#but for the actual finale? something that would fit right into the first half of season 1. derogatory

[onlyhereforthestories]

Worth It? Or Not? (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Hi guys! It's been too long. Please enjoy this long ramble that slightly resembles writing 😂. I have a few more things written and I am trying to finish Chica for you all. Happy weekend.

It was a new season, and you were so ready for what it was going to throw at you. The last season you participated in had been your best yet you think, although that was most likely due to the fact that it was your first with your girlfriend. You and Alexia had been dancing around your feeling for each other for a few years and in the off-season last year the older woman had finally asked you out. By the time the season just gone had started you were already official, and it had made last year that much more special. You got to share your achievements with the one you loved and that really was wonderful.

Now for a new season and possibly a new step for your relationship with Alexia, she had been hinting at moving in together for the last few weeks. Little off hand comments like “That would look nice in a master bedroom.” And “I wonder if we would have a feature wall if we had our own living space.” You thought it was about time you started hinting back. You needed to be sure it was something she actually wanted before you out right asked her if she was ready to move in together.

You were currently waiting for Aitana to pick you up, Alexia had to be in earlier than everyone else this morning for a meeting and so you had slept separately, at your own apartments last night. This was the first time in weeks that you could remember not sharing a bed with the older woman. She said she didn’t want to wake you as early as she needed to be up and after trying to argue with her for 10 minutes you had given up, she just wasn’t getting that you would happily wake up early if it meant spending the extra time with her.

“So why do I have to come get your whipped ass? Where’s the wifey?” You rolled your eyes at the woman as you climbed into the passenger seat of her car. Aitana had been one of the first people you had talked to about your crush on Alexia and now the slightly younger woman took every opportunity she could to tease you about your obvious love for the team captain.

“I’m telling her you called her that, but in answer to your poorly asked question, she had an early meeting and didn’t want to wake me up at the early time she had to be up.” You shrugged your shoulders in a gesture you knew was for your benefit not hers, you had been up half the night letting your anxiety get the best of you.

“It’s Alexia, you know her, she is probably just nervous for the new season and how the new signings will fit in.” You knew that Aitana was most likely right but you also couldn’t shake the creeping feeling that she was already getting bored of being with you. You knew you shouldn’t let these thoughts get the better of you but that was easier to say than actually do, it wasn’t that you doubted Alexia at all, it was more your growing anxiety over your own worth in your head. In fact you knew it was you and your head and that just made it even more frustrating, it was another thing that made you question yourself.

“Yeah, you are probably right, she has been feeling the captain pressure a lot over the last week or so. She has been watching tapes of the new girls and talking a lot with the staff after weights. Sometimes I wish she would just switch off from work and be a little more present with me, but she’s Alexia queen of Barca. She puts 110% into this club and that’s what I signed up for happily.”

After that the conversation switched to a lighter topic and by the time you pulled up at the training ground you were feeling a lot lighter and laughing with one of your best friends. Any thoughts of Alexia not wanting you any more were long gone and all you wanted to do now was get your cleats on. Football would always be a great escape for you, it was like your mind could relax whilst you had a ball at your feet.

After getting ready in the changing room, without the appearance of your love, you headed out with the rest of the girls to find Alexia in the middle of the field with another woman you didn’t recognise. Your attention was pulled from them when Pere spoke, “Okay ladies, we have a new signing starting with us today. Alexia has been getting to know her a little bit so it’s easier for her to settle in. Please be welcoming.” You all nodded your heads in agreement and followed him over to the two women.

“Hi it’s nice to meet you all, I’m Chloe.” You could tell the woman was nervous and so could Alexia as she moved everyone onto warm-ups rather quickly. Over the course of the session everyone introduced themselves to the new girl individually so that she felt as comfortable as possible.

You had just got out of the shower and was putting the last items in your bag when Alexia approached you for the first time today. “Hola, can I ask you for a favour por favor?” You could tell she was sort of in a hurry by the lack of affection she gave you. You would normally at least get a peck to the cheek, but she barely even got close enough to you for you to hear her properly.

“Si of course.” You would do anything for the woman in front of you and everyone knew it.

“I’m taking Chloe out to see the city so she knows her way around a bit better, but I didn’t get to walk Nala this morning. Can you run round mine and do it for me? I asked Alba but she is working.” There was a lot to pick out of that passage of one-sided conversation. First you were hurt that she had gone to Alba first when Nala was like your own dog too. Second, she must have forgotten your lunch plans with Claudia and Patri that had been made a while back and you knew was on her calendar as you put it there. Something you decided not to bring up, she was just trying to help the new girl settle in you understood that.

“Yes of course. Do you want me to make dinner tonight?” You thought at least you could have some time with her that evening being as you’ve barely interacted all day.

“I won’t be back for dinner, I told Chloe I would help her sort her apartment out after showing her the sights. I don’t know what time I’ll be back y/n so maybe we should sleep in our own apartments again tonight.” You really didn’t know what to say to this, so you just nodded. You got a lot of the women’s time, so you didn’t think it was fair for you to be upset over a couple days, especially not when she was just trying to help someone out.

“Okay, I’ll see you at training tomorrow then.” You turned round and walked out of training with a slight weight on your chest and your mind running with thoughts you wish you didn’t have.

After you walked Nala and dropped her back into Alexia’s apartment, an apartment that started to feel like your own until the last 24 hours. Part of you knew this was silly to think but you couldn’t help it, you are always an overthinker and this was something that you struggled with. You didn’t even take the time to make sure Nala was settled you just open the door let her in, checked her water bowl was full and left again. Being there just felt wrong today. Deciding that your mood was really not good enough to go out and have a lunch with your two friends you texted Patri to cancel, and after assuring her you were okay just a little extra tired today, she wished you a good evening and said she would pick you up for training if you needed the next morning.

An offer you ended up taking when your texts to Alexia the next morning went unanswered. You were tired and starting to get a little annoyed with the older woman, you were trying to reason as to why she wasn’t replying to your texts and even when she did it was so spaced out it felt like she didn’t care or want to talk to you. You were trying to change that thought process, but it was hard when that’s where your mind had gone.

“Hola, you don’t look so good. Should you be coming to training.” Patri’s concerned voice almost sent you into a wave of sobs, but you held it together, your thoughts were stupid so you know you couldn’t show you were sad. You didn’t want Patri to think you were an idiot for the way you were feeling about your current situation, if it was even a situation.

“I’m just tired Pats, I’ve not slept well the last few nights and I think its just caught up to me a bit today.” You sighed in relief when she didn’t push you any further just gave you a once over and then pulled away from the outside of your apartment complex.

You were hoping the journey to training would help your mood and thoughts, but it didn’t much. Patri tried her best to cheer you up and you really appreciated the younger woman’s efforts, but you were struggling. You made your way into the changing room behind your best friend and didn’t both to look up as you made your way to your cubby. You placed your stuff down and changed into your boots, leaving the changing room straight after as the first out.

You decided some air and keepy ups might help sort your head out before training. Pere and the staff were out setting up when you went to ask for a ball, they gladly gave you one and you headed to the far end of the field to have your space. The sun beating down on you felt good and a ball at your feet always helped.

Your peace was short lived as you heard the chatter of the rest of the girls and Pere calling you all in. You grabbed your ball and headed over, looking at the group for the first time. What you saw hurt your heart more than you would say to anyone, Alexia was stood near Pere like normal. That obviously wasn’t the upsetting part, the upsetting part was that Chloe was pretty much pressed against Ale. You tried not to look too long or think too much but you struggled. You really struggled.

Training started and your thoughts just kept going. You couldn’t concentrate, you couldn’t pass right, your touches were off and none of the shots you took even went close to the goal. By the end of the first half of training everyone could tell something wasn’t okay with you, so much so that Pere called you over in the drinks break.

“What’s up today? This is very unlike you. If your sick you should have just let us know I don’t want to see you get injured if you are pushing yourself too much and then end up being out for longer than you need to be. Health is important y/n.” The way he said it wasn’t scolding which you were thankful for, you were slightly worried that he would be annoyed with you for your performance.

“I’m sorry coach. I’m not feeling my best today, I thought I’d be okay to train but I think maybe I was wrong.” You wouldn’t normally miss training unless really necessary, but you were too far gone mentally and staying here wasn’t what you needed right now.

“That’s okay some days we just need the break and to rest. Go home and we will see you hopefully tomorrow. Please pop and see the medical staff on the way out to check in with them.” With that he patted your shoulder and went back to call the team back to training.

As you walked past the group Patri caught your eye and gave you the are you okay look. You waved her off with a half-smile and continued to the changing rooms. You decided that a shower at home would be the best for you and so just changed your shoes, grabbed your stuff and headed to the medical room.

They just did some basic checks on your temperature and blood pressure before sending you off with the promise to come in first thing tomorrow if you were planning on training just to have another check before you did.

You half expected Alexia to be waiting for you outside the medical room when you walked out but she wasn’t. You walked out of the grounds to remember that you got a lift, you were just about to walk home when your name was called. For a second your body warmed thinking it was who you really wanted it to be before your shoulders slump slightly. You knew that was Patri.

“I’ll drive you home come on.” You didn’t argue you just hopped in the passenger seat. You were quiet the whole way back to your place, the only words you said to the younger woman was thank you when you got out the car.

You took your shower turning the water to as hot as you could handle. Going for comfort after that you changed into your (Alexias) comfiest hoodie and a pair of tracksuits that you really weren’t sure whose they were. You settled yourself onto your sofa and turned on a random old show you didn’t need to concentrate on.

You have no idea when you fell asleep, but you must have at some point because you were blinking yourself awake in the now pitch blackness of your living space. The only light you had was coming from your phone on the table that you now realised was ringing and must have been the reason you were currently waking up.

You reached over to grab it off the table to see who it was, glancing at the screen you were faced with your favourite photo you had ever taken. Ale had this smile that reached her eyes as she stared at you through the camera, it was taken last month when you were on vacation before the season was due to start.

You were stuck in a sort of daze so you didn’t answer the call, after it rang off you were faced with 5 miss calls from the woman. You noticed the time, you had missed lunch and dinner. You almost missed bedtime if you were being truthful to yourself, so you got up off the sofa and turned the tv off. You grabbed your phone again and headed to your bathroom to clean your teeth and get into your pjs. Once in bed you called Alexia back, who picked up after a couple rings.

“Y/n where did you go? Why did you miss training?” Her words were rushed as soon as she answered, which you felt a little bad about as she had been trying to get hold of you for a while now.

You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts before answering Alexia’s question. You could hear the concern in her voice, which only made your heart ache more. It wasn’t anger or frustration—it was genuine worry. And yet, the events of the past couple of days had left you feeling vulnerable and disconnected.

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you started quietly, not wanting your voice to crack. “Pere told me to go home, and I guess I just needed some time to rest. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls before I fell asleep on the sofa.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You could hear Alexia shifting slightly, probably trying to figure out the right words. She was good at taking a moment to make sure she said the correct thing, that she said everything she wanted and in a way that would be understood for what it was.

“I would’ve come with you if I knew,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Or at least text me when you got home?”

“I did try to talk to you,” you replied, a bit sharper than you intended. You quickly softened your tone before continuing. “I was going to tell you before I left the training grounds but when I went to go over, I saw you were in a conversation with Chloe and I didn’t want to interrupt. I know what making her feel welcome into the team means to you so I just left, Patri dropped me home.”

Alexia was silent again, and you hated that your mind immediately went back to the image of Chloe standing so close to her earlier. You knew it was unreasonable to feel threatened, but the distance you’d been feeling from Alexia over the last couple of days was making everything worse. You knew Alexia and you knew that if she was even thinking about someone else in the way she thought about you, she would end things. It was a conversation the both of you had had very early in the relationship, it was better to say and end things than cause more heartache with something like cheating.

“You’re right,” she finally said. “I’ve been caught up with the new signings, especially Chloe. I wanted to help her settle in, but I didn’t realize I was neglecting you in the process.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as you listened to her. The fact that she acknowledged it made you feel a bit better, but it didn’t completely erase the weight that had been sitting on your chest. It still has happened.

“I get it, Ale. You’re the captain, and you’ve got responsibilities, but…” You trailed off, not sure how to express what you were feeling without coming across as needy or insecure.

“But what?” she asked gently, encouraging you to keep going.

“I just… I don’t know. It feels like we haven’t really been us these past few days. Like we’re slipping apart, and I don’t want that.”

Alexia sighed softly, and you could almost picture her rubbing the back of her neck the way she always did when she was thinking hard about something.

“I don’t want that either,” she said after a moment. “I’m sorry, really. I’ve been so focused on the new season and everything happening with the team that I haven’t been present with you. That’s not fair.”

Tears stung your eyes at her words. You hated that you had been feeling so anxious and unsure about where you stood with her. The logical part of your brain knew that Alexia loved you deeply, but sometimes, your emotions got the better of you.

“I just miss you,” you whispered, finally letting a bit of the hurt spill out.

“I miss you too,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “I promise, when I get back, we’ll spend some real time together. Just the two of us.”

You wanted to believe her, to hold onto the comfort her words should have brought you, but as you lay there, phone pressed to your ear, something still felt off. The doubts that had been swirling in your mind all day didn’t vanish—they just simmered beneath the surface, waiting for another moment to creep back in. You tried to smile, to let her words sink in, but it felt hollow.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice weaker than you intended. There was a pause on the line, and for a second, you wondered if she could hear the uncertainty that was sitting heavy on your chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Get some rest. I love you,” Alexia said, her tone soft but distant, and somehow it made you feel even worse.

“I love you too, Ale,” you replied automatically, though the words felt like they got caught in your throat. You wanted to believe them, wanted to believe her. But as you hung up the phone, the heavy silence in your room returned, and with it, the creeping feeling that maybe things weren’t as solid as you hoped.

You curled up under the covers, pulling them tighter around you, but instead of the calm you craved, a lingering unease settled deep in your chest. The conversation hadn’t been enough to ease your mind, and the distance between you two felt more real than ever. Alexia cared, you knew that, but it didn’t stop the doubts from pulling you under.

As much as you tried to push it aside, the little voice in your head that had been whispering insecurities all day grew louder. What if she’s getting tired of me? What if this distance between us is because she doesn’t want to be with me anymore? The more you thought about it, the more it felt like Alexia was slipping away, even though she’d just promised to spend more time with you. The doubts began to swirl again, faster now, and the pit in your stomach deepened.

Sure, Alexia had apologized, but what if it wasn’t just about her being busy with the new signings? What if she was using that as an excuse? You started picking apart every little detail from the past few days—how she barely interacted with you this morning, how she chose to spend time with Chloe instead of you, how easily she’d forgotten your plans for lunch with Patri and Claudia. Maybe she wasn’t as invested in the relationship anymore. Maybe she was realizing that being with you wasn’t what she wanted.

You buried your face in your pillow, fighting the creeping sense of rejection. No, this is just the anxiety talking. She loves you. She said she loves you, you reminded yourself, but it felt like a hollow reassurance. Even as you repeated it, the lingering doubt wouldn’t leave you. You wanted so badly to believe her words, to take them at face value, but the overthinking was louder than reason right now.

The phone in your hand vibrated again, pulling you out of your spiral for a moment. Alexia had sent you a text: I really don’t like how we left things. Can I come over? I’ll bring dinner. We can talk.

Your heart skipped at the message. On one hand, you wanted her here. You wanted her arms around you, her presence to quiet the storm in your mind. But on the other hand, you felt like having her here would only make your insecurities worse. What if she could see right through you? What if she could tell that you weren’t okay, that you doubted her? What if she was already tired of dealing with your anxieties, your overthinking?

Before you could stop yourself, you typed back: I think it’s better if I stay alone tonight. I might be getting sick, and I don’t want to give you anything. You’ve got enough on your plate with the new season and all.

You stared at the message, second-guessing every word. It wasn’t entirely a lie—you did feel off, emotionally and physically, but that wasn’t the real reason you didn’t want her to come over. You were scared. Scared that spending time with her would only confirm the worst of your fears. That she was growing tired of you, tired of your relationship.

After a few moments, your phone buzzed again with Alexia’s response: Are you sure? I can bring soup or tea, whatever you need. I don’t mind at all.

Her willingness to drop everything and come over only made you feel worse. How could you doubt someone who was so thoughtful, so caring? But the voice in your head persisted—what if she was just doing this out of obligation? What if she felt guilty? It wasn’t long before you convinced yourself that Alexia was only offering out of a sense of duty, not because she actually wanted to be with you tonight.

Yeah, I’m sure. You replied, forcing yourself to hit send before you could change your mind. I’ll be fine. Just need some rest.

You stared at your phone, waiting for her response, hoping she would fight harder to come over, hoping she would insist. But her next message came quickly, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Okay, rest up. Let me know if you need anything, cariño. I’ll see you tomorrow at training.

Simple. Kind. But it wasn’t the push you had been hoping for. She wasn’t coming over. Maybe she was relieved, you thought bitterly. Maybe she didn’t actually want to spend time with you after all. You hated that your mind kept going there, but the doubts kept clawing at you, relentless and cruel.

Curling up tighter in your bed, you told yourself that some space was good. Maybe tomorrow would be better, maybe by then, you’d feel less overwhelmed, and Alexia would feel closer again. But as you lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, the weight of your insecurities was heavier than ever. You didn’t want to lose her, but right now, it felt like that’s exactly what was happening, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you need anything. I love you. Get some good sleep, okay?

You read the message over and over, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Relief, because Alexia wasn’t pushing you to talk when you didn’t feel ready. Disappointment, because a part of you had hoped she would sense your need for more; more reassurance, more connection, more confirmation that everything between you two was still okay. But she didn’t press further, and that left you with an emptiness that was hard to shake. Part of you knew that was silly, she had texted after your call and that should have helped but it just left you with a half full feeling. Like you were only worth that small extra effort.

As you lay there, your mind kept spiralling. You wanted to believe that this was just a rough patch, a phase, something that would pass after the season got into full swing. But the fear that something had shifted between you and Alexia lingered. You tried to push it away, to focus on the fact that she had said she loved you, that she was willing to drop everything for you. But the overthinking kept creeping back, whispering that maybe this was the beginning of the end.

You closed your eyes, pulling the blankets tighter around you, willing yourself to sleep. But even as exhaustion tugged at your body, your mind wouldn’t let go of the nagging doubts. You kept replaying the last few days in your head, every moment where Alexia had seemed distant, every conversation that had felt stilted or rushed. You hated how insecure it made you feel, but you couldn’t help it.

Alexia sits on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone, fingers hovering over the screen. She wants to call you, wants to check in, but hesitates. There’s a lump in her throat, a weight in her chest that won’t shift. You’d asked her for space, asked her not to hover, and she’s been trying, really trying, to respect that. But it’s hard. It’s so damn hard. It feels wrong to stay away, especially when she knows you’re not feeling well.

She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated with herself. She’s been distant lately and she understands that she’s not been around as much as she should have. Training, media obligations, new signings, everything’s been pulling her in different directions, and now, when you need her the most, she’s afraid she’s failing you. Alexia’s not used to feeling this way, like she’s not enough. But here she is, second-guessing everything and wondering why she let it get to this point.

What if you don’t even want her around anymore?

The thought hits her harder than she expects, and she feels a pang of guilt. You deserve someone better, someone who can be there, be present, and she’s been anything but lately. And now, with you sick, the fear creeps in even more. She worries that her attempts to give you space that you asked for might just be making things worse, that you might feel abandoned, even if that’s the last thing she ever wanted.

She presses her palms against her knees, trying to calm the whirlwind in her mind. The idea that she might not be enough, that she might not be the perfect girlfriend you deserve, gnaws at her. She’s scared she’s messing this up, that every move she makes might be the wrong one.

What if she’s not what you need right now? What if she’s been too caught up in her own world, too wrapped up in everything else to see what’s really going on with you?

Her phone buzzes, and for a moment, she thinks about texting you. But what would she even say? She feels torn, pulled between wanting to rush to your side and the fear that doing so would push you away.

She exhales sharply, setting the phone down, her hands now trembling slightly. She loves you, that much is very clear to her. But loving you and being there for you the way you deserve; it feels like two different things right now. She’s scared of being inadequate, of not living up to what you need.

In her heart, she wants to be the perfect girlfriend for you, the one who knows how to navigate all this with ease. Wants to know what you need without you having to say, wants to show you that there isn’t anyone better for you than her. But she’s scared, scared that she’s already failed.

That night, Alexia drives to your place. The streets are quiet, dimly lit by the occasional streetlamp, and the familiar route feels strange tonight, like she’s seeing it through a different lens. Her heart races the closer she gets, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual.

When she finally pulls up outside, she kills the engine but doesn’t move. The silence in the car feels thick, almost oppressive, like it's pressing down on her chest. She knows she should get out, knock on your door, and just be there for you. It’s why she came, after all. But something keeps her glued to the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on the dashboard, mind spinning with uncertainty.

What if you don’t want her here?

She takes a deep breath and glances up at your window. The lights are off, maybe you’re already asleep, maybe you’ve had a long day. Her mind starts to drift even further. Maybe she’s too late. But even if you're still awake, there’s that nagging voice in her head that tells her she’s crossing a line, that you’d rather be alone. That she should have done this a few days ago not now, not when you asked her to stay away.

I shouldn’t have come.

She exhales, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. Every part of her wants to be close to you, to show up the way she should have sooner. She even reaches for the door handle, her heart pounding as she tells herself, Just get out, Ale. Just go inside and talk to her. Be there for her.

But her grip on the handle loosens, and she pulls her hand back.

What if showing up makes things worse? What if you’re still upset, still needing space, and all she does by being here is prove that she can’t respect that?

She closes her eyes for a moment, willing the doubts away, but they only get louder. She’s scared, scared that you’ll see right through her. Scared that, no matter how hard she tries, she’s already failed you.

With a frustrated sigh, she pushes the door open and steps out of the car. The night air hits her, cool and crisp, and she stands there, staring at your front door. Her feet move her a few steps closer, but then she stops, frozen halfway across the street. To any passerby she would look slightly crazy, standing in the middle of the street, car door open behind her and staring at a closed door. But alexia didn’t care, she couldn’t think about anything else other than you.

She could knock, could tell you everything that’s been going through her head, but what if it’s too much? What if it’s too soon?

Alexia takes a deep breath and steps back, retreating to the safety of her car. She sits there, hands resting on the wheel again, feeling like a coward. But the thought of doing the wrong thing, of making things harder for you, keeps her from getting back out the car.

Tomorrow, she thinks. Tomorrow I’ll speak to her.

It’s a promise she makes to herself, hoping that maybe, with a little more time, she’ll find the right words.

The next morning, you woke up feeling no better than the night before. If anything, the pit in your stomach had only grown. You glanced at your phone, half-expecting to see a message from Alexia, but there was nothing. No good morning text, no follow-up to check on you. That left a really bitter feeling inside of you, one that you hated feeling for two reasons. One, you knew in your heart she wasn’t trying to make you feel that way, and two because you felt that way.

As you dragged yourself out of bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You tried to convince yourself that Alexia was just busy, that she was giving you space like you asked. But deep down, the doubt gnawed at you. What if the space you asked for was pushing her further away?

You knew you needed to talk to her, to clear the air, but the thought of confronting your feelings made you anxious. What if she confirmed your worst fears? What if she said she wasn’t sure about the relationship anymore? You weren’t sure you could handle that.

Still, as you got ready for training, you decided to talk to her today. No more avoiding the conversation. You needed to know what was happening, you needed to clear things up. Not only for your relationship but for your own mind. There was a small voice at the back of your head telling you that speaking to Alexia about why this has happened might be a good idea, but you ignored that for the moment. That would mean showing those deep insecurities. And you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

With the decision made, you grabbed your things and headed out the door, hoping that today would bring some clarity and maybe, just maybe, the reassurance you desperately needed.

Stepping out of the building, you're caught off guard. Alexia is there, leaning against her car, arms folded, sunglasses perched on her nose. She straightens up the moment she spots you, waving casually as if this is the most normal thing in the world. Which a week ago it would have been.

"Hey," she says lightly, her tone casual, maybe a little too casual. Stop reading so much into it y/n.

"Hey," you respond, trying to hide your confusion. "Didn’t expect to see you here."

She shrugs, unlocking the car with a beep. "Thought I’d give you a lift to training. I know Patri picked you up and dropped you home yesterday. I also wanted to check on you properly. How’re you feeling?"

There’s a pause, you are unsure if she’s asking about how you're feeling physically or mentally. "I’m... fine. Maybe a bit tired." Short and sweet, that will do for now.

"Yeah, it’s been a long week," she comments, sliding into the driver’s seat. You follow, buckling in, and the car hums to life as she pulls out onto the road. For a moment, the silence sits between you two, neither of you quite sure how to fill it.

"Traffic’s light today," she notes, glancing briefly at you. "Should get there in no time."

You nod, grateful for the small talk. "Yeah, that’s good."

Another beat of quiet passes.

"Did you see the new kit design?" she asks, her tone light, as if she’s trying to keep the conversation safe.

"Yeah, I did. Looks pretty sharp, though I’m not sure about the neon stripes," you reply, relaxing into the seat a little.

She chuckles softly. "Not a fan?"

You crack a small smile. "Not really my thing. Maybe it’ll grow on me."

The conversation fades again, but this time it feels easier, more comfortable. She’s not pushing, not prying into anything deeper. It feels like both of you are skirting around something bigger, but for now, the surface level is just fine.

Before long, you arrive at the training centre. Alexia leads you inside, where the trainers are waiting. The check-up is routine, some stretches, a few prods here and there and soon, they clear you to train.

"You’re good to go," the head trainer tells you with a nod.

As you step out onto the pitch, Alexia lingers nearby, not hovering, but subtly making sure you’re all right. During the water breaks, she’s quick to hand you a bottle, reminding you to stay hydrated. It's nothing overt, just small gestures that don’t go unnoticed by you.

Training passes, and as you finish up, wiping the sweat from your face and stretching out your tired muscles, you see her approaching again. This time, there’s something different in her expression.

"You did well today," she says with a small, approving smile.

"Thanks," you reply, sensing the shift in the air, the conversation about to take a more serious turn.

She hesitates for a second, then takes a deep breath. "Look... do you want to come back to mine? We need to talk. I think we’re overdue for it."

Her words hang between you both, but the way she says it feels less like a confrontation and more like an invitation. There’s no pressure, no demand, just a simple request.

You meet her gaze, unsure of what this conversation will bring, but knowing it’s inevitable. Whatever is currently going on with you two needs to be addressed and soon. Neither of you enjoying your current situation and definitely not wanting it to continue on this way.

"Yeah," you say, surprising yourself with how quickly the word comes out. "Let’s go."

You hesitate to take the hand Alexia reaches out in front of you, but when she gives you that small smile and slight tilt of her head you can’t help but grab on. You are once again conflicted when she lets go once you are on your feet, but when she awkwardly scratches at her neck as she gestures for you to start walking you can’t help the affection for her that rises in your chest.

The drive to Alexia’s is quiet, not awkward, but there’s a tension that hangs in the air. The radio plays softly in the background, a low hum of noise filling the silence as neither of you speaks much. You glance at her now and then, noticing how her hands grip the wheel just a little too tight, how her jaw seems tense. She’s trying to seem calm, but you know her well enough to see the nerves beneath the surface.

When you arrive at her apartment, Alexia unlocks the door and once again gestures for you to go inside first. You step in, and the familiarity of her space washes over you, a space that’s been shared so many times, but tonight feels different. She lingers by the door for a moment, taking a breath before following you in.

You both sit down on the couch, a little distance between you. Alexia fidgets with her fingers, playing with her rings, clearly trying to gather her thoughts. Finally, she speaks, her voice softer than usual, almost unsure.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” she says, her eyes not quite meeting yours. “I wanted to, but... I didn’t know if you’d want me there.”

You sit quietly, listening, waiting for her to continue. You know it is only fair to let her finish without interrupting, your time to speak will come.

“I know I haven’t been... the best lately. I’ve been distant, and I can’t even explain why in a way that makes sense,” she admits, her voice wavering slightly. “And then when you got sick... I wanted to be there for you. I should have been there, but you asked for space, and I didn’t want to make things worse.” You could hear the sadness and longing in her voice as she spoke, it made your heart hurt a little more thinking about how this has negatively affected her as well as you.

She looks down, her fingers twisting together nervously. “But I just kept second-guessing everything. Like, if I showed up, I’d be doing the wrong thing. And maybe... maybe you don’t even want me around anymore.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy with uncertainty and vulnerability. She’s never said anything like this before, never doubted herself like this when it came to your relationship. When it came to you.

You feel the weight of her worry, and it’s clear that she’s been wrestling with this more than you realized. Had you not been the best girlfriend either? Had she been worrying about this for more than just the last few days? There’s a long pause before she speaks again.

“I’m scared I’m not the girlfriend you deserve,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m failing you... like I haven’t been there when you needed me most.”

Her eyes finally meet yours, and they’re filled with doubt, something you’re not used to seeing in her. Alexia, who’s always so composed, so sure of herself, now looks like she’s bracing for something, maybe rejection, maybe confirmation that her fears are true.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. You know this talk has been coming, but hearing her say it, seeing her so vulnerable, hits you differently. There's a part of you that wants to just reach out and hold her, to tell her it’s all okay, but you know this conversation needs to happen. You know that the both of you need to communicate these feelings and work on how you can do it without it getting to this stage again, if there is going to be again.

“Alexia...” you start, choosing your words carefully, “I never said I didn’t want you around. I asked for space because I needed it, not because I wanted you out of my life.”

She nods slowly, but her expression remains uncertain. You continue, “I’ve been going through a lot, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you here. It’s just... sometimes I need to figure things out on my own. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Alexia exhales, her shoulders sagging a little in relief, but the tension is still there. “I just... I feel like I haven’t been enough lately. I’ve been so focused on everything else that I haven’t made time for us, for you, and then when you needed me most, I just... froze.”

You shift closer to her, your hand gently resting on hers. “I know you’re busy. I never expected you to be around all the time, Ale. I don’t need you to be. I just need you to be... present. To be you.”

Her eyes soften at your words, and she looks down at your hand that is soft on top of hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice steadier now. “I’ll do better. I want to be better, for you. For us.”

You nod, understanding the weight of what she’s saying. It’s not about perfection, not about always getting it right. It’s about showing up, about trying, even when it’s hard, even when doubts creep in.

“I just need us to be open with each other,” you say. “If you’re feeling off or distant, tell me. If you’re unsure about something, we’ll figure it out together. But don’t shut me out, and don’t shut yourself down thinking you’re not enough. And I’ll do better too. I have had so many insecure thoughts over the last few days and I’m sorry for those. I’m sorry that you get affected by them and I’m sorry I didn’t communicate with you about them. That wasn’t fair of me.”

You take a second to think about what you want to say next.  Alexia’s eyes stay locked on yours, her expression softening even more as she listens. Her hand tightens just slightly around yours, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of what you’re both sharing. The tension between you eases further, but the conversation isn’t over yet.

You take a breath, choosing your next words carefully, wanting to make sure she understands where you're coming from.

“I’ve been in my head a lot,” you admit, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I thought that maybe you weren’t showing up because I wasn’t... worth it. That you were pulling away because I’ve been too much to handle. And instead of talking to you about how I was feeling, I just let it build up. I guess I was scared that saying it out loud would make it real.”

Alexia’s brow furrows as she shakes her head gently. “You’re never too much,” she says quietly, her thumb still brushing softly over your hand. “I never want you to feel that way. I hate that you’ve been carrying that, and I didn’t know. That I couldn’t help.”

You nod, grateful for her words but also aware of how important it is to keep the lines of communication open moving forward. “I know you care, I do. I just... I need to trust that more. And I need to talk to you when I’m struggling, not shut you out. I’m sorry for that.”

Alexia leans in closer, her voice filled with sincerity. “We’ll both do better. We’ll figure this out together. You’re not alone in this. I want to be there for you, and I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I wasn’t.”

You feel a wave of relief wash over you, and for the first time in days, it feels like the distance that had crept between you is finally closing. There’s a warmth in the room now, a sense of mutual understanding and a willingness to do better, together.

“I don’t need us to be perfect,” you say softly. “I just need to know that we’re in this together. That we can lean on each other, even when things aren’t easy.”

Alexia nods, her eyes shining with emotion. “We are. I promise. I love you, and I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you lean forward, pressing your forehead against hers. The silence that falls between you now isn’t heavy or filled with uncertainty. It’s peaceful, comforting.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

For now, the words are enough. There’s more to work through, more conversations to be had, but you know that you’re both committed to making this work. And for the first time in a while, you both feel like you're on solid ground again.

Alexia pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around you, and you sink into the embrace. The weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a quiet sense of hope for what comes next.

After the heaviness of the conversation finally lifts, you and Alexia share a soft smile, the tension replaced by a quiet, comforting peace. The air between you feels lighter, and as if sensing the shift, Alexia’s lips curve into a small grin.

“How about we get some takeout?” she suggests, her voice playful yet warm. “I don’t feel like cooking, and I think we both deserve a break tonight.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement. “That sounds perfect. I could definitely go for some comfort food.”

It doesn’t take long before you’ve both decided on your usual, something easy and satisfying. The soft glow of the kitchen light reflects off Alexia’s face as she places the order, her expression more relaxed than it’s been in days. You can’t help but feel a sense of relief, like things are finally settling back into place.

Not long after, the smell of freshly delivered food fills the room, and you both settle on the sofa, plates balanced on your laps, the comfort of being together in the small, familiar space wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

“Movie?” Alexia asks, already flicking through the streaming options.

“Nothing too heavy,” you say with a smile. “Something we can just zone out to.”

She nods in agreement, finally settling on a classic comedy that always makes you both laugh. As the opening credits roll, you finish your food and tuck yourself into her side, her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

As the movie plays, the light from the screen flickers softly against the walls, casting a warm glow over the room. You’re snuggled close into Alexia’s side, her arm still draped around your shoulders, fingers lazily tracing small patterns on your arm. The comfort of it all makes you feel more at ease than you’ve felt in days.

At some point, the film becomes background noise. You’re more focused on the way Alexia’s thumb brushes your skin or the occasional glance you catch of her watching you instead of the movie. You shift slightly, turning your face up toward her, and her gaze softens as your eyes meet.

Alexia smiles, a tender warmth in her expression, and you can’t help but lean in. The first kiss is soft, almost shy, like you’re both still figuring out the rhythm after the tension of the last few days. Her lips linger against yours for a moment longer than usual, and when you pull back, you see the quiet joy in her eyes, a silent thank you for being open and honest with her, for being here.

Without a word, you lean in again, your lips meeting hers in a series of soft, gentle kisses. They’re unhurried, sweet, filled with a quiet kind of affection that says more than words could in this moment. Alexia’s hand comes up to cradle your cheek, her thumb grazing your jawline as she deepens the kiss slightly, but it’s still slow, still soft.

When you finally pull away, her forehead rests against yours, her breath mingling with yours as you both smile, the movie all but forgotten now.

“I missed this,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the quiet moment.

“Me too,” you whisper back, brushing a kiss on the corner of her lips, your hands finding their way into hers.

She presses another kiss to your lips, this one lingering, and you both relax into the warmth of each other, the world outside fading as the night slips by.

There’s no rush, just the two of you, lost in the soft comfort of being close, the rest of the night spent in quiet kisses and shared smiles, wrapped up in each other as the movie plays on in the background. There is no need for more words tonight. You both know you’re in this together, that the promise made earlier will be something you will both work at together. And for right now, that’s enough.

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread

The Sun and The Void

Venezuelan inspired high fantasy

follows a young outcast swordswoman taken in by her grandmother, the dark sorceress for a noble family, who relies on the magic to keep her alive after being attacked by monstrous creatures

and a young noblewoman who’s the shame of her family because of her mixed heritage and desire to use magic

both are manipulated by those with more power than them into a plot to free an ancient evil god

mineral based magic, politics, nonhuman MCs

[nothingunrealistic]

can we all agree right now that “admirals fund” is a stupidly anticlimactic title for the billions series finale

[ceilidho]

sirius c

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 7; ghoap x reader) [tags: noncon, implied cheating (in the context of Ghost's refusal to be a negotiation king lol), very nsfw] first part >> last part

-

No one tells you what to do when you finally notice the larger animal watching you from the thicket. 

It's been awhile now, you suspect. So long that it's managed to follow you all the way home.

Now they insist on helping you around the shop while you try to work. Try being the operative word. It’s hard to get much done with Simon scaring off all the customers and Johnny dogging at your heels, practically glued to your hip. You briefly consider stabbing him with the snips but then think the better of it. Simon’s stare follows you too closely for you to think you’d get away with it. 

Plus, after this morning—you cut that thought off at the root lest embarrassment make your eyeballs burn right out of your head. Despite the fact that he never brings it up, you can’t shake the thought that Simon knows. His face is just as expressionless with the mask off, which rests like a heavy weight on the kitchen table, imbued with a meaning too potent, too loaded, for you to fully digest or, really, understand in any concrete way. 

But the glint in his flinty eyes flirts with amusement. Brushes close to it. 

“What?” you snap, eggs dangling precariously from your fork.

His stare hasn’t wavered once since sitting you across from him. He doesn’t smirk nor snicker, but you can feel the laugh like a phantom limb that aches until you try to scratch it. He has a face carved from marble or granite, subject to some horrific fate. A statue pulled down from its pedestal and hauled into the river, now dragged out waterlogged and barnacle-crusted. Something terrible happened here and now something else wears its face.

His knees knock against yours under the table again, forcing one leg to spread to accommodate him. You stare at the elbow resting on your table as he chews off the end of a strip of bacon.

He doesn’t say anything, but you know he must have heard you and Johnny in the washroom earlier in the morning. Simon hadn’t even attempted to feign sleep when you’d come out flustered and turned around, stomach in knots. 

You can’t even look at Johnny for help because he stands behind the two of you at the counter, no space for him at your small kitchen table. Your life isn’t built to accommodate two men of their size; it’s hardly able to hold space for just the one.

Nevertheless, they stretch it to fit their needs.

Begrudgingly, you have to admit that Simon does help you out around the flower shop. He fixes the door to the supply closet that always jams, hoses down the sidewalk in front of the store where someone vomited near the entryway the night before, and even gives you a couple hours alone to yourself when he drags Johnny with him to do the bouquet deliveries. 

They come back with coffee in takeaway cups and pastries in a waxy bag and you nearly moan when you notice the label on the cup. Coffee from the good coffee shop across town. You actually moan when you sink your teeth into an almond croissant and then blink your eyes open wide when you hear Johnny groan in response. 

You steel yourself to keep your knees from knocking together.

It’s been a week since you saw him last. Hard to believe. You’ve been distant, rightfully so, contemplating the state of your relationship and coaxing yourself to the brink of texting him that it’s over, only to give up at the last possible minute. The tides receding again. 

You don’t think about how much you missed him. 

Since this morning, you’ve been on edge. Half tempted to corral Johnny into your apartment upstairs for some alone time. You don’t think Simon would allow that though, whether out of some sadistic glee in seeing you squirm or out of jealousy. It doesn’t seem unlikely. He acts like Johnny is his to do with what he pleases, and Johnny beams up at him like the sun and lets him.

You hadn’t realized there had been a third person in your relationship. Now it feels like his presence has always been felt. You can’t imagine Johnny without the half-shadow cast over his face.

All day, you wait for Johnny to break. Part of you hopes that it’ll be sooner rather than later. Unless he’s been entertaining someone on the side—and, for reasons unbeknownst to you, you discount that thought the second it comes to you, sure that you’d know if there was another woman—it’s likely that he hasn’t fucked in a week. He acts like it too, hovering close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. Every accidental step back comes with a chance of landing straight into his arms. 

When you touch his arm gently to ask him to help you move a heavy flower pot, he looks down at you with irises gone black, ready to fuck on a dime. It’s not the right place or time, and you’re still tremendously pissed at him for letting his superior grope you in front of their whole platoon or whatever, but you’ve also gone a week without his dick, and you’re starting to think that your pride shouldn’t get in the way of good dick.

But then he looks over at the hulking figure haunting the doorway and draws back. The shadow on your relationship again. The tension breaks. Even though he postures and flexes when he helps you move the flower pot, it doesn’t come with an invitation to sneak away to your apartment upstairs. Johnny grits his teeth and holds himself back because Simon tells him to; because, in Simon’s own words, he’s a good lad. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask Simon when Johnny goes to take a leak, but he just stares at you with eyes still darkened by poorly wiped off eye black. 

The oxygen is sucked out of the room when it’s just the two of you. He’s imposing from afar, accentuated by the innate knowledge—gleaned just from looking at him, nothing more than that, just the size of him in his line of work—that he’s the most dangerous thing around, but with no one else to hide behind, you can’t help but feel like a trapped animal. 

“Means he knows who’s in charge,” he says. 

Like that’s supposed to tell you anything. 

The air still crackles with tension when Johnny comes back. He glances around almost nervously, pupils dilating. 

“The two of ye finally gettin’ on?” he asks.

There’s a moment where you consider ripping the veil down and saying, no, we aren’t, Johnny. You quisling. You can see exactly how uncomfortable I am. It’s more than visible; it’s oozing from my pores. You’ve let a wild animal into my house and now it won’t leave. In fact, it’s pissing on my sheets to mark its territory. You let it in knowingly, and even though you know something’s wrong, you’re letting it get worse.

Simon’s smile is severe and whetted when he cuts off your train of thought. “Reckon we're getting on like a house on fire, eh?” 

You can’t muster more than a weak smile and nod in response to that.

Around mid afternoon, a regular client calls in with a large, last minute order. You accept it because it’s nothing you don’t already have in stock, but it means you have to close the shop early to work on her order and then load up the van to drive to her place to drop the flowers off.

“I’ll come with you,” Simon grunts when you flip the sign and tell the two of them about your plans.

You freeze, a shudder rippling down your spine. “That’s not necessary—I can do it myself.”

“Don’t care.”

“I do it all the time when you’re not here!”

“It’s not up for debate,” he says, eyes going hard. Daring you to argue.

You’ve been getting the sense all day that he’s been trying to corner you, trying to get you on your own. You evade his efforts like a prey animal, but all that does is make him work harder for it. 

You look to Johnny for any kind of reassurance, someone to back you up and agree that you’re more than capable since you do this all the time, but he just grins from behind the counter where he helps cut lengths of cellophane and ribbon for the bouquets. “Aye, hen, let him help. Ye cannae carry all of that yourself.”

Your brain clicks back on when you’re barrelling towards your client’s place at breakneck speed, far too fast for a residential road. It’s not you driving though. Simon has himself parked in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel and the other dangling loosely out the window. His driving makes your stomach churn, nausea brewing. You bone-knuckle the grab handle reflexively. 

“Could you slow down?” you hiss out through clenched teeth.

Simon ignores you until you start to scroll through your phone to distract yourself. He transfers the hand on the wheel to jostle your knee with his free hand. “Eyes on the road.”

“I’m not even driving you,” you squawk, heart thudding in your chest when his hand doesn’t lift off your knee. 

“Tell me when to turn, doll.” The pet name makes your stomach jump. When he says it, his hand tightens over your knee, thick fingers with scraped up knuckles curling around, the width of his palm wider than your kneecap and you stare down dumbly, rabbit heart careening at the same speed as the van. 

You’re so dumbfounded that you nearly miss the street. He takes the turn suddenly when you mention it instead of making the sensible call to go up the next street and then come back down, and you swear and yell when he nearly takes the van onto the right two wheels. 

The sweat is still dripping down the nape of your neck when he parks in front of the client’s venue.

Simon ignores any attempt of yours to help unload the van. All you can do is watch helplessly as he carries multiple arrangements into the venue at once, leaving you to handle the contract and payment collection. The situation is spiraling rapidly out of your control. 

Your client, a housewife about a decade or so older than you, eyes him as he passes with two flower pots tucked under his arms. 

“I didn’t know you changed staff,” she murmurs, eyes following him into the next room and lingering on the backs of his thighs when he bends down to deposit the flower pots, making the material of his pants strain tight around his glutes and hamstrings. 

“I didn’t,” you protest, shaking your head. “That’s—he’s my boyfriend’s coworker. Um, his boss, I mean. I think. He’s just helping out for the day.”

“Well, I know how I’d like him to help out,” someone else giggles. One of the venue staff, judging by her uniform. Even your client titters at that.

Simon’s more approachable with the mask off, it seems. Still verging on the preternatural, but at least without the mask he seems more human. All six-foot-five-inches of him, arms and legs packed with a generous helping of muscle and fat; a square jaw must be appealing to any sex-parched person within range. It makes your jaw clench.

“Here’s your receipt,” you grit out before ripping it off the payment terminal and handing it to her. She blinks at your dour mood, unused to a less than professional version of you, but that’s what Simon’s presence does to you. Sours you right up. A lemon squeezed right into the mouth.

He’s posted by the van when you come out still scowling and itching for a row. He frowns at the look on your face. “Fix your attitude. You’ve already upset Johnny enough.”

You halt in your tracks, dumbstruck. “I’ve upset Johnny?”

“Yeah. So fix it before we get back.”

You’ve officially reached your limit. All day, you’ve been waiting to go nuclear, bad mood settling deeper and deeper into you because you’ve never been good at managing your anger. The audacity to blame you for this whole situation nearly makes you lose your head. 

Simon looks almost bored when you stomp up to him and stab a finger into his chest. You pointedly do not let yourself focus on how little his chest gives beneath your finger. “All of this was your fault for sexually harassing me in the first place. I don’t even think you were ever sorry for that—this all just feels like some fucked up attempt to break me and Johnny up.”

He stares down at you. “You think I want Johnny for myself?”

Heat flares under your collar, but you push on. “I do. And you know what? You can have him. I don’t need this. Johnny clearly values your approval more than mine anyway or none of this ever would have happened once he caught you groping me in broad daylight. If you want him so bad, nothing I do is going to work, so why even bother? He’s yours. The both of you can fuck off when we get back—I’m sick of having you in my space.”

The tirade leaves you panting by the end of it, and then you look into his eyes. 

You wonder if it’s a universal phenomenon to sense the moment when you’ve made a grave miscalculation. It must be. The feeling is overwhelming; for you, it throbs in your very bones. 

Simon’s expression never changes, but the light behind his eyes starts to flicker in a different way, and you are suddenly conscious of him not just as a man but as a man paid to kill. A professional at that. At least a dozen bodies under his belt and likely more, and yet you stand chest to chest with him like you’re somehow tougher than that; like all those bodies mean nothing, like his knife hasn’t quenched its bloodthirst ad infinitum, like his arms haven’t felt a neck crack until it’s become a habit, an easy kill, a morning fix. 

You’ve never felt more like meat than under his gaze. 

“Get your ass in the van,” he commands, and you listen because your mouth has gone dry and you understand now, somewhere deep in your reptile brain, a little creature hissing at you to turn and run, that he doesn’t warn. He just does. 

Humiliation festers under your skin when he buckles you in. Your mouth opens on a smart remark until you catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye and it’s all anger leaking tar, mafic lava dark and flowing, smooth and lobed and striated with hellfire. 

You think at first that he’s just going to drive you home. Your words might have offended him, but the lack of refutation makes you think that at his core, he must agree. Simon is just another man with an unholy allegiance to ego, an ugly incarnation of desire and pride that you might have briefly mistook as a person as complex as yourself until he snuffed that inkling right out with a hand on your ass. 

Then, lost in your thoughts, you miss when he pulls over and puts the van in park. 

You hear the click of your seatbelt, but your head doesn’t have time to turn before Simon hauls you over the center console and into his lap, a hand already clamping over your mouth to muffle your scream. 

“I’ve had enough of the fuckin’ attitude, girl,” Simon snarls into your ear, shoving his hand down the front of your pants without any preamble, the stretchy jogger fabric not putting up any resistance. “I haven’t got the patience for it. We’ll sort you out and knock these stupid notions from your skull.”

You must shriek under his palm because his fingers tighten, digits pressed into your jaw to the point of aching. It’s hard to tell under the white hot fear that washes over you, nearly blinding you. 

If it bothers him to find you dry under your panties, he doesn’t say anything. Calloused fingers spread your labia wide and trace over your clit lazily, trying to coax the slick out of you. You squirm in his hold, desperate to somehow wriggle out, but Simon chooses now to give you a glimpse of his strength, holding you tight to his chest. No matter how much you squirm, there’s no way out of his hold. Shouting behind his palm doesn’t help either; Simon just curls his hand tighter over your mouth. 

Horror blooms in your chest when your core starts to warm up at his touch. The first traitorous bead of wetness nearly has you apoplectic with rage. His fingers saw up and down over your slit until he thinks you’re wet enough to handle two fingers shoved knuckle deep. 

“Enough of that,” Simon grunts when you yelp and knee the underside of the steering wheel in your haste to get away. “It’s just two. You’ve been fucked before; you can take it.”

Your knee aches from slamming into the steering wheel, but it’s nothing compared to the ache of his fingers stretching you open, the skin around his knuckles delicate and febrile. For all his flaws, Johnny loves getting his mouth on your pussy before trying to cram his cock in, addicted to the taste of you on his tongue when he’s got you folded in half and taking his dick like a champ. Simon seems like he wouldn’t mind railing you in the back of the van without any prep whatsoever. 

“Can’t wait to break you on my cock,” he growls, his breath hot over your neck, and lust stinking up the van so bad that the air is nearly rancid with it. Sulfuric. “You think you’ve had it rough with Johnny? You don’t have a fuckin’ clue what you’re in for with me.”

His hunger is a noxious, billowing cloud. Miasma like. It threatens to smother you. His shaft is hard under your ass, evident when he thrusts his hips up. Your ensuing yip makes him grunt, gratified, like his pleasure comes part from your shock. 

“I’m not explaining this shit anymore. This is the way it’s gonna be from now on—no discussion, no arguing, no nothing. It’s not up for negotiation.”

Simon’s fingers piston into you without remorse, brutal hunger foisted off on your body. You again try desperately to push away from him, almost levitating out of his arms until he forces you back down and bites down hard over your clothed shoulder. The horn stays silent when you try to honk it, mocking you somehow. You wonder if anyone would hear your muffled cries from beneath Simon’s hand if they happened to pass by, or if they’d chance a glance into the van and see the devil himself playing with your pussy in his lap and keep on walking. 

Your body plays you for a fool though, sweltering under his touch. When he growls in your ear, your pussy clenches up nice and tight, and slick drips down your inner thighs. 

A third finger nearly makes you choke on your gasp. You go quiet after that save for the occasional whimper, all of your energy concentrated on accommodating his fingers, each as wide as almost two of yours. A fourth almost doesn’t feel fathomable, but then he sinks it into you and every thought leaks out of your head.

“Christ, you’re a dream when you shut your mouth, aren’t you, doll?” Simon breathes, nosing the corner of your jaw. “Johnny picked a nice little cunt for himself.” 

He doesn’t pick up on the irony somehow. Even shaking in his lap, your brows furrow at his words, a barb on the tip of your tongue until a glob of slick leaks from you and wrenches you back out of your head. 

He clicks his tongue against his teeth all condescendingly when your breathing goes hitched and panicked, so close to coming that you feel a hairsbreadth from it. When you jump at the sound of his tongue snapping in your ear, he chuckles, the broad chest at your back shaking with his laughter.

“There we go,” Simon murmurs, rubbing a soothing hand over your belly. “Tired, eh? Just need to come and have a nap. I know Johnny left you hanging this morning. Poor girl.”

You hadn’t even noticed that he’d dropped his hand from your mouth to your stomach, but there’s nothing to do about it now. All you can do is lean back against him and stare at the fine, blond hair on his knuckles as he drags it over your belly button in slow, languid strokes. 

“Oh god—” you groan when he thumbs your pearled clit and sinks his fingers in as deep as they’ll go, your hole stretched too tight. 

Sweat beads on your hairline. It feels like tears might be leaking down your cheeks, but it’s hard to say. The only thing you can do is focus on not coming apart at the seams.

The air in the van is moistened by your breath, the windows almost completely fogged up. Your lower back aches from arching into his hand. When it comes out in a sob, he tells you he’ll have Johnny massage it when the two of you get home. 

“It’s always gonna hurt a little with me,” Simon says, and you almost mistake it for apologetic until he pulls you into an open-mouthed kiss that makes you twist your neck and ignores the way you whimper into his mouth.  

You nearly black out when he finally makes you come, your head tipping back and resting on his shoulder. You tense in his grasp and open your mouth on a soundless moan when your walls spasm around his fingers. Nothing you can do but let it happen. Like splintering down the middle. It hits you so hard that your belly cramps. 

Shame hits you so much harder. A half second after, like the sky splitting open and a voice thundering down, you know what you did. 

Your leg gives a feeble twitch when he pulls his fingers out, his palm soaked with your juices. You’re a limp mess of sour sweat and come in his lap, reeking of sex musk and a warm, spicy scent. 

You squeal and jolt back to awareness when he pushes a finger back in, sensitive to the point of pain. “Simon, I can’t—”

“Hold still; m’not done yet,” he cuts you off, irritation layered in his voice again. 

You don’t have to endure it for as long this time at least; he paws at your overworked sex and pants in your ear like a bear. Luxuriating in the soft, wet folds of your pussy. His touch isn’t clumsy, but it feels like he’s making up for lost time. It almost makes you wonder how long he’s wanting to get between your legs, but that thought evaporates when he reaches further down to press his fingers against the rim of your other hole, chuckling into your hair when you clench up. 

Then, after a few minutes, he pulls his hand out of your joggers and pats your belly with his wet fingers, leaving dewy strands of your juices on your skin before helping you back into the passenger seat. You don’t even have it in you to protest when he buckles you in again. You even accept it when he leans over to plant another wet kiss on your mouth, one with too much tongue and too much teeth, come drunk and aching for any kind of affection. 

“Sweet as pie, eh?” Simon rasps, eyes half-lidded and heady. Almost lovesick. “Couldn’t have asked for better.”

You stare at the side of his head as he drives the two of you back to the shop, eyes glued to his cauliflower ear. Rough son of a bitch. Brute strength hewn into his bones, covetous need in his veins.

And this is what your boyfriend thought was appropriate to bring home. 

He stops one more time to feed his cock down your throat before you make it home. Your tongue curls around the mushroomed head of dick when he drags your head down, the wiry hair at his crotch tickling your nose. The scent of him here is pungent, musky. Old lichenous rocks and rust like blood on your tongue. You’re so pliable that you hardly even gag when it touches the back of your throat. 

His come is still hot and tacky on your tongue when he pulls you into his lap to let you cry it out, wiping up your tears with a rough thumb. It’s a while before you manage to settle down again. 

Johnny’s still beaming behind the counter when you come in, Simon at your rear to keep you from running, his hand planted firmly at the small of your back. You can barely look your boyfriend in the eye. You’re afraid he’ll see it plain as day on your face, hair mused and lips swollen from sucking his lieutenant off in the van on the drive home. 

“The two of ye have a good time all by yourselves?” he asks, either deliberately ignoring the obvious or naively trusting. You don’t know which would be worse.

You can hear the dry grin in Simon’s voice. “We had a nice chat, didn’t we, doll?”

All you can muster is a weak smile and croak, “Yep. We did.”

You hold off a flinch when Simon’s hand slips down and grabs a handful of your ass.

[wenigstenshabeichesversucht]

Girls Castellan might like

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Athena kid!Reader

Summary: After talking to Annabeth, you try to figure out who Luke likes. And what would be the best way to do this other than a list?

Warnings: fluff, english is not my native language

Word Count: 2.6k

First when you had arrived, Camp Half-Blood sounded like a dream. A place where you were finally safe, thanks to Mr. D. the weather was always good and there were many activities. But after some time, doing always the same stuff got boring. Learning ancient Greek, cleaning stables, Pegasus riding, picking strawberries, Sword and archery training, Volleyball, Capture the Flag, swimming in the lake, and campfire singalongs. Every week it was the same. Thanks Aphrodite, you were all hormonal teenagers and at least there was sometimes exciting drama at camp.

Like right now, you were sitting at breakfast, and you couldn't help but notice, that Lucy, Daughter of Aphrodite, was glaring holes in the back of Luke Castellan’s head. Clutching the knife firm that her knuckles were white, she looked as if she was about to jump up and pounce on the Hermes cabin counselor. A big contrast to yesterday, when they couldn't keep their hands off each other around the campfire. So, what happened in the darkness of the night?

"You see it too?”, you asked your half-sister Annabeth curious, who already had assessed the whole situation.

“It’s not surprising, she isn’t his type.”

“Not his type?”, you echoed taken aback.

Before Luke and Lucy were a thing, only for ten days but still a thing, he had something with one of Lucy’s half-sisters. There had been a lot of drama, when Luke had ended things with Stephanie and was seen kissing Lucy three days later. It had been a lot of fun, maybe except for Luke, Stephanie, and Lucy. But back to the actual situation, after this story, everybody, you too, though that Luke’s type were beautiful girls, preferable daughters of Aphrodite. And who could blame him? They were otherworldly pretty.

“He likes feisty girls who are good fighters”, Annabeth told you unaffected while picking at her bacon with her fork.

“How do you know that?”

Annabeth and Luke were close, like siblings. But you couldn’t imagine neither Annabeth nor Luke lying down on one of their beds and talking about girls.

“Because he is so obvious.”

If she said so. You hadn't noticed it yet, but maybe you hadn't looked closely either. You had wanted to spare yourself the pain.

“And who does he like?”, you dared a short look at Luke, who was laughing about something Chris had said. Seeing this, you couldn’t help it, your lips pulled up to a small smile. Next to you Annabeth rolled her eyes. But you only had eyes for the pretty head counselor of cabin 11.

“Won’t tell you”, astonished you teared your eyes of Luke and looked to your little sister. A smug smile was dancing around her mouth. “You always complain that you're bored.  Perhaps finding it out may help you battle your boredom.”

You immediately regretted complaining to her about your boredom at the start of your breakfast. This was now her revenge.

“Can you at least tell me if it’s a girl or a boy.”

“A girl, that's the only tip you get.”

Like every organized person you started your research with a list. Your list with the very fitting title ‘Girls Castellan might like’ included every girl at camp, except the ones who were too young and the girls you knew, were bad at fighting.

Next your research led you in the arena, where Luke was teaching sword fight. Clutching your list, like it was your most prized possession, you searched for a good place to keep an eye on everything. With a little bit of luck, you would be able to watch, how Luke was interacting with some of the girls on your list and could draw further conclusions from this.

You weren’t the only one, who came just to watch the practice. A few seats away sat a few daughters of Aphrodite. And you quickly understood why.

Holding a sword Luke was a force to be reckoned with. His movements were smooth as butter, and you couldn’t help noticing his muscles tensing under his shirt as he performed various exercises. Your gaze unconsciously slipped to his large hands, which were loosely holding the sword. After years of wielding a sword, they must be covered with calluses. How would it feel, if his callused hands would wander over your body, cupping your hips to pull you closer to him?

“What are you scheming?”

An all too familiar voice snapped you out of your daydream. Caught like a deer in headlights you looked up to Luke Castellan, who was standing right in front of you. Just looking at his hands, you could feel a blush slowly creeping up. Damn hormones.

“I’m not scheming”, you protested while stuffing the list hastily in the back pocket of your jeans shorts.

“Sure, that's why you're hiding the note”, amused Luke’s brown eyes sparkled. And what beautiful eyes he had. Stop! You had to concentrate! “Besides kids of Athena don’t just sit around and watch people, you lot are always scheming.”

“If you say so”, trying to seem cool, you shrugged your shoulders. “But that’s not why you came here.”

“Always so wise, fancy a fight?”

„There is no way I will beat you with a sword.”

And why fight if you already knew that you would lose? That wasn’t your style. You and your half-siblings knew better than that.

“What about hand-to-hand combat?”

Now you were talking! In hand-to-hand combat you could stand a chance.

“So desperate to lose, Castellan?”, you teased trying to drive away the nervousness that had settled in your bones. Sometimes you hated the nervousness Luke Castellan made you feel in his present, but looking at him, you knew, that you could never hate him.

“When it comes to you, I’m always desperate”, there was a time, were words like that form Luke’s lips, had made your heart flatter. That was before you realized that he was just a big flirt and wasn’t serious. But now, older, and wiser, you just rolled your eyes, before you motioned for him to follow you down in the arena.

“Flirting will not help you to win.”

Luke just shrugged, “Doesn't hurt trying.”

Yours and Luke’s hand-to-hand combats were famous around the camp. Luke had quick reflexes, was tall and full of muscles, while you were a strategic mastermind, always three steps ahead. And none of you shied away from getting down and dirty. Therefore, it was no surprise, that a ring of onlookers had already formed before one of you could throw the first punch. Besides, you were too focused to really mind it. You had already fought against Luke so often, that it felt more like a rehearsed dance than a fight. Maybe this was your way of dancing. While the Aphrodite girls danced around the bonfire, you danced in an arena to the music of your own heartbeat.

Like always it was Luke who opened the fight. With one large strike he closed the distanced between you and tried to punch you in your face, so your hands would go up, and he could kick you in your belly. Seeing this coming, you caught his hand with yours and while he lifted his leg, your swiped yours under his other one to bring him down. Letting go of his hands, you watched with a smile, how the tumbled down to the floor. But instead of going after him, you gave him the time you stand up. He was stronger than you, so you wanted to avoid wrestling with him on the floor so early at all costs, it would only end badly for you. First, he had to get tired, and none knew better that you how to wear down Luke Castellan.

His next three punches you easily dodged and then you stroke. Letting go of a flurry of blows it was Luke’s turn to block. For a moment you just exchanged blows, neither of you managed to blow the other's cover. But then Luke clipped the side of your face and while hot pain shot through your left cheek, you stumbled back. However, as fast as he punched you, you recovered. Dipping under his outstretched arm, you twisted said arm in a painful angle. You could hear his sharp inhale. And maybe it brought you a little bit of joy. But before you knew what happened, Luke had knelt and thrown you over his shoulder. To everyone's surprise, including yours, you somehow managed to land on your feet. Taking advantage of the chance that his face was still near your knees, you rammed your knee into his nose, drawing first blood. Both of you watched stunned how it dripped down from his chin to the floor, where it mixed with the sand. You had won sooner than any of you thought.

“It was a good fight, sorry about your nose”, you winced, but Luke just waved you off.

“It’s fine.  I would have preferred it if you had won the fight with a tackle, but that's the way it is.”

Before you could respond a pretty girl from cabin 10 rushed to Luke with a handkerchief in her hands, and you were forgotten. Not wanting to watch Luke soaking up her attention, you retreated.

Only when you had left the arena and wanted to reach for your list, you found it missing.  As if struck by lightning, you froze. You were pretty sure, that you didn’t lose the list. If it had fallen out of your pocket, you would have seen it lying on the floor, you were sure of it. That could only mean one thing. Just thinking about it made you wish the ground would open up and swallow you. Hot panic shot up your back and you felt like screaming. Someone had stolen your list, without you even noticing.  There was only one person who got close enough to you to do this and at the same time had the nimble fingers required, Luke Castellan.

At dinner, you were sulking in self-pity while you were trying very hard to look everywhere except at a certain table. Maybe if you would not draw his attention for a week or maybe two, he would forget about the list. Or at least you could pretend that he forgot. The other option was, that you would flee from camp and never look back. Considering the monsters that lurked outside the borders for young demigods, the first was clearly the safer option.

The fear that he would share the list with all the campers, and they would laugh at you, gnawed at you, that you couldn't swallow a bite. Your throat felt like it was tight up, yet it was your hands who were tight up. You couldn’t do anything besides waiting for the storm to blow over, and you hated it.

Your thoughts got interrupted by a paper plane which landed perfectly in front of you. Surprised, your head shot up, and your eyes locked with a pair of dark brown ones. Sending you a wink, Luke dived into conversation with his siblings, and you couldn’t help but groan. His father was the messenger god, if Luke wanted to convey a message, he could do it by paper plane without any problems.

Torn you looked at the paper plane. Did you really want to know what he had to say? What if he just wanted to make fun of you? But if not? With shaking hands, you picked up the paper. Your mum was Athena, goddess of war, you wouldn't hide from Castellan, you would face this fight. Determinedly unfolding the paper, your eyes scanned the list spread out in front of you. You knew this list; you had written this list. Everything was how you had left it, beside one thing. Luke has crossed out the ‘might’ in the title and had replaced it with a ‘doesn't’ in his scraggly handwritten. Now the new title of your list read as ‘Girls Castellan doesn't like ‘.    

A few days passed and you weren’t wiser. There must be a mistake! The list you made included every girl, that could fight and wasn’t a child. If Annabeth wasn't wrong, Luke had to like one of them. And Annabeth was never wrong. Crouching on your bottom lip you looked down on the list in your hands.

You were sitting in the grass near the strawberry fields, the sun was warming your face. When you weren't busy avoiding Luke, you were thinking about the list and its meaning. By changing the title Luke hinted, that he didn’t like any of the girls on the list. You had double and triple checked it, you hadn’t forgotten anyone. But Annabeth couldn’t be wrong, that had never happened before. It was maddening. It was like a riddle you were too dumb to solve, and you hated it. You were a daughter of Athena for god’s sake. Right now, you were possible one of her greatest shames, if she was interested enough in you to know what you were up to.

Before more negative thoughts could fill your mind, a shadow appeared over you. As you looked up, calluses hands stole the list out of your fingers. Groaning you faced none other than Luke Castellan.

“Still trying to find out who I fancy?”, he asked with a shit eating grin, and you couldn’t help but blush. But before you exposed yourself any further, you went into offense. As well known, attack was the best defense.

“You mislead me intentional”, you accused him. “The list includes every girl from camp. If Annabeth not wrong, you must like one of them.”

And you both knew Annabeth was never wrong.

“Actually, you forgot one person on your little list.”

That couldn’t be. You checked the list, more than once. You hadn’t! But it wouldn’t hurt to check the list another time.

“Give me the list”, you demanded, but Luke just hold the list over his head out of your reach. This was how he wanted to play it? Fine by you. Springing to your feet, you reached for the list, but Luke was taller than you. Tiptoeing you unconsciously moved closer to Luke. You first realized how close you were, as he wrapped his arm around your waist. Fighting a blush you hold your breath. You were so close, that Luke could certainly feel your heart almost jumping out of your chest.

“You are missing from the list”, he whispered, and you just could gape. That was too good to be true. That must be a dream.

“Because you can’t fancy me.”

“Why not?”

Truly confused, Luke furrowed his brows. Never had you seen him like this, and slowly you realized that he wasn’t joking. He didn’t want to trick you, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. Had you not wished for this for a long time?

“I’m not pretty like the Aphrodite girls you dated”, you confessed your insecurity. But Luke didn’t want to hear anything about it.

“In my eyes you are. You are tougher, braver, smarter, and far more beautiful. You are perfect. Can I kiss you?”

Lost for words, you could just nod. Carefully taking your face in his hands, he stroked back your hair, before lowering his lips to yours. The kiss was sweet, slow and everything you ever wanted. Sadly, it was over way too fast.

“I’m very glad Annabeth told me to help you with your project, on the day we fought. Otherwise, I wouldn't have stolen your list”, Luke confessed, still caressing your face. Oh, you see what she did there.

“Seems like she did set us up. Should we prank her for this?”

“Did I already tell you, that you are perfect?”            

[pastorpresent]

Since Logan moved in, it was finally deemed that their singular double bed was an unrealistic sleeping arrangement for three people. It had barely worked when it was just him and Al, but Logan was fucking huge and most of the time the older mans attempts at sleeping on the lumpy, cocaine stuffed couch would end up with him on the floor and aching the next day.

Wade saved up and managed to find a sofa bed that would actually fit in their tiny living room (which he only did so Logan would stop bitching, obviously. He only worked an extra thirty hours ish because Logan was pissing him off with his moaning, and Wade was prepared to kill anyone who suggested otherwise).

Originally, it was supposed to be for Logan - but him being the annoyingly gracious gentleman he was, he offered it up to Al since it was now the most comfortable sleeping option going. (Wade once tried to tell him to give it up, that Al didn't have a good side to get on, but then he'd been proven wrong by the fact that Al was fucking smitten by the bastard. Wade was convinced they were conspiring against him.)

It left them both sharing the double bed and, again, Logan was fucking huge. Even if Wade made every effort to restrain himself and lie strictly on the very edge of the bed, nine times out of ten he'd wake up the next morning curled around the big hunk of muscle.

It felt... so fucking good. Wade wasn't a cuddler, funnily enough, but there was just something about it being Logan specifically. He'd genuinely never felt safer than he did wrapped up in his arms, listening to the quiet snores of the older man and feeling his heart beat right up against his own.

And it's not like it was a conscious thing he was doing - he was literally asleep! Plus Logan never objected, and he always cuddled back, and sometimes there was a tiny and disgustingly hopeful voice in the recesses of his mind asking if their position was due to Logan pulling him in rather than Wade's unconscious and persistent disregard for personal space.

They'd had this unspoken, completely-undiscussed-for-any-period-of-time-whatsoever arrangement for about two months when one night Wade woke up to agonising pain.

He blinked blearily, brain still half asleep as he struggled to comprehend what was going on, and his first thought was Logan. If someone had broken in, what if he was hurt too? What if they'd found a way to kill him? It felt like he was dying, with the horrific sharp stabbing in his sides scratching his heart and popping both lungs like balloons, leaving him unable to breathe properly as his chest sucked inwards. What if he was truly dying? And worse still - what if they'd found a way to kill Logan?

There was a soft growl that tapered off into a small whimper just inches from his face, and he forced himself to calm down and focus.

They were locked in their usual embrace, but when Wade looked up at Logan's face, it was screwed up. He was shaking his head rapidly, breaths coming out short and laboured, his eyes still tightly closed.

It was then he realised what the source of his own pain was. Six adamantium claws piercing through both sides of his body, ripping up his organs into gruesome confetti.

Shit.

Logan thrashed a little, his claws deepening, and Wade cried out a little at the explosion of pain. He lifted an arm and clamped it down onto Logan's forearm to not only steady himself, but to try to get the man to wake up from whatever nightmare he was having. Wade knew too well about how violently real they could feel. It really wasn't a stretch or exaggeration to say that seeing the frightened look on Logan's sleeping face, usually the only time he got to look some sort of peaceful, was more hurtful than any of the physical pain Wade was currently experiencing.

When he gripped Logan's arm, he was shaking like a leaf.

"Logan," he called, struggling around his rearranged insides, tightening his grip on the man's arm in an attempt to ground him.

Logan snarled, embedding his claws deeper until they were peeking out the opposite sides of Wade's body, his warm fists pressing against skin, and if Wade could bring himself to focus on anything other than the blindingly white shot of pain or the emotional turmoil on his best friends face he may of mourned his now tattered Hello Kitty sleep shirt.

Logan's claws hurt sinking into him even when he had the suit on, but he'd never experienced their wrath without it - and it was much worse.

"L-Logan," he called out, coughing up blood and chunks of flesh onto the already destroyed bed sheets and yeah- he'd probably need to change them now, considering he was bleeding out most of his body's blood all over them. He just hoped the mattress wasn't completely fucked, because his paycheck probably couldn't stretch to new sheets and a new mattress.

Logan let out a sound halfway between a moan and a sob, and there was a wetness beneath his lashes. Ok no - this needed to end now.

"It's W-Wade, Logan. M' right here, you're s-safe, 'ts ok," it was getting really difficult to talk, especially loud enough for Logan to hear him above his own sounds of distress.

He ran his fingers up and down Logan's arm, scratching lightly. His own body was feeling dangerously weak, and he knew he was about to die from blood loss probably - which usually took a good few hours to regenerate from.

He couldn't have that. He couldn't leave Logan like this, so he needed to pull him out of it soon.

He hesitated for only a second before inching himself closer, gasping and writhing at the agony it caused, and let his head drop against Logan's, moving his hand upwards with a soft grunt to stroke a hand through his hair.

"T's me. L-Logan 'ts ok, y-you're ok," he has to turn his face away to cough wetly into his shoulder, wincing at the metallic taste of blood.

"Lo, please," he pleads quietly, and he isn't sure what does it, but Logan wakes up.

His eyes shoot open, and dart around rapidly, chest heaving, and then they zero in on him. On the bloody mess of their bed, and their current position, and Wade really is getting tired now. His eyelids feel like they weigh a thousand pounds, and he let's the hand he was running through Logan's hair go limp, allowing it to fall against the older mans pillow.

"G'd job, big guy. K-knew you'd come back f'r me," he slurs out, his head lolling back despite wanting nothing more than to keep it pressed against Logan's. He can feel himself slipping.

"Wade. WADE! Fuck, Wade!"

The claws retract out of his body suddenly, and it feels like a punch to his insides. Logan screams, or maybe he does, he's not sure anymore.

He wants to comfort Logan and tell him it's fine, that he'll be healed up and ok in an hour or two, that it wasn't his fault, because he already knows the man will blame himself for this which is beyond fucking stupid.

He can't do or say any of it. His insides are trying to heal, but they'd been so torn up it wasn't all that fast.

"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, Wade stay awake, alright? Keep your eyes open, you asshole. I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry," Logan's panicking, he can hear it in his voice. He's really panicking now, and Wade can't figure out how to communicate that he will be perfectly ok soon enough.

"Baby, please. Please, I'm so sorry."

Did Logan just call him baby? He must really not look great.

He manages to lift that shaking hand off of the pillow behind Logan's head, and lifts it enough to cup the back of his neck, stroking his thumb over the shorter hairs there. Logan wraps his arms around him like he's about to dissapear, pulling him in flush against his warmth, all but cradling him, and he can't tell if the wetness on his shoulder is Logan crying or blood.

Blood seems more likely. The beds covered in it. Wade's covered in it too, and he feels like he should be trying to push Logan away so he doesn't get covered in it as well.

It's the last thing he remembers before the world goes black.

//

When he wakes up, it's daylight - which isn't all that surprising. Regenerating your bodies blood cells was a right bitch, and he'd never had to do it on this big of a scale before.

He blinks his eyes against the harsh lights, and goes to sit up only to be stopped by a soft, perfectly manicured hand against his chest.

"Easy, Wade. Just stay lying down for a minute until your brain catches up," Vanessa advises gently and - Vanessa? What was she doing here?

"Where's Logan?" He blurts, not quite caring if it's rude. He needs to see him. He'd been trapped in that shitty nightmare and then had nobody to talk it over with, since Wade's stupid body decided to give up on him.

He hates the brief look that flashes over Vanessa's face. The twist of anger and disgust, and he doesn't fucking get it which only makes him hate it more.

"What?" He demands, and as much as he was healed up, his lungs still burnt a little when he sat up, brushing her hand away.

"You don't need to worry about that now, Wade. He can't hurt you again. He's gone," she hissed, and Wade had heard her be less seething with grabby customers at the bar.

Her words made his stomach plummet, and his newly generated blood flow went cold.

"What the fuck do you mean 'gone'?! Where the fuck is he?"

The TVA had always offered to send his Logan back to his own timeline. Everytime Logan had dismissed it, said this was his universe now. The idea... fuck, the idea of him back in his own? Where everyone calls him the 'worst wolverine' and he spends all his time alone, shunned by everybody for reasons he's more than made up for... no. No, fuck, please say he didn't go back there.

"Wade, calm down-"

"No! I don't want to fucking calm down! Where's Logan?!"

It's loud and harsh, and he startles himself a little bit because he's never, in all the years he's known her, yelled at Vanessa - but he feels so off balance. Like everything around him is just... wrong, somehow, and he needs to understand why in order to fix it. He needs Logan.

Vanessa removes her hand, mouth opening then snapping shut. Her expression goes from shocked to tight and hard in an instant, but she only holds it for a moment before deflating entirely, shrugging her shoulders.

"I don't know. He called me upset and said he'd hurt you really badly and that you needed help. By the time I got here you were starting to heal but... it was really slow. We patched you up and Logan told me what had happened and... and I lost it, I told him to go and to stay far away from you. No ones heard from him the last couple of days since he walked out," Vanessa looked somewhat guilty, but it didn't quell Wade's anger.

"Hang on - a couple of days? How long was I out?"

"Three days. Colossus said you'd pretty much lost all the blood in your body, and ended up putting you on a drip to help your body regenerate it faster," Vanessa explained, and Wade swallowed.

Three days? He must've been worse off than he'd thought. He knew he couldn't die from it, but to be on the brink for so long sounded... unpleasant. He did feel a pang of sympathy for her then, dealing with that. It's not like his immortality came with a guide book, and so for him to appear so very close to actual death for so long it was likely more than unsettling.

"Look, it wasn't Logan's fault-"

"Wade-" Vanessa tried, her voice exasperated as if she'd been anticipating this.

"I'm serious. Logan didn't mean to do it, he didn't even realise," Wade argued.

"If he knows he could be dangerous he shouldn't of slept in the same bed as you! He- he shouldn't of been doing that anyway!"

The room went painfully quiet after her explosion. There was far too much to unpack in the meaning of her words, and frankly Wade didn't have the time or the energy.

"I'm going to find Logan."

She didn't argue with him when he got up this time.

//

It didn't actually take long for Wade to track him down. With his past history of profession, tracking people down was sort of a specialty at this point.

Didn't hurt that Logan was hard to fucking miss, and even harder to forget. Wade would know a thing or two about that, maybe.

He was just relieved he hadn't high tailed it back to his own universe, even as he pushed his way into the seedy bar and well - if even Wade would describe it as fucking seedy...

He spotted Logan immediately. Hunched over the bar on a tatted bar stool, adorning his old leather jacket ('why don't you get a new one? This ones like, peeling.' Logan had shrugged, adjusting the fabric on his shoulders, 'I like this one.')

The bartender was refusing to serve him another shot, and Logan was begging in that sort of gruff but all together desperate kind of way, promising to leave after this one.

It was so fucking nostalgic of their first meeting that Wade almost wanted to go over there and pull his gun, just for nostalgia sake.

It was equal parts depressing too, because Logan had come so far. In terms of coping with his shit and the alcohol, and yet here he was, back to a literal caricature of square one, ground zero, and it only made Wade that much more pissed at the whole situation.

"You know I won't kiss when you have whiskey breath, peanut," Wade made his presence known in the only way he knew how. Obnoxiously.

He slid up to the bar next to Logan, taking the unoccupied seat to his left.

Logan stared at him for a long moment, eyes scanning over the entirety of him frantically as if he was checking for non-existent damage.

"I'm fine, big guy. Sheesh, you think you're the first to try bleeding me dry? I still don't shut the fuck up for long," he joked, because joking just seemed easier. Nevermind the fact that it was mostly a lie - no one had ever tried that method of murder yet, or at least not purposefully.

Logan was still looking at him with that pained look. It was one he recognised - much akin to the expression he wore the night when he had told him all about the xmen of his old universe and what had happened to them.

"I'm honestly okay. Look," he reached out to grab Logans hand, bringing it to his clothed side to prove he was still all in one piece, but when Logan realised he yanked his hand back so harshly he stumbled off his stool, his face utterly horrified.

"Logan-"

"Don't, Wade! I can't touch you. I can't," Logan stressed, eyes wide.

"It was an accident! Fuck, you were asleep! You didn't mean to do it, and I've healed up completely!" Wade emphasised, but Logan ducked his head to avoid his gaze, swallowing thickly.

"I... I can't fucking risk it, alright? Not again. Jesus, we didn't think..." Logan tapered off, his eyes growing distant, "we didn't think you'd come back from it, bub. I really thought I'd... I'd killed you for good."

Logan wouldn't look at him, but even the emotion in his voice had Wade's newly repaired heart shattering all over again.

"But you didn't. Give me your hand."

Logan frowned, "Wade I'm fucking serious, I can't touch you again. I shouldn't even be anywhere near you after what I did," he argued, and Wade scoffed.

He unholstered one of his guns, relieved that the place was rough enough that doing so barely earned him a sideways glance.

Logan watched him wearily.

Wade jabbed the barrel of the gun against his own torso, turned upwards for a direct shot to his heart.

"What the fuck are you doing?! You're barely healed!" Logan blanched, trying to grab for the gun. Wade clicked the safety off in response, stopping the older man dead in his tracks.

"Let me have your hand and I'll holster it. If you don't, well... I'll just need to shoot to prove I'm not some delicate damsel. I know I have the looks to qualify as a Disney princess, but they won't take me, so you're stuck with me. And that's gonna be a lot fucking harder if you're going to go the running away and avoiding touching me like I'm some sort of plague route, sweetness."

There was a few beats of silence, and Wade really hoped Logan would just take the first option. Lodging a bullet into himself right now sounded fucking painful.

"You're fucking crazy, bub," Logan muttered in disbelief, but reluctantly held his hand out in offering.

Wade put the gun away, grabbing the large, calloused hand in his own scarred one. Logan's was scarred a little too, the only place on his body to show any sort of lasting damage. Little white scratches across each knuckle where the metal retracted out of his body repetitively.

('Does it hurt?' Wade asked one day when they were sat watching mindless TV, staring down at the marks between Logan's fingers. Logan doesn't ask for clarification, or even glance away from the screen, 'everytime.' Something in the way he says it upsets Wade so deeply his chest literally aches for a moment.)

He takes Logan's hand and snakes it beneath his shirt, (he can't even bring himself to make a stupid innuendo about it) guiding it over his healed skin.

Logan flinches, eyes shutting momentarily, breathing slightly shaky, and Wade can feel the tension in his arm, wanting to pull away but not. Trusting Wade, even if he doesn't trust himself.

"It's okay, see? There's nothing there anymore. Feel."

He let's go of Logan's wrist, and the older man gently, so annoyingly gently, runs his finger tips over his sides that were once leaking out oceans of blood between them.

"It doesn't change the facts that I did it. I did it again, and I lucked out again, but if you didn't have your powers..." Logan went to pull his hand away again, but Wade held it firmly in place, searching his face.

"But I do, so we're not worrying about anything else."

He wants to ask what Logan meant by 'again'. He wanted to know everything about the man in front of him, but Wade knew the secrets would come with time. Or not at all, and Wade could make peace with that too if it's what Logan needed.

"I'm really glad you're ok, bub," Logan murmurs after a beat of silence, his gruff tone softer.

Wade smiled, "I'd be better if you'd come home and continue our marathon of keeping up with the kardashians."

Logan side eyed the bar, before turning his entire focus back to Wade, nodding wordlessly.

They left the bar together, and while Wade continued his usual tirade of adhd fuelled conversation, Logan just watched him with a secret smile he'd later swear wasn't there.

And if he occasionally brushed an arm against the mercs side just to make sure he was truly still in one piece, Wade didn't say anything.

[radiance1]

Killer Croc and Jack Fenton are brothers.

Killer Croc was the first born, just a about 5 years older than Jack. Their father was a large man, much larger than should be possible considering he never had a meta gene.

But oh boy would it have not surprised them if he did. Because that man was strong, 10 feet tall, and shrugged off things that would injure most people.

Like a brick to the head.

Anyways.

Croc was entranced with his younger brother; he was so small so much tinier than he had any right to be, and cuter than a button. He babbled like most babies do, but Croc wouldn't think twice before calling his baby brother the best baby of them all.

His dad could fit him in the palm of his hand easily! Which was just one of Jack's many great qualities in his opinion!

Croc and Jack's parents weren't really on the best of terms, Croc could tell. He didn't know why, really, but he didn't want his baby bro to feel unloved in any sort of way, and it's not like he really had friends to hang out with, plus his parents were busy with jobs.

So he mostly spent his time taking care of and playing with Jack. Changing diapers, feeding him, lifting him up and down with his tail, just the normal sibling stuff.

He feels kind of bad for his dad though, whatever kind of job he had didn't even let him come home most days, and when he did he could barely even walk upright without falling asleep and jolting awake. He still made time for them, however, when he got those rare few off days.

He's honestly surprised that man managed to drive a car properly in the state he was in.

Their mother was often out of the house, Crocc didn't know what she was doing but he just thought it was like his dad. Unlike his dad, however, she didn't really like him. He didn't really know why, nor did he really care either if he was to be honest.

Around a year later the tension between their parents got so thick it could be cut with a butter knife. Then it turned to arguments in the rare times they both were in the house, he didn't even know his parents could make such cutting remarks to each other, and then both of them being in the house less than before.

Then when he turned 10, and Jack 5. They got divorced. Croc was left with his mother and Jack got taken by his father. His mother didn't take the divorce well, really, probably because at the same time she got fired from whatever the hell she was doing and was left jobless.

Then she dropped the bomb on his that his dad wasn't even his actual dad and Jack is only his half-sibling and then promptly abandoned him in the sewers with the rats and what was most likely very poisoned water due to it being the sewers and Gotham.

Well. Fuck.

Croc thinks that Jack doesn't even remember him due to how young he was, nor did he ever see his dad again cause, y'know, being abandoned in the sewers and all.

Then multiple years later he ran into his brother again and got DAMN was he tall. Not taller than him, but it was basically the equivalent of a gut punch to Croc, because he remembers his baby bro being so tiny, so baby.

He blames his father's genes for him being 8 feet taller now. A head shorter than him, sure. But he wants back his small baby bro alright.

Then he finds out his baby bro has a family.

And fuck did he not want to involve himself anymore in fear of being a catalyst for tearing said family apart due to being, well, him and all. Then he was promptly (quite literally) dragged over to meet said family despite his stance on the matter.

Then he finds out he's just treated like a normal person with zero amount of fear. His wife? She had to have a giant in her family too because she was 7 feet tall and was smart enough to kick his ass.

His daughter? 6 feet tall and their first meeting she accidently became his therapist. Also, he was sure she was a meta of some kind, probably something to do with wolves.

Then finally, their son.

It felt like he was thrown back to his childhood when he saw him, he looked so much like Jack did, and he was so, so tiny just like his baby bro was. He had to physically hold himself back from doing anything with the kid because he feared he would accidentally break him or something.

Then he found out that apparently his nephew was half-dead and that his brother and his wife hated ghosts with a passion, built a portal to the other side, had their city attack by the ghost king and then promptly found out about their son's half-dead status and had to do a major revamp of basically everything they knew and acted upon.

Which they're still working on.

Oh and also their daughter is a werewolf, she had a meta gene from someone of his dad's side and only recently activated it.

All of that which was a lot to take in for old Killer Croc, also he knew his niece had something to do with wolves.

So, Killer Croc in all of his life from the point of being abandoned at up to now, decided to go screw the bats and whatever they're attempts of figuring out what the fuck's going on with him (look at you Red Hood.) and decided to try and integrate himself into this family and brother's life again as best he can.

[spectersgf]

tyler owens knowing you for years and years and asking you out countless times but you always reject him and he has no idea why. when he asks you for the reason you don't tell him and laugh it off. he makes a bet with (about bullriding; you don't think he's still got it but he knows he does. if he proves you wrong, you have to go on a date with him. of course, you lose.)

you're expecting something low effort — maybe he'll take you to dinner, maybe a drive, something like that. when he picked you up and started driving (in his storm chasing truck, ofc) you thought your prediction was right but he proved you wrong again. he drove you out to a clearing and obviously you made a classic serial killer joke which he laughed at maybe too hard (was it actually that funny?)

he got out of the truck and walked around to your side to open your door and help you down but instead of pulling you to some stupid rock or something, he brings you to the bed of his truck. you hadn't noticed the blankets and pillows and cushions and stuffed lamb that he'd arranged there. you were truly in awe.

he helped you up and the two of you laid back and got comfortable (and extremely close. his eyes were the most beautiful blend of blue and green). the sky was clear and when you looked up it felt like all of the stars were right there. you could feel his gaze on you and it made you blush heavily but you didn't look back at him.

eventually he wore you down and you finally told him why you never went out with him. it wasn't because he was a cocky asshole and you weren't interested. it was because you were scared of getting attached and then something happens to him during a chase. where would that leave you?

he reassures you that he is in fact a professional and you have nothing to worry about, baby and he gives you the most charming but genuine and true smile and it makes you melt and how did you never go out with him before tonight.

the night progresses and you talk about everything and nothing and point out constellations and you're getting closer and closer and soon you're wrapped up in his arms and his nose is in your hair and he isn't going to kiss you on the first date because he's a gentleman but best believe next time he will because he absolutely cannot resist, even on a day-to-day basis and he isn't sure how he has this much self control tonight because you're bathed in moonlight and you look so happy and at peace and he really really wants to but he won't because he was raised right.

when he drops you home he gives you that smile again and this time it's you who can't resist and you lean across the truck and all its weird buttons and you kiss him and it's soft and gentle and affectionate and perfect and when you leave him half-stunned in his truck, you're both left thinking about how perfectly you fit together and you've never been happier about losing a bet.

[sl-ut]

still here

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

description: joel is older than y/n, but that’s never been a concern of hers until very recently.

warnings: UNEDITED, age gap (legal), swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of ageing, mentions of health issues, mentions of insecurities, angsty, i literally stole the final line from tlou s1e3

words: 2.3K

date posted: 29/03/23

(idk how i feel about this yet, the idea just popped into my head and i wrote it in about an hour and a half so don’t be too mad if its not great!)

Fifty-eight was not old. Y/n had been reassuring Joel of that since they had started dating. Maybe he was older than her, but that had very little to do with the way that she felt about him. 

His age was among his biggest insecurities. He was a man who had lived through and was hardened by the apocalypse, while she was just a child when it happened, and was able to deal with the trauma of the world ending much better due to the fact that she simply couldn’t remember any part of her life from before. The apocalypse had taken a great toll on him, both emotionally and physically. 

Twenty-odd years ago, he was a relatively young man, and a rather fit one at that. As a contractor, his body had developed and hardened from the amounts of physical labour that he was constantly performing, and while he was still physically active after the outbreak, his age made it more difficult to prevent his belly from softening and his joints from weakening. He was less willing to admit that he was insecure about his physical appearance, though he did very little to hide it. In fact, he had batted her away during their first few times having sex when she had tried to unbutton his shirt, instead choosing to stay mostly clothed while she was nearly bare. She did her best to assure him that she was very attracted to him, though it still took quite a bit of coaxing before he was willing to shed his clothes in her presence. 

Her attraction was not phased by his age, in fact, it may have been accelerated by it, though she could not deny the fact that it definitely frightened her. When she first met Joel, she was a bright-eyed twenty-year old who was morbidly turned on by the sexy fifty-year old man next door, and was wildly ignorant to the looming danger when she had started a relationship with him a few years later; the world was not built for long lifespans anymore, and there would come a day when Joel would no longer be there with her. During their early relationship, Joel warned her of exactly that, but she waved him off and promised him that it didn’t scare her.

And it hadn’t, until fairly recently. She was grateful that she, Ellie, and Joel had come across Jackson; she was able to let her guard down, socialise, and thrive in the new community. She and Joel were able to settle into their new home while Ellie set up camp in the garage out back, and they could look forward to actually living rather than basic survival. The lessened worry in her life allowed her to see what was right before her for the first time.

She had comforted Joel before when he complained about the pain in his knees and hands, though she was truly seeing the effects that it was having on him since their arrival in Jackson. Just last week, the man had nearly thrown his back out from laughing a bit too hard at something that Ellie said, and his salt-and-pepper hair seemed to have lightened considerably more. 

She had even noted his lowered libido, having gone from wanting her at least once a day to once or twice a week–though she was certain it wasn’t for a lack of physical attraction on his end, as he had been eager when she began to kiss him, only his body seemed to be working against his wants. That was his greatest insecurity yet, especially since it had begun happening on a more regular basis. He was always quick to apologise, offering to help her out in other ways, though she always assured him that everything was fine, and it was.

Everything was fine, but her fear of that changing was growing exponentially with every physical sign of his ageing. She did her best to hide her concerns, knowing that they would only be proof of his insecurities, and instead made an effort to keep him healthy in a more subtle manner, such as suggesting that he eats less red meat, inviting him on long evening strolls through the town, and forcing him to join her for long bubble baths to soothe his aches and pains. If he had picked up on this, he hadn’t mentioned it, and she could always tell when he did, because he would wave it off or do something ridiculous that would only end up proving her point.

Then came the final straw.

She was working in the gardens with Maria that day, chatting back and forth happily and they worked to tidy up the growing crops. They had become good friends in Y/n’s time in Jackson, bonding over their shared love for the Miller boys. Maria had been rambling, going on about something that Tommy had done to piss her off earlier that week, finishing her story with a shake of her head before she changed the subject.

“Oh, I meant to ask you,” the woman turned her head, “How’s Joel feeling today? Tommy told me about what happened, that’s an awful scare. At his age, chest pain is not something to be taken lightly–not to say that he’s old or unhealthy, but you know how it is.”

Y/n froze, tilting her head at the woman, “Tommy told you…chest pain?”

“He never told you.” Maria’s expression tightened, realising that the younger woman had no idea what she was talking about. She sighed, dropping her tools and turning to face Y/n as she placed her hands on her hips, “Look, I don’t mean to be the one causing issues between you two, but this isn’t something to mess around with. The other day, while Joel and Tommy were out on patrol, Tommy said that Joel suddenly got dizzy, weak, and was complaining about some pain in his chest. Now, in saying that, I know that he’s been to the doctor, and he’s probably got his reasons for not telling you.”

Y/n pursed her lips, face hardening at the sudden burn of tears at her waterline, “Yeah, I’m sure he did. When did you say this was?”

“Earlier this week. Tuesday, I think.”

She shook her head. It was Saturday, meaning that it had been almost an entire week since this happened and Joel had neglected to tell her. Y/n chose not to respond, quickly finishing up her work before bidding Maria goodnight, heading back to her shared house with Joel.

When she arrived, there was no response to her call, but Joel’s coat thrown on the back of the couch betrayed that he was home, and the soft sounds of his guitar coming from the back porch revealed his location. The strumming came to a stop as the backdoor creaked open, his eyes turning to face her with a soft smile.

“Hey, darlin’-” His peaceful expression shifted to one of worry when he took her in own sombre face, “What’s the matter–did something happen?”

She shook her head, shrugging as she leaned against the railing, “I don’t know, did something happen? Because today, when I was with Maria, she seemed awfully concerned about how you were feeling.”

Realisation dawned on his features, his brows furrowing as he moved the guitar out his lap and ran a hand over his face, “Baby, it’s nothin–”

“Don’t do that,” she scowled at him, “don’t tell me it’s nothing when it’s so clearly not nothing. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you worrying about me.”

She scoffed, “Fuck, you did a great job of doing that, didn’t you? What am I supposed to do when I hear from someone else that you had to go to the infirmary almost a week ago because you had chest pain? I mean, really, that’s not something to fuck around with, especially–”

“Especially what?” He challenged, already knowing what she was thinking.

Y/n stopped, debating whether or not she wanted to say it, “Especially at your age.”

He stood up and marched to the other side of the patio and rested his hands on the railing, looking out across the small backyard. Y/n could practically feel the emotions that radiated from him; a mixture of anger, annoyance, embarrassment, and shame. 

She sighed, moving to rest a hand on his back, “Joel, you know I don’t care about your age. I love you, but I need you to start taking care of yourself. This needs to be a wakeup call, I mean, it definitely is for me.”

“Why,” he huffed, “you finally coming to your senses? Finally realising that sooner or later I’m gonna–”

“Please don’t say it,” she whispered, sniffling softly as she rested her forehead in the middle of his back, “Please, please, please.”

Joel scowled, sliding away from her grasp, “About time you start to face reality, darlin’. I’m old, I’ve accepted it. Maybe you should wisen up and go find someone who’s not gonna leave you sooner or later, huh?”

Joel escaped into the house and out the front door, slamming it shut behind him. Y/n let out a shaky breath, moving to sit on the bench where Joel had been when she had gotten home, curling into herself and letting silent tears streak down her cheeks. It was only moments later when she heard her own name being called, Ellie creeping out onto the patio nervously.

Y/n wiped her cheeks, smiling weakly at the girl as she sat next to her, “Hey Jellybean.”

Ellie smiled at the name, having not heard it for a while now. She felt somewhat bad about that, having been a result of her requesting to be treated more like an adult, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I was just over there, so…”

Y/n smiled at the teen, curling her arm around her shoulder affectionately, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…concerned, I guess.”

She nodded, leaning against the older female, “Are you guys gonna be okay?”

Y/n smiled at the child-like question, as if she were asking her parents if they were getting a divorce–which, to be fair, she sort of was, “Yeah, baby. We’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

The uncertainty in Ellie’s voice caused her breath to catch in her throat, finally thinking over the fight. Were they okay? Maybe you should wisen up and go find someone who’s not gonna be leaving you sooner or later. Those words in themselves felt like a knife driving into her gut–was that him ending things? She had dealt with Joel’s insecurities before, but he had never blatantly told her to leave him behind, nor has he ever explicitly pointed out that he would probably die long before her. Before she could even finish her thought, her head fell forward and a loud sob escaped from her throat. 

Ellie was quick to pull her into a hug, awkwardly trying to soothe her as she wept into her shoulder. She listened to her ramble on, struggling to understand everything that she was saying, frowning to herself as she made a mental note to go after Joel the moment that she felt comfortable enough to leave Y/n to herself.

– – –

Y/n’s eyes fluttered open as she felt the mattress shift beneath her. Her foggy vision took in her side of the room, dimly lit by the lamp on her bedside table before she glanced over her shoulder, finding Joel’s back as he leaned down to untie his boots. His back cracked as he straightened up, reminding her of their fight, though she was feeling more confident that he hadn’t broken up with her considering that he had come to bed with her. 

She reached out tiredly, fingers brushing over his back as she murmured his name. He turned his head slightly to acknowledge her, but he didn’t entirely face her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice hoarse from crying, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” he sighed, finally twisting his body to sit sideways on the mattress. His own face showed signs of stress, and his eyes were rimmed with red, “I know, baby. I’m sorry too.”

Joel apologising was no small feat, that much she knew. Normally when they fought, he would give a simple you were right and do something nice for her, but it was very rare for him to actually apologise.

“It’s just…” she pushed herself to sit up, “I know you don’t like to think about this, but it’s really scary for me. I’m not stupid, I know you’re older than me and I know that there’s no stopping the inevitable–” she choked, “but I won’t apologise for trying to prolong it as much as possible.”

He dropped his head, “I know, I’m scared too. Just the thought of leaving you here all on your own…”

She crawled across the bed, smoothly working her way onto his lap and engulfing him in a tight hug. The weight of his arms around her pulled yet another sob out of her throat. His large hands found purchase on her back, sliding up and down her spine as his chest shook with his own tears. 

She pulled her head out of his neck, staring up at him with large, teary eyes. Her hand came up to cup his cheek, forcing him to meet her eyes, “Please let me help you. I’m not ashamed of you or your age, but I don’t know how I’m gonna live without you, so please tell me next time.”

He nodded, “I’m sorry. For not tellin’ you, and for being so fuckin’ old.”

“I like you older,” she snorted, fingers stroking along his furry jawline, “it means you’re still here.”

[lightseoul]

you and me? really?

synopsis. mina and kirishima invite you to a night out. they conveniently forget to tell you it’s a double date. (part 2)

cw. gn!reader, gradstudent!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~23 yrs old), mina ashido x kirishima eijirou, fluff

word count. 1.7k words

Mina whines as you drag her into the bathroom of Kozue—the first red flag you should’ve noticed (who hosts a massive group hangout at an expensive ass restaurant?!)—but you’re far too angry to pay her any mind. She winces in disdain as you finally let her wrist go.

“Where’s everyone else?!” You whisper-shout.

“Uhh.. I might’ve left out a few details about this hangout.”

You can’t believe this girl. “No shit, Sherlock,” you sigh in exasperation. “Mina, you lied to me?”

Her eyes bug out in alarm, “I didn’t! I would never lie to you, you know that. As I said, I just omitted a few details.”

“Let me guess, like the fact that aside from you, me, and Eiji, the only other person attending is Bakugou?”

She lets out a squeak. Of guilt or excitement, you can’t tell.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Wipe that grin off your face. And you know he and I don’t really get along! And people can recognize you guys and think we’re on a double date. I barely even know the guy and his PR Team will be coming for my head tomorrow morning.”

“You don’t know that! You only met him once during the end of our patrol. He just gets extra snappy when he’s tired,” she giggles. “Oh, and don’t worry about the press. The chef owes Bakugou one—he offered to clear the restaurant just for tonight.”

You can’t believe your ears. Oh, to have the power and influence of a Pro Hero.

You shake your head in (another form of) disbelief, “So you’re not gonna say anything about you roping me into a double date?”

“Nope!” she exclaims cheerfully, turning her back to exit the bathroom. You follow suit, though unlike her, you’re not done with the conversation.

“How’d you guys manage to rope him into this, anyway?” You’d keep your voice down as you weave through the exquisitely prepped tables, but true to Mina’s word, there’s no one else around except Kirishima and Bakugou, who are seated at the far corner overlooking the city.

“Eiji used the same tactic,” she sing-songs. “He got annoyed earlier when he realized his predicament, but Eiji managed to talk him into staying. Said it would be cruel to leave you as our third wheel, or something.”

You chuckle despite yourself. Mina turns to grin at you.

“Right on.”

Turns out, dinner’s not half as bad as you thought it would be.

And regarding Bakugou? Well, the jury’s still out.

You can tell he’s barely fitting into the small chair beside you—which is actually regular-sized but dwarfs in comparison to his hulking figure—visibly uncomfortable.

He’s sporting a black long-sleeve, rolled up to his forearms, and slacks in light of the semi-formal dress code—the very code you panicked over earlier upon realizing that you didn’t have anything to wear. Luckily enough, you managed to dig out a good enough LBD, and opted to dress it up with some gold accessories you’ve had since college. And now you look even more like you’re on a date: matching colors and all. Great.

Kirishima, ever trusty Kirishima, just had to talk about your awkward situation among the group. (Which was incredibly unnecessary. Why not just ignore the elephant in the room?)

“We just missed the both of you!” he exclaims, while Mina, to his left, nods vigorously in agreement. “We haven’t caught up in a while. And, we figured we could be efficient and host a hangout instead—the four of us!”

Bakugou scoffs, looking away, “You guys are such a fuckin’ married couple already, with all that ‘we’ shit ya got going on. Makes me wanna gag.”

Your eyes widen in shock at his brazenness, but you can’t help but let out a stunned laugh.

His eyes flicker to yours at the sound. You could’ve sworn you saw the corners of his lips turn upward for a second before his infamous scowl took over his face again. Could’ve been amusement, but what’s that to you, right?

Mina pouts at his comment, while Kirishima only laughs wholeheartedly. Both brush it off, though, and you chalk it up to how they’ve gotten used to Bakugou’s bluntness after almost 10 years of seeing each other grow up.

“Anyway,” Mina interjects, “as we were saying, we missed you guys and also, thought both of you could use the company!”

“Ouch..?”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You turn to address Bakugou, whose eyebrows are so furrowed deep into a scowl you’ve half a mind to press a finger against it so he wouldn’t wrinkle so early. “I think they think we’re lonely.”

You look at the lovebirds, “But thanks, though. I appreciate the thought and your inviting us out. It’s been a while since I took the time off of grad school and working part-time at Manual’s. Though,” you spare Bakugou a glance, who eyes you curiously, “I’m pretty sure he can get all sorts of company if he wanted to.”

What’s meant to be a factual observation turned into a flirtatious comment the second Mina and Kirishima lit up, both piqued with interest. Suddenly, you’re regretting all the life decisions that led you to this moment.

“Oooh, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Mina exclaims, clearly delighted, while Kirishima’s eyes flicker between the both of you, wearing a shit-eating grin.

You can’t bring yourself to look at Bakugou.

“What?” you’re exasperated at this point, “I’m just saying,” you gesture vaguely to the guy in question, “Bakugou’s objectively attractive. The three of you are!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious!” you spring to your feet, “Hell, your entire UA class is! Well, except for Mineta, I guess.”

You hear a suppressed bark of laughter to your left. Mina and Kirishima are cracking up now, too. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about getting all riled up over their teasing, you sat back down.

“I’m sure all of you have experience and can score just about anyone.” You finish your rant, glad you got to wrap it up nicely before the two could get even further with teasing you about Bakugou in front of Bakugou.

You hear him grunt in response and see him, through your periphery, look down at his fancy plate of Porcini Mushroom Velouté. Finally, someone who agrees. Though, weirdly enough, it didn’t feel as good as you thought it would..

“Sorry for teasing you, Y/N!” Kirishima laughs, albeit quite sheepishly.

Mina nods, “But really, though, we’re glad you could come. Both of you.”

“Has he texted you yet?!”

You look back at the course syllabus and mountains of textbooks stacked on your desk, and you can’t help but heave a heavy sigh, “Really? This is what you called and dragged me out of my deep work for?”

“Come on!” Mina always sounds so cheerful and perky, talking to her makes you feel like you’re not 5 seconds away from crashing and sleeping through what’s supposed to be a serious study night. “He hasn’t, has he?”

“Well,” you decide to indulge her, “No other man has texted me in the last 24 hours except my Uber driver, so I guess my answer to that is no?”

“Very funny, Y/N. Ha ha.”

You grin in amusement. Two can play at this game.

You can hear her mutter a soft curse at the other end of the line, “Damn that Bakugou! He’s sure taking his sweet old time. After all that trouble of getting him to accept your number.”

“Cut it off, Mina. You should’ve tricked someone else who could actually be a good match for him instead of me.”

“What?!” she actually sounded shocked, “I didn’t choose you because you were convenient!”

“Thanks,” you deadpanned.

“Y/N! Sure, tricking you into joining was convenient, because you are both my and Eiji’s best friend, though I don’t think I need to explain that.”

“Sure, go on.”

You can practically hear Mina roll her eyes, “FY fricken I, both Eiji and I think you and Bakugou are a great match. You’re both driven, smart, and no-nonsense individuals who think they’re too busy and grown for romance.”

“That honestly sounds like a recipe for disaster, Mina.”

“People like you think that! But trust me, once you find the one, romance doesn’t seem so bad after all!”

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumble. “The lack of texts says enough. He probably just doesn’t think I’m interesting. So cut it off, please?”

You should’ve known better than to expect Mina to let things go just like that.

“Didn’t you see how he reacted when you called him attractive? He got so embarrassed, all red in the neck and ears. Eiji and I couldn’t stop talking about it last night—we’ve rarely seen him like that.”

You huff in slight irritation (and embarrassment), “It’s because you guys wouldn’t stop teasing us. I’d be flustered too if my friends kept tormenting me like that.”

Mina cackles, “Well, you were the one that gave us classic material to work with.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No, wait!”

You sigh for the nth time in this conversation, “I was busy trying to hype you up and convince all of you of your attractiveness, thank you very much. So no, I didn’t see his reaction.”

“Yeah, that was very kind of you,” Mina exhales wistfully. “Anyway, I’d dare say he even got disappointed when you started complimenting me and Eiji too!”

You could only hear a second of her high-pitched laugh before clicking the End Call button.

Normally, hanging up on your best friend would make you feel bad, no matter how angry or annoyed you were at her.

But this? This is an emergency.

You clutch your heart, which is now hammering at an alarmingly faster pace than normal.

Fuck, you think to yourself. You cannot be crushing on Bakugou Katsuki.

Before you can spiral and go into an I-can’t-have-a-crush-much-less-on-a-pro-hero-named-Bakugou-induced panic, your phone chimes, indicating a new text message.

You bring it up to eye level, and you can’t help but gawk when you finally see the message content.

Hey, it's Bakugou.

[hurts2think]

Hi I just thought of this but could you maybe do Bridgette x fem reader? Reader is like how Evie was in d2 and making everyone’s dresses for castlecoming? She’s making Bridgette’s dress and Bridgette was originally supposed to go with Ella but since Ella is grounded she has no one to go with. Reader has a crush on her and asks her to go instead

🎀Young!Bridget Hearts x Reader🎀

Reader pronouns: She/her

Pairing: Young!Bridget Hearts x Fem!reader

Plot: Reader is making everyone's dresses for Castlecoming but isn't going herself. Afterall, the only girl she wants to go with is going with someone else. That is, until her date cancels on her last minute.

Word Count: 1.4k

Extra: I'm sorry this one feels very flat and definitely not my best writing, regardless thank you so much for your support. I get so happy to see you guys like my writing🫶🥹

Castlecoming comes only once a year but it was nothing you were too fond of. Well, except for the fact it was the time of year you made the most money.

Towards the end of Freshman year you started making dresses, suits, jackets, anything you could think of really to sell. It's been a hobby of yours for your entire life, making dresses out of curtains and safety pins, and one day you got really good at it.

It was actually your friend Bridget who suggested you should start making money off of it.

So then, on every school dance, event, or occasion that a specific person had, you were commissioned to make their dress or suit. You loved what you did and you were proud of it. But now, making all these dresses for Castlecoming made you feel a little... Sad.

Sad that no one had asked you, sad that the only girl you wanted to go with was going with someone else, and sad you'd be missing out on the biggest event of the year. Again.

You tried to put all of the aside and just focus on the dress you're making, but it was hard considering it was being worn by the girl you wished you could go with so deeply.

"Does the bodice fit you okay? Is it too tight?" You asked, adjusting the bodice from behind the pink girl to fit her.

"Oh, it's perfect." She replied, trying her best to hold still while you worked.

You didn't say anything at first, but Bridget seemed a little down. The past couple days you saw her she was practically bursting with excitment. Her best friend, Ella, had asked her to the dance and she was so excited to go. Honestly, when she told you, you wanted to be happy for her but you couldn't help but feel a little jealous.

But now you couldn't help but notice Bridget didn't seem very excited and was pretty quiet compared to her usually self.

"So, uhm, is something wrong?" You finally ask after a long silence while you still work on the little details and fixing the measurements of her dress.

Bridget shifted slightly at the question, "Yeah everything's fine." She laughed half heartedly, "It's just... Ella got grounded the other day. So we won't be able to go to Castlecoming together."

You were honestly a little surprised to hear that. What was Ella grounded for? Was Bridget still going to Castlecoming? "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that..." You say quietly, "Are you going with someone else?"

Though you couldn't see Bridget's face, you could tell she had that sad smile she does occasionally. The sad smile that could crush your heart into a million pieces, "No. But, I figured I should go anyway. I did already pay for the dress, right?" She laughed awkwardly.

For another moment you stayed silent.

You knew Ella and Bridget were only going to the dance together as friends, so maybe you did have a chance with Bridget. But she seemed so sad, it felt like maybe it wasn't the right time to ask her. You would feel like an awful person if you tried using her misfortune for your own sake. "So there's... No one else you'd want to go with?"

Bridget sighed, "Well you and Ella are my only friends... And you already said you weren't going. So not really..."

"Uhm. I said that?" You laughed nervously, knowing full well you did in fact tell her you weren't going.

She looked over her bare shoulder to look at you in the face, "Yeah. You said dances weren't your style and that you wanted to focus on making everyone's outfits."

You glance away from her before clearing your throat, "That does sound like something I probably said..." You trailed off, "But ... Maybe I changed my mind." You say bashfully, only glancing in Bridget's direction.

Her face suddenly lit up and she spun around so her whole body was facing you, "Oh my gosh! You're going? Did someone ask you out? Who was it?" Her whole attitude suddenly changed, basically bursting at the seams with happiness for you.

You felt your face heat up a little embarrassment, "No—! No! No one asked me... I just thought uhm, maybe it would be fun."

Bridget smiled brightly and took your hand that wasn't currently holding a needle and thread, "We should totally go together then! If you have no one to go with, and I have no one to go with, it works perfectly." She giggles, spinning herself under your arm, careful to not mess up her dress.

You felt your face heat up at the declaration and her sudden action, "Oh, uhm,"

"And we can take tons of pictures with my new camera, it'll be so fun! I heard it's just as fun to go with friends than with a date." She continued with her glowing smile.

That smile made your heart beat faster. You slowly let go of her hand, "About that, Bridget..." You start, unsure of what the right words were.

Her expression suddenly turned to concern. "Oh! Do you not want to? I'm sorry, it's okay if you don't want to go together." She reassured, though she definitely looked disappointed.

"No no! It's not that! I do want to go with you, I really do," you say, your heart beating a little faster at the thought of what you wanted to say.

You never felt so nervous before. Asking one of your best friends to a dance in a not-so-friendly way was a little terrifying. You didn't want to ruin the wonderful friendship you had with her in case things turned wrong.

"Then what is it..?" She asked, her tone was so soft. She was always so soft and sweet. She felt like a bouquet of pink flowers with pedals that feel like silk.

You take a deep breath and look her in the eye, "I was just hoping maybe... We could go as... More than friends...?" You finally asked, feeling like you were about to collapse from the anxiety of it.

Bridget's eyes suddenly widened in surprise, "Wait, wait... Really?"

You averted your eyes away, still incredibly embarrassed and just nodded your head without a word.

Bridget suddenly squealed in excitement, and threw her arms around you, "I would love to!"

The hug caught you off guard but you smiled and hugged her back. She hugged you tighter, making it hard for you to breathe and also worry that she would tear her unfinished dress, "Bridget! The dress!" You warn.

She let go of you, "Sorry sorry, I guess I just got excited," she giggled before grabbing your hand again with both of hers, "I'm so happy you asked me."

You smiled and looked at her with such admiration in your eyes, "Well... Let's get this dress done before we run of our of time." You chuckle, smoothing out her dress that got wrinkled from the intense hug.

Bridget laughed, "Yeah. That's probably a good idea. Thank you." She said, leaning forward and kissing you on the cheek, making your face burn again.

"You're the one paying me for the dress..." You laugh softly.

"That's not what I meant." Bridget fidgeted with your hand that was intertwined with yours, "Thank you for asking me. You really are wonderful. If I were to go with anyone to the dance as more than friends, I'm glad it's you."

All of this talk was making you flustered to the break of explosion. Bridget really was the sweetest girl in the world. It was hard to believe she even remotely felt the same way about you, "I guess it's just easy for me to recognize how amazing someone can be." You smile widely.

Bridget giggled yet again, "Maybe after Castlecoming, if you don't decide that you regret asking me, we could maybe be more than friends? Like, girlfriends?" She asked with a bashful smile, her own face turning slightly pink.

You nodded quickly, "I'd really love that." You could never regret this decision. Bridget was so amazing and perfect in every way, how could you ever not want to be her girlfriend?

You couldn't wait to dance with her. You couldn't wait to see her in the finished dress with her hair done and looking beautiful as ever. You couldn't wait to spin her around and watch the sparkly pink hearts on her dress glimmer in the lights. You couldn't wait to hold her after the dance and just giggle to each other all night long.

[st4rgzer]

THE FIRST TIME matt sturniolo

summary: you come to terms with the use of pet names, finally

genre: fluff

cw!: just kissing

a/n: I have to stop writing fics when I have to go to sleep.

“some part of me came alive, the first time that you called me baby”

I was never really fond of pet names, in fact, every time I heard someone call their partner “bunny” or “baby” i physically felt repulsed, the feeling of intimacy being a cursed subject to me. They never rolled off my tongue as smoothly as others would do so, maybe cause I never heard them much growing up.

My head was placed between his collarbone and his stomach, laid down on the sofa watching as Matt scrolled down his fyp, quietly observing fondly. I rarely craved affection, or asking for it. But with Matt it was kind of like second nature, his hand fit so comfortably in mine, my head in the crook of his neck, like the missing puzzles to a jigsaw I had so yearningly wanted to complete for an eternity.

His hand stroked my hair gently, easing the tension I had built up throughout the busy, busy day i’d had. I hummed peacefully, fluttering my eyes closed, as his fingers treaded lightly against my scalp.

When suddenly he stopped doing so.

“baby why’d you stop?” I mumbled with my eyes half lidded. He looked at me surprised, wide eyed.

“did you just call me baby?” He laughed slightly, sitting up straighter.

“maybe?” I questioned, wincing at the realization that the word “baby” the word I had scribbled out of every romance book cause it killed the mood every time. Had just ever so easily rolled off my tongue, as if i’d said it 100 times prior.

He grinned at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, squeezing it slightly, and brushing his nose against my neck before placing a sweet, lingering kiss on my cheek. I was relieved he passed on the subject discreetly instead of having to discuss it like it was a big thing, but weirdly, the pet name hadn’t felt weird coming out my mouth, in fact, it felt natural. Strange how one person can change so much your opinions on vast things, even when you’re so keenly set on it.

“Matt?” He hummed softly. “I think I liked calling you “baby”” I said, stuttering slightly before the last word.

“yeah?” He asked, enthusiastic about me coming to terms with something he loved so dearly. He’d do it way too often, regularly using “baby”, “darling”, “babe” more than my own name, I didn’t complain, it felt right coming from me, it was sweet.

I smiled at my accomplishment to actually be able to do so as well, I loved him, and I wanted to express it with little words too.

a/n: i realized it sounds like that “omg did you call me baby? maybe, is that ok?” song. Also i apologize for this. It’s 11pm.

taglist: @gabbylovesreading @dwntwn-strnlo @oneirophobic @iha8you @lovelysturniolo @lvrsparadise @ifilwtmfc @stvrni0lo @ssturniolo @strniolo

[bananayuyu]

Cabin Fever [part 3]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut (and some angst this chapter)

Word count: 12.2k

Summary: A confrontation, a fainting spell, a jealous Yunho and a weirdly pissy Hongjoong. The morning gets off to a rough start but somehow the day couldn't have ended more perfectly.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, mentions of Hongjoong's family being homophobic/transphobic, vaginal sex, cream pie, unprotected sex (it's safe, you'll see)

A/n: Part 3 is finally here! The biggest shoutout in the world to @mingtinysworld, my absolute bestie (I love you so much!!<3). I must give her credit for coming up with several of the things that happen in this chapter. Things get a bit more angsty this chapter but I hope not too much. (Also I refer to Wooyoung as both bisexual and a slut in this chapter but want to clarify that I'm not trying to play into that stereotype!! it's just two things that felt fitting for the character in this story. bi people are no more or less likely to be slutty than anyone else). this chapter took longer than I expected to finish because I've finally mapped out what I want to do for the rest of the series! I hope you all enjoy this part! <3

Linked here is my masterlist where you can find the previous parts. Again let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! (it will be six parts in total if everything goes to plan)

Taglist: @certifiedmoa @pautiny27 @luvbit3z @dawn-iscozy @artistic-rendition

@yeosangiess @drinkingrumandcocacola @smally97 @kierraperkins3 @newworldwritings

@peachyy-jooniee @lucid-galaxys-world

You wake like your first morning in the cabin to the bright hot sun, the storm having moved out of the area overnight. You feel too warm laying in your bed with Yunho wrapped around you; you look down and see you both kicked off your blanket at some point in the night. You roll over to wriggle free, your skin feeling sticky with sweat and your hair feeling matted and knotty. You know the reflection you'll be greeted with in the mirror will be quite a mess.

"Morning," Yunho yawns, stretching his arms above his head, his bare abdomen looking so enticing even first thing in the morning.

"I'm so sweaty," you laugh, yawning as well.

"I know, me too," he says, turning his head to the side to get a whiff of his own underarm. "Oh, god," he says, making you giggle. Leaning over to get a whiff yourself, you stick your nose right into the small patch of hair.

"Mmm, so good," you say, a smile on your face. "I need to bottle that scent."

"What would you call it?" Yunho chuckles, pulling you close to him despite the heat.

"Hmm, something like, tall man with large hands." You laugh at how dumb and simple your response is.

"Mm, with notes of sex god and a handsome face," Yunho replies, a cocky grin on his face. You roll your eyes, but truthfully deep down you find it kind of hot when he gets that way.

"No, with notes of gamer nerd and 'never eats vegetables' actually," you say, teasing him. He reaches down to your side to tickle you, making you shriek with laughter, before climbing on top of you and kissing you, deeply. Immediately it's heated, like he's trying to remind you of everything from the night before, his hips bucking into yours slightly and the pressure on your core feeling so enticingly good.

With a ragged breath you break the kiss, your head feeling fuzzy.

"I'm too hot," you say, half-heartedly pushing him off you, not really wanting it to stop.

"Yeah, I know," Yunho says, his tone again cocky, his mouth moving down to your neck and hands grabbing at your ass and thighs. You giggle and sigh into his movements, feeling yourself already getting wet, your body already craving him. But you also feel so out of it and hungry, and you think of everyone else up and about; Seonghwa will probably be worried again if you stay in here too long.

"Yunhooo," you whine, pushing him off with a little more force, and he relents, kissing your nose as he moves off of you.

"I wanna eat you," he says, his face flushed with lust. You squeal and cover your face in embarrassment; no one has ever said something like that to you in your life. Yunho smiles at your reaction, absolutely loving the effect he has on you. Whenever he makes you smile, laugh, moan, it makes his chest feel full, like he's doing exactly what he's meant to do with his life.

Finally the two of you stumble out of bed, and you rake your fingers through your hair, trying your best to smooth it out. Your hairbrush is in the bathroom and you feel like you could really use a shower, so you decide you'll do that first thing this morning, right after getting some food in you. The two of you head out the door together, not thinking much, Yunho's hoodie the only article of clothing you have on. You rub your tired eyes, your body still feeling weak, but your cramps not present like they had been. You feel ready for the day, hopeful that your body will finally feel okay.

As soon as you enter the living room, you notice everyone's eyes on you. You halt in your tracks; everyone is acting strange and you can sense a bit of tension in the room immediately.

"What's going on?" you ask, your voice a bit groggy, your brain still not totally awake. The room is silent for a moment; you feel Yunho's hand on your shoulder grip you ever so slightly.

"I think everyone needs to talk to you both," Seonghwa says, finally breaking the silence. You turn in his direction, confusion clear on your face. It wasn't like last year when Hongjoong and Seonghwa hooked up, everyone confronted them about it. You knew it was probably pretty obvious what was happening, but you didn't think everyone needed an explanation. Not right now, at least. You turned towards Ari, looking at her with concern.

"I don't have anything I need to say," she says to the room, clearly trying to communicate to you that she didn't share anything, nor does she see the need for this. Her eyes almost seem to be pleading with everyone, to drop the subject, or maybe she just looks worried. Whatever it is, her look sets you on edge, and you step away from Yunho without realizing it, your body instinctually trying to isolate itself.

"Can I not get something to eat first? What is going on?" you ask, trying not to panic. Again everyone is silent for a second, and some of their faces look stony; you're worried that there isn't something you're understanding. "Fucking hell, just say it, please," you beg.

"Did you realize how loud you two were being last night?" Hongjoong finally spits out, making your stomach drop.

"Oh, fuck," you groan into your hands, wishing the floor could open up and sallow you whole.

"Woah, woah. Why the hell are you saying this in front of everyone?" Yunho responds to him, not doing a good job of controlling the anger in his tone.

"Because everyone heard you last night, not just me," Hongjoong shoots back, clearly pissed at Yunho's tone.

"Ari just said she has nothing to say about this," Yunho retorts, his eyes narrowing.

"Okay let me clarify then, every one of us who has to sleep out here on these couches, while the two of you get a private space all to yourselves, we all heard you guys last night." Hongjoong's volume is rising, and you don't know why he's so pissed. But you feel mortified, so shocked this conversation is even happening. "I know it is possible to hook up in this cabin without making everyone hear it," he says.

You've physically turned yourself away from the room, wanting to inch your way into the kitchen but feeling stuck to the floor.

"This is so ridiculous, why are you acting like you've never heard people having sex before? It couldn't have been that fucking loud," Yunho sighs loudly, shocked himself that any one of your friends would even care. You all were very, very comfortable around each other. He knew Hongjoong was one of the more modest of the bunch, but still. He was fucking Seonghwa out in the middle of the forest last night, for god's sake.

"It was, pretty loud," Mingi sighs, his voice much calmer and quieter than Hongjoong's but still laced with tension, as if he's trying to bring the conversation back to normal. "Like someone was watching porn on their phone at full volume, or something." He laughs, obviously trying to lighten the mood, but it doesn't work.

"Oh god, please, stop," you finally find words, running to the kitchen. Ari jumps up and runs after you, wrapping her arms around you as you bury your head into your hands even further.

"Don't say shit like that right now, it's not funny," Yunho says, his face flushed with anger.

"Sorry I was just trying to- I don't know why this got so weird," Mingi replies, stumbling over his words. "I just thought you guys would want to know how audible it was."

"Listen, I'm fucking sorry. I obviously didn't realize, I obviously wasn't wanting you all to hear," you say from the kitchen, shaking with how embarrassed you feel. Ari rubs your back, trying to comfort you.

"Look at how awful you've made her feel. Do you guys feel good about that?" Yunho spits out, his words fiery. Something in you shatters at how protective he's being, and you suddenly gag with nausea, running over to the sink.

"Yunho, no one is trying to hurt her feelings," Seonghwa replies, trying in desperation to keep the conversation from spiraling into a full blown fight.

"What are you trying to do then?" Yunho asks, eyes scanning around the room to catch a glimpse of everyone's faces.

"I think what everyone was trying to say, though they didn't do a very good job I will admit, was that you two being so loud last night made them a bit uncomfortable and made it hard to sleep. And-"

"It made me horny, that's why I couldn't sleep," Wooyoung cuts him off.

"For fucks sake Woo, not now," Seonghwa replies, still managing to keep his tone light. "I think everyone really just wanted to ask you two if you could keep it down going forward. That's all," he finishes, shooting a look in Hongjoong's direction that seemed to say a million things.

"And that couldn't have been said to me privately, by like, one person?" you ask from the kitchen, trying to keep your body from releasing all of yesterday's food.

"I'm sorry honey, everyone was talking about it this morning and I thought it would be better for it just to be out in the open," Seonghwa says to you, like he's taking responsibility for it.

"Everyone was talking about it, how great," you reply, your tone laced with sarcasm.

"You all are being so fucking immature," Yunho continues, his anger still evident.

"Yunho, it's not like we were all giggling about it like twelve years olds or something. But you guys were having loud sex, you really expect that none of us would to mention it to each other this morning?" Wooyoung replies. "My cousins are here, and they don't really know you guys like we do, you know?"

"I get that Woo, and I'm sorry Jongho and Yeosang if it made you guys uncomfortable," he says, looking sincerely in their direction. "But again, why did you all have to confront us like this first thing in the morning?! When you know how awful she's been feeling! This whole conversation did not have to happen this way at all!" He is almost yelling, more worked up than you've seen him in a long time. You feel thankful he's standing up for you, as it seems he's the only man in the room who understands how mortified you feel. But his raised voice and tone are starting to set everyone on edge, you can feel it, and you really, really don't want this conversation to get even worse.

"I'm going to bathroom," you mutter, quickly walking yourself over and closing the door tightly behind you. In the mirror over the sink you finally get a good look at yourself, your messy appearance matching exactly how you feel on the inside. You hair is as knotty as you thought it would be, and you start trying to brush it out, wincing every time you tug a little too hard. You feel yourself start to heave again, so you lean down over the toilet in case anything comes up. The smallest amount of puke leaves your lips and you grimace at the bitter taste, quickly shuffling over to the sink to rinse out your mouth. Sat on your knees on the floor you breath deeply, the nausea having passed now that you're in a room by yourself, blocking out the argument happening outside. You're just starting to think you're feeling better, about to stand up, when everything goes black.

For a brief moment you feel yourself crumple to the floor, the tile cold against your uncovered legs. But then you're fully gone, not hearing or knowing anything.

"Y/n, can you hear me? Are you here?"

You wake to Yunho crouched over you, a hand on your wrist checking your pulse. Your eyes barely open, the light of the room making your head hurt. You try to say something to him but you can't; only a pathetic whimper leaves your lips as you try to wake yourself.

"I'm here," he says, stroking a hand through your hair and rubbing the back of your head where it meets your neck. You've told him many times that it feels good to be rubbed there, especially when you've just fainted, so now he makes sure he does it every time. He sits with you in silence, just like you've asked him to, waiting for your body to fully regain consciousness. It takes a little while but finally you move, opening your eyes more to meet his, curling up your body in his direction.

"How'd it happen?" he asks.

"I like, puked, and then I felt better, but then I ended up here, I don't know," you say, trying to remember everything that had happened before your memory cut out.

"So you were standing?" he asks, very concerned.

"No I was like, on my knees cause of leaning over the toilet to puke. I just closed my eyes to breathe for a second and then I collapsed."

"Did you hit your head?"

"I don't think so," you respond, looking up at him with teary eyes. He looks down and assesses your pupils, pretty sure they look normal in the light of the bathroom. He runs a hand through your hair, trying to keep his breathing normal. But his heart is racing out of control, his panic not subsiding. Not when he found you collapsed in a heap on the floor, minutes after he finished arguing with everyone else. A piercing anger runs through his chest, anger at how everyone acted this morning. It must have made you unbelievably stressed, being called out like that and humiliated in front of everyone. It's probably the reason you're here on the floor now, why your body just gave out on you. His breathing is ragged as he stares at you, as much as he tries to appear calm for your sake. It just can't happen right now, not after everything that happened this morning.

"Yunho, I'll be fine," you say, putting a hand on his thigh.

"I know," he responds, his throat tense, his eyes looking panicked.

"You're scaring me," you tell him, tears forming in your eyes.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. With everything that just happened I was so caught off guard finding you here. I'm so worried about you," he says, tears forming in his eyes as well.

"It'll be okay, I just need to rest," you say, repeating something you've said probably thousands of times in your life, to people around you when you're sick. How common it was for other people to be even more panicked than you, when you were the one actually experiencing the issue. Yunho can read the frustration in your tone easily, and it feels like a stab in his chest knowing that he isn't helping you how he knows he should.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he says, collecting himself and stroking the back of your head again, hoping it's comforting. "Do you want me to carry you to your bed?" he asks.

"Can you please go get Hwa," you ask, not able to hide your frustration with him.

"Of course," he says, sounding almost defeated, and even though you asked for it, it hurts when he moves away from you to go get your other friend. In the few moments that you're alone again you start crying, tears streaming down onto the floor, your body finally starting to release some of it's tension.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry I didn't realize you had passed out," Seonghwa says as soon as he enters, leaning down to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

"It's okay," you squeak, still crying.

"Why don't I get you to a couch so you can rest more comfortably?" he asks, stroking a hand through your hair. "I can brush out your hair too, if you want."

"It's so bad," you say, groaning.

"Not at all," he says, positioning you to hoist you up, finally standing and walking carefully so he doesn't hit any part of you on the doorframe.

As soon as you exit the bathroom you can hear the arguing, and it makes you grab your ears, wishing you could silence everyone.

"You realize that wouldn't have happened if you didn't talk to her like assholes this morning, right?!" you hear Yunho say, again on the verge of yelling.

"How was I supposed to know she was going to faint!?" Hongjoong retorts, sounding exasperated. "I obviously didn't want that to happen Yunho, Jesus Christ!"

"Dude, you know how fragile her body is! And that she's been feeling terribly the past few days; you probably could have predicted this would be the outcome, honestly," Yunho says, refusing to back down.

"Yunho that's a crazy thing to say," Mingi interjects, sounding almost scared to speak up. "Obviously none of us wanted to cause her to faint."

"Frankly, the way things sounded last night it seemed like she was feeling better," Hongjoong interjects, still on edge.

"Stop mentioning it, it's been talked about enough," Yunho snaps, his voice lower but his anger still obviously at a boiling point. The look he shoots Hongjoong is stern, scarier than he realizes.

"You're the one who came in here yelling," Hongjoong responds, arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm not yelling. I'm pissed at you all because you made her faint," Yunho says, voice still low.

"Will you all please get off of this couch so I can set y/n down?" Seonghwa cuts them off, taking in a slow deep breath. He sets you down gently, placing several pillows behind your back and head to prop you up, grabbing his glass of water from the morning and making you drink some. When Yunho sees the absolute state you are in his anger spikes again; he's seen you like this quite a few times, but never under these circumstances. You'd always been home, close to the local hospital, in your predictable environment. Here it was different, especially with so many people around. He feels utterly out of his depth, but something in him still needs to care for you.

Sitting down next to you he grabs your hand, brushing his thumb along your palm in small circular motions. He wants to apologize a thousand times over, wants to scream at everyone else, especially Hongjoong, and wants to ask how you're feeling. But he doesn't know if any of that is the right thing to do. He suddenly feels a pang of jealousy, at seeing the way Seonghwa methodically takes care of you, seeming to know exactly what to say and what to do, in every moment.

"Yunho, you're freaking her out," Seonghwa says, moving over to help you drink more water. He takes your hand out of Yunho's, helping you grip the glass, making sure you don't spill on yourself. "If you can't keep calm right now then you need to leave the room."

"How- how am I supposed to keep calm right now?" Yunho asks, his voice shaking.

"I don't know, do whatever helps you. You know, for some people breathing calmly helps, others visualize certain things, others need to cry for a bit, maybe go for a quick run. Whatever works for you," Seonghwa says, feeling frustrated with Yunho but not letting it show.

"I don't want to leave her," Yunho says.

"She'll be perfectly fine in my care, don't you think?" Seonghwa responds, trying not to sound patronizing. Trying really to get Yunho to realize himself that he should take a step back, and give you space. He can tell it's not doing you any good, the way Yunho is acting. Even if it's coming from a good place.

"I don't want all of them near her," Yunho says, gesturing his head in the direction of the other boys.

"It's not like they're going to hurt her Yunho," Seonghwa replies, still helping you sip at your water. Yunho looks at Seonghwa, wanting to believe him. Logically he knows it's true, but he really does worry that something one of them says could make you faint again.

"God I'm so fucking pissed," Yunho sighs out, putting his head in his hands.

"Yunho, stop," you say, your voice almost a whisper as you try not to start crying again.

"Ok, that's it, you need to get out of here," Seonghwa finally says to Yunho, placing his hand on his knee to get his full attention. Yunho shoots him a hurt look, feeling a bit caught off guard. Seonghwa's never told him something like this before, when you were sick. Usually he appreciated having another person there to help. He slowly stands up, walking towards the kitchen to get away.

"Dude, lighten up," Mingi says, slapping Yunho gently on the back in a gesture of attempted kindness. But it doesn't go over how he's hoping.

"Dude, shut the fuck up," Yunho says, making you cringe into yourself. It really does feel like he's coming apart at the seams, and it makes you feel so panicked.

"Alright, fuck, everyone listen to me," Seonghwa says, standing up to face the room. "Look I really don't like having to do this, having to treat you all like you're fucking children, but clearly all of you don't understand how to emotionally take care of yourselves, and your dramatics are making our very sick friend feel even worse. So here's what we're going to do. All of you boys are going to go outside, and finish that game of basketball we started yesterday. With the exception of Wooyoung, because I need you and Ari to stay in and assist me. The rest of you please, go outside and work out your fucking differences on that court, and come back inside in much better spirits and aware of your fucking impact on other people. Okay?" He finishes talking with an expectant look, and everyone knows he won't take no for an answer. Soon they're all shuffling outside, and once they're all gone and the back door is shut, you immediately feel a bit better. The energy of the room is immediately lighter, and you take a big sigh of relief, readjusting yourself to get comfortable.

"Thank you Hwa," you say, finishing the glass of water in your hands.

"Of course. I'm sorry they were all acting like that, I hope I didn't stress you out too," he responds, his voice so gentle again.

"I don't even think that's why I fainted, I know Yunho kept saying that but it's probably just cause my period was so bad. I feel like that's a more logical explanation," you say, the quieter room allowing your brain to finally work a bit more.

"I know, I agree. I've never seen him so scared," Seonghwa says, rubbing his hand along your arm.

"Me too, it was freaking me out," you say, turning to look him in the eye. "Just so you know, we aren't like dating or something. This whole, thing, between me and Yunho, it just started on this trip. And I don't even know what it is. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to talk to you about it yesterday." It feels good to finally get the words out.

"You don't have to apologize. I was pretty sure nothing had happened before, cause I know you would've told me. Believe me, I know the affects this cabin can have on people," he chuckles, making you smile. "By the way, I'm sorry for how Hongjoong was talking to you earlier, genuinely. I don't think it's wrong for him to feel uncomfortable, if that's really what the issue was, but he was being kind of an asshole." Seonghwa looks crestfallen, like he's embarrassed to be apologizing on behalf of Hongjoong.

"You don't have to apologize for him, Hwa. Just because you two are kind of, involved or whatever, doesn't mean you need to do that." Seonghwa nods his head at your words, but his face doesn't change, and it looks like he's lost in thought. "What's going on, why does your face look like that?" you ask.

"Just, I don't know why he was being like that with you two, everyone was talking about it in a funny way this morning. I guess he was being weird all morning, even before you guys came out here. I'll tell you in a minute, just, hold on." He turns his attention to the other two sitting on the couch across, giving you space. "Wooyoung can you please make some quick soup for y/n, something salty with meat and vegetables. And also some chamomile tea please, with a teaspoon of honey?"

"Of course, coming right up," Wooyoung says, climbing off the couch. "Y/n I'm sorry about this morning, I thought it would be just a little joke. I didn't realize it would get so, serious," he says as he crosses the room.

"Thank you, Woo. I'm sorry if your cousins felt weird," you reply, them truly being the people you worried you'd crossed a line with. The rest of you had heard the odd sound or two and talked about sex at length over the years you'd known each other, but those two didn't know you at all.

"Oh, I don't really think they cared, we were all laughing about it last night. I just, I was a little surprised Yunho was so pissed that we were talking about it. I hope- I hope you know we weren't being weird or gross," he replies.

"I know, it is just a bit mortifying though, you have to understand," you say.

"I know, I'm sorry. We will forget it even happened, we'll have a fun day," Woo says, starting to work on your tea, raising his voice so he can be heard from the kitchen. "What do you want to do, after you eat?" he asks.

"Y/n, you wanna put makeup on them? We haven't done that in forever," Ari pipes up from the other couch, her voice also gentle like Seonghwa's.

"Ooh, that actually sounds so fun. If you both are down?" you ask Seonghwa and Wooyoung, giving Seonghwa your best puppy-dog eyes.

"How could I say no," Seonghwa replies, smiling.

"That sounds fun!" Wooyoung replies from the kitchen, busily readying your tea and prepping for cooking.

"That'll be good," you say, breathing in the relief of their good, calm company. "Thank you guys for being, like, normal this morning."

***

After you drink your tea and eat your breakfast, you start to feel a little better. You're clearly still in a weak state, needing to stay sat on the couch, but you have the energy to talk with everyone. Ari had gone and grabbed her large makeup bag from her room, setting out everything methodically on the large coffee table. Everything is organized by product type, and you both begin looking over everything, deciding what you'll be doing.

"Woo, can I put eyeliner on you?" Ari asks.

"Sure, do whatever," Wooyoung responds, honestly just loving the attention. He's always loved when you two would do his makeup, just for the simple fact that he got to spend so much time having someone else fret over him.

"I'm gonna make you look so cool," Ari says, grabbing the shade of foundation she was going to use, and the eyeliner and black eye shadow.

"Okay well if you're doing that, I'm gonna make Hwa like, super feminine, pretty, pink," you say, grabbing your favorite highlighter and the shade of pink lip gloss you think will look perfect on him. "Wait, can I do your hair too?" you ask Hwa.

"What are you going to do?" he asks you. You know he's very protective of his hair, especially since he's been growing it out so long this past year.

"I just want to put it in pigtails or something, not use any heat on it," you say.

"Okay, that's fine," he says, positioning himself in front of you so you can start applying the makeup.

As you both begin the room falls into a comfortable quietness, with only a few words being exchanged here or there. Mostly it's just you and Ari asking each other how a certain thing looks, or asking each other for advice. Having something to focus on that is purely fun, purely creative helps get your mind off your terrible morning, and soon you feel yourself really start to feel better. A little while later one of the boys pokes their head in asking about lunch, but Seonghwa makes them stay outside, asking Wooyoung to whip together something quick and just bring it out to them. He wants to prolong this gentle calm atmosphere for as long as he can, so that you can truly rest up and feel better. And he himself feels relieved from not having to be in the same room as Hongjoong.

"Wait, you were going to tell me something about Hongjoong," you say to him as you gently apply his highlight.

"Oh, yeah, that," Seonghwa sighs.

"What is it?" you ask, looking at him with concern.

"He's just been really distant and cold, all morning. And yesterday things were like, so good, we were having all these conversations, we talked about some very personal things. Each night he's been cuddling me to sleep, like specifically asking me to come cuddle with him. I didn't expect that sort of thing when we came here, but he's been so touchy and so sweet, and then suddenly this morning he was like avoiding me, not sitting next to me, not talking to me. And he was being so weird talking with Yunho this morning too, both of them were in such weird moods. I don't know what to think. I shouldn't like someone who is hot and cold with me, I know I shouldn't. But something, yesterday, there was something that happened that felt almost perfect and I can't get it out of my head."

"I don't like that he was being like that with you this morning," you sigh. "I don't get why he gets that way sometimes."

"It's cause of his family, right?" Ari asks, carefully starting to apply Wooyoung's eyeliner.

"I know they're insane and homophobic, but he's twenty-seven. Maybe I'm being unfair, but he's been independent from them for nearly a decade. And they don't even live in the same city as us anymore. I just feel upset that he hasn't worked on changing more. That was how he was in high school. And he knows all of us, especially Seonghwa, are going to love and respect him always. I know his defense mechanism with his family is to shut himself off from them, but why does he have to be that way with us still?" you say.

"He's clearly all messed up about something," Seonghwa replies, sighing. "I actually thought he'd changed a lot. You know last year after our trip, I was worried he'd be really awkward and avoid the subject with me, but when we spoke about what had happened between us he was very direct and open. He seemed like he was able to really talk about his feelings. So I thought he had finally changed."

"I'm sorry, my inability to keep things quiet last night might have contributed. I truly feel bad, I did not realize," you say.

"Your moans did not put him in a bad mood," Seonghwa laughed, grabbing your cheek reassuringly. "He was fine last night. It was a this morning thing. Who knows."

You nod, not really wanting to talk about it anymore. And it seems Seonghwa doesn't either, nor do the other two, because the subject is dropped. You finally put on the pink lip gloss, the final touch to your beautiful masterpiece. Seonghwa's full lips shine beautifully, his entire face perfection.

"You've got to do more makeup campaigns," you say, staring in awe.

"I know, that first one I did all those years ago was so fun," he says, reminiscing.

"Can I do your hair now?" you ask, giddy. Seonghwa turns himself around, grabbing two small hair ties off the table for you to use. Once you've placed the two hair ties just as you want them you turn him around, taking a look at the adorable pigtails.

"God, you look so good with your hair like that. You are like, the most androgynous person I've ever seen," you say, knowing it's a compliment he loves.

"Do I look pretty?" he asks, twirling for you.

"The prettiest," you say, smiling. Suddenly, an idea pops into your head. "Hwa, you should put on the sun dress I brought with me."

"You think it'll fit?" he asks.

"Oh yeah, it's like stretchy in the back. I think you've worn it before, it's that yellow one, with the pink flowers," you say. "It's in the bottom of my suitcase, if you want to go grab it."

Seonghwa never turns down an opportunity to wear your dresses or skirts, always having loved how he felt in them. As he goes to find your dress in the library you turn to Wooyoung and Ari, who are almost done themselves. Ari is putting the finishing touches on the smoky shadow that accompanies heavy eyeliner, the obvious star of the show.

"This is some of your best work," you say, amazed. A part of you is almost pissed that these two boys look way better in makeup than you do. But more than anything you feel lucky to have people so willing to let the two of you experiment.

"Do I look sexy?" Wooyoung asks, fluttering his eyes at the both of you. It's basically all he ever wants to be called, so you both giggle.

"Of course you do," Ari says, laughing at him.

Just then Seonghwa reenters the room, your dress the only piece of clothing he's now wearing.

"Stop, you look so freaking cute," you say, staring at him in awe.

"Hwa, you should start wearing your hair like that all the time. It looks so good," Ari adds.

"Woo, what do you think?" Seonghwa says, looking at him expectantly.

"Um well, sorry, but you look extremely fuckable," he says, making you all burst into laughter. "You look really pretty," he says, his cheeks looking a little pink even under his makeup.

"Oh, so you're horny again," Ari says, to more laughter.

"I can't help it, it feels like everyone in this damn cabin is fucking except for me," Wooyoung responds.

"You know, there are ways of relieving those pent up feelings yourself," you say, motioning to your hand.

"It's not the same," he grumbles, making you all giggle again.

"Woo it's barely been four days on this cabin trip, are you already that desperate to have sex with someone?" Seonghwa asks, coming to sit down next to you again.

"Oh god don't chastise him, it'll probably turn him on more," Ari says, smirking at Wooyoung. He visibly squirms in front of her, not able to sit still anymore with the current topic of conversation.

"Every friend group needs a bisexual, bratty slut I guess," Seonghwa says, and the room is erupting in laughter again, even from Wooyoung.

"I don't think I'm the only slut in this group," Wooyoung says, shooting you a look.

"Ok woah, I might be very sex positive but I am not a slut, Woo. I've slept with maybe one percent of the number of people you have," you respond, looking at him with mock exasperation.

"But y/n, being slutty is really just a state of mind, it's not about the actual number of people you've slept with. And it seems like a certain someone has turned you into one recently," he says, making your mouth fall open. "I'm not trying to be mean, I swear," he says in reaction to your face. "I'm just glad you two are finally fucking," he says with his full chest, making Seonghwa and Ari laugh hard.

"Ok, so, you're saying you've been wanting this to happen?" you say, laughing and holding out your hands in confusion.

"Well, that man certainly has wanted it to, and I thought maybe you did too, but I was starting to wonder if I was wrong. I was always fascinated, it was like my own little experiment, watching to see just how long two people who obviously found each other attractive would hold out. I was especially shocked that it didn't happen when you moved into together," he says, eyeing you with adoration more than anything, which helps you not feel so exposed by his words. "I know not everyone is as much of a horn dog as I am, but it's not like either of you are asexual, either. I knew it would happen someday," he finishes.

"How did like, everyone else know this was gonna happen before I did?" you ask, remembering Ari's insistence yesterday that he was in love with you, and also remembering Mingi's look in the hot spring your first night. Fuck, he knew too, you thought. Did everyone else know?

"You wouldn't be you if this had happened any other way," Seonghwa says, grabbing your hand.

"I know, I'm kind of oblivious," you say, turning towards him with a downturned smile.

"Only to how magnetic you are to certain people. You've never been able to tell when someone likes you," he says, squeezing your hand slightly. It makes you laugh because it's true, very true.

"My mind is usually elsewhere," you say, making him chuckle.

"I know," he says, and he truly means it. He knows all of the places your mind usually is, good and bad.

"What time is it?" you ask, feeling your stomach rumble.

"Should we let everyone back in?" Seonghwa asks.

"Yeah, I think they should be okay by now. And I'm hungry, I wanna have some dinner," you say. "I feel a lot better, thank you guys," you say giving them each a quick hug before settling yourself back down on the couch. "I think my period is basically over."

"Already? It's been like two days, right?" Ari asks.

"Yeah, sometimes if they're that heavy it's all over that quickly," you say.

"I'm glad it's over," Hwa says, before handing you another glass of water he'd just filled. You sip at it, watching as he walks to the back door to open it, his long lean legs looking gorgeous under your dress. "You all can come back in now, if you want," you hear him say.

As the boys slowly make their way back inside you see they're all sweaty, the sun hot and the air humid from the previous day's weather. Most of them do a bit of a double take at Seonghwa's appearance, and at Wooyoung's too.

"Looks like you all had fun in here," Yeosang says, smiling at Wooyoung.

"How was the game?" Woo asks him.

"It was good, felt good to run so hard. We won," he says, with a proud smile.

"Well you had Yunho and Mingi on your team, so it wasn't exactly fair," Woo responds, making Yeosang laugh.

The two tallest men are the last to reenter, their faces glistening in sweat, Yunho's eyes still looking the slightest bit sullen. A small part of your heart twinges, but you try to ignore it. You want this moment to be a fresh start from the morning, to help everyone back to the fun energy of the previous few days.

"Everyone, look, doesn't Seonghwa look so pretty?" you say, hoping everyone comes with you as you glide towards lighter subjects. "Here, come here, let me touch up your lip gloss Hwa."

He comes down and sits in front of you, and you gently brush the applicator over his lips, his face completely still just as you need it. From the kitchen Yunho watches, your hands on his face, your lips on his temple when you give him a small kiss. He does feel better after playing so hard, but instead of anger he now feels what must be envy; it feels like it's snaking up his back to his neck, threatening to choke him. He will never be Seonghwa, never be what Seonghwa is to you. It's a soul crushing realization.

"Ok, there," you say after giving Seonghwa a quick peck on the temple, careful not to mess up the makeup you spent hours on. "Give everyone a little walk," you say.

"Is that your dress?" Mingi asks him as he watches him walk, everyone cooing out their praises.

"No, it's y/n's," Seonghwa responds.

"Oh wow, it fits so well. It looks so good on you," Mingi says, matter of factly.

You gaze around the room, watching Seonghwa's face light up at everyone's praise, when suddenly your eyes land on Hongjoong. Stood in the corner of the room, nursing occasionally at his water bottle, he's unable to take his eyes off of Seonghwa, and it almost looks like he isn't blinking. His face is possibly the softest you've ever seen it, his eyes looking big and gentle and his eyebrows turned up every so slightly in the middle. He doesn't move a muscle but you can see his chest rising and falling, his body seeming almost unaware of anything. Except for the man standing in front of him in a pretty yellow dress.

Suddenly you're snapped back, to Seonghwa's first ever major photo shoot, the one you and most of your friends accompanied him to, to help him feel confident during such a big step in his career. He was only twenty-one then, only about a year into his modeling career. Thinking back now you all were babies, just getting your starts in the world, nowhere even close to finding your feet and knowing who you were. It was such a high profile magazine, and you couldn't have been more excited and hopeful for your friend, unbelievably honored that he asked you to come with him. Everyone had cleared their schedules to be there.

It was the first time you'd seen just how great Seonghwa looked in a dress, all dolled up. As much as he liked feminine clothes, he rarely wore them himself because he feared judgement. But this space was different; every model for that campaign was androgynous. You had never been in a room with so many people who didn't fit into the gender norms. You all waited patiently as Hwa went to change into his outfit for his photo shoot; the room was giant and full of little changing rooms, and you all lost him in the sea of people and chairs, clothes and makeup. Until he finally emerged.

That was the only other time you'd seen Hongjoong look like this. His eyes went so wide you thought they might pop out. He was frozen, truly frozen then, not a single thing in his hand for him to fiddle with. Then, like now, it seemed like he became utterly unaware of anything else in the room, except Seonghwa. He stood like that for a while, you don't remember how long exactly, but then abruptly excused himself.

This time you think it's about a full minute, a full sixty seconds of him staring, not moving an inch. And you can't stop staring too, at his face, trying to read what it all means. When he finally breaks his eyes away from Seonghwa he catches your gaze, and without a word makes for the door, walking himself back outside. You instantly stand up too, needing answers. As you exit the house you brush past Yunho, your eyes lingering for a moment on the way his shirt is stuck to his chest. You hear Ari telling Wooyoung to walk for everyone too, and when the boys complain that they're hungry you hear Woo tell them to make their own food for once. You head is full, so full of every possible feeling, as you break out into the hot air of the late afternoon. You spot Hongjoong sitting on a log in the distance, and march your way over.

"Can I talk to you?" you ask, not bothering to ask if you can sit.

"Hey, listen, I'm sorry about this morning," Hongjoong responds, looking caught out and overwhelmed.

"You don't seem like yourself today," you say, your voice almost stern. Normally you all let each other be, and normally you feel that's the best thing to do. But after the events of the morning, and your conversation with Seonghwa, you don't feel that way right now.

"Well, I don't feel like myself. I guess I haven't done a good job of hiding it," he says, sighing tensely.

"What's up?" you ask, eyeing him with your arms crossed. He sighs, turning his face away from you, staring off into the trees. He starts shaking his head, not making a sound.

"Joong, I'm sorry, but after the way you were acting towards me and Yunho this morning I'm really not in the mood to be nice. I know you might not want to talk to me about your feelings but I need to know why you were being so weird with us, and with Seonghwa. We deserve to know," you say.

"What does Seonghwa have to do with it?" he asks, still not looking at you, fidgeting nervously with his hands.

"Ok, honestly, just forget me and Yunho, I don't even really care at this point. I know you were being cold with Seonghwa all day, why?" you ask.

"Y/n, I..." Hongjoong trails off, taking in a sharp breath, not continuing. You give him a few moments to continue his thought but he just sits there, making you antsy.

"Okay if you're not going to talk, then I'm gonna make a guess at what's going on, and you can tell me if I'm right or if I'm wrong. You love him, don't you? But you don't want to get involved with him in any real way because you're scared? Or you can't for some other reason? But when you're here you basically treat him like he's your boyfriend, cuddling him to sleep at night, sneaking him outside to fuck the daylights out of him while everyone else is in watching a movie. But it's not just a sex thing, you love him. You see him all dolled up and think he's the most precious thing you've ever seen in your life. Am I right?"

Hongjoong looks up at you finally, looking like he's scared, like he wishes he could run away. But he knows you won't let the subject drop, and maybe deep down, he's wanted to talk to someone about this.

"You have to understand, my family..." he starts, visibly shaking.

"What about them, Joong? What do they have to do with Seonghwa?" you ask gently, hoping to finally coax something out of him. With a huge breath, he finally starts talking.

"Do you remember that first big makeup campaign Hwa was a part of? For that gender neutral makeup line? Maybe a month later, I remember walking with my parents to that corner store by their old house, and there Seonghwa was on the cover of a magazine. My dad started going on and on about how gross it was, men making themselves look feminine, how they all were demeaning themselves and just wanted to be girls and how mentally ill they must be. He was saying it was gross that 'that kind of mental illness is now being treated like it's normal.' He kept going on and on and on, the whole time we shopped. He didn't even realize that one of the people on the cover was my good friend from high school that he'd met multiple times. He didn't even recognize it was Seonghwa." Hongjoong stutters out the words, clearly on the verge of breaking down.

"Oh my god Joong, that's awful," you respond, so saddened that he'd never felt able to tell you this story until now.

"I love you guys, but none of the rest of you understand what it's like to have parents like that. I've spent my whole life wishing I could stop these feelings. It would even be easier if I was attracted to masculine men; I think my parents could get past that a bit more easily. It's the gender stuff they're really freaked out by, more than people being gay. But I can't help that I like guys who are pretty. I- I obviously love him, dude, god I know it's fucking obvious. I can't control myself around him. It's fucking embarrassing. And it scares me, because I'm scared one day someone who knows my family is gonna see me reacting that way to another man and go tell my parents." By this point he's shaking hard, a few tears rolling down his cheeks as he clearly tries desperately to control himself. You scoot yourself over so you're right next to him, hugging him into a warm embrace.

"Let yourself cry, your body probably needs it," you say, holding him tight. You feel his heart race, his body so tense as he clings onto you. You just let him cry for a few minutes, not needing to respond right away. Once he's calmed down a bit you both sit up, but you stay close to him.

"I'm so, so sorry your family is that way, I can't even begin to pretend I know what it's like," you start, speaking gently. "Only you know what is best when it comes to navigating your relationships with them. I'm not going to tell you what to do. But if your choice is that you can't date Seonghwa, no matter your feelings, you need to tell him that. And explain it. If you want to hook up with him sometimes, but not date, you need to tell him that. If you want to date him but keep it entirely secret from your family, you need to tell him that. Obviously he might not like some or any of those ideas, but still you need to tell him. Right now he's just confused, and has no idea how you feel. And he's not the one who has been so awful to you, so he doesn't deserve to be kept in the dark."

"I know," Hongjoong replies, hoarsely. "I'm just, not ready for him to hate me."

"He's not going to hate you, Hongjoong," you say.

"Really? If I tell him, hey, I think you're amazing and I love you and want to be with you but can we keep it a secret from like, most people? Just in case my insane family finds out because I'm scared of them even though I'm twenty-seven years old. How awful would that make him feel?" he asks.

"Joong, if you put it like that with no explanation, yeah he'd probably not feel great. But if you told him what you just told me, I think it would be different. Keeping him in the dark is what's really not okay, and I think you being hot and cold with him is really what might make him hate you," you respond.

You both sigh deeply, looking out across the wilderness. You see a squirrel running across the start of a small trail up ahead, grabbing a nut and darting back again. You wish for a moment that was you. A butterfly flutters low in front of you, briefly landing on the ground and turning around, before flying off again. You feel heavy with emotional exhaustion and wish badly you could fly off, if only just for a moment. Just to have a chance to forget everything that had happened today, to feel free of any burden. You sigh with the knowledge that you know it's not possible, that you'll just have to feel it.

"Dinner is ready, if you want food!" Ari calls from the back door, waving at you.

"We'll be there in a minute," you call back.

***

Dinner brings the refreshed energy you were hoping for, Jongho and Yeosang having cooked up a meal everyone loved. As you all eat and chat there's plenty of laughter, still plenty of compliments for Seonghwa and Wooyoung's makeup. You sit between Seonghwa and Yunho, your favorite spot to be, feeling a lot better seeing everyone around you back to their light-hearted conversation. You see Hongjoong on the other side of Seonghwa, offering him food and bringing him refills of his drink when he needs it. It takes you a while to realize it amongst all the chattering, but the only person who is still being silent is Yunho.

Even when you gently place your head on his shoulder after Ari makes you laugh, he basically shrugs you off. You look up at him confused, because he never really does that. You've always been able to hug him or lean on him whenever you felt like it. You see he doesn't look angry anymore, just very distant. Under the table you run your hand along his leg, trying to be comforting. He lets you for a moment but then grabs your hand, gently moving it back to your lap. As soon as he finishes his food he's off, making his way to the library. Soon you excuse yourself too; your body is pulled to him and you can't stop your feet pattering along the floor, walking you fast to go find him.

You find him standing against the wall, his gaze stuck intently on his phone. You grab it from him, gently placing it on the couch. Grabbing his arms and placing them around you, you pull yourself into his body.

"Stop being weird, hug me back," you say, nuzzling into his chest. Finally he relents, pulling you close, his body tense with something you've never felt in him before.

"What's wrong?" you ask, your voice slightly muffled by his chest.

"I'm- I'm sorry I'm not Seonghwa," he answers.

"What does that mean?" you ask as you turn your head up towards him. He is staring out the window over your head, his look very distant.

"I'm sorry I make you feel worse, not better, when you're sick," he says.

"That was just today, Yunho. Usually you do make me feel better," you say.

"But that's the thing, he knows exactly what to do, even when we're out here away from the hospital. How does he just know? I could never be as prepared as him," he sighs.

"Well, he knew he needed to get me hydrated, which is basically just what they do at the hospital with an IV. So he kept feeding me water, had Wooyoung make me soup. Just got a lot of fluids in me. He knows that stuff because we've talked about it, a lot. I can teach you all of those things too, if you want me to. It's not complicated," you reply.

Yunho takes in what you say but can't find words to respond, instead letting out a quiet groan as he closes his eyes, almost collapsing into you.

"What is it?" you ask, stroking your hand through his hair, his head resting on your shoulder.

"You just, have so much more fun with him than me, don't you?" he asks.

"No, I have fun with you both. Why are you thinking that?" you ask.

"Well just, today, with him, when I came in and you were like, putting makeup on him, hugging and kissing him, you looked happier than I've seen you in a while," he says.

"You make it sound like I was making out with him in front of everyone," you laugh, squeezing him tighter. "Of course Seonghwa makes me happy, he's like basically my best friend. And he takes care of me always, and I take care of him. Of course I was having fun. That doesn't mean I like him better than you," you finish. All you get is a grunt in response, as Yunho picks his head off your shoulder, standing straight again. "Do you wish I'd put makeup on you instead?" you ask, giggling, completely joking.

But then Yunho's face sort of freezes, except for his eyes which look down to yours, and then dart to the floor.

"Wait, really? You want me to put makeup on you?" you ask, genuinely surprised. He had never in his life shown interest in makeup, as far as you knew.

"It looked like it would feel nice," he says, looking slightly embarrassed, his voice quiet.

"This is so exciting," you smile, staring up at him with giddiness. "Can I do it now?" you ask.

"Uh, sure," he responds, taken aback a bit. You let out a squeal of happiness.

"Okay, sit right here on my bed, against the pillows. I'll be right back," you say, marching your way out of the room to find Ari. She is still sat in the living room, taking pictures of Wooyoung's makeup. She immediately goes and grabs her makeup bag at your request, helping you pick out the few things you need. You hug her in thanks, running quickly back to your room. The anticipation is killing you; you just want to see Yunho's beautiful face lit up with a smile again. You haven't seen one all day.

You situate yourself on his lap, your legs straddling his, your hips coming in close contact. You know it's not really necessary, but you're looking for any excuse to be touching him after you hadn't had the chance to all day. You set out the products Ari lent you on a shelf behind his head, slowly deciding what exactly you want to do. He's given you permission to do whatever you please, so you let your mind wander, thinking of what would look best on his high cheeks, his perfect lips. You decide to forgo any face makeup, his skin already perfect as is. As you begin applying some eyeshadow he closes his eyes, his head resting gently on the bookshelf behind him. With his eyes closed you finally feel able to say it, feel able to ask the question that had been dancing in the back of your mind all day, only surfacing now that you two were finally alone.

"Did you have your vasectomy reversed?"

He'd gotten one several years ago, during his last serious relationship. He'd mentioned it to you in passing, but you'd made a point of asking him more about it later. You'd never personally known any man who'd gotten one, and couldn't help your curiosity. He'd explained his girlfriend at the time couldn't take birth control, that it gave her bad mood swings. So he got it done for her peace of mind. Your respect for him grew even stronger that day.

"No. Why do you ask?" he responds, a mischievous grin on his lips.

"Cause you went and got a condom last night," you say, still not even sure where or who he got it from. "I thought maybe that was because you'd had it reversed, or something."

"That was because we hadn't had a chance to talk about safety," he says, gently opening his eyes when you remove the brush from his lid, picking up a different palette from the shelf. "I don't know if you've been sleeping with anyone, or if you've been tested recently. And you weren't exactly in a state to have that conversation last night. I just figured using a condom was the safe thing to do."

"I haven't slept with anyone in like, two years," you respond, picking out the next color you want to apply to his crease. "But still I had my gyno test my earlier this year for like, everything. I just wanted to be sure. And I'm clean."

"Me too," he says, closing his eyes again when you quietly ask him to, so you can continue your work. "I haven't slept with anyone in a while too, but I had myself tested a few months ago. Just to be sure, like you said. I'm all good too." You just smile, a contented haze falling around you at how thoughtful and safe he is when it comes to sex. It makes you feel safe, really safe, with him. "So next time we- if we have sex again, do you not want me to use one?" he asks you. He peeks open to see you nodding, your lips curled up in a shy smile. Your reaction makes blood rush to his dick, your slight embarrassment making his head spin. Deep down he knows you like dirty, nasty things, despite your sweet, unassuming exterior. You probably want him to do unspeakable things to you.

"You want to feel my cum leaking out of you, don't you," he asks, voice low with a chuckle. Your core clenches instantly, all of the muscles of your groin instantly tensing up. You turn your head away from him briefly, unable to hide your blushing cheeks and your teeth biting onto your lower lip. Your core tightening against him answers the question for you, making Yunho even harder. "I didn't realize you liked that sort of thing," he says, a hand snaking up your thigh and coming to rest on your ass. It's now that he realizes you truly don't have anything on underneath his hoodie, and you haven't all day. He can feel the heat of your bare core through his sweats, as you start grinding yourself down on him more, your body taking over control of your movements.

"I like a lot of... things," you respond, your voice breathy with how turned on you're getting. Yunho nearly groans at your words, imagining just how many 'things' there are. He grabs your face and pulls you into a deep kiss, his head still slightly higher than yours despite your position. That makes his head spin too, how even sat on his lap you are shorter than him. He turns his head further to the side, coaxing your mouth open with his tongue, his hand on your ass guiding you to keep rubbing yourself against him. On his tongue you taste the sweet and savory flavors of dinner; you devour him like you haven't eaten in days, like he's your last hope of survival. You feel his dick getting hard beneath you, rubbing yourself along it while imaging it inside you. He grabs you tightly against him, pushing his tongue even further into your mouth, making you feel light headed with arousal. You're trying to keep your noises at bay, trying desperately not to make the sounds that you made last night. You chase the pleasure that grinding against him is giving you, but the anticipation is too much, and you need relief from it now. You push your hips back momentarily, setting down the brush in your hand to yank at his sweat pants, pulling them down just enough to let his cock spring free of the material. You move yourself forward, your pussy already so wet and ready for him. You truly don't want to waste any more time, you can't. You sink yourself down onto him, in one slow, fluid motion, sighing at the relief of having him fully seated inside of you.

"Fuck, baby," he whispers into your mouth, his lips on yours again, leaning himself forward and grabbing you tight so your bodies couldn't be any closer. You moan at how big he is, the feeling of relief also mixing with one of slight discomfort, at just how much you're being stretched.

"I can't move, I need a second," you whisper back, your eyes closed tightly in pleasure. He brushes a hand over your cheek, kissing the other, pulling back slightly to give you the moment you need. It makes him even harder seeing how much you are reacting to his size, another example of how small you are compared to him. He gently rubs a hand along your back underneath his hoodie, doing everything he can think of to help you relax. You're breathing slowly through your nose, clearly trying to calm your body, but your hips are moving every so slightly, your body still not able to stop chasing what it wants.

You open your eyes to look at him, his own eyes filled with lust and adoration, and the look makes your insides melt. But you can't help noticing your unfinished work; only one of his eyes has completed eye shadow, and a small gem at the corner bringing it all together.

"Can I finish your makeup?" you ask him, pouting.

"Now?" he responds, smiling in amusement.

"Yeah," you pout again, wishing it all looked complete.

"Okay," he nods, huffing out a laugh. He anchors his hands on your hips as you reach to grab the palette again, your pussy still so tight around him. He breathes deeply himself now, trying to keep his own desperation from hurting you or interrupting your wishes. But as you start applying the makeup again, your hands brushing gently over his skin, his closed eyes heightening every sensation, he can't help but buck his hips into you slightly, making you both moan instantly. He keeps his hands set on your hips tightly and starts rocking them back and forward, not moving you up and down his shaft so much as grinding yourself into him, the changes in pressure feeling shockingly good. You do your best to keep your upper body steady, as you finally complete the eye shadow on his second eye, sitting back to double check the symmetry. All that's left now is applying the gem, but your little noises and faces have nearly sent Yunho over the edge and he starts fucking himself up into you, holding your hips steady. You hold onto his shoulders, trying to keep yourself from falling as immense waves of pleasure wash over you. You look at his face again, his mouth agape in pleasure, his eyes looking so pretty framed by the makeup you'd applied. But still, the incompleteness eats at you.

"I can't- fuck- finish your makeup if you're fucking me like that," you say, breathless and struggling to get out such a long sentence.

"I don't really care about the makeup anymore," he says, eyes scanning down your body to watch his cock entering you over and over and stretching you out.

"It's just one more thing, let me finish," you whine, using your own momentum to try to slow his movements.

"Fuck, baby, okay," he groans, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to try to steady his rapid heart rate. His cock is throbbing with pleasure now, and with no barrier between you he can feel everything about you, just how warm and tight and wet your pussy is, squeezing down on him. He's not sure how long he can stay like this, but he wants to let you do what you want, so he begs his own body to behave, to deal with it. You shakily grab the gem, the adrenaline in your body making it nearly impossible as you almost drop it. Your body lurches forward for a second when you grab for it, making your core tighten down again and making Yunho feel like he's about to come undone. Finally you dab on the tiny spec of glue, and finally you place the gem on his face, just where you need it. Again you sit back for a moment to check the symmetry, and Yunho eyes your face intensely, waiting with baited breath for the moment he can finally move again.

"Okay, it's done," you say, a pleased smile on your face. It takes Yunho only a second to grab onto your back with one arm, anchoring himself with his other arm to his side. Suddenly you're in the air and then on your back, met the softness of your blanket. Yunho desperately grabs at his hoodie, pulling it over your head in one motion, throwing it to the side as he pulls off his own shirt with just one hand. His mouth is on yours, his chest and stomach pressed against you as he fucks you hard, his cock repeatedly hitting the perfect spot inside of you. Almost instantly your legs start shaking, your orgasm building fast and threatening to rip through you after all of the teasing before. Your breaths become too ragged for kissing, your head turned to the side as you desperately try not to moan like you did last night, not wanting to upset anyone again. Yunho lifts himself up to watch you, sitting himself up on his knees and putting your ankles on his shoulders, still fucking into you hard, the change in angle making your legs start to shake even more.

"Fuck, Yunho," you moan, feeling so fucked out you can't think of anything else but him. It only takes a few more moments and you're coming undone; your legs shake so much Yunho has to hold them tight, feeling the muscles of your cunt flutter and clench beautifully around him. He fucks you through it, loving to see the look on your face and the way you're trying so hard to be quiet. As he feels the fluttering stop he slows his thrusts a little, not wanting to stop too soon.

"Do you want another one?" he asks, his huge hands wrapped tightly around your legs still. You nod your head with a small smile, feeling like you could take him for hours if he wanted you to. "You'll have to keep it down for me then, even if it feels really good," he says, making you cover your face in embarrassment. Once again, your tightening core communicates for you, Yunho able to read you so well. "I know you like it when I talk to you like that," he says, making you squeal into your hands.

And then he's fucking you again, your legs still in the air, the angle making you come again in mere moments, as you bite down on your hand to keep from making too much noise. Yunho can tell your body can take more now, so he keeps going, feeling his own high approaching as you come for the third time in a row.

"God, I love fucking you," he whispers, his throat tight with pleasure. You feel the need for him to be close again, after coming so many times, so you wiggle your legs until he releases them, and pull at him to come down to you. He nearly collapses on top of you as he buries his face in your hair, his ragged breaths resounding in your ear. You bite down on his shoulder, the only way you can keep yourself from screaming, and suddenly you're coming again. So is Yunho, his hips finally stuttering from their diligent pace, his breathy groans uncontrollable as he cums harder than he ever has. You feel his cum inside you, filling you with warmth, making you wrap your arms and legs around him in a giant hug. As you both come down you stay stuck together, your mind a complete haze of pleasure and happiness.

"That wasn't too much, was it?" he asks you, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek and pushing himself up to get a good look at your face.

"Not at all, it was so good," you murmur, smiling wide. "Sometimes my body can take a lot."

"You're so beautiful," he says, staring at your perfect nose and lips and eyes in wonder.

"You're so beautiful," you respond, stretching your head up to kiss him. After a few more lazy moments spent wrapped around each other, Yunho grabs a pillow, tucking it under your lower back before he starts to finally pull out of you.

"Try to hold it in, I've got a towel right over there," he says, making you laugh. As you hold yourself still he darts to grab it, back to the bed in a second to start cleaning you up. As he dabs at your pussy he sees a few drops of his cum have escaped you, dripping down your ass and onto the bed below. It's so hot it almost makes him hard again, as he sits mesmerized by the sight. Knowing that there's so much still in you, that it'll be dripping out of you all night as you both sleep, makes him feel light headed. You're so tired you don't even see, your eyes closed as you nearly drift off already, your body needing rest after your hectic day. He gently moves you to the side of the bed you like, quickly wiping himself down before crawling into bed with you. You both fell asleep wrapped around each other again, his cum slowly dripping out of you and down your leg where you find it dried the next morning, a welcome reminder of your previous night.

[imaginidol]

Yunho: Table Manners

!!mentions of nsfw!! 18+ !! do NOT interact if you don’t like smut!! As requested, here is another ateez smut fic! I haven’t even finished my ot8 fluff stories and I’m already pumping these out ahead of time! Naughty atiny!! In case you are interested, here is a San ver. smut and a Hongjoong ver. smut and a Mingi ver. smut, Wooyoung ver. smut and jongho ver. Smut. I’ve already gotten another asmuteez request so be on the look out for that if you NEED it *squints suspiciously at you*

"A pleasure to finally meet you," Wooyoung quickly bows his head in your direction, followed by a gentle greeting from the rest of the ATEEZ boys.

Tonight was a special night, as it was the first night Yunho was properly introducing you to his best friends in the world as his official romantic partner.

He had invited his members out to a very nice dinner for the occasion, and everyone had dressed casually elegant.

You, however, looked exceptionally beautiful in your choice of clothing for the occasion: a slim-fitted black halter-maxi dress with a plunging neckline, all of which graciously outlined the alluring curvature of your body. Your hair was pinned in a high ponytail and your sparkling heels complemented the final look well.

It was no secret that you were total eye candy at first sight, and one of Yunho's members in particular had taken special notice as well.

As the night progressed, the initial light conversation turned into full conversations about hobbies, industry gossip, how-we-met stories, and other fun interests.

Wooyoung takes a slow sip of his white wine, turning his attention to you.

"You said you'd want to learn more about recording songs, right?"

"I'd love to, actually," you smile, turning to Yunho. "Will you take me one day?"

Yunho's eyes softened. "I'll bring you this week to studio, if you'd like."

"Thank you! I feel like it would be so fun to see how you guys work!"

"Why don't you record stuff for fun while you're there?" Wooyoung smirks, taking another sip of his wine. "I could show you a few things, too."

"Really?" you smile eagerly, "What about music production, could we try that too?"

Wooyoung nodded, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms, eyeing you steadily. "I could definitely do that for you."

"Wooyoung, you're not too buzzed yet, yeah?" Hongjoong says, rubbing his palm against a now half-drunken Wooyoung's neck.

Wooyoung scoffs, shaking his head quietly. "Nah, not yet."

Yunho takes notice of his friend's odd behavior. While he wouldn't be upset if Wooyoung did find you attractive, he was going to be upset if Wooyoung intended to do something about it and passively flirt around you all night long.

"Would you please excuse us," Yunho politely nods towards the rest of his members, pulling his chair back to stand and lightly tapping you on the shoulder.

"Oh?" you look up at your boyfriend and let him wrap his hand around yours as you follow him out to the restroom hallway.

"What's wrong, babe?" you place a hand against Yunho's arm as he turns towards you, his fingers rubbing his eyes in visible annoyance.

"It's nothing that's necessarily your fault, but I don't... I think... I think Wooyoung's got an eye on you, or something like that."

"Wooyoung?" you start giggling, cupping a hand around Yunho's jaw. "Awe, are you getting jealous?"

"Shh, it's not funny," he mutters, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Yunho, I don't think I've ever seen or heard you when you're jealous. I kind of like it," you tease, placing your hands against his chest and leaving a soft kiss against his lips.

"Just don't give him too much attention anymore, alright? I'll deal with him after," he mumbles into your lips. He gently wraps his arms around your waist, not wanting to think about his friend's behavior anymore.

"But, does this mean I can't go to your recording studio anymore?"

Yunho's eyebrows furrow slightly. "Only if you're with me, and you let me show you how things work."

"Oh?" you cock your head to the side, smiling, "So, no Wooyoung?"

Yunho's eyes grow hooded. "You want him to come? What, so you like his attention on you now?"

You shrugged. "I guess I like it when I get attention," you smirk.

Yunho furrows his brows more, studying your expressions carefully.

She's doing it again, he thinks.

"You're doing it again," he mutters out loud.

"What am I doing?" you say, placing your index fingers around his belt loops.

"Don't fuck around with me like that, especially not with Wooyoung," he mumbles in a low grating voice, bringing his face closer to yours.

"Okay, I won't," you smile, "just as long as it means you are giving me all the attention I want."

Yunho's eyes jump from your eyes to your lips, his hands still clutched around your waist. "And what if I don't? Should I get worried?"

You drop your smile quickly as you bring a hand up to his face, rubbing your thumb steadily against his bottom lip. "I'll get it from Wooyoung."

Yunho immediately rams his lips into yours out of pure frustration, shoving your back against the wall.

"Say it again, I fucking dare you," Yunho mutters breathily, digging his fingernails into your ass.

You let out a soft groan as you feel his harsh kisses trace a line from your jaw down your neck, both your hands now gripping his waist.

"If I see you giving him the attention he wants one more time, I'll fuck the shit out of you until you regret it," he hisses.

"Do I... do I have to wait to give him attention for me to get that punishment?" you tease softly, pulling against his belt loops again.

"Fuck it, you're done for," he snarls, looking over his shoulder and locating your next impromptu destination: a janitor's closet.

He quickly pulls you in, shutting the lights off and locking the door behind him before turning his attention back to you.

You feel his strong hands wrap around your back as he slams your body against the wall behind you, making a rattling noise as several custodial objects toppled all over the floor in the process.

You tug at his pants desperately, begging with your fingers for him to take them off.

"Oh, fuck no, you're not getting shit unless you beg me for it," he snarls, slapping your hands away from his belt and unzipping the back of your dress.

You whine in protest, pulling your arms out of your sleeve holes and slipping out of your heels in a few swift motions as Yunho pulls his sleeves up to his elbows.

Yunho lifts a couple fingers to his lips and quickly drenches them in spit before proceeding to glide his hand down your stomach and into your panties.

"Yunho,” you whisper as you feel his fingers find their way onto your clit. He began massaging you gently; kneading strategically against your sensitive happy button as soft moans began escaping your lips.

“You like that, princess?” he mumbles under his breath, soft grunts escaping his lips as he felt you drenching his fingers more and more.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he hisses, scrunching his face in deep pleasure as he felt a boner rising somewhere deep within his pants.

He raises an arm against the wall next to your head and encloses his mouth around yours, keeping his other hand busy rubbing two drenched fingers against your bean. You have one arm wrapped around his shoulder and neck, the other tugging desperately at his arm as you raised one leg around his hips, nudging him to start fingering you.

"You want attention, princess?" he breathes, biting your lip profusely as he followed his fingers down your labia to reach your hole.

"Fuck," you whimper, raising your leg higher in desperation at the feel of Yunho's steady fingers gently teasing your entrance.

"Beg for it," he sneers, his breath hot against your neck as he cravingly bit into your skin.

"Please, finger me already," you whimper, "just please fucking finger me!"

“You’re so fucking needy,” Yunho scoffs, inserting his fingers into you and pulling out steadily, his cock now fully hardened and poking you through his clothed crotch.

Your soft moans being to match the pace of his fingers sliding in and out of you, your hole growing wetter and looser alongside his every rapturing stroke.

"Please, Yunho, fuck me," you achingly plead, shamelessly tugging at his zipper in an attempt to pull it down.

"You're gonna be fucking patient," he growled, seeing as how your itched fingers had managed to thirstily slide their way underneath his boxers.

You pulled down his boxers and out popped his wet, hardened cock. You traced circles around his tip as he kept ramming his fingers in and out of you, ignoring your hungry requests for more.

Suddenly, a devious thought lingered through your mind.

"You know,” you smile, “I bet Wooyoung would've had his cock inside of me already a long fucking time ago," you tease.

That sentence alone is enough to force Yunho to rip his dress shoes, black turtleneck, and pants off his body, desperately fumbling his way out.

You clench your jaw as he lifts your legs off the ground and wraps them around his waist, his hardened member already seeping wet drops of cum at its tip.

"Say... that... again... SAY IT!!" he pants desperately as he begins pushing himself roughly into you, every word coming out of his mouth in unison with each deep thrust. Your loud moans began to fill the otherwise quiet and voided air around you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you moan loudly, clawing your fingernails deeply into the soft canvas of porcelain-like skin of his back as each intensifying stroke slipped in and out of your pink-fleshed caverna.

--

"They've been gone awhile; do you think they're alright?" Yeosang turns to Hongjoong, taking a sip of his hot tea as quiet jazz tunes play from the ceiling speakers above.

"Hmm," Hongjoong turns toward the end of the restaurant where he last saw you and Yunho disappear. "Don't know."

"Probably arguing, as healthy couples do," Jongho says, taking a bite of fish cake. "Wooyoung, I blame you,” he sneers through a mouthful of food. “Keep your eyes to yourself next time, yeah? It's bro code."

"Right," Hongjoong turns back around thoughtfully, popping some kimchi into his mouth.

--

You slam both hands against the wall as Yunho roughly turns you onto your stomach, spreading your legs wide as he began hitting it from the back.

Yunho's bangs are drenched as tiny drops of sweat splash onto your hot, glossy back, both your bodies growing warmer under the intensifying and sexy heat of friction. With every passing desirous moan and grunt, Yunho thrusts himself deeper into you, bending over to firmly clasp his hands around your hips and then biting profusely into your neck.

Loud moans escape your lips as you're no longer able to keep them in, your body under complete control of the boy masterminding an orchestra of your vocal chords behind you.

Yunho's breathy gasps slowly turn to soft whimpers as his wet, throbbing member slips in and out of your loosened warm, velvety inner walls. He seemingly felt himself on the verge of reaching his limit, but refused to let go until you reached the pleasure you oh-so wonderfully deserved.

"C'mon, baby," Yunho whispers into your ear as you throw your head back into his shoulder, "cum for me already," he whispers gently. At that, he begins fucking you harder and faster, throwing any and all signs of polite and gentle sex out the window.

You fail to hold in a loud, pleasurable groan as your lower abdomen is joyously overwhelmed by the full extortion of your final orgasm, to which Yunho takes the full and pleasurable joy of feeling his throttling member drench completely at your release.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," Yunho hisses, sinking his teeth deep into his bottom lip as the sensation of your warmth overwhelms his hot, throbbing member. He pulls out quickly with only seconds of limited time to jerk himself off before a steaming hot jet stream of cum shoots all over your back.

"Fuck," Yunho takes a couples steps back, outstretching his arms to lean against the wall in front of him with you underneath. He leans in gently, lowering his warm body against your back as several of his soft kisses are gently planted against your cheek. The small janitorial closet grew quiet except for the heavy panting in an attempt to catch your breaths. He looked around and only hoped that the custodians of this restaurant would take deep-cleaning requests seriously, and he cursed himself quietly under his breath for the uncanny mess that was left of the small room. He planted one last soft kiss against your shoulder as he stepped back and started shuffling through the storage bins in search of a roll of paper towels.

"Don't move, baby," he muttered, wiping what he could of his mess off your back and in between your legs. He folded the paper towel and with it finished wiping himself down, though he knew that you two wouldn't be fully clean until you managed to take a shower sometime later that night.

"Sorry, baby," he hummed, balancing you on your feet as he helped you pull your dress back on and slip into your heels. "I'll try to find an excuse for us to go home as quickly as possible."

You giggled as you helped your boyfriend dress himself next, leaving a quick, soft kiss against his V-line before pulling his pants up and zipping them shut.

"I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow," you sigh under your breath, annoyedly pinching your boyfriend's waist as you both awkwardly stepped out of the closet.

"How do I look?" you tiredly smile up to your boyfriend, trying to pat down your hair as best as you could. Streaks of your runny eye makeup and faded lipstick made him giggle softly, a proud trophy he considered after the sinful events of the last twenty minutes.

"You look like you've learned your lesson," he smirks, leaning over to plant a soft kiss against your cheek. He pulls out another paper towel and begins to gently touch up your makeup the best that he could, though with all his best efforts you still looked like you were lawlessly railed without any signs of regret.

"What about me? Do I look presentable?"

You giggled at the sight of his wrinkled shirt and mess of drenched hair, running your fingers through his bangs in an attempt to make him look not-so-guilty of the heinous acts he'd just committed out of distasteful jealousy.

--

"Oh, there you are. We thought you guys had left already," Yeosang smiles as you and Yunho hobbled awkwardly into your seats. You flinched as you sat, still feeling the rawness in your hole where Yunho had recklessly fucked you like it was no one’s immediate business.

"Were you crying?" Jongho says, noticing the smudged residue of mascara and eyeliner that Yunho had failed to completely wipe clean. Yunho takes notice and proceeds to gently pat a napkin against your face.

Yunho smiled assuringly in your direction. “What? No, those are happy tears, you see," he teased, flashing you a pretty grin with perfect teeth.

"Oh? That's good to hear, then," Wooyoung sighed, nudging Jongho's arm. "See? They weren’t arguing.”

Jongho rolls his eyes.

“Anyhow,” Hongjoong continues, turning to face you, "you’re very beautiful and we very much appreciated getting to finally meet you,” he smiles, turning his attention to Yunho next. “She's a real gem, so never forget to treat her right,” he finishes, sending a small wink in your direction.

Yunho squeezed your thigh under the table, turning a gentle smile back in your direction.

"Trust me when I say, taking good care of her is my top priority."

[cor-lapis]

I decided to have a go at doing my own redesigns because these three are my favourites and I love them very much. further notes + sources under the readmore (warning: lots of text). I did my best with the research, but if there's anything I overlooked, I'd really appreciate people letting me know :)

Tighnari:

My main source for Tighnari was this excellent thread, from which I looked up each item of clothing individually. Since djellabas tend to be quite long, and Tighnari needs mobility for forest ranger activities, I figured he would cut and re-hem the lower half. He also has a lot of clothing pieces that are traditionally multicoloured, but to keep his design cohesive I decided to use the same colours across different items, but using a larger palette of colours than I would usually. I like the bright colours on him a lot though!

There are also some minor details I just changed because I wanted to. The flower on his chest is now a nilotpala lotus, because I thought it was nice to include his acension material/the material he asks you to help gather. The dirt stains/scuff marks are because rainforests are muddy and I wanted the design to emphasise Tighnari being very practical and hands-on with his work (see also, the specimen belt).

Finally, I shrunk the magnifying glass on his back (because I'm pretty sure it's meant to be his first magnifying glass toy and that thing is very large for a child to handle) and gave him an undercut because it seemed right. Also, I merged his front and back trailing cloths into a scarf type of thing that he could wrap around his nose and mouth to prevent inhaling spores from mushrooms.

Collei:

COLLEI my beloved. I had a mild nightmare trying to figure out a specific source culture for her design, but nobody seemed to know specifics and her outfit wasn't matching with any traditional dress I looked up, so in the end decided to keep the overall look the same. Just in case I assigned her something else, but then it turned out I missed her actual inspiration.

Anyway, I made her shoes simpler (no fur, heels, and open toes in the rainforest seemed reasonable to me), and gave her shorts. I liked the green colour because it's pretty unique under a dark dress, and pairs nicely with Nahida's white dress + green undersides. Amber's tie stays, but I made most of her jewellery smaller since it felt a little clunky for a trainee ranger.

Her earring and necklace(?) are allusions to the Evil Eye and the Khmissa/Hamsa, both symbols of protection. Especially considering the fact they're meant to ward off evil, and very common across multiple MENA cultures, it seemed fitting for Collei to have them. Also, she has Eleazar scars, and I used the design for her stockings as inspiration for the combination knee braces (similar to those used for arthritis, since Eleazar also causes stiff limbs and I HC that people affected would probably still need some recovery support)/knee pads (in the case of a fall). I like the idea that Kaveh would have helped make them for her (tangent but the fic Here is the House explores similar ideas; it's really really good, I heavily recommend it). Finally, she has curly hair because I thought it would be cute.

Cyno:

Here's the thread I found for Cyno. The main critique was to do with the eras from which each aspect of his clothing drew inspiration, but I admittedly wouldn't be able to do much about this without a lot of research. One thing I did try and verify was the small strip of cloth on the left of his chest, and I found a few wall murals where the people seem to be wearing similar strips of cloth? (example here; rightmost figure) Therefore, I didn't remove it, but if someone wants to explain Ancient Egyptian clothing history to me I'd be really interested to hear it 6.6

I might iterate on the design in the future, but for now the changes are mostly HC territory. Cyno wearing his hair in locs (a protective hairstyle) makes sense for someone who does a lot of hiking after rogue scholars, and I also gave him quite old and faded top surgery scars because healthcare is canonically free in Sumeru (thanks for that information, al-Haitham)(though tbf Cyno makes bank anyway). I also adjusted the colours a bit, since Genshin tends to use desaturated shades for metallic elements.

I also considered giving Cyno more scars, but figured that it could indicate Hermanubis' presence that someone you'd expect to get injured a lot is relatively scar-free (i.e. some sort of godly healing factor/resistance to damage). However, we know next to nothing about Hermanubis, so Cyno having a lot of scars also makes sense. This paragraph is mostly just a cry for help cyno story quest 2 literally any more elaboration about the nature of Hermanubis' pact and the Temple of Silence.

Conclusion

I wasn't intending to write one when I started the explanations but this got REALLY long so if you made it this far, thank you so so much ToT please check out the links; the threads especially were a great resource, and I'm grateful that people take the time to make them <3 genshin's character design department are cowards but I'm glad I learned some new things through the redesign process

[eloriis]

HEATHER - lando norris

in which. . heather was everything lando wanted and y/n could never be her, no matter what she did — ln4 x f! reader

- inspired by heather | conan gray

warnings : body image issues(?), slight mentions of being intoxicated, let me know if there’s anything else!

notes: first fully written post and angst, kinda scared about how it’s going to do cuz i haven’t written in so long.

i hate angst or sad endings so i have no idea what got me to actually go through with this idea 💀💀

type : written ⋆ word count : 1.3k

i still remember the third of december, me in your sweater

i was currently in lando’s living room scrolling through my phone when lando walked into the room and sat down beside me, pulled out his phone, and asked, “what do you want for lunch? i was planning on ordering some food.” i put my phone down and looked into his beautiful aquamarine eyes, which were already looking into mine. “anything works really." he glanced down at his phone and looked up. “uhhh you in mood for some... pasta??"  i gave him a little nod and smiled, “yeah sure! that sounds great.”

you said it looked better on me than it did you

he quickly placed the order and looked at me with a bright smile. “the order has been placed, my lady.” giggling, i replied, “oh how kind of you, sir." he looked at me and quickly smiled when he saw what i was wearing. “my sweater looks so much better on you than me, pretty girl." a small blush rose in my neck. “thank you, lan” i quietly replied with a smile.

 only if you knew how much i liked you

i felt a small weight on my heart after the compliment. i knew he meant it as a friendly gesture, but i couldn’t help but want it to be something more intimate. i wanted to tell him just how much i loved him and wanted him to myself, but i knew.

 but i watch your eyes as she walks by

i knew how you felt about her, how you thought she was the prettiest girl in the world, and how she had the prettiest smile and the most gorgeous eyes. how could i not? with all the times you’ve ranted about her to me?

 what a sight for sore eyes

everyone knew how much she meant to you; anyone with half a brain and eyes would. your eyes were practically heart-shaped whenever she was around.

 brighter than the blue sky

it was almost as if she were the walking sun. whenever she was around, your bright blue eyes would somehow become even brighter and bluer.

 she’s got you mesmerized while i die

i couldn’t help but feel like i was drowning in my own feelings and thoughts whenever I saw her or heard her name. she’s got you on your knees for her, the same way you have me on my knees for you.

 why would you ever kiss me?

it was 2:47 a.m on a saturday night, and you were in my apartment after a night of partying too hard. i left you to freshen up and got you some water, when i came back and watched you gulp the water down, i felt like this was the closest i could ever get to calling you my boyfriend. you suddenly stood up and walked closer to me. my eyes widened as you were walking closer and closer to me. you suddenly held my right cheek and whispered, “you’re so pretty, i could kiss you right now.”

i shouldn’t have done it, i shouldn’t have told you to do it. i knew it would kill me the next day, but i had finally had the chance to know how you feel. how could i ever pass that up?

 i’m not even half as pretty

standing in front of the mirror, i could tell why he liked her. she had the most gorgeous hair, the perfect body, the sweetest voice, and really, really pretty eyes.

 you gave her your sweater, it’s just polyester

she walked into the room wearing your sweater, which fit her perfectly. it was not very baggy but not very form-fitting either, maybe it’s because of her body. the worst part wasn’t that she looked so comfortable in it, but the way you looked at her, like she had hung the stars and the moon in the sky.

 

but you like her better

 wish i were heather

all i want is one day. just one day in her body to know how it feels to have you love me. that’s all i ask for.

 watch as she stands with her, holding your hand

her hands fit perfectly into yours; they looked as if Aphrodite herself had made each of your hands with the other in mind.

 put your arm ‘round her shoulder, now i’m getting colder

i turned around excitedly to look at lando as our song started playing in the background of the club, only to come face-to-face with another scene that had my heart cracking even more and another night successfully ruined.

he was talking to some of our mutual friends, which wasn’t even the worst part. he had his arm around her shoulder, holding her securely as she started laughing about something lando had said. a shiver went down my spine, and the chill i felt was nothing compared to how my heart was hurting.

 but how could i hate her? she’s such an angel

“oh my god, i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to intrude.” i was just in the restroom, touching up my makeup and talking to my best friend over the phone, when she walked into the restroom. she looked like she was genuinely surprised and did not mean to walk in.

i almost felt bad for trying to antagonize her.

but then again, kinda wish she were dead as she

walks by

all the feelings of guilt had disappeared when i was back where i was a few weeks ago. standing beside lando, talking to him when she walks into the room, stealing his attention as always.

 what a sight for sore eyes

i could feel my eyes tearing up; i couldn’t make a scene. not here in public. i quickly excused myself to the restroom and walked towards it with my head down while taking shaky breaths every ten seconds to try and calm myself.

 brighter than the blue sky

it happened again; your eyes suddenly became so much brighter and more vibrant when you looked at her. it hurts. i wish i could just tell you how much you mean to me and how i want to be more than just your friend, but no, i can’t do this to you or myself. i can’t make you choose between me and her when i know that you’ll always choose her.

she’s got you mesmerized while i die

i wish that you were under a spell—a spell that makes you look at her as if she’s the only person who matters. a spell that makes you want her and not me. i also wish that maybe, if she does have you under a spell, i could learn it too. just for one day, just to know how it feels to be your everything.

 why would you ever kiss me?

that night haunts me. your lips on mine were the best thing i’ve ever felt. it was short, but it will always be the most precious moment to me. the ghost of your lips keeps me awake at night, hoping that maybe you'll come again, for another kiss that i can treasure. but i know it will never happen, not when you have her to go to.

i’m not even half as pretty

i would never be like her, no matter how much i workout, what I eat, or what I wear. i could never compare myself to her. she’s the sun while i’m just another star somewhere in the sky.

 you gave her your sweater, it’s just polyester

i saw your sweater again, a different one. it was the one i gave you on your birthday last year, the one you loved so much and promised to never let anyone touch it or take it away from you. i guess that promise means nothing to you, just like the many other ones that we shared.

 but you like her better

no matter what you do or say, i know that i’ll always be second to her. i don’t have to hear it from anyone; i can see it as clearly as broad daylight.

 

i wish i were heather.

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@bingussthirdtoe