cranes his neck to look at her over his shoulder. “That’s not weird.”

Her lips almost quirk, and she gives him a confirming shake of her head. “I didn’t say it was. Do you have green tea?”

He scoffs without looking. “Of course I have green tea.”

This whole lack of sleep thing isn’t new to him. It comes with the grief, but it’s there even when he feels like he isn’t grieving anymore. Since he was a kid, Bradley has had thoughts that keep him up at night, thoughts bad enough to stir him from peaceful, pleasant dreams.

He’s tried every tea in the catalog.

He carries the two mugs across the living room without once noticing the way he’s been stared at. He sets hers down on a cute little wicker coaster on his coffee table, walking past and dropping down onto the corner of the sectional.

His legs stretch out and he shifts and twists until he finds himself comfortable. “What’s this?”

She sets her gaze steadily on the television, her hands in her lap, wondering if he’s this brash with all of his house guests. With a swallow, she shrugs her shoulders. “Oh, it’s just this TV show about a columnist in New York in the nine—“

“Are you explaining Sex and the City to me?” Bradley sounds bewildered, his face stark as he stares at her across the couch. Avery’s lips tug at a smile, and she almost forget the nerves she’d been feeling.

Until, the light from the television catches on the silver of his dogtags. Her gaze drops, like a flicker, to his bare, toned chest — and she swiftly looks back to the television.

“You’ve seen it?” She asks softly.

He’s beyond good looking. He’d always been okay looking, he’d had a nice smile in all of those pictures she had seen. But now, the roundness of his cheeks is gone and he has grown into his nose, his lips are a shade of pink that would be a bestseller in cosmetics. 

Avery curses herself; she had been pretty successfully pretending not to notice that he had gotten good looking. Then, he comes strolling down that hallway and making her tea from his apparently extensive collection, having the nerve to sprawl across his own couch looking like that. 

Across from a girl who hasn’t seen any action in the better part of a year too. 

She almost scowls. 

“Every episode,” He answers gleefully. At first, she thinks of Natasha or that mysterious girlfriend with the badly behaved dog. Then, he adds, “This was my mom’s favourite TV show, ever.”

And suddenly, she feels a little guilty for acting like those muscles make him some kind of ladies’ man. Just because the rest of them have been, she guesses. 

Bradley seems like a nice guy. He slept in a bed clearly meant for a child all night last night, and he let her take the first shower this morning, he chased her across the parking lot and offered to fix all of her problems in one fell swoop. 

Maybe that’s because of some kind of debt he thinks he owes to Pete, and maybe it’s just because that’s the kind of man he is.

She glances across, watching him chuckle at a classic Samantha one-liner and take a sip of a raspberry herbal tea. Wrinkling her nose, she settles back down into the spot she had been relaxing in, and lets herself zone out again. 

They watch a couple of episodes. Unlike earlier, Bradley doesn’t feel the need to talk. He likes the quiet, mixed with their frequent chuckles. It’s an okay thing, to not have to fill that silent void. 

Avery is the first to excuse herself to go back to bed, and she hasn’t once mentioned his little Calvin Kleins or the way they make his thighs look. 

As she walks away, Bradley catches himself. He hadn’t much thought about what she might wear to bed, or what she’d been wearing when he first sat down with her. Her hips wiggle in her stride, her fitted pyjama shorts hugging her ass as she heads for the guest room. 

The material of her loose t-shirt is tucked in at the back. Those cotton shorts hug her hips and show off just the tiniest glimpse of her round ass, from where they have ridden up a little.

He looks away before she’s even out of view, but it doesn’t change what he had been thinking. She’s Pete’s kid, for gods’ sakes. Not much of a kid anymore, but still, it wouldn’t be right.

Man, Maverick would hate it, too. 

Bradley wishes, silently, that he was here to scold him. Pete would square his shoulders and get that rare and serious look on his face, warning Bradley to keep his hands to himself. And Bradley would smile and taunt him, saying, “Don’t worry, Mav, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

With her dad gone, it just makes it worse.

These next few weeks are going to be hard, and the least he could do is think with his head to keep things simple between the two of them. He heads back to bed late enough for it to almost not be worth it. 

He wakes to the sound of chaos over the comms, that same last conversation, those snowy peaks behind his eyelids. 

Mouth dry, heart thudding, his eyes are still shut when he stumbles out into the hall and twists the bathroom door handle. It jams, and he remembers. The sounds of water coming from behind the door stops abruptly.

Peeking her head around the shower curtain, already wincing, Avery calls back out to him. “Sorry! I’ll just be a second!”

“No — sorry, take as long as you want.” He calls back, shaking his head and heading for the kitchen. Restless and anxious, he splashes cold water across his face and thinks about Pete.

He saw Mav do this insurmountable times. He remembers all of the mornings that Mav would wake up gasping, shaking, and he would head straight for the bathroom, bolting the door. He’d come back out okay again. He wonders if Mav still did it, even all these years later.

If he still heard Goose’s voice through the comms, calling him out of his dreams. 

The thought makes him shudder. The bathroom door unlocking makes him flinch, looking up sharply. 

Avery steps out of the bathroom, her hair still dry and tied back, droplets of water still beading along the skin and flowing under the plush blue towel she had taken from the linen closet. He had told her to help herself, but he’s staring at her now and she’s second guessing herself.

He stands at his kitchen sink, his hands braced against the countertop, his knuckles white. She barely even notices his little Calvin Kleins. Her brows knit together as she takes a step toward him, barely visible around the corner.

“Hey… are you okay?” Her face creases with concern, lingering in the hallway so that he can see her just enough.

He remembers to let go of the countertop.

“Yeah,” He breathes out, unconvincingly, reaching up and shaking a hand through his tangled curls. He takes a second, trying to gather his thoughts enough to keep the conversation moving. “Were you still thinking you’re gonna need a job while you’re here?”

She blinks, her scrunched up face relaxing as she takes another step closer, cocking her head at him.

“Um, yeah. I think so.”

He nods. “Get dressed. We’ll go see my friend in a bit, can see if it’s something you might be interested in. Maybe, then we’ll take your car to a mechanic this afternoon.” 

Out of the house, he feels like he can breathe again. It’s just sleeping, that’s all. When he’s really awake, he can control it all a little better, it doesn’t get to him as much.

He drives the same way he had yesterday. Three fingers around the bottom of the wheel, seventies music playing. Today, the windows are down. Avery makes a pretty good passenger — she doesn’t ask him to change his music and she doesn’t put her head in the way when he’s trying to check his mirrors.

Mainly because she isn’t once watching the road, but that’s okay. 

She looks around the city like she’s seeing it for the first time. Mav lived her for longer than she’s been alive — and the entire place seems foreign to her.

Bradley knows both of his parents’ hometowns like the back of his hand, and he still hasn’t ever lived in either one of them. 

“Did your dad ever tell you about Penny?” He asks so calmly, drumming his fingers along the wheel, Ray-Ban caravans sitting across the bridge of his nose.

The look that Avery shoots him gives him more than enough of an answer. She sets her phone down in her lap and studies him, frowning slightly.

“Who’s Penny?”

Shit. Bradley shakes his head and his voice pitches up a fraction. “Oh, she and Mav were just good friends for a long time.”

A product of one of Maverick’s ‘good friendships’ herself, Avery doesn’t need Bradley to explain to her what that means. It makes her a little less excited to get to wherever he’s taking her. 

With one quick glance across, he catches the little frown settling across her lips.

“She owns that bar on Breakers Beach. We drove past it yesterday when we saw Admiral Simpson?” Bradley prompts her, glancing across at the passenger seat. She nods along. “I texted her yesterday and she really wanted to meet you, said you can have some shifts there if you want them.”

Avery wrinkles her nose, trying not to frown across at him when he’s doing his best to just be helpful.

“What? — What’s that look?” He prompts, looking across at her with an amused smile toying at his lips. 

“She’s like a long time ago ex, right? She wasn’t dating Pete recently?” 

Bradley thinks on his answer for a moment. He isn’t surprised that she figured out there was something between Mav and Penny, he would have figured it out too.

But, he had heard of Mav’s experience with Penny Benjamin a long time before he had actually gotten to meet Penny Benjamin. Really, he’s surprised to find that Avery has never heard of her, she and Mav were really on and off for quite a while.

He guesses that Mav kept that kind of thing from her.

Which means that he would want Bradley to keep the fact that he had seen Mav and Penny leave the bar together three times in the weeks leading the mission to himself too.

“Yeah. Like a long time ago.” He confirms.

“Alright, okay — yeah, this’ll be good,” Avery sounds more like she’s giving herself a pep talk than like she’s replying to him. He shoots her a smile and a nod anyway. “Thanks, again, by the way. You’re cool for setting this all up.”

Cool. Not the kind of compliment he’s usually searching for from a pretty girl, but he’ll take it.

Reaching across the centre console, he gives her knee a quick squeeze. “Not so bad yourself, Mitchell.”

Briefly, his palm lingers there. It’s just because he’s focusing on turning into the parking lot, but it’s still his large palm hugging the curve of her knee for a minute longer than it should have.

Completely over the thick protection of her jeans, but she stares at the touch anyways. Then, she dares to look back up at him. Totally relaxed as he pulls into a spot up front like it’s his own personal one. 

One more squeeze, and he takes his hand back and swings open the door. The parking lot is surprisingly busy for the middle of the week at noon.

 Avery follows him out of the vehicle, gingerly matching his pace as he heads inside. It’s once he’s spotted that she falters. 

“Rooster!” Someone even taller than he is comes marching up right away and throws his arms around Bradley. Bradley hugs him loosely, greeting him with an aloof but firm pat of the back.

“Payback.” He greets quietly.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you. How are you holding up?” His warm eyes bore into Bradley, his head bowed slightly and his voice sincere. He hasn’t spotted her yet.

“I’m alright,” Bradley sounds convincing enough, but this Payback guy hadn’t seen how rattled Bradley had looked this morning. “This is Avery.” 

Finally, Payback’s gaze flickers to the girl standing behind Rooster. Halfway tucked behind his shoulder, staring at him through her lashes, looking totally lost and sheepish.

“Mav’s kid?”

In the short time Bradley has known her, he knows that’s not the kind of response she would have wanted to get.

Swinging his arm out and throwing the heavy limb around her shoulders, Payback watches Rooster drag the stunned girl out from behind him and present her at his side. “It’d pay you to learn your new bartender’s name, Fitch.”

He’s looking Avery right in the eye, and he already can see that Bradley’s going to have to be reminded that not everyone likes the heavy handed approach to affection he can have.

Still, he smiles at her like he means it and nods his head respectfully.

“Already got it, it’ll be good to have you around, Avery.” 

A small smile works its way across her lips, grateful if not anything else.

“Nice to meet you.” She answers him quietly, stiff against Bradley’s side. He pats her back and urges her forwards.

“Here, this is Penny. Penny, meet your new bartender.”

Penny Benjamin is tall and striking, standing behind the bar with her eyes already on the new bartender. There’s a recognition and affection in the blue of her gaze that tells Avery she was lied to just a moment ago.

That’s a woman who cared deeply for Pete Mitchell.

It puts a bad taste in her mouth, a pit in her stomach, a sudden coldness about the possibility of this job. Even if just for a short time, for however long she’s here, she’s just going to be an extension of the man she had always felt so far from.

Penny cocks her head to the side, just a bit. Sure, she can see semblances of Pete in the girl across from her, but it’s the rigid, flighty look in her eyes that catches Penny’s attention. 

Across from her is someone with something to prove, and a character they’ve been playing for a long time now. That’s what feels most familiar.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Avery says stiffly, trying to sound like she means it. 

Penny nods, smiling. She glances towards Bradley, then back to the girl still tucked under his arm.

“You too. Let’s talk.” 

As Jimmy takes over the bar duties, Bradley’s left with the prospect of facing his friends when Penny and Avery disappear toward the back deck.

He scratches at the back of his neck, shooting one last look at the two of them over his shoulder, and wondering what he’s supposed to say to all of those guys. 

One by one, he could manage… but all in a group like that? — He hasn’t seen most of them since it happened. 

It’s Natasha that he can trust to catch his eye first, giving him that kind of look cautious parents give their kids when coaching them on a bike. She worries a lot for someone who swears that she doesn’t care about the meatheads she hangs out with.

He heads for her as coolly as he can manage, hoping that the other guys know not to give him a hard time today. They don’t, they never would. 

His therapist says it’s a defensive thing, the way he waits for people to say the wrong thing. When he’s hurt, he expects it, almost. He’s trying to get out of it. 

They can all give him credit for that.

Even so, it doesn’t take long for conversation to fade from small talk to the newest, most exciting subject.

“So, she’s staying at your place?” Natasha’s the first one to bring up the missing party, picking up on a comment about the two of them arriving together.

Bradley shakes his head and fiddles with his root beer bottle. “No, she’ll be over at Mav’s place once we get her car fixed up. It’s a real piece of shit, I don’t even know what they’d do to make it run any better.”

“Mav loves cars — and he lets her drive a shitbox like that?” It’s Javy who scoffs that out, the only one still talking about the Captain who had taken a shine to him in present tense. 

Bradley just shrugs. This isn’t the place to unpack whatever went down between Mav and Avery. He doesn’t know enough, even if he wanted to talk about it.

“She came all the way down here by herself?” Callie asks. She doesn’t say it, but she’s referring to the fact that her mother came all the way out to Lemoore to try to move her into the barracks like it was college when she was that age. 

Bradley shrugs again. He hasn’t heard much about Avery’s mom in the past twenty years, he isn’t even sure that he ever met her — certainly wouldn’t be able to pick her out of a crowd. All he knows is the gossip he’d gotten from his mom when it was all going down. 

“How’s she doing?” Bob asks, his blue eyes deep and sincere as he searches Bradley’s face, knowing better than to ask the same question. 

“Okay, I think.” Bradley muses, thinking of how quickly Avery had questioned the recovery efforts yesterday. “I dunno how close they were, but it’s always gotta be hard. Just… trying to make it a little easier on her, I guess.” 

They all nod, slowly.

And then Avery comes marching back inside, her chin high and her hair a little wind-swept, making a beeline right for the closest thing she’s got to a friend in this town.

“Hey.” Bradley offers her a smile, and reaches out for her. His hand grazes the back of her bicep, and she smiles more genuinely than she has in the past two days.

“Hi.”

He catches sight of himself being watched, and takes a look back over Avery’s shoulder to find Penny looking. Her blue eyes flicker down to his hand on Avery’s arm. 

Pursing her lips, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, and Bradley’s mouth almost falls open. There’s no way she thinks that he’s hitting on Avery. He’s just being friendly.

Penny knows Bradley well enough to know that. He’s always been a very affectionate guy. Still, the look that she gives him is one that certainly, and silently, tells him to keep his hands to himself. 

He blinks, and finds his friends looking back at him expectantly. 

“So, you’re taking the job?” He checks, shaking off Penny’s watchful eyes and settling back into what he knows. Avery nods her head at him.

“Starting tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. That’s way soon. He’s going to have to make sure he doesn’t keep her up until four in the morning watching the misadventures of Carrie Bradshaw tonight. 

“Well, guys, say hi to your new bartender.” 

He brings the bottle of rootbeer back up to his lips and shoots a quick glance back over Avery’s shoulder. Penny stares back, unfazed, as he narrows his eyes back at her.

What does she know about anything, anyways?

…

[lazyevaluationranch]

*pats askbox gently* there are more Thermoreceptors?

(I'm sorry ur dome was so hot; I hope its much cooler now!)

My bluff has been called! Hooray!!

I am not a neurologist, a biologist, or a scientist. If anyone with better credentials than "obsessed with emergent properties" contradicts me, listen to them instead.

Cell membranes include little portal proteins that open under certain circumstances based on the shape of the protein and let chemicals into and out of the cell. These portals are useful for all sorts of things: managing water and nutrients, sending messages to nearby cells, serving the whims of tiny intercellular cats. Science hasn't found the tiny intercellular cats yet, but we all know they're there; the existence of a door that can be opened necessarily implies an indecisive feline.

Some protein shapes open up if the temperature is within a certain range. This means that if a cell with that sort of protein in its membrane experiences a temperature in the right range, it will move some chemicals around. This is used to make nerve cells that send a message towards the brain whenever they experience a certain temperature.

Because evolution does all its best work the night before the deadline while on a Code Red Mountain Dew bender, the opened-by-temperature portal proteins are mostly copied from opened-by-a-specific-chemical portal proteins. All of them, in fact, still open for specific chemicals, which means there exist out in the world liquids you can put in a bottle that most animals will instead perceive as "a temperature between 8 and 26 degrees" So things can get a little weird.

Temperature-opening portal proteins:

TRPA1 Opens for temperatures below 12C (not air temperature, skin or body temperature, so you might be kind of in trouble when this happens). Used by hunting snakes to detect where heat isn't so they can find prey. Feels painful in an itchy sort of way.

This one also opens for allyl isothiocyanate. Many plants have evolved to take advantage of the existence of a chemical most animals perceive as itchy pain, especially horseradish and wasabi. Allyl isothiocyanate is harmful to plants, so they keep two separate components in tiny compartments. When an animal bites the plant, the compartments break open their contents mix to create allyl isothiocyanate.

"This plant tastes like itching" is a good defense against almost all animals, but some humans have taught themselves to appreciate the taste of itching.

TRPM8 Opens for temperatures between 8 and 26 degrees. Opens for menthol (peppermint, spearmint, wintergreen) and linalool (roses, orange blossoms, basil). Feels cool or cold.

"This plant tastes like cold" is a somewhat less effective defense against being eaten than "this plant tastes like itching" but it's a more widespread defense because TRPM8-activating chemicals don't harm plants and don't need elaborate two-part storage.

TRPV4 Opens for temperatures from 27-37 C. I'm not sure what this one feels like, or if even feels like anything, since it covers normal human body temperatures. Whatever feeling we get from this one, we're feeling it nearly all the time.

Plants do make a chemical that tastes like this temperature, and it can repel nonhuman creatures with different body temperatures: allicin, the flavour of garlic. Like allyl isothiocyante, it is stored in two compartments inside the plant, and combined when the plant is bitten.

Maybe this is why vampires abhor garlic. There is a feeling that, as humans, we always have. Something we don't notice, something deeper than touch. That feel disappears forever when you become a vampire, except those unbearable moments when garlic returns to you for a fleeting moment the experience of lost humanity.

TRPV3 Opens for temperatures 33-39 degrees. Opens for eugenol, found in cinnamon, nutmeg, bay leaf, holy basil, ginger, allspice, and cloves. Feels like warmth.

Plants with high quantities of eugenol, like holy basil and Japanese star anise, are sometimes sacred to buddhists because they smell nice and bugs don't like to eat them, so you can burn them as incense without worrying about all the little crawly guys.

Humans apparently think food that tastes like "warm" is comforting.

TRPV1 Opens for temperatures over 43 degrees. (The one I was experiencing in the overheated dome, which I had never felt from air before) Opens for capsaicin, the active chemical in hot peppers. Opens for the combination of temperature and acidity of fevers and infected wounds. This one we feel as pain, as burning, as flame.

TRPV1 says: Your flesh is failing, and your doom is very near.

Humanity says: This is incredible. We are going to breed plants that cause this sensation as much as possible, and we will spend thousands of years getting it right. We are going to dry this and powder this and flake it and grill it and ferment it and eat it with everything.

And when we leave earth and go into space, we take hot peppers with us. Without gravity, fluid builds up in nasal passages, and astronauts sort of have colds the entire time they're in space and can't smell food very well. But the Nearness Of Your Doom is not a smell and is not perceived by the nose, so - with their doom always on the other side of ten centimeters of insulated aluminum - astronauts can taste hot peppers. In 2002, Peggy Whitson, commander of the ISS, jokingly refused to let a replacement crew on board until they handed over the hot sauce.

We are a strange and wonderful species.

[killuakiru]

hello!!! i love your works sm ahhhh (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

may i request headcanons for killua and gon (separately) with an s/o who is really happy and cheerful all the time but their real emotions are actually difficult to read? ty and remember to stay hydrated!! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

HIII ANONNN THANK YOU SOSOSO MUCH !! <33 I am more than happy to comply your request 🤲 thank you for requesting !! Hopefully you'll like it <3

side note : thank you for the requests !! my writer's block is being cured by everyone's brilliant thoughts, thank u also for the support !! I honestly didn't know my words can bring emotions to those of my readers. > < I love yall sososo much, please take care !!

⊹₊⋆ Hidden In Plain Sight !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⊹₊⋆ Gn!Reader x Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecss ( Separate ! )ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

༉‧₊˚. Let's Start !༉‧₊˚.

༉‧₊˚. Killua Zoldyck !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Honestly, Killua was SO attracted to you mainly because he wanted to know you more, that's just who he is ! Even when you experienced horrible things, your smile never falters, leaving him very curious.

• Don't get me wrong, he loves seeing you smile and all that, and he's glad that he makes you laugh.

• But seriously, he can't shake off that feeling. If he says so himself, he can read people's emotions. ( But can be that he's surrounded by ppl who are generally easy to read )

• Ever since, he's been keeping a close eye on you— even before you both made it official. ESPECIALLY since he's not an expert when it comes to emotions.

• He keeps an eye on you on frankly everything. Your reactions if you were hurt physically, your reactions if you were denied or rejected by proposes, etc. He was DETERMINED to know your true emotions.

• But setting all of those to the side— he treats you really well, almost like how he treats Alluka. As his beloved significant other, he made a vow to himself to prioritize your needs first instead of his, knowing how unpredictable you could be.

• Although, hypothetically lets say.. You lost composure. Since you were the natural cheerful type, you'd often attached easily; Kite / Kaito, as an example.

• Kaito taught you three some simple guidance, as well as sharing stories to probably keep the children's nerves at bay. Who wouldn't? The Chimera Ants were an unknown organism, and they were regarded as highly vicious.

• The night Kaito was attacked, the sheer look of horror from your face left Killua stunned, all while Gon had a similar reaction but couldn't hold his inner rage in.

• The next morning while awaiting the Botany Hunters that accompanied Kaito, he saw you so dejected, and it was the first time seeing you like that. Your eyes were so lifeless it genuinely made Killua nervous to his core.

• Similarly to Gon, after he finished moping around, you both recovered within minutes. But Killua probably knew better as your boyfriend.

• Yes, you were back to your cheerful and talkative self, and Killua was glad, but at the same time paranoid. He knew everything had limits, his emotions, Gon's, even yours.

• After seeing that look of terror and melancholy look in your face, he's learned to ask himself; "Are they really okay?" with a heart beating in fear of losing you to succumbing to misery due to the fact you tend to keep your troubles to yourself.

༉‧₊˚. Gon Freecss !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Honestly it's a miracle how he couldn't read your emotions easily. With his keen senses, one would probably think he'd instantly find something out.

• However you were a different case, similarly to Killua, he had a gut feeling— an instinct, if you must.

• Growing up on a mountain and relying on instinct, he knew better than to leave it alone. And so even before you both became a couple, he'd make low-key questions about your wellbeing to understand what you're feeling to an extent, but you'd always brush it off or answer it with a wide smile and cheerful tone.

• Gon just brushed it off after a while, believing your facial expression as your eyes creases in genuine happiness, the way you would grow breathless when you, Killua, and Gon would joke around, he firmly believed you truly were just a happy person and nothing could affect you.

• Unlike Killua, though. Gon didn't watch over you closely. As said previously— he firmly believed you were alright and had a strong mentality.

• Gon believed you can carry yourself, and you proved that point to him ! Whenever you'd be defeated physically and mentally, he'd always watch you standing your ground with a determined expression and a fairly attractive grin.

• But, because of his carelessness, that was his major mistake. He knew your tendencies, you knew his. You both were easily attached to someone and easily trusted them.

• And since Kaito knew Gon's father, you both equally shared the same celebration. Gon had a knew lead to Ging, so any normal significant other would be happy for their boyfriend.

• So the night where Kaito was attacked, ( yes we're using the same scene ), you couldn't comprehend your emotions. Your heart hammered against your chest. Seeing that.. monster that attacked Kaito with no mercy, and that very intimidating aura. So this was a Royal Guard.

• Killua noticed your demeanor, no doubt. Even Kaito, it was clear. How your usual cheerful and light demeanor turned one of a dark and fearful demeanor, Killua tried to nudge Gon. However Gon was too engulfed in his rage to even notice.

• The day he came back to his senses, looking back at it, he felt regret in his actions. While he knew his rage was justified— he wasn't paying attention to you.

• You easily forgave him though. That sent alarming shocks to his nerves. He saw your puffy and tired eyes, even when you smiled he didn't see the familiar creases he'd normally see in your eyes.

• Even after that, his rage grew and grew. But you'd constantly be by his side, so his bloodlust would often be at bay. He loved your warming personality so much and he appreciated every piece of you.

• In the end, after everything was finished, he had grown a habit to occasionally check up on you and your wellbeing. He knew you'd always bottle up your emotions, and he knew you'd break eventually.

• When that time comes, he wants to be with you and guide you through the process. He knows it'll be hard, but he'll be patient with you if you're patient with yourself.

༉‧₊˚. End !༉‧₊˚.

Thank you for reading ! This strictly belongs to me / killuakiru and I do not give permission for you to repost on other platforms, thank you !

[hottiehiei]

Have you ever thought about what soft sex with Hiei would look like? Like a super mushy sweet Hiei just taking time to connect with the human that he loves?? Love what you’ve written ❤️

Ouuu, good question. Thank you, anon! This is for you <33

I added a bit of context to make the moment even sweeter. We love soft Hiei!!!!

The First Time with Hiei

nsfw (nothing too explict), gender neutral

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

𓆩⟡𓆪 It all happened so quickly. Hiei found himself hovering above you, neck and ears flushed red just from looking at you. He should’ve known an innocent kiss would lead to something more. At this stage, kissing was practically dangerous, but how could he ever deny you? It was hard enough keeping his sexual urges at bay, but the second you tugged on his sleeve, asking for more, he was wrapped around your finger.

𓆩⟡𓆪 On rare occasions, Hiei will blush when he’s too overwhelmed. Pay close attention, though. Blink and you’ll miss it! It happens when you touch him endearingly, like caressing the side of his face or placing your palms flat on his chest. And he certainly blushes when paying you a compliment. As you lay underneath him, chest heaving from all the kissing, arms trustingly wrapped around his neck— he can’t help but comment on how irresistible you are. He tries to mask his blush with a little smirk, attempting to remain confident.

𓆩⟡𓆪 That brings us to our next topic: body worship. Hiei loves you wholeheartedly, and you know this, but it’s natural to feel nervous about being naked in front of him. If you’re hesitant to take off your clothes, he will understand. To make you feel better, he lets you take his clothes off first, guiding your hand to his shirt, then his waistband. He avoids your gaze, “You’re not the only one nervous, you know.”

𓆩⟡𓆪 When you're ready, he gradually explores your body, starting with your shoulder and collarbone. After much encouragement, he makes you feel comfortable enough to fully undress without feeling anxious.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Lots and lots of foreplay. Hiei is learning how your body behaves under his touch. Slow grinding (clothed and unclothed) is his way of easing into the act without pushing too far. More blushing ensues, and Hiei can't hold back his moans. It starts as a soft sigh, mostly accidental, but he quickly notices how you react. Of course, he abuses his power, moaning directly next to your ear.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei is very attentive to your needs. He patiently waits for you to adjust to his size, frequently pausing each time you show signs of discomfort. He doesn’t find it bothersome. You simply look too cute for him to be upset. “Just focus on me.”, he says, pampering your face with featherlight kisses. He’s happy to share this moment with you and wants it to last as long as possible. Hiei also intertwines his hands with yours, providing an extra sense of reassurance and comfort.

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

extra:

Since it's his first time, Hiei will orgasm quicker than he intends to.

Howeverrrr, that doesn't mean it's over. He's eager to try again and outdo himself (which means more rounds)

[seeingstarks]

mjf masterlist

best + bitter = better - (mjf x afab!reader) - fluff

divinely sinful - (mjf x daddi doom x afab!reader) - smut

no one better than you baby - (mjf x adam cole x afab!reader) - fluff

on the level of the devil - (mjf x brat afab!reader) - smut

the cream on the cake wants to escape - (mjf x cm punk x plus size afab!reader) - smut

[kk095]

Life and Death in the ER: Dr Lindsay

*Good evening everyone, I hope all is well. I greatly appreciate all the positive feedback on my last story Alexa's Arrhythmia! I'd like to try something a little different with the story you're about to read. Although it may not be everyone's cup of tea, I think it's a great opportunity for you guys to get to know some of our go-to characters a little better. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it!*

Aside from medicine, Dr Lindsay’s passion in life is running. The cute, sporty tomboy doctor we all know and love was a college track star at the D1 college she attended once upon a time ago. Believe it or not, Lindsay had legitimate Olympic aspirations, and at one point in time, she was set to qualify for the United States women’s track team. But fate had other plans, which came in the form of a sudden, severe ACL and LCL tear in her left knee. Reconstructive surgery was performed and she of course recovered, but Lindsay definitely lost her X factor. Even though Lindsay could still run circles around 99% of humanity as a 33 year old with a bum knee, she lost that slight edge all those years ago, which is all it took for her Olympic hopes and dreams to go up in smoke. Sometimes Lindsay thought “what if?” in regards to her potential professional sports career, but at the same time, being an ER physician fulfilled her in a different way.

Lindsay truly embraced her role as a doctor and caretaker in the emergency department, always going the extra mile for her patients and thinking outside the box to try to save them. Time after time, Dr Lindsay found herself in the midst of life and death struggles in the trauma bay, always seeming to have her hands inside the chest of a beautiful woman. But right now, somewhere in an alternate reality, the role was reversed, with Lindsay being the beauty fighting for her life in the all too familiar emergency department.

The room Lindsay found herself in was quite a scene. A cacophony of sound hit anyone the instant they set foot in the room. Alarms and monitors were going off. Orders were being barked. Footsteps pitter-pattered around the room. The high pitched, electrical whirring of defibrillators charging echoed around the room from yet another unsuccessful shock. The tension was palpable.

All across the floor of the room, various items were strewn about. Wrappers from bits of medical equipment were tossed to the ground. Empty, used up blood transfusion and IV bags found themselves discarded. Lindsay’s bloody, tattered clothes also wound up on the light colored tile after a brief encounter with a set of shears. Small droplets of blood made a trail leading from the room’s entrance, all the way over to where the trauma room table was.

On the table, underneath the harsh, bright, fluorescent overhead light was the center of attention for the room’s occupants. Dr Sarah, Nurse Nancy, and Nurse Heather worked as a trio, each lady knowing their role inside out, backwards and forwards, from A to Z. Everyone knew their jobs at an expert level, but it was easier said than done for the emergency department’s triumvirate to maintain composure and impartiality, considering a friend and colleague was the poor soul requiring their lifesaving services this time.

Nurse Nancy, the 20+ year veteran of the ER who’s been there, done that, and seen it all stood at the head of the bed ambu bagging, sending much needed air into Dr Lindsay’s lungs. The stress, chaos, gore, and shock that came with being an ER nurse never fazed Nancy, especially after being exposed to such things for over two decades. But in this scenario, Nancy struggled. This wasn’t a stranger on the table tonight. Nurse Nancy couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of the ER’s go-to, unanimously loved leader being the one on the table this time. Heck, Nancy couldn’t even bring herself to look down at the table, not wanting to see her friend’s face, or the overall shape she was in. There was a knot in Nancy’s stomach, and her heart was racing. She hoped and prayed Dr Lindsay would pull through, but as each minute ticked by, each one faster than the last, Nancy’s hope was soon replaced by dread.

Heather, our emergency team’s dependable, hardworking nurse who regularly showed her moxie, stood off to the side of the table, tasked with keeping an eye on the heart monitors in order to note any changes, as well as pushing meds and setting up any equipment Dr Sarah may need. Heather’s eyes were trained on the heart monitors, which displayed a squiggly, sinuous, unorganized line. That squiggly line Heather watched signified something called ventricular fibrillation- a situation where a patient’s heart is twitching instead of actually beating, typically requiring a defibrillator shock in order to restore normal cardiac activity. Ventricular fibrillation, commonly known as v-fib amongst healthcare professionals, was something Heather has seen more times than she could count during her handful of years as a nurse. However, Heather found herself stunned when eyeing the heart monitor, coming to the stark realization that a familiar face was the one being resuscitated this time.

Dr Sarah, the cute, petite, nerdy redheaded doctor who, for all intents and purposes, was Dr Lindsay’s right hand man and most important ally in the battlegrounds of the trauma bay, stood right up against the table, doing anything and everything to bring her fellow ER doc back. Sarah had her gloved hands inside Lindsay’s chest, which was splayed open earlier in the struggle via a clamshell thoracotomy. The redheaded doctor’s hands were firmly wrapped around Dr Lindsay’s boggy, fibrillating heart, vigorously massaging away. A wet, rhythmic squishing sound was produced from Sarah’s internal compressions. “come on Linds… come on….” Sarah uttered under her breath, trying to fight the overwhelming emotions that attempted to consume her. “You were just talking to us Linds… Come on…” continued Sarah, trying to will Lindsay back amongst the living.

Sarah composed herself for a moment. “Let’s shock her again. Recharge the paddles to 30, Heather.” Ordered Sarah, stepping up to the plate. Heather did what she had to do. She set the crash cart to 30 joules and hit the charge button. The high pitched, electrical whining of the internal paddles charging filled the room as Heather handed Sarah the large, spoon shaped devices. Sarah pulled her hands out of Lindsay’s chest cavity and grabbed ahold of the internal paddles. Dr Sarah lowered the internal paddles into the gaping chasm of an incision site, around Lindsay’s erratically fluttering heart.

While her friends worked urgently to save her, Lindsay laid on the table, stripped completely nude, her toned, athletic body on full display in a room full of familiar faces, the violating nature of that fact going to the wayside due to the dire essence of the situation. Lindsay’s sandy, light brown hair was tied back in a messy bun or ponytail of sorts, being held in place with a black headband. The doctor’s icy, sky blue eyes remained open, her pupils the size of dimes, staring up above with a full blown death stare etched onto her face. She was intubated, with the ET tube being secured by a blue tube holder around the area of her mouth and lips. IV lines stuck out of both her arms. Her torso was littered with EKG electrodes and wires. A chest tube stuck out the left side of Lindsay’s ribs, redirecting blood and trapped air outwards. The rest of her upper torso, and belly to a lesser degree, were soaked with a combination of both blood and betadine. However, Lindsay’s chest was the main sight of shock and awe. Her chest had a large, crude, gash just below the nipple line, extending the entirety of her chest horizontally. Not only was there a massive gash, her sternum was sawed in half, and her chest was splayed open via a clamshell thoracotomy. A metal rib retractor sat dead center in her chest, keeping everything open. A large, metal vascular clamp stuck up and out of the incision site. Sarah could also be seen holding the internal defibrillator paddles in place in anticipation of a shock.

“Paddles charged. Everyone… CLEAR!” Dr Sarah called out, everyone else stepping back from the table. THWACK. The shock was delivered. “mmmph…” Lindsay moaned softly, her torso twitching sharply in response to Sarah’s shock. The trio paused after the shock. The monitors beeped fast and loud, everyone’s eyes looking over to see if there was a change. “Come on… she’s still in v-fib. I’m going again at 30. Everyone…. CLEAR!” shouted Dr Sarah, immediately shocking Lindsay again. Lindsay’s shoulders shrugged forward and her arms shivered, a wet thump being heard. Like before, Dr Lindsay’s heartbeat was unable to be restored. Sarah decided to up the ante, shocking her friend and coworker at 40 joules during the next go around. “MMMM!” Lindsay moaned louder, as if she could feel the stronger intensity of the shock. Again, v-fib persisted. “I’m going again at 40! Everyone…CLEAR!” Barked Sarah, determined to keep going. The next shock caused Lindsay’s toes to scrunch up hard at the far end of the table, showing off the bright white nail polish on her toes, along with the wavy, thin, but prominent wrinkles that permeated the soles of the big, size 11 feet she was always so self conscious of.

Sarah wasn’t giving up, and neither was v-fib, so the fight was on. “Going again at 40! Everyone… CLEAR!!!” Sarah passionately yelled out, shocking Lindsay once more. Lindsay’s torso shot up and plopped back down hard all within the span of a second. The monitors kept alarming, but by that point, the trio tuned out the noise of the monitors, considering they were well aware there was a major problem. In the seconds after that shock, Lindsay’s heart fluttered and danced weakly for a moment, before coming to a sudden, complete stop. The heart monitors flatlined, and Lindsay’s heart sat completely motionless inside her cracked open chest. Lindsay’s beautiful blue eyes stayed wide open, staring up above, almost as if she was watching her friends determine their next move.

The flatline on the monitors was an absolute gut punch for everyone. Sarah stood there holding the internal paddles, deep in rumination about her next move. At the head of the bed, Nurse Nancy shined a pen light into Lindsay’s eyes. Lindsay’s pupils were the size of dimes, completely blown, not reacting to the pen light in the slightest. “oh… poor baby…” Nancy uttered, placing the pen light back in her breast pocket. “Pupils fixed and dilated.” Nancy continued, informing everyone, shaking her head. Heather looked over at the heart monitor. “Asystole on the monitors, down 37 minutes.” Added Heather. There was a collective pause after Heather’s words. Nancy didn’t say anything, but she went ahead and detached the ambu bag from the ET tube, a small amount of air quietly hissing out. The two nurses looked over at Sarah, knowing they’ve done all they could for their friend, but needed Sarah to make the final call.

Dr Sarah stood there shell shocked. Sure, Sarah has lost patients before- any ER doctor has. But this was different. This was a coworker. A colleague. A leader. Someone she looked up to. But most importantly, this was a friend. Sarah felt morally and emotionally obligated to continue resuscitation efforts. How could she just give up on Lindsay? At the same time, Dr Sarah viewed the situation clinically and logically. She knew that all possible options were exhausted. An asystolic patient with a downtime of 37 minutes and blown pupils was too far gone for additional interventions. With all this in mind, Sarah snapped back to reality, eyeing each member of the trauma team. Dr Sarah didn’t say a word to any of them. Finally, her eyes looked over at the clock that sat on the back left wall of the room. Sarah gently placed the internal paddles back down on the crash cart, then peeled her blood soaked, latex gloves off, her heart racing, eventually making the dreaded announcement. “Time of death, 8:08pm…” Sarah’s voice wobbling, on the verge of tears.

Nobody said a word, but everyone knew exactly what to do next. Nurse Nancy switched off the flatlined monitors, silencing the once noisy, hectic room. Heather disconnected the EKG electrodes and removed the IVs from each of Dr Lindsay’s arms. A blue surgical drape was hastily tossed on top of the open thoracotomy site, obscuring Lindsay’s inert, motionless heart from view. A toe tag was then filled out and placed on the big toe of Lindsay’s left foot. The tag dangled against the fine, thin, but prominent wrinkles that permeated the soles of Lindsay’s feet. Lastly, a cover was placed over Lindsay, concealing the hauntingly beautiful gaze forever etched onto her face. Unfortunately for Lindsay, a cruel twist of fate- and perhaps irony resulted in her dying in the very place she spent so much of her time. In this alternate reality, Dr Lindsay was now the hottie who laid toe tagged and under a sheet in the emergency department.

[hutahuta]

Thoughts on Pavia introducing his GF to his wolf family? Maybe they already knew bc he’d come home smelling different and now they know who that other scent belongs to. I love the domestic idea of GF living with Pavia and telling the wolves to “go to papa” like GF is mama to the wolves also

P.AGE OO.5 — 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐌 & NOBILITY : 交 ✦ ⏱

fem!reader // x pavia

✦ — this is SO cute awkawksjsdksj our precious babyy <33 i love you so much for this wjsjajsjs my heart ;(((

He was never one to settle down for a domestic life. But to think— You'd make such a good wife for him, though. Wouldn't you? Hearty meals every single day, venturing out into the world beyond together and preparing him that tender bath he needed after spilling ever the amount of blood when slaughtering his prey alive when he's out and about on his job.

You, however, have yet to meet his family. Pavia was 100% reluctant at first. This is his blood, his kin. The only family he'd ever grown to have and love. But you're his beloved girlfriend, aren't you? That famous, sweet voice of his bitterly adding the cold tone in which he spoke of.

' Come in, it's fine. Just be careful not to be eaten by them. '

What did he mean by that? Those playful 'jokes' of his always left you rendered silent, but your innocent mind nervously laughed it off.

It was jarring how someone like you could even become his S/O. You're perfect in more ways than one, and he can see it. So why meddle yourself with someone so tainted as him? That man has blood on his hands. Human blood.

Nevertheless, it seemed as though you were adamant on being with him. But he always told you in such a playful manner, that you're an idiot for thinking to fall in love with someone like him. But your persistence and your constant support on his behalf had both annoyed him and made him adore you.

Here you were now, simply waiting under the humble sofa which you had sat neatly atop. Your eyes transfixed on the battered, torn papers left in a mess within the tables, the dimly lit room proved to be no more than his fault.. and this distraction kept you at bay before you felt something wet sniff the bridge of your leg.

Whether you looked down in quiet silence or you freaked out is your choice, but Pavia couldn't help but quietly watch from a distance, not involving himself unless if needed. He saw this as a test of some sort.

This was the only family he'd have back then. Darkness swelled around Pavia, and he'd be forever alone until that faithful day he had met you. No longer shall he fester in silence and fight his constant urge to burn every building within the area whenever he'd spark back to the day he'd been locked up. Everyone has some trauma in them, and it often shapes them how they are today:

For Pavia's case, he may say things that he doesn't mean or struggles to pick up on social cues, but that doesn't make him any less different when you tell him that you love that he's fighting for your love day in, day out.

But the moment his fellow canine friends surrounded you with the constant sniffing and your patient nature making them seem like you're no threat, you were greeted by a sudden lick against your cheek. They knew. Of course they did. They have a better sense of trust than most humans.

You were sure Pavia may have prepared them by adorning his wall with the many pictures of you within his room, and that familiar face definitely echoed something within their minds, but it proved to be all content when Andrea started drooling on your shoes and Pavia seemed to scold her for it; snapping out of your thoughts in an instant.

Your scent to a wolf is everything. This is how they trace you, mark you, and familiarise themselves with you. When Pavia returned home with a different scent to his own, the constant barking to the foreign scent made them seem like you were harming Pavia.

 You didn't flinch, but you waited until their eyes gave some sort of approval for you to touch, and when you did, by the gods did the angels send you directly to heaven when they tickled you with their noses and pulled off one another just to be seated by your sides, or your lap. Constant pets, adorned with kisses on their foreheads, gentle giggles breezed a reminder of how utterly mother-like you are..

To think, Pavia would ask himself. Would you treat his own children like that one day?

The sight nearly drowned the merc in a wave of relief, but a heavy laugh followed over from how you, yourself, were getting mercilessly drowned by the constant affection feeding into you seconds after. You muffled a plea for help and mercy, but your body was overcome with the shadows that happily lapped up heavy affection from just a few touches from you, patience and understanding.

Whether you knew how to handle dogs or not is genuinely your own skill choice, but Pavia will never forget how you willingly offered your safety to allow yourself as to get to know his own kin.

Trust radiated between human and beast, connections transcended out of the boundaries between the ordinary world and it offered them a place where they could wonder the touch of a woman's hand. So gentle and patient, yet firm and strict.

What might've taken a few weeks, turned into months when you were regularly greeted by whimpers that direly needed your attention so often, fur being shoved against your bare skin became a norm for you.

Pavia couldn't hold back the moment you kneeled down and spread your arms for Peter to dash in almost immediately:

Or the time you'd hold back your laughter from the drool being trailed against the floor to the cupboard when Andrea brushed past your leg.

Being patient with Maleficent, offering gentle pats and kisses for all to love.

When they'd all huddle around you, you're constantly in a battle of affection when they'd refuse to leave your side. They've lacked feminine touch, and neither the pups or Pavia realised how much it truly meant for your warmth to strike them all in the gut.

'Go to papa darlings.' ' Go help your papa, okay?'

To say he was astounded by how patient you were with them is something he'll never grow tired of. And 'Papa'? Pavia swooned.

How dare you attack him with that beautiful feeling of a heartache that swelled nothing but love and admiration for you?

When sleeping, they'd all huddle around you both. As if you were their parents, the ones they'd long for. Pavia never realised he needed such a domestic life until he had found you. When you offered that place of comfort, the only thing he'd need to ever worry about was straying too far away from you.

Gentle lips touched his own as you quietly mumble a soft 'thank you' as if to say you were honoured to have spent a lot of time with his blood. He couldn't explain how he wanted to thank you, but no words came out. He just held you. Right there, in his arms. And rocked back and forth as if to claim that he was grateful for all your hard work. Something he truly admired..

Your protection is guided by him, and your kin. You're one of them now, and you're entirely his. <3

[hwaightme]

Making wishes

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI (nsfw tags under cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)

HAPPY (slightly belated) BIRTHDAY @cheollipop !!!!!! Nora I love you so so much, and when you asked me to do a lil birthday request for you I could not be more honoured. Thank you so much for existing, being the beautiful kind person that you are, thank you for sharing your art and your wonderful mind with all of us; I am wishing you happiness, love, health, luck, all the best and more <33 Smooches and huge hugs

🎂 pairing: bf!wooyoung x f!reader x best friend!seonghwa 🎂 genre: smut, pwp, fluff, established relationship into a poly relationship 🎂 summary: making wishes on shooting stars, on burning candles, you wanted one thing to come true. seonghwa and wooyoung are more than willing to celebrate the birthday girl. 🎂 wordcount: 7.0k 🎂 warnings/tags: poly relationship formation, language, an interesting kind of birthday party, slight(?) woohwa - relationship is a product of FICTION and does not imply ANYTHING in reality, food/eating, birthday wishes, woo being a menace, stalling hwa, a lot of love and acceptance, questionably edited (in true bai fashion), first poly fic so... yes; lmk if anything else 🎂 a/n: wishing everyone love and kindness. happy birthday nora, ilysm and i hope you enjoy!

🎂 permanent taglist: @doom-fics @legohwas @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @/cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @mystar1024 @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @ssaboala @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt

🎂 cannot be tagged: @hjoymyluv @memoriesofwoo @ate-ez

🎂 nsfw tags: soft dom!hwa, switch!woo, sub leaning!reader, blowjobs (yes, in plural), the lightest bit of degradation (not towards reader), praise, petnames (love, sweet, pretty...), throatfucking, cum in mouth + swallow, eating out + fingering, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), cum inside, threesome (why yes, two at the same time), soft aftercare, a lot of affection

“Hwa, do you know where-”

“Top cupboard on the far right. Behind the glass noodles packet. And no, not the blue packet. The one on the right. I told you it would be better to put it in a different cupboard.”

“... hey that’s… uh… okay… thanks.” you gave up quickly enough, fully aware that, no matter what retort you would make, Seonghwa was right. But he would never force you to change your habits and preferences even if he desperately wished so, because then who would ask him where the ingredients were in their own kitchen?

He knew you. Knew you better than you did. Seonghwa knew where you put things, knew what you truly meant when you spoke, knew how you felt depending on how you walked. Down to the tiniest tilt of your head or a raise of the eyebrow, he tried his best to read every nuance and learn every interpretation, and even after years of friendship, you were still his favourite story. If he could, he would never take his gaze off you, simply because in you he had found the tale that he always wanted to be part of.

As Seonghwa watched you reach for the bag of icing sugar - the product of you having forced your way into the preparations for your birthday after convincing him with your very best attempt at puppy eyes that you wanted to ‘share the burden’, he could not help but follow every movement. Biting his lower lip, Seonghwa desperately wished to lull his mind before it began to yell, though judging by the way his breath had gotten shallower as you lithely stretched towards the shelf, it was a bit too late for that, and instead he had to continue kicking himself. Over, and over, and over again. That he was stuck in the cliche scenario of being a lovesick best friend with no chance of ever even admitting his feelings.

It was easy to fall in love with you. So easy, in fact, that he had not noticed until it was far too late, and there was no room for you to hear his confessions. Frankly, had he been quicker on his internal uptake, Seonghwa had at least a year in his favour before the ‘official roadblock’ showed up. But no. Instead he had to be all blushes and smiles, trips to the Lego store and Star Wars movie marathons without any steps forward. Why? Because the last thing he wanted was to ever let you go. And to attempt to change things, even if Seonghwa desperately sought it, implied that the risk of you banishing him from your life would grow exponentially higher.

He could never see you as a stranger. As a daydream? Sure. As a fantasy? Undoubtedly. But as a passing face, a figure that would simply disappear from his heart and mind? After all that you had been through, the ups and downs, the trials and terrific successes, you were a permanent presence in his life. Perhaps even the epicentre of his musings, especially in the last few months. Because over this time, suddenly, he was not quite confident in his reasoning for your bashful smiles, the glimmer in your dazzling eyes, the lightness in your every step. Or at least, was not quite confident that it was ever him that caused you to act that way anymore. Seonghwa had grown too comfortable being around you but not with you, assuming that these two were the same thing. He had grown accustomed to kissing you on the cheek in greeting and in parting because that was ‘what friends did’, even though it was so far from the truth. Many times he had been questioned about your relationship, and he would simply brush it off. Apparently he did that too well. So well that you had been brushed away too and right into the arms of his own friend. Seonghwa, being the overly confident fool that he was, introduced you to Wooyoung, and watched as your acquaintanceship bloomed into friendship and soon enough into you calling that man your boyfriend. Your significant other. Any affectionate name or title that you would choose for him simply reminded Seonghwa that he had lost in the race to your heart. Nevertheless, his passions did not subside. He tried to extinguish them, tried to speak casually and behave cooly, but that only backfired when both you and Wooyoung only amplified your kindness, insisting that he needed to ‘be taken care of too’, and doting on him until all there was left for him to do was to admit to himself that he was deeply, unchangeably in love with you, and even the presence of a boyfriend could not deter him anymore. In fact, perhaps due to his close relationship with Wooyoung, he only felt that he would simply be a nice addition. Fit into your life like a puzzle piece, complementing both you and your boyfriend perfectly. He was perfectly aware that Wooyoung could satisfy you in ways that he couldn’t, but at the same time, Seonghwa knew you and Wooyoung, and thus could guess exactly how he could create the ideal harmony.

This was why he had jumped at the opportunity when you had messaged him with discussions for your birthday plans. You were never one to organise large gatherings, but even then the event turned into a family celebration to which Seonghwa was automatically invited. As such, when he heard that you wanted a more ‘intimate’ setting with just a couple of people and only your favourite things, his brain went into overdrive. A couple of people. As you had explicitly stated as soon as you invited him - you, him and Wooyoung: the most important people in your life, your past, present and future. The words had made his heart ache as he rapidly accepted the invitation and now found himself in the same kitchen as you and your boyfriend, feeling anything but like the odd one out, the third wheel.

It was in the lingering touches as you passed by him, the welcoming glances from Wooyoung as he would gingerly sidestep to get an item from another part of the kitchen, and some piece of information, a secret, strung tightly in the air right above his head and shooting between the two of you that resulted in what Seonghwa wanted to label as something reminiscent of smugness. Occasionally, you would look at Wooyoung and raise an eyebrow, as if you were waiting for some kind of instruction from him. This had led the latter to behave more freely, every bit a sly fox as he spoke in euphemisms, symbols and symphonies of comedic artistry that left Seonghwa baffled. Wooyoung’s attentiveness to the older man’s every reaction was astounding. From a light touch on the shoulder when they slumped as he was uneasy from a new mess made during cooking, or to a wink thrown in his direction as Wooyoung noticed him stiffen as you ambled past his form, hands on his waist to balance yourself as you squeezed between Seonghwa and the island counter.

A couple of hours later, in his peripherals unfolded the beginning of what he could only mark as a pivotal moment in his life. You called Wooyoung over casually, not giving a sign that there was anything particular that you wanted to ask, and how he embraced you, his chest pressed against your back only made Seonghwa want to sigh, wondering how it would be if he were to be able to do that limitlessly, instead of always worrying where his hands were, how long he should hold you, whether the action was making you uncomfortable. All he wanted was to be able to drift into a paradise with you in his arms, and feel your heart beating in unison with his. Voices dropped into a whisper, and inadvertently, Seonghwa caught himself half-closing the tap to reduce the cacophony it produced for even a little slip of a conversation to fly in his direction. To no avail - with barely any exchange between you, you and your boyfriend appeared to speak in codes, aside from one unexpectedly sultry gaze from you that sent Seonghwa’s mind reeling.

There was not much left for you to consider. It had been clear to you since a couple of years ago that you were not platonically indifferent towards Seonghwa. He was the subject of your desires, had appeared multiple times in your wildest dreams, and was both a source of comfort and agitation because, despite him always ‘being there’ for you, you wanted more. You needed more. He was like an unreachable star who you were inexplicably drawn to, and even though you had ample opportunity to be with him, and were close, it was not enough. The lightyears that separated you left you unsatiated with the relationship, because you wanted to give Seonghwa love. And more of it. With every moment that had past, you had found yourself flying deeper and deeper into outer space in the hopes of reaching this lonely star and share with it your own shine, so that together, you could be brighter than ever before. You prayed for shooting stars in the sky, so that you could make wish after wish, asking the same thing every time: that he would take the step and reveal the meaning behind his glimmer when you were around, that he would utter the words that you wanted to hear, that he would feel the same. But no such thing. You had been left in suspense - a grey zone from which neither of you dared to venture.

That was, until Wooyoung had entered your life, and set the ashes on fire. He was perceptive, a dreamer and a doer, not stopping at a set routine, always ready to find the optimum if it meant sharing happiness. To him, the situation was easy. As soon as he discovered that you were in love with Seonghwa, he took it upon himself to observe his friend, only to burst into a fit of laughter at just how oblivious both of you were, and how lucky he was to have both of you in his life along with the ability to let it all fall into place. The plan was easy enough. Without giving too much detail, Wooyoung proposed that Seonghwa needed to be shocked into a confession, and you agreed. After all, what harm could an attempt do when your feelings had reached a point of no return? You had naively believed that Wooyoung was going to approach this carefully, cautiously, likely because you had dared to believe that a flame could not be scalding, but no such luck. What you wished for, was a sacred plea to him, and he was not going to make the birthday girl wait for longer than she had already done. As soon as he moved away from you and pretended to return to his duties as chef, he lit the match and dropped it into the sea of sensual gasoline.

“You know that Y/N loves you, right?” Wooyoung shot through the silence, words sharper than a knife. Seonghwa turned his head to face the man beside him, only to see someone so nonchalant, almost bored, that he could not help but question the words. You were still, aside from the fingers that flittered across the counter, drumming as erratic as the one in your chest. 

“Ha, very funny, yeah.” he responded with forced joviality, trying to refocus on washing the dishes even though he knew this was futile. The rhythmic chopping stopped and out of the corner of his eye Seonghwa could see your boyfriend put the knife down onto the cutting board.

Rapidly placing the dish he had been scrubbing onto the drying rack, he cleared the space for Wooyoung to wash his hands. This new quiet wave, accompanied only by the running tap was more deafening, oppressive, all-consuming as the phrase echoed around Seonghwa’s mind. ‘She loves you’. This had to be some kind of test; Wooyoung was known for his tricks and banter, so it was not beyond him to spit out the wild notion just to see how his friend would react. For that extra bit of knowledge. But he gave away nothing, so he looked at you, and was pierced by your gaze. The dazzling eyes, galaxies enveloping him, drawing him in as if to command him to accept the question as the truth.

Wooyoung took his time, fully aware of the attention that was on him, and the growing distress in which Seonghwa found himself. But that only fuelled his desire to say nothing. To keep the suspicions and hope floating in the air and in his control, and have Seonghwa right where he wanted him, or more specifically, where you wished Seonghwa would be. Wooyoung watched as the water trickled over his skin, and let his mind wander. You were stood behind him, frozen in one spot as you ogled Seonghwa, waiting for any more words from him or from your boyfriend. Clutching onto a towel, you were attempting to curb and ignore the butterflies that flew to your stomach as you witnessed the change in your best friend’s eyes which could only be described as a deepset, long-concealed affection that had finally been given the opportunity to breathe. Perhaps there was a chance for change, just as Wooyoung had told you before Seonghwa’s arrival into your home. You had been explicit in your feelings when Wooyoung had asked you out, and truth be told, he had expected it; it had been surprising enough to discover that you were, in fact, single, and not on the verge of celebrating a honeymoon, so to hear that you harboured less than platonic feelings for your friend felt only natural.

Even if you had not told this to Wooyoung specifically, it was obvious: you changed when you were with Seonghwa. The very image of serenity, you carried yourself with unparalleled grace when he was by your side. Though you did let your playful and carefree self through, it was always less for companionship but for comfort that Seonghwa readily provided. He was an anchor for you. Your beacon of light that you trusted with your life and more. He was more than important - he was essential. Your clarity. Maybe if Wooyoung was foolish enough, and you had not revealed the longing you had for the taller man, he could have passed it off to be simply an example of platonic soulmates, two people who had gone through so much together that it was not possible for either of them to exist without the other. Not because they were dependent, but because they were one another’s ‘home’. It was clear that platonic boundaries had been long forgotten between you and Seonghwa, only a large question mark remaining, and neither of you daring to turn it into a full-stop and call things what they were. Wooyoung could see the yearning burning within you, how you hoped for your friend to take that next step any time you called or spent time together. Even in Wooyoung’s presence, you were unabashedly drawn to the other man, and that, interestingly enough, made him fall even deeper for you. Your unparalleled ability to give love astounded him to no end, and ignited within him the desire to provide, the desire to show you that you were more than worthy of not only his love, but the love of the first man who had become a part of your universe. Seonghwa simply needed a gentle nudge in the right direction, Wooyoung had decided, and he was the one who was going to give it - a birthday present from him to you, and a belated one for his friend.

"Listen. She. Loves. You. Isn't that right, hm?" You could only nod, attached to the scene unfolding before you with predator-like focus. Your boyfriend’s words: so simple, and yet so hard-hitting that you almost laughed at the shocked expression on Seonghwa’s face, only just barely being able to contain yourself as it transformed into one that oozed trepidation.

Wooyoung promptly shook the majority of the water droplets clinging onto his hands as he closed the tap, and methodically dried them with the towel hanging from a hook attached to the sink cupboard. He discreetly observed Seonghwa’s rising nerves, barely able to stifle the smirk, threatening to break out across his lips due to the satisfaction brought on by the suspense that he had conjured. Anxious, confused, but above all, timidly delighted in the sly off-handed comment. Without a doubt Seonghwa was trying to guess what Wooyoung had planned, and the latter could hardly contain his excitement. Perhaps in some ways, he was being selfish by being the instigator of something he too had been wishing for since you had started dating, but the older male’s burning stares and lingering gazes that had commenced as soon as he walked through the door into the apartment served as enough motivation - all that remained was the final spark.

He walked up to Seonghwa until he was in a dizzying proximity, scrutinising him through half-lidded eyes. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he beckoned the man to turn his head and face him, and asked you to come near with a quick flick of the other hand. Scoffing at the unceremonious expression of power, you bit your inner cheek to suppress a snarky remark, aware that Wooyoung was only working in your favour. Never before had you seen your best friend this on edge, simultaneously disoriented and yearning for more, glances darting from Wooyoung to you and back. Bored from the lack of a progression, your boyfriend decided to cease stalling.

"Right. How is it that you, and you, two pretty best friends, spend years together, and not once get with one another?" you could see the bobbing of Seonghwa’s larynx as he swallowed some spit. His eyebrows furrowed, and he tilted his head as though to check if you agreed with what was being said. Upon seeing no easily readable reaction, he muttered:

"What?"

"I can hear the gears moving in your head Seonghwa, what's your answer?" Wooyoung was not letting up, the tension getting to him, leaving the world a climbing haze. Every single one of his senses appeared to be elevated, accentuating every sound, every smell, every twitch of his muscles against his clothes. It was impossible to contain his contentment as he took not of his friend readjusting how he was standing, as if there was a certain physical discomfort beginning to give way. Wooyoung knew well enough as to what it could be, and as such, cut off every single one of Seonghwa’s attempts to steer the conversation in a different, lighter direction.

"To-"

"Do you love her too?"

"But-"

"Seonghwa, do you trust me?" seeing as the taller man was not letting himself reveal his desire to simply lock you in his arms, the need contained in his burning orbs only, Wooyoung decided to slightly switch tactics bringing in their closeness as friends, as two people ready to blur the lines in search of that sensual perfection.

"Of course."

And you know that I trust you too, right?"

"Mhm…"

"So?"

"I…" Seonghwa picked at the sleeve of his light blue sweater, unable to face you. He felt he was too close to ruining the years of friendship that had been so carefully built up, all because of Wooyoung. The man was surely joking, he had to be. In no way were you-

Your hand grazed his upper arm, forcing him to look back up and meet you. Ever so tender, ever so caring, it was as though you were admiring the starry night sky when you revered him - it was not too far from the truth, considering that this wondrous man was indeed, who you saw as your universe. As a keeper of stars, someone who you desperately wished would envelop you and adore you and let you and Wooyoung adore him just like you had wished, year in, year out.

"Did you short-circuit?" Wooyoung asked, voice dropping into a whisper.

"A bit."

"Time for extreme measures."

Eyes impossibly wide and cheeks going red, Seonghwa could only stop and stare as Wooyoung pulled him towards himself and plant a fervent kiss on his lips. Before he could push away the man had already pulled back with a satisfied smirk, only to turn to you and wink before leaning into another kiss. You swore you could taste Seonghwa on his lips, sweeter than you could ever imagine. Melting into the sensuality, you could feel excitement rising in your chest. The intensity heightened, and you felt your boyfriend's hands snake around your waist all the while, upon peeking, you saw Seonghwa's blazing, darkened orbs studying you. His expression was unreadable, first clenched, lips slightly parted, and only one question on his mind: 'how dare he?'

"So, how does he taste? Sweet, right?" Wooyoung asked you, voice laden with mischief and anticipation for what would be a dizzying paradise.

"Better than I could have ever imagined."

"So this was your plan?" Seonghwa broke the momentary silence, a newfound hostility with notes of unbelievably strong craving. His tone dropped lower, until it was all that you could focus on. One hand travelled to his lips, fingers cautiously touching them, in disbelief at what had just unfolded. With a smirk the man reached for you, forcing your arms to fall from your boyfriend’s shoulders, where they had found themselves when you kissed, pulling you close until his hips were pressed against you, revealing the true effect of Wooyoung’s teases.

"Ye-"

"Because it fucking worked, alright. To answer the question, yes, I do love you. Longer than he did. And yet here he is, pulling rank, huh?" giving Wooyoung a side-eye, he muttered. 

"Oh yes, of course Hwa."

"Well aren't you getting overly friendly..."

"Depending on what you are gonna do we're about to get even friendlier than that." Seonghwa took a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. Barely audible, you backtracked, feverishly trying to explain the thought process, the story behind this little ploy, a wave of fear inching closer to you as you felt your friend’s fingers dig into your side, breathing becoming more ragged, shallower.

"Wooyoung and I had talked about this for the first time when we started dating. I need you Hwa. He needs you too. And… well… yeah. That is… our side of the story, so… I'm sorry we should have just sat you down and talked or something-"

"Seems you didn't get a good enough taste since you are still talking."

"Oh?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, the switch in his friend's attitude catching him pleasantly off-guard.

"Tell me what's my limit." Seonghwa addressed you, his face barely an inch away from yours, hot breath against your skin, leaving you aching for more, for him to take the final step and let your history burn.

"None."

"Neither of you?" he looked at Wooyoung, who was observing with a wolfish grin, hand running through his hair.

“I think we have all waited long enough.”

In a matter of a single moment, a spark, Seonghwa’s lips were on yours, leading you into the paradise which you had been isolating exclusively to your musings. It was intoxicating, all-consuming, making you feel as though nothing else existed, and that you had been given the power to embrace the universe itself, the explosive pleasure of being in rhythmic bliss with the man you had longed for proving to be almost too much. And yet, you needed more, of him, of his touch, of his presence right against you. A soft moan escaped you as he deepened the kiss, which only led to him pressing himself into you, barely stopping you from stumbling back.

Wooyooung, satisfied with himself, and with the scene unfolding before him, reached out to push back a stray lock of black hair from Seonghwa’s face, suggesting that they take this to somewhere more comfortable. Breaking away, both of you looked at the shorter man, eyes clouded, lustful, and you took his hand, squeezing it in gratitude and let yourself be guided to your wildest dream that had previously been deemed unobtainable.

"Oh no no, tonight this pretty cunt is mine. You're going to prep her for me, Woo, while I see what she can do here..."

Seonghwa ran a finger over your jawline, his other hand at the base of his cock, pumping it a couple of times. Obediently, Wooyoung followed the instruction and moved so that he was right next to your pussy, admiring just how slick it already was by running two fingers between your lips, stopping at your clit to rub a few circles, highlighting its erectness. You whined at the feeling, trying to grind into his hand in the hopes of more contact, but Seonghwa prevented you from asking for any more by grasping your jaw and guiding you onto his dick, sighing as you took his length. Stopping midway as he felt your throat constrict, he asked you:

“You okay? Need a break? So gone already?” counting your breaths, you leaned back to whisper that you were more than fine, moaning when Wooyoung licked a stripe up your pussy and stopped to suck on your clit, to be silenced as Seonghwa’s member pressed against your lips, and slid into the warmth. 

With every moan all but muted, you were a whimpering mess to which Seonghwa was already addicted. He was enthralled by how you responded to Wooyoung’s every touch, how you relaxed your throat to let him rock into you bit by bit. When his friend’s tongue curled into your heat, lapping at you to the point when a light tremble started in your legs, Seonghwa reached for your hand, squeezing it in reassurance and earning a loving glance from you. The contrast between the adorable shimmer in your eyes and the lewd act was more than enough to twist his world on its axis. As an orgasm ripped through you, with Wooyoung relentlessly pumping into you with his digits and flicking your aroused bud with his tongue, you moaned over Seonghwa’s member. He bit his lip, forcing himself to ease out, and let you regain some composure. He wiped the corners of your mouth with his thumb in an attempt to remove a bit of the dribble, a smile dancing on his lips.

"You are so beautiful, my sweet. Thank you. Can you still take care of him?" voice ever so soft, he inquired, every decision still being left to you. You mumbled in approval of the action, and watched as Wooyoung rose to meet you.

Barely having recovered, you were eager to pay your boyfriend back, giving one last glance to Seonghwa’s member, coated in a layer of your spit mixed with pre-cum as he crawled on his knees away from you, to position himself at your entrance. While he teased your pulsing cunt, running his digits between your folds and letting his tip flick your sensitive bud, Wooyoung was in front of you, demonstratively licking his lips to show how he devoured every bit of your nectar, his cock stiff in his hands, begging for attention which you were more than ready to provide.

“Hwa-a… ah!” you mewled, nearly collapsing on your back as Seonghwa slowly entered you, his hips pressed against yours, giving you some time to adjust to his length. The feeling of another cock, aside from your boyfriend’s, filling you up so well and building you up regardless of having just come over Wooyoung’s mouth was stupefying, and it seemed that all you could recall in that moment was your best friend’s name. 

Having had enough, Wooyoung guided your focus back to him, tapping you below your chin. A series of apologies fell from your lips, making the man chuckle as he reminded you that there was only one way to apologise in this case. Without needing any more elaboration, you ran your tongue over his leaking hole, lapping up the pre-release, and took him in, sighing at the feeling of being full of both Wooyoung and Seonghwa.

“What a good girl, devouring my cock like this- ah…” Wooyoung praised, brushing strands away, lazily observing you as you bobbed your head back and forth, interrupted only by Seonghwa hitting your g-spot, eliciting salacious moans. 

“She really is perfect… Y/N, you’re just so perfect for my dick.”

“Oh look at her falling apart, Hwa. You are fucking her so well.”

“So well she can’t even help you out?” he taunted you, knowing full well that the comment could only lead to one thing and one thing only. Wooyoung smirked, taking a fistful of your hair, causing you to look up at him with watery orbs as he warmed his cock in your mouth. The sight nearly tipped him over the edge, a twitch threatening an oncoming wave of pleasure. But he could not come, at least not before he could show his friend just how much of him you could take.

“Let’s show him just how well this throat can take me, yeah?” and upon seeing a small nod, pushed his length deeper, tensing as your tongue and teeth lightly grazed every vein and his tip hit your uvula and the back of your throat.

It was challenging to restrain himself from thrusting into you when you looked so marvellous, nose pressed against him, relaxing yourself to take him whole, despite Seonghwa repeatedly sheathing inside you, bringing you closer and closer to your own ruin. It was the fact that you were still so attentive, so caring towards him, equally as loving and being so unbelievably good that made Wooyoung fall even more in love with you. How you let him guide you over his cock, trusting his movements and his sensations completely, caring for his pleasure. How the introduction of Seonghwa, your first and ongoing love, did nothing to stop your adoration for Wooyoung. You truly were one of a kind, his galaxy, the keeper of the flame. It was not long until his climax reached him, pleasure searing through as his hand kept you frozen so that you would not choke as his cum painted your mouth.

Swallowing the last of Wooyoung’s hot orgasm, you yelped over the softening member as Seonghwa picked up his pace, demanding your full attention. The vibration caused Wooyoung to let out a low groan and tightened his grip on your hair momentarily, another string of release shooting into the back of your throat, nearly making you sputter. Cooing at your state, he tugged you back ever so carefully, hissing as your tongue gave his cock a final swipe, and murmured:

“Hwa, let me support her, yeah? She likes it when you go deep into her pussy, don’t you?” giving you a light pat, almost mockingly, Wooyoung sat on the bed behind you, holding you in place so that Seonghwa did not need to worry about you slipping, and instead focus on the relentless rhythm. You could not respond as the knot in your core grew tighter and tighter with every thrust. Every one of Seonghwa’s low moans that reached you was a lascivious melody, so erotic that all you could hope for was for him to never even consider stopping.

Positioned between the two men, you were in a soothing mindlessness, having the ability and the trust to give yourself up to them, let them love you. Every touch on your skin was an intimate, sensual flame, unwinding you, prompting you to gift them your very soul. You felt Wooyoung’s member brushing against your ass as you were jolted back by Seonghwa’s movements, the sensation proving to be impossible to handle as your climax approached at a startling speed. Gripping Wooyoung’s arms which had positioned themselves on your waist, his veins etching a design into your palms and leaving you breathless, you felt the wave crashing over you, sinking you into an unprecedented euphoria. Your body shook violently as your orgasm drowned out any sound, and you swore you could count the stars in your eyes as Seonghwa continued his motions, mercilessly in love with how your soaked, clenching pussy felt around his throbbing length.

“Ah… fuck, love, I-” 

“Hwa- please-”

Seonghwa continued pounding into you with reckless abandon, each thrust leaving you practically senseless as your orgasm had been long-surpassed, the overwhelming trembling of your every nerve, every muscle as your core was caught ablaze with the overstimulation completely wiping your ability to form a single coherent thought. Wooyoung groaned from the sight of Seonghwa’s downcast eyes, looking at nothing or looking within, ecstatic, and the wanton sounds of his cock pistoning into your wet pussy, hands moving to knead your breasts and pinch your erect nipples. You cried out from the added sensation, head falling back and over Wooyoung’s shoulder as Seonghwa slowed to a stuttered, faltering grind, his own climax imminent. 

“Y/N, my lo- I’m-” you heard him over your own whines, and in a matter of seconds he bucked into you one final time, almost falling towards you as your still-pulsating walls milked his release. He let out a shaky breath as his cum filled your sex, the warmth and fullness driving you to the brink of consciousness. Tentatively moving his hips, he fucked the load into you, groaning as he felt it leak out, completing the lewd scene.

“So… so gorgeous, Y/N…” He mumbled, kissing you once, twice as the ripples of pleasure overtook him entirely… “Woo… thank- mfph- thank you…”

“It’s us three now, hm?” Wooyoung responded, amazed at just how much Seonghwa had been holding back, and how brilliant it was to uncover the tandem that was now you and your two loves.

Trailing kisses on your neck as Wooyoung continued to hold you, his chest flush against your back as you rode out your high, dazed and in an ethereal bliss. Slow circles on your hips as Seonghwa pressed his forehead against yours, soothing your light tremble as he pulled out of you, the last rivulets of cum dripping onto your pubic bone. Unable to sustain the position any longer, legs having grown weak as the adrenaline subsided he gave into Wooyoung’s guidance as the man slinked away from you, laying you down onto the bed, and motioned for Seonghwa to do the same. In the quietude, you three remained in one another’s arms, only the steadying breathing and bare skin covered in a glistening sheen of sweat reminding you that this was all a stunning reality.

As you detangled from one another, Wooyoung and Seonghwa gave you one last, gentle peck on the cheek each before whispering amongst themselves. As you lay on the bed sheets, surrounded by the aura of lovemaking, unfocused gaze peering at the dark ceiling, you felt a clean towel going over your body, only to see Seonghwa gingerly caressing each limb, planting one kiss, another. When he noticed that you were watching him, he threw you a big dopey grin, only to mumble out words of adoration. He kept you grounded with his presence, his feathery touches, while Wooyoung rushed through re-dressing and picking out something comfortable for you to wear. Once done, the two men changed places, with the latter now tending to you and helping you get dressed, barely suppressing a smile as he let a large hoodie fall over your body. When you gave him an endearing thumbs up, hands barely peeking from the sleeves, he playfully lunged to hug you and make you fall back onto the bed, giggling airily into your ear and trying to wrap you up even tighter. Seonghwa joined you not long after, and you were caught in between two heavens, safe, adored, the intricacies of the world around you finally making sense as both Wooyoung and Seonghwa illuminated them. The stars in the sky, the flames on the earth, they completed you just as you completed them, and this was something that you would never wish to give up. They were here for you. You were here for them. This was your wish, a wish that had finally come true. For you, for Wooyoung, for Seonghwa.

“So… shall we have that cake then… at least?” you whispered into the darkness, immediately hearing rustling to either side of you, and a soft sigh from Wooyoung, breath tickling your ear as he inched a little closer, only to tease:

“But didn’t we just have dessert-”

“Wooyoung!” the yelp only seemed to amuse your two loves as they chuckled, with Seonghwa moving to push a few strands of your hair back, and reveal his glimmering orbs that managed to catch the light from the window, curtains undrawn and letting the city lights inside, giving the impression that the universe truly was in his those two windows to the soul. Your breath hitched as you gazed at him, head resting on his palm, as he wondered whether he was dreaming, the mumble slipping out automatically:

“He’s right. You’re sweet, Y/N.”

“Oh my goodness-”

You turned your head, only to feel soft fingers cupping your chin and pulling you into a slow, gentle kiss. Eyes fluttering shut, you sank into Seonghwa once again, the idea of him loving you back and wanting to be with you, accepting your other love who had his hand lazily thrown around your waist and face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, it was all so surreal that you were afraid to even take a peek.

“But we do have a kitchen to clean though...” you groaned, shaking your head at the choice of comment. Wooyoung was quicker to react, snuggling more closely and muttering:

“Now that can wait-”

“...and a wish to make.” Seonghwa elaborated, cutting Wooyoung’s complaints short, and lying down to hug you, arm lying atop the other man’s, drawing circled on your skin where the top into which you had changed had ridden up, “Let’s celebrate our birthday girl.”

Our. The word rang in your ears and wriggled its way into your mind, a new star shining in your sky, enveloping you, revering you through the creation of a paradise to which you thought there were no gates nor glimpses. The simple word - a spark of a lighter, eradicating shadows of doubt and setting the soul ablaze with newfound passion and excitement, turning your birthday into a renaissance celebrating love.

Even if you had not even made your wish yet, it was obvious. You were yourself when you were with Wooyoung and Seonghwa, and you wanted nothing more but for this bond to grow into a loving intuition. You looked up from the cake, in the middle of which was a glowing candle, and admired the two men, illuminated by the warm flickering light. How they had huddled closer to one another, with Seonghwa attempting to discreetly point out to Wooyoung that he should adjust the angle at which he held his phone to capture the precious moment. How blissful, relaxed they appeared to be as they ceased their quiet arrangement, only to return your gaze. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you read nothing but adoration in their eyes, and you clenched the material of the hoodie into which the two had insisted you change, trying to steady your breathing.

Reading your actions, your best friend, turned lover, nodded in reassurance, leaning closer towards you by resting his head on a propped up hand, while Wooyoung gave you a bright smile and threw an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders, nearly making him lose balance. The action did not seem to phase the older man in the slightest, as he simply pressed his tongue against the corner of his mouth and rolled his eyes in mock vexation, only to break out into an equally heart-melting grin. Neither rushed you, appreciating your need to take in the change, entranced by your loving peace. This new dynamic had indeed been something of a dream, and you thought that it was going to remain that way until you would be forced to forget, or live in an illusion of loving less. But now you found yourself, for the first time in some years, thinking of new wishes, musing the steps ahead.

As you blew out the fire, and motioned for the two to not turn the lights on quite yet, you were at peace. Nothing felt more right than observing Seonghwa standing up to gingerly remove the candle and slice the cake, and receiving a peck on the cheek from Wooyoung, who was now hovering over your left shoulder, fingers playing with your hair. The puzzle pieces had fallen into place, and you, like three beautiful stars, had formed a stunning constellation. In a world so fast-paced and lonely, you were surrounded by a miraculous, unconditional love - two people who not only adored you, but adored your ability to love them both equally, and in turn, love the universe. With you, they felt as though they had found their home, and were more than willing to maintain the intricate balance.

With the pair moving their chairs around the table to sit on either side of you, the action, albeit carried out serenely, quietly, expressed a boyish excitement for the development, and the way in which they seeked even more closeness with you, be it by purposefully leaning to reach for a meaningless item across the table, or by resting an arm on the back of the chair, only confirmed their shared adoration. Under the full moon that greeted you from the outside with a silvery blue sheen, you found a comfortable stillness, and as the two men raised their heads to follow your gaze to the view outside, hoped that your new wish, one for three, for years to come, would come true too.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

summertime sadness

pairing: steve harrington x fem byers!reader

summary: a quiet night only a few weeks in the aftermath of starcourt mall.

A/N: y'all i'll be honest, these in-betweens are gonna be short and below average. was thinking about not posting them, but you know it's the small moments that count the most.

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August 14, 1985

The room is quiet. The whole house is quiet, the only sounds being the refrigerator humming as it made ice and the crickets chirping outside with Steve’s windows pushed open. The late summer moving into fall breeze toyed with his heavy curtains, the bright light from the pool spilling into the small space.

Both of you lay on his bed. You are on your back with a pillow under your head, your left leg bent with your knee in the air. Steve laid on your front, his head tucked under your chin. His puffs of breath ticking the exposed skin of your collarbone as you mindlessly carded a hand through his hair. His arms were wrapped tight along your stomach, his palms pressed into your spine, his fingers spread out.

Your eyes stared blankly into his plaid wallpaper, probably something his mother picked out when he was just a kid that she loved dearly. Now it felt outdated and you wished to peel it from the structure.

You rolled your head on the pillow to the right to peek at Steve’s alarm clock, the giant digital numbers of 3:33 stared mockingly at you. Dry eyes stinging with each slow blink you did, not being able to keep them closed for more than five minutes before they snap open. You didn’t want to bring your nightmares into Steve’s room as he finally got his bits of sleep.

It’s been a rough two months for everyone. El moved into the house and she would either sleep in Joyce’s room or yours when Steve wasn’t around. But it felt like he moved in as well, and you knew why. He was always alone in the giant two-story house and he didn’t want to be alone after everything. And you didn’t want to be separated from him.

You heard the deep inhale from Steve and felt his arms tighten. Eyes moved away from the empty walls and down to see him leaning back so his eyes were able to meet yours.

“Hi.” A gentle whisper in the silent room. Your hand continues to card through his soft tendrils.

He kissed your collarbone followed by, “Hi.” His eyes squinted just a bit while observing your face. “Can’t sleep?” Knowing he noticed the darkness making a home under your eyes.

A simple quirk to the right corner of your mouth, “Nothing new. What ‘bout you? You were doin’ okay.” Noting he slept for about four hours.

Steve tickled his nose against your skin as he readjusted his head, tucking himself into your neck. “I’m better when I’m in your arms. Keep the darkness at bay.” His voice was rough from nonuse.

Nails scratched at his scalp, “Same with you.” A simple white lie. He usually did help at keeping the nightmares and horrid memories at bay, but this time…

This time they couldn’t leave you alone for just an hour of sleep.

Steve deeply inhaled, “You’re lying, but also not. I understand though.” He held you tighter, “We’ll work through this, together.”

You didn’t bother saying anything back in response, only leaning forward to place a heart-heavy kiss on the crown of his head. You heard Steve as his breathing evened out and his limbs grew heavier. Your eyes just moved back to staring at his plaid wallpaper with your hands mindlessly touching him, wanting to keep him sleeping through the night.

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