#but god i just feel like i need someone to back me up here or like

[bu3ck3r]

tied together – part 7

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

warning: sexual content

a/n: hi guys so sorry for this delay my finals are killing me but anyways this chapter is basically 9k words full of moments that have been happening between paige and azzi during the rest of college. enjoyy

tied together – masterlist

it was one of those sticky summer evenings in storrs where the heat still lingered, even after the sun had dropped behind the trees. the backyard of their off-campus house glowed with hanging string lights, a speaker tucked on the porch playing a low r&b playlist. someone had grilled earlier, the scent of sweet corn still hung in the air.

the uconn girls had taken over the space, lounging on blankets across the grass, plates balanced on their knees, cups of lemonade in hand. azzi was curled up on one of the big outdoor cushions, her bare legs tucked under her, laughing at something caroline had just said. her head tilted back, curls falling over her shoulder, eyes bright.

paige, sitting behind her on a low chair, leaned in and tucked a loose strand behind azzi’s ear. “that laugh right there,” she murmured just loud enough for azzi to hear, “is the reason i’m completely ruined.”

azzi shot her a look, cheeks flushed and smiling, trying not to melt completely on the spot. “you’re so dramatic.”

“nah, i’m so in love,” paige said with a wink, leaning forward to kiss her temple, not caring one bit that the team was watching—most of them pretending not to watch while watching everything.

kk whistled. “okay, we get it. you two are disgustingly in love. can someone pass me another lemonade before i throw mine at them?”

“you’re just mad you’re not invited to the azzi and paige lovefest,” ice said, tossing her a can.

“actually,” caroline added, grinning, “i think it’s kinda adorable. they’ve been like this since the season ended. like, 24/7.”

“they’re in their honeymoon phase,” nika muttered, but she was smiling too. “every time i come into the kitchen, one of them is sitting on the counter with their legs wrapped around the other.”

“liar,” azzi said, laughing now, covering her face. “she’s lying.”

“she is not lying,” paige said proudly. “i can confirm. excellent makeout spot, 10/10.”

that made everyone laugh, the kind of loud, contagious laughter that echoed into the evening. azzi threw a balled-up napkin at paige’s head. “can you not expose me for one second?”

“never,” paige said, catching the napkin and tossing it behind her. “not when you look this good.”

and she did, azzi was wearing one of paiges tshirts that barely covered her shorts, skin glowing from the heat and the warm light. paige couldn’t stop touching her, hand resting on her knee, thumb brushing slow circles on her thigh, just because she could. they stayed like that as the night stretched on, playing uno on the blanket, sharing stories, swatting away mosquitoes, paige stealing bites off azzi’s plate without asking. they didn’t need to be front and center all the time. they just liked being close. they gravitated toward each other like magnets, even when surrounded by the people they cared about.

later, when most of the team had drifted inside for dessert or showers, paige pulled azzi closer, both of them sitting on the porch step now, watching the lights blink lazily overhead.

“this has been a good summer,” paige said softly.

azzi leaned her head on paige’s shoulder. “the best. you know, i still can’t believe we’re here. i’m starting my sophomore year already, you’re starting your junior year. it feels like yesterday we were just…”

“barely talking,” paige finished, grinning.

azzi looked up at her. “thank god we figured it out.”

paige kissed her slow, right there on the porch with the scent of summer grass and grilled meat in the air. “i’d fight through every awkward month again if it meant ending up right here.”

“you’re getting soft on me,” azzi whispered against her lips.

“only for you,” paige said.

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it was almost midnight during paige’s junior year when she finally kicked off her sneakers and collapsed onto her dorm bed, the game still humming in her blood. her jersey was half on, half off, sweat-dried and wrinkled and her hair was a mess from the postgame media chaos. she didn’t care. all she wanted was one thing. her thumb hovered over azzi’s name, pink heart emoji saved beside it and then the screen filled with the dialing sound.

it took two rings.

azzi answered, already grinning, bare-faced and beautiful, wrapped in a soft hoodie with her curls pulled back into a loose bun. “hey, superstar.”

“you watched?”

“duh.” azzi’s voice was sleepy and warm. “i screamed every time you touched the ball. my whole suite probably thinks i’m insane.”

“they’d be right.” paige laughed, shifting the phone to prop it against her pillow. “you look cozy. can i teleport there?”

“please do. i made popcorn and everything.”

paige rolled onto her side, chin in hand. “i miss you so bad it’s ridiculous.”

azzi smiled, eyes softening. “i miss you more, baby.”

they didn’t say anything for a moment. just looked. azzi’s camera caught the glow of her lights behind her, soft yellow against her skin. paige’s screen flickered from the light of her desk lamp, shadows casting long across her tired face.

“you’re so pretty it makes me wanna cry,” azzi whispered.

paige snorted. “you’re just tired.”

“no,” azzi said, quiet but firm. “i mean it. i don’t think i’ve ever looked at someone the way i look at you.”

paige swallowed. “don’t do this to me right now.”

“what?”

“i’m already five seconds from crying. i had the longest day, and then you show up on my screen like that and say that shit?”

azzi smiled, eyes watery now too. “sorry. but also not sorry.”

“god, i just…” paige groaned into her pillow, “i want you here. i want to sleep next to you. i want to wake up next to you. i want to brush my teeth while you’re hogging the mirror. i want everything. it’s annoying how much i want you, princess.”

azzi’s laugh was soft and dizzy. “you sound so down bad.”

“i am down bad.”

“same.” azzi pulled the hoodie tighter around herself. “you’re my favorite person in the world.”

paige smiled, cheek pressed to the pillow. “i’m so in love with you it’s pathetic.”

“you’re not pathetic. you’re mine.”

that did it. paige blinked fast, one tear slipping out. “i can’t believe we get to love each other like this.”

“me neither.”

the screen glowed faint blue against azzi’s face, lighting up the quiet dark of her dorm room. she lay curled beneath a thick gray blanket, one leg kicked free from the heat, eyes fixed on her phone screen. paige’s face smiled back at her, all warmth and tired joy from her apartment hundreds of miles away.

“you ever think about how weird this is?” azzi whispered, her voice sleepy and dreamy. “like… we’re in two completely different places. but i still feel you.”

paige smirked, adjusting the pillow under her head. “baby, we’re like… mentally glued. spiritually attached. soul-knotted.”

“soul-knotted?” azzi giggled. “is that a new one?”

“yeah, i made it up. sounds deep, right?” paige grinned, her eyes crinkling.

azzi bit her lip. “you’re so annoying. i miss your stupid face.”

paige sat up a little, adjusting the camera so azzi could see more of her bare shoulders, messy tank top, sleep-tousled hair. “well here it is. admire away.”

“trust me, i’ve been admiring,” azzi said, eyes scanning the screen. “you’re hot. like, i’m literally in love with your collarbone.”

paige burst out laughing. “what?! my collarbone?”

“yeah. it’s so underrated. like look at that dip right there. stupid sexy.”

“you’re kind of insane, baby.”

“you love it.”

“i really do,” paige said, her tone softening. “i love how obsessed you are. i love that you call me at 1 a.m. just to stare at me like a weirdo.”

“you’re my weirdo,” azzi mumbled, eyes fluttering shut for a second.

“you falling asleep on me again?” paige whispered.

“no,” azzi lied, clearly already fading. “i’m just… soaking in your voice. your face. everything. i feel better just hearing you.”

paige exhaled, slow and full of affection. “i’d hold you if i could.”

“i know. and when we’re done with this year, we’ll have each other all the time in the summer. no more screens.”

“yeah,” paige whispered. “i can’t wait.”

they lay like that for a while, screens between them, silence soft but full. azzi eventually started humming something under her breath, the same song she always played when they were in the car together. paige closed her eyes and just listened, breathing in rhythm with her.

“can you sleep with me on the phone?” azzi asked, voice slow now, melting into the moment.

“you don’t even have to ask beautiful,” paige said, already pulling the blanket up.

“leave the camera on.”

azzi set her phone beside her pillow, her face still barely visible in the shadows. “goodnight, p.”

“goodnight, az,” paige whispered. “dream about me.”

“i always do.”

the call didn’t end. the screen dimmed, soft light casting over both of them—two girls in love, in two different beds, but sharing the same quiet night.

and neither of them slept alone.

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after not seeing each other for two weeks, paige decided to visit azzi for a weekend before her senior year starts. the second azzi cracked open the door to her apartment, paige was already on her. she dropped her duffel bag with a dull thud and pulled azzi in, pressing her whole body close in a way that said she didn’t want even air to come between them.

“i missed you so bad,” paige breathed out, her lips brushing the sensitive skin under azzi’s ear. “like… every second we were apart felt like forever.”

azzi laughed, breath catching, and buried her face in paige’s neck. “same. you’re all i thought about.” she leaned back, eyes soft. “you smell so good.”

paige’s grin was crooked, the kind of smile that made azzi’s stomach flip. “shut up and kiss me.”

and she did. they kissed right there in the doorway, paige’s hands cradling azzi’s face, thumbs brushing her cheeks like she was memorizing every inch of her. azzi melted into it, let out a quiet sigh that said everything she didn’t have words for. they broke apart, breathless and grinning, foreheads resting together.

“come inside,” azzi whispered, voice warm. she grabbed paige’s hand, pulling her over the threshold.

the weekend slipped around them like a soft blanket. mornings were spent tangled in each other, sharing sleepy smiles over coffee. paige would steal sips from azzi’s mug and smirk when azzi scolded her, pressing kisses to her temple to make her forget she was annoyed.

“you’re such a menace,” azzi teased one morning, but the way her lips curved said she loved it.

“yeah,” paige said, eyes bright. “but i’m your menace.”

afternoons meant simple things: azzi in paige’s clothes, a hoodie that hung low on her hips, the sleeves falling over her hands. she made a show of twirling in the kitchen, teasing paige. “you like this? i might never give it back.”

“you look better in it than i do,” paige admitted, pulling azzi in by the hem of the hoodie and kissing her until they were both flushed and breathless.

they cooked together—or rather, azzi cooked while paige hovered behind her, lips pressing to her shoulder blades, hands warm on her waist. “this is domestic as hell,” paige said, low and teasing in her ear.

“you like it,” azzi said.

“i love it.”

at night, they curled up on the couch, azzi’s head resting on paige’s chest, the glow of a movie playing in the background neither of them really watched. paige’s fingers moved in lazy patterns on azzi’s shoulder, her heartbeat slow and steady.

“i love this,” azzi murmured.

“me too.” paige said, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

but the night that really carved itself into their hearts was the one on the balcony. after a long walk under the stars, the city humming low in the background, they sat on a blanket wrapped around their shoulders, the world hushed around them.

“i’ve been thinking,” paige said, voice soft, breaking the quiet. she twisted a loose thread in the blanket between her fingers. “about the future.”

azzi turned her head, the dim light catching the shine in her eyes. “yeah?”

“yeah.” paige swallowed, her thumb brushing over azzi’s knuckles, slow and deliberate. “i know the league’s coming soon. i know… it’s gonna be wild. but, az… i don’t care about any of it if i don’t have you.”

azzi’s breath caught, but she didn’t look away. “paige…”

“i mean it,” paige said, voice thick. “it’s always been you. since we were kids, since we first stepped on that court together. i want this, not just the basketball, not just the wins. i want you. no matter what.”

the weight of it pressed into the night air, thick and real. azzi blinked back the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

“you know,” she said quietly, her fingers tightening around paige’s hand, “i used to wonder if we’d be able to handle it. all the distance, the schedules… but i don’t wonder anymore.” she leaned in closer, forehead against paige’s. “because i know we’re worth it. and i love you. no matter how far we are, no matter how crazy it gets.”

paige smiled, and it was the kind of smile that could light up the whole city. “promise?”

“promise,” azzi said, and sealed it with a slow, lingering kiss that tasted like certainty.

they stayed there, curled up in the chill night air, their whispered confessions weaving a spell around them. nothing else mattered, not the long months of travel, not the pressure of the next season. just them, two hearts so hopelessly tangled up in each other, both of them knowing they’d choose this love a thousand times over.

“you’re it for me, azzi,” paige whispered once more, lips brushing azzi’s ear. “i don’t care about the rest. as long as i get to come back to you, i’ll always be okay.

and azzi, smiling through tears, whispered it back: “same. always.”

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it was almost 2 a.m. paige and azzi were in new york for some separate brand shoots so they decided to stay in an apartment together. azzi was still editing a brand deal reel on her laptop, cross-legged on the couch in one of paige’s old t-shirts. the light from the screen lit her face soft and pale.

paige walked in wearing just a hoodie and socks, hair wild from sleep, rubbing her eyes. “you still working?”

“just about done,” azzi said, not looking up. “i’m trying to cut this clip so i don’t look like a robot.”

paige grinned and flopped onto the couch beside her. “you could look like a duck waddling and you’d still be the hottest person alive.”

“wow. inspiring.”

“come to bed,” paige whispered, dragging a hand slowly up azzi’s bare thigh. “or i’ll carry you.”

“you won’t.”

“ight bet.”

she moved over azzi in a blur, laptop scooped up and set gently on the coffee table before paige pinned her down against the cushions with a smirk. “you asked for it.”

azzi laughed breathlessly, flushed and breath catching. “paige—”

but paige was already kissing her—slow, deep, her fingers trailing under azzi’s shirt like she was memorizing her. azzi’s hands curled in the back of paige’s hoodie as their laughter turned into gasps. they didn’t stop until the early light crept across the window and their limbs were tangled together under the throw blanket. skin against skin, heartbeat against heartbeat.

“don’t ever leave,” azzi mumbled, half-asleep.

“never,” paige whispered back.

─────────── ౨ৎ ──────────

it started with a missed facetime.

paige was two hours late calling azzi back, something that didn’t usually happen, not without a heads-up, not without a reason. but tonight, everything felt heavy. she was drained from practice, her knee sore again, her mind fogged from back-to-back film and barely enough sleep.

azzi’s name lit up her screen as she finally sank into bed.

5 missed calls. 2 new texts.

are you okay?

paige?

guilt pressed in on her chest. she sighed and called back.

azzi picked up on the third ring. her face filled the screen, tired, eyes guarded. she was in her dorm room, hair pulled up, hoodie too big for her frame. she looked soft and serious, and it made paige’s stomach twist.

“hey,” paige said, trying to smile.

“hey,” azzi echoed, flat.

paige rubbed at her temple. “i’m sorry. today was a mess.”

azzi stayed quiet for a second. “you could’ve said that. a text. something.”

“i know. i just… forgot.” the moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

azzi’s eyebrows lifted, her voice cool. “you forgot?”

“az, i didn’t mean it like that. i meant i got overwhelmed.”

azzi looked away from the camera, the way she did when she was trying not to say something she’d regret. “you’ve been overwhelmed a lot lately.”

“since i’m a super senior people have a lot of expectations and it’s hard for me sometimes, you know that, baby.”

“i’m not asking you for hours of your day,” azzi said, her voice tight now. “just ten minutes. one call. some kind of sign that i still matter even when you’re buried in all of it.”

that hit paige harder than she expected. “of course you matter, what are you even saying?”

“i don’t know,” azzi murmured, eyes still offscreen. “maybe i’m just tired of always waiting for you to make space for me.”

that did it.

paige sat up straighter, heart pounding. “that’s not fair.”

“isn’t it?”

“you think i don’t want to be with you every second? you think i don’t hate the distance just as much as you do?”

azzi’s jaw clenched, voice rising a little. “i think i’m trying, paige. and you’re shutting me out.”

the silence that followed was so loud it rang.

“i can’t do this right now,” paige whispered finally, swallowing hard.

“yeah,” azzi said, just as quietly. “me neither.”

and then she hung up.

three days passed.

three days of scrolling past her name. of typing out messages and deleting them. of paige staying late in the gym even when her legs ached, because thinking too long meant feeling too much. azzi, meanwhile, spent hours in the training room and at team events, never saying much, but always seeming one second from unraveling.

on the fourth night paige couldn’t take it anymore.

she typed.

i hate this.

“i miss you so bad it makes me feel sick.

please call me, baby.

fifteen seconds passed.

then her screen lit up. incoming facetime: azzi💗

she picked up instantly.

azzi’s face appeared in the dim light of her dorm. her eyes were red. she’d been crying. but her voice was soft.

“i’m still mad.”

“you’re allowed,” paige said, voice shaking. “i was an asshole. i get stuck in my own head and i take it out on the person who loves me most. and i hate that i made you feel like you don’t matter, because you matter more than anything.”

azzi wiped at her cheek, but didn’t look away. “i just need to know we’re still in this. even with the distance. even when it’s hard.”

“we are, az,” paige said. “always.”

“you promise?”

paige held up her pinky to the screen. “promise.”

azzi let out a breathy laugh through her tears, eyes crinkling at the edges. “i missed your dumb face.”

“i missed your dumb everything.”

“you’re lucky i love you,” azzi said, wiping her nose.

“i know,” paige grinned. “you gonna yell at me again, or can i tell you all the stuff i’ve been holding in the past three days?”

“depends,” azzi smirked. “how flirty are you feeling?”

“dangerously.”

azzi laughed, the kind that warmed paige through the screen.

they stayed on for hours that night, not trying to fix everything at once, but just finding their way back.

because they couldn’t not.

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azzi had a few days off so she planned a surprise to visit paige.

the door creaked open just past midnight, and paige’s heart nearly burst out of her chest. she’d just finished icing her knee when she turned and saw azzi standing there, duffle bag over her shoulder, grinning wide and tired and perfect.

“surprise,” azzi said softly.

paige dropped the ice pack and ran into her arms so fast, they nearly knocked into the wall behind them.

“how…what are you…azzi!”

“had a few days off. caught the last flight,” azzi murmured into paige’s shoulder, squeezing her so tight it was like she needed to convince herself it was real. “couldn’t go another week without you.” paige said into her hair, holding her just as tightly. “i missed you so bad.”

“you didn’t tell me—”

“i wanted to see your face when you opened the door.”

azzi pulled back just enough to grab paige’s face in both hands. her thumbs brushed over paige’s cheeks, and then their lips crashed together, fast and hungry and messy. it wasn’t soft, not at first, it was urgent. mouths open, breath caught between them, the kind of kiss that says i needed this, i needed you.

“god,” paige groaned, pushing her fingers into paige’s hair. “you’re real. you’re here.”

“i couldn’t wait any longer,” azzi whispered, hands already slipping under paige’s oversized t-shirt, tracing the warm skin of her lower back. “i was losing it without you.”

“same,” paige said, breathless as azzi pushed her gently back toward the bed.

they didn’t talk much after that, they didn’t need to. they moved in a rhythm, slow and full of intention. paige brought azzi to her bed, the dorm room barely lit, the air heavy with quiet need. they lay tangled under the covers, paige stroking her fingers through azzi’s curls, azzi tracing the line of paige’s jaw, both of them memorizing the details all over again.

“you smell like the plane,” paige whispered, nose pressed to azzi’s neck.

“shut up.”

“make me.”

they kissed like they’d been starving—like weeks of distance and stress had built to this one exact second. it wasn’t rushed,it wasn’t messy. it was deep, slow, emotional, and when they broke apart, their foreheads rested together like it hurt to be even an inch apart.

“i missed you so bad it made me sick,” azzi said.

“i know,” paige replied, brushing her thumb under azzi’s eye. “me too.”

they fell into the mattress, limbs tangled, lips pressed together again—deeper, more deliberate. azzi curled her legs around paige’s waist, hands roaming over her back, tracing the familiar muscles through the thin cotton of her hoodie.

paige pulled away just enough to yank the hoodie off, her hair a little wild, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. “you look so good right now,” she murmured, letting her hands roam over azzi’s waist, her ribs, her hips. “you’re driving me insane.”

“you’re not even trying to be subtle,” azzi laughed softly, pulling her shirt off in return, tossing it somewhere behind her.

“i’m not,” paige grinned, dipping down to kiss her collarbone, her shoulder, her throat. “i missed this so much. missed you”

they kissed again, slower this time—but no less intense. paige hovered above her, their bodies pressed together, her hands never still. fingers danced along azzi’s skin, teasing, trailing, pulling little sounds from her that made paige’s breath hitch every time.

“i thought about this every night,” azzi whispered between kisses, nails gently scratching down paige’s back. “how good your hands feel. how safe it feels when you’re wrapped around me.”

“you’re mine,” paige breathed into her ear, her voice lower, more possessive. “every inch of you.”

“then prove it,” azzi whispered back, tugging her close again.

they rolled together, kissing like they couldn’t stop—like time didn’t exist for them. hands explored and mouths tasted and neither of them wanted to come up for air. laughter spilled between the kisses too, and teasing words, and the soft sound of paige whispering “i love you” over and over like a prayer against azzi’s skin.

later, when they finally calmed, wrapped up in the sheets, faces close and bodies flush, azzi let out a long, contented sigh and pressed a kiss to paige’s cheek.

“this was worth every second apart,” she said softly

paige brushed a thumb across azzi’s lower lip, her eyes full of something deep and unshakable. “never again,” she whispered. “i’m staying as close as i can from now on.”

they curled into each other, legs tangled under the blankets, foreheads touching. and even though the world outside kept spinning, in that tiny dorm room, everything else fell away. they talked late into the night, about games and injuries and teammates and everything in between. but more than that, they just were. in each other’s space, in sync, wrapped up in a love that had only grown stronger since they first met.

it wasn’t just a visit. it was proof. proof they could survive anything.

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the gym was quiet except for the steady echo of sneakers on polished hardwood and the rhythmic bounce of a basketball. thick rays of golden summer afternoon sunlight streamed through the high windows, slicing across the court and making the dust in the air glow like flecks of gold.

paige wiped the sweat from her brow with the hem of her tank top, catching azzi’s eyes as she did. she smirked. “you staring again, az?”

azzi didn’t even pretend to look away. she stood at the top of the key, spinning the ball lazily, the neckline of her own shirt damp from their exhausting workout. “you wish. maybe i was just admiring your terrible form.”

“terrible?” paige arched a brow, jogging up to her with a slow grin. “is that what we’re doing today? lying on the court?”

azzi laughed and tossed the ball to her chest. “prove me wrong then.”

“bet.”

they slipped into one-on-one, both of them locked in—no cameras, no noise. just them, like it had been for years now. paige would pivot and azzi was already cutting her off. azzi would fake left and paige’s hand was there, playful, relentless.

paige finally scored, falling back on a smooth step-back jumper that arced high and kissed the net clean. she pointed at azzi, smug. “that’s called muscle memory.”

“that’s called getting lucky,” azzi countered, but her smile gave her away.

they both stood there for a moment, catching their breath, sweat beading down their temples. paige walked over and bumped azzi’s hip with hers. “admit it,” she said. “you love practicing with me.”

“maybe,” azzi said, drawing it out. “maybe i also love how you always smell like fresh laundry after.”

“romantic,” paige deadpanned, reaching out to brush a sweaty curl from azzi’s cheek. “you should write that in a card.”

azzi bit her lip, looking down at paige’s hand still resting lightly on her jaw. “maybe i’ll do something better.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah.” azzi hesitated for a breath, and then looked up, her voice softer. “come on a date with me tonight.”

paige blinked. “wait, you’re asking me?”

“yup,” azzi said, leaning in, that confident smile returning. “i booked it already. dinner’s at seven. dresscode is casual but you should still look hot. for me.”

“you don’t think i always look hot for you?” paige grinned, heart racing in that specific way azzi always made it race—like even after all this time, she still found new ways to make paige fall harder.

“of course you do, honey,” azzi said, brushing their noses together gently. “but i want tonight to be special, just us. i missed being with you like this.”

paige’s smile softened. “yeah. me too.”

they kissed then, warm and slow, just a press of sweat-slick lips and the sun painting long shadows around them. paige’s hands settled at azzi’s waist, anchoring her, while azzi curled her fingers around the back of paige’s neck, holding her in place like she never wanted her to leave.

and for a while, they didn’t move. not until the sound of a ball rolling toward them reminded them where they were. they broke apart reluctantly, but their hands stayed laced.

“i’m not changing,” paige said, eyes still half-lidded and dreamy. “you’re taking me to dinner like this.”

“then you’re buying dessert,” azzi said, laughing as she pulled her toward the locker room.

“you’re my dessert,” paige muttered under her breath, smug.

azzi rolled her eyes, but her blush betrayed her. “i heard that.”

“i wanted you to.”

the summer air outside their place was thick with heat and the scent of jasmine from a candle they lit earlier. golden hour melted over the city touching the edges of every rooftop, every passing car, every heartbeat. inside, the apartment buzzed with soft music and the low buzz of a fan spinning in the corner.

paige sat on the edge of the bed, lacing her sneakers, already dressed in a clean white tee and soft light green cargos that fit her just right. her hair was still damp from the quick shower she’d taken after their workout, strands curling gently against her forehead. after she sprayed herself with a valentino perfume that azzi loved so much, she looked up from tying the knot on her laces and froze.

“baby,” she whispered.

azzi stood by the closet mirror in a soft, sleeveless olive green dress that clung to her skin like it had been painted on—hugged every line of her body, the neckline just low enough, the hem dancing mid-thigh. her curls were slicked back in a ponytail, silver hoops glistening and lip gloss shimmering with a soft sheen.

“what?” azzi asked innocently, checking her makeup. “is it too much?”

“too much?” paige stood, walked up behind her, their reflections now side by side. she placed her hands on azzi’s hips and leaned in close, mouth brushing azzi’s ear. “you’re gonna make us late. i won’t even make it out the door.”

azzi smiled, cheeks warming, but her eyes didn’t leave the mirror. “then maybe i’ll change.”

paige spun her gently to face her. “you’ll do no such thing.” she kissed her once, then again, a little deeper. “you’re perfect. dangerously so.”

azzi grinned against her lips, looping her arms around paige’s neck. “then let’s go before you ruin my dress.”

they were tucked into a corner booth of a quiet italian place—brick walls lined with flickering candles, ivy creeping up the edges of the windows, a warm orange glow spilling over the wine glasses between them. the place buzzed softly with couples talking low, clinking glasses, the smell of rosemary and garlic floating through the air.

paige was already halfway through a breadstick, watching azzi try to decide between two pastas. “you’ve looked at that menu for fifteen minutes,” she teased, dipping the bread into olive oil.

“because they both sound good and i don’t want to regret it,” azzi pouted, finally settling on the risotto—until the food came, and she changed her mind immediately.

“can we switch?” she asked sweetly, eyes wide.

paige blinked at her plate of linguine. “you already started yours.”

“please?” azzi leaned across the table, brushed paige’s hand with her fingers, lips curling just slightly. “you love me.”

paige sighed dramatically but swapped plates. “you’re lucky you’re my princess.”

“i know.” azzi forked into the pasta happily. “and i knew this one was better.”

“then why didn’t you order it?”

“keeps things interesting.” azzi said with a shrug.

they fell into that easy rhythm—slow bites between laughter and eye contact that lingered just a little too long. paige watched azzi twirl pasta, lips glossed and glowing, cheeks slightly flushed from the wine and the warmth.

at one point, azzi ran her foot along paige’s calf under the table.

“azzi,” paige warned, her voice already lower.

“what?” azzi blinked, teasing. “i’m just stretching.”

“mmm sure you are,” paige leaned in, fingers tracing the rim of her wine glass. “keep doing that and i’m gonna pull you into the bathroom and make sure you know what stretching really feels like.”

azzi’s breath caught, her gaze faltering for the briefest second. “you wouldn’t.”

“try me,” paige said, smirking.

azzi bit her lip, clearly enjoying the tension, the game, how close they always hovered to that edge. she reached across and let her hand settle on paige’s knee, thumb brushing slowly back and forth.

“you make it really hard to focus on my food,” azzi murmured, eyes darkening just enough.

“then don’t,” paige said simply. “focus on me.”

outside, night had finally fallen. fairy lights wrapped around the restaurant’s small patio fence, casting soft glows along the sidewalk. and inside, in that quiet booth, paige and azzi leaned closer and closer, until their knees touched and their hands were tangled between plates, and all that existed was each other.

the car was quiet but full with tension. azzi sat in the passenger seat, her legs crossed, one heel dangling off her foot as she scrolled through the music. paige had one hand on the wheel, the other…well, the other kept drifting. fingertips skimming over azzi’s bare thigh. light at first, a brush. a graze. but she didn’t stop.

“paige,” azzi warned softly, voice already shifting—breathier, lower, laced with need. “you’re gonna get us killed.”

“i’m fine,” paige murmured, eyes on the road, but her mouth curved into a smile. her fingers traced higher, pressing just under the hem of the dress. “you just looked too good tonight. it’s your fault.”

“you’ve been touching me all night.”

“don’t pretend you don’t get off on me needing you this bad.” paige said, glancing over for just a second, enough to meet azzi’s eyes.

azzi bit her lip, thighs shifting under paige’s hand, chasing more contact without even realizing it. “pull over.”

“we’re five minutes from home.”

“then drive faster,” azzi said, her voice a near-whimper.

the door barely had time to close behind them before azzi spun, grabbing paige’s shirt and pulling her into a hard, desperate kiss. the kind that knocked the air from both of their lungs. hands all over—paige’s gripping azzi’s hips, azzi’s nails already sliding under the hem of her shirt, raking over her stomach.

“bedroom,” paige growled against her lips, her voice a low command that sent a shiver down azzi’s spine. azzi nodded breathlessly, fingers fisting in the fabric of paige’s shirt, and let paige steer her down the hall.

the bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, the air heavy with anticipation. paige paused, her eyes flicking to the mirror across from the bed, then back to azzi with a smirk.

“sit,” she ordered, her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned, pulling azzi with her until they were both lying on the bed. azzi found herself pressed against paige’s back, her breath catching as she realized they were facing the full-length mirror on the wall.

“look at us,” paige murmured, leaning to brush her lips over azzi’s neck. “look how perfect you are.”

azzi’s cheeks flushed as she glanced at the mirror, seeing their reflections intertwined. paige’s blonde hair contrasted sharply with azzi’s dark curls, their bodies pressed together in a way that felt both intimate and raw. paige’s gaze was hot and possessive, her hands sliding down azzi’s arms, then back up to toy with her dress.

“i love you so fucking much.” paige whispered, her breath hot against azzi’s skin as she began to kiss her way down her neck. azzi gasped softly, her hands tangling in paige’s hair as she tilted her head back, exposing more of her neck. paige’s lips left a trail of hickeys, marking azzi as hers, and azzi couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped her lips.

“paige…” she breathed, her voice trembling with need.

“shh,” paige murmured, her hands roaming over azzi’s body, tracing the curves of her breasts, the dip of her waist. “i got you.”

azzi’s eyes fluttered closed as paige’s touch became more insistent, her fingers teasing the hem of azzi’s dress. but before she could pull it off, azzi grabbed her wrist, her voice urgent. “i need you, paige. now.”

“this dress is dangerous,” paige muttered, yanking it up.

“you’ve said that like three times,” azzi whispered.

“and i’ll say it again. now take it off.” paige whispered, a single word that had azzi’s pulse stuttering.

azzi didn’t hesitate. she shimmied out of the dress, baring smooth skin to paige’s greedy hands.

paige’s palms were warm, firm, gliding over her shoulders, down her arms, then up again to cup her jaw. she tilted azzi’s head slightly, lips brushing her ear. “keep your eyes on the mirror, baby. i want you to see how good you look for me.”

azzi swallowed, a soft sound escaping her as paige’s hands slid down to her waist, thumbs tracing teasing circles. she could see it all in the mirror—paige behind her, tall and steady, azzi’s own body leaning back into her touch, lips parted in a silent plea.

“you’re so pretty,” paige murmured, fingers slipping just under the edge of azzi’s bra, teasing the skin there. “and so damn responsive.”

azzi whimpered, hips shifting instinctively, seeking more. paige just chuckled, the sound warm and low. “be patient, mama.” she said, even as her hands drifted lower, knuckles brushing the tops of azzi’s thighs.

“paige,” azzi breathed, her voice shaky, needy. paige met her eyes in the mirror, a wicked glint in her gaze.

“eyes on me,” she ordered softly, her hands slipping around to undo the clasp of azzi’s bra, letting it fall away. “don’t look away.”

azzi bit her lip, her breath quickening as paige’s hands explored—fingers skimming up her stomach, over the soft swell of her breasts, teasing her nipples with feather-light touches that had her squirming. in the mirror, she could see it all: the way her own body arched into paige’s touch, the possessive look in paige’s eyes, the soft flush spreading across her skin.

paige’s lips found her neck, sucking a mark just below her ear. “so perfect,” she murmured, her hands sliding lower, fingertips tracing the edge of azzi’s panties. “so mine.”

azzi let out a shaky moan, her hips lifting in silent plea. paige’s touch grew more insistent, one hand pressing azzi’s hips down while the other teased, each brush of her fingertips sending sparks through azzi’s veins.

“paige, please,” azzi gasped, her voice ragged. paige’s eyes met hers in the mirror, and she smiled—a soft, tender smile that made azzi’s chest ache.

“look at yourself,” paige said, her voice a soft command. “look how gorgeous you are like this. i want you to see everything i’m giving you.”

azzi’s eyes locked onto her reflection, and she watched as paige’s fingers moved rhythmically, her touch sending waves of pleasure through her body. paige’s other hand moved to azzi’s clit, rubbing it in slow, circular motions, and azzi’s breath hitched. “oh god…” she moaned, her head falling back against paige’s shoulder.

“that’s it,” paige murmured, her lips brushing against azzi’s ear. “let it build. i’ve got you.” azzi’s moans grew louder, her body arching into paige’s touch as the pleasure intensified. she could feel her orgasm building, a coil tightening in her core, and she knew she was close. her moans were loud, unrestrained, and she froze, her eyes widening in panic.

paige seemed to sense her hesitation, her hand moving swiftly to azzi’s throat, holding her gently but firmly. she whispered, her voice commanding. “mhmm let me hear you, cum for me, princess.”

azzi’s breath caught, her eyes locked with paige’s in the mirror, each movement pushing azzi closer to the edge. her reflection was flushed, lips parted, eyes wide and wild.

“stay with me,” paige murmured, her breath warm against azzi’s neck. “let me see you come apart.”

azzi’s hands gripped the edge of the bed, her body trembling, gasps turning into broken moans as paige pushed her higher, harder, until she was right there—on the cusp, falling, her name a desperate cry on azzi’s lips.

azzi collapsed back against paige’s chest, breath ragged, body trembling. paige held her close, one hand stroking her hair, the other rubbing soft circles into her hip. the pressure of paige’s hand on her throat, combined with the relentless rhythm of her fingers, sent azzi over the edge. her body trembled as she climaxed, her moans muffled but no less intense. she watched herself in the mirror, her face flushed, her eyes closed in ecstasy, and she felt a deep connection to paige, to this moment.

when she finally came, it was with her eyes locked on paige’s in the mirror, the world narrowing to just them—the heat of paige’s touch, the possessive grip of her hands, the soft words she murmured over and over:

i’ve got you. you’re mine. so beautiful.

as her orgasm subsided, azzi collapsed against paige, her breath ragged. paige’s hand released her throat, and she turned azzi to face her, kissing her softly, tenderly. “you’re incredible,” azzi murmured, her fingers tracing paige’s cheek.

“good girl,” she whispered, kissing azzi’s temple. “you did so good.”

azzi pulled back just enough to whisper, “my turn.” her voice was soft but laced with hunger, her eyes dark and steady. paige swallowed, her heart thundering in her chest at the promise in those two words.

paige let azzi guide her back onto the bed, her shoulders sinking into the mattress as azzi leaned over paige, her hands were already working at paige’s shirt, fingers quick and eager, pushing it up and over her head. paige let her, skin prickling under azzi’s touch, breath hitching as azzi’s fingertips traced along the edge of her bra.

azzi paused, sitting back just enough to look down at her, her lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “you’re so beautiful like this,” she said, her voice husky. paige felt her pulse skip at the heat in azzi’s gaze, at the way she looked at her like she was something to be worshipped. azzi leaned down, pressing soft kisses to the hollow of paige’s throat, then lower, teeth grazing lightly against her collarbone. paige let out a shaky breath, her hands coming up to tangle in azzi’s hair, needing something to hold onto as azzi’s mouth mapped a slow, deliberate path over her skin.

“azzi,” paige murmured, her voice rough with need. azzi just smiled against her chest, her breath warm and teasing.

“shh,” she whispered. “lemme take care of you.”

her hands slid lower, skimming over the curve of paige’s waist, thumbs pressing into her hips with a possessive firmness. she kissed her way lower, every brush of her lips sending a spark through paige’s veins, until paige was arching up into her touch, a low moan slipping out.

azzi smiled, her shyness returning slightly, but she nodded, determined to return the favor. she shifted positions, kneeling between paige’s legs as paige lay back on the bed. paige’s eyes darkened with desire as azzi’s hands moved to her boxers, pulling them off slowly, her fingers brushing against paige’s bare skin.

azzi took her time, every movement deliberate, every touch electric. she pulled back just enough to look up at paige, her eyes dark and warm. “look at me,” she said softly, her hands resting on paige’s thighs. “i want you to watch me.”

paige met her gaze, her breath coming in shallow gasps as azzi’s fingers began teasing along the inside of her thighs. azzi leaned in, her mouth finding the sensitive skin at paige’s hip, pressing kisses that made paige’s breath catch and her back arch off the bed. azzi’s hands were sure and confident, her touch both tender and demanding. she moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, drawing out every gasp, every tremor. paige let herself sink into it, her hands fisting in the sheets, her body alive under azzi’s touch.

“take your time,” paige said, her voice low and inviting. azzi leaned forward, her lips pressing kisses along paige’s thighs, her breath teasing her core. paige let out a soft gasp as azzi’s tongue finally made contact, her touch gentle but purposeful. “oh shit—fuck” she moaned, her hands tangling in azzi’s hair.

azzi’s tongue moved slowly, savoring every inch of paige’s body. she listened to paige’s guidance, her moans, her whispered encouragement, and she felt a surge of pride as paige’s pleasure became her own. paige’s hands gripped the sheets, her body arching off the bed as azzi’s mouth worked its magic. “that’s it, baby,” paige breathed. “don’t stop.”

azzi didn’t stop. she continued until paige’s body shook with her orgasm, her cries of pleasure filling the room. when paige finally tipped over the edge, it was with a soft cry, her eyes locked on azzi’s as pleasure pulsed through her in waves. azzi held her through it, her touch gentle, her mouth soft against her skin. as paige’s breathing slowed, azzi leaned up, kissing her softly, their lips meeting in a tender embrace. “i love you,” paige whispered, her eyes locked on azzi’s.

“i love you too,” azzi replied, her voice soft but sure.

after, azzi climbed back up, kissing her slow and deep, her hands cradling paige’s face. paige let out a shaky breath, her arms wrapping around azzi’s waist, pulling her close.

“you’re incredible,” paige murmured, her voice still husky with the remnants of her climax.

azzi just smiled, pressing her forehead to paige’s. “you’re mine,” she whispered back, her lips brushing against paige’s with each word.

paige let out a soft laugh, breathless and content, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on azzi’s back. “always.”

they lost themselves in each other—fast, deep, and burning. every kiss, every breath, every shift of hips and whispered word said one thing louder than anything else:

i missed you. i need you. i love you.

the room smelled like sweat and something warm, alive. azzi lay stretched across paige’s chest now, both of them sunk into the cushions, skin damp, bodies humming. paige traced lazy circles along azzi’s spine. azzi nuzzled into her neck, kissed her collarbone just because.

“if you keep dressing like that,” paige mumbled, “we’re never making it out in public again.”

azzi laughed sleepily. “you love it.”

“i love you.”

azzi smiled, eyes fluttering shut, hand resting over paige’s heart. “i love you more.”

“impossible,” paige whispered. “but you’re welcome to try and prove it again tomorrow.”

azzi just sighed, content, letting herself sink even deeper into paige’s arms.

the years sped by in snapshots, each one cementing their bond, shaping the women they were becoming. draft day was getting closer, the moment they had worked for, dreamed about, and fought to reach.

it all started during usa basketball u16 tryouts. the air was dry, thin, and buzzing with nerves. paige walked into the gym with that calm confidence, the kind that made heads turn. she had her bag slung over one shoulder, eyes scanning the courts like she already knew she belonged. and she did.

azzi was already shooting on one of the side baskets, locked in. her jumper was smooth. too smooth. paige noticed immediately, not because she was flashy, but because every shot looked like it had been taken a thousand times. it reminded paige of herself.

they were put on the same team for the first scrimmage. it didn’t take more than five possessions for them to start reading each other like a book. no-look passes, perfectly timed cuts, backdoor reads. they played like they had grown up on the same block, like they had been playing together for years. by the end of practice, coaches were raising eyebrows. one of them even said, “those two play like they’ve got some type of telepathy.”

afterward, sweaty and still catching their breath, paige tossed a water bottle over to azzi. “you hoop like you’re in the league already,” she said, half-grinning.

azzi laughed. “you too. i was trying to keep up.”

they sat side by side on the bench, shoulders brushing, not really talking for a few minutes. just existing in the same space. their chemistry on the court had spilled off of it in the quietest, most natural way.

that week was long. drills, scrimmages, meetings, but they always found each other. not in a forced way. it just happened. and they were always laughing and leaning into each other like they’d found something rare and didn’t want to let go. it wasn’t romantic back then. it was just easy. it was trust. and maybe a little awe.

on the last night, before cuts, they sat outside the dorms under a flickering streetlamp. paige had her knees pulled to her chest. azzi was stretched out next to her, staring at the stars.

“no matter what happens tomorrow,” azzi said, “i’m really glad we met.”

paige looked over. her heart thumped, just once, a little harder than usual. “same. i think we’re gonna see a lot of each other in the future.”

and they would—just not in the ways they imagined.

─────────── ౨ৎ ──────────

paige and azzi sat side by side on the worn leather couch, the hum of new york city buzzing faintly beyond the windows. it was quiet here, a calm pause in the storm of their lives.

“can you believe it?” paige whispered, tracing the edge of a photo where they both smiled. “four years. it feels like yesterday we were just two kids figuring everything out.”

azzi’s eyes glistened with a mixture of pride and nostalgia. “yeah. and look at us now. from those early days of barely talking after i committed, to this… this crazy beautiful life we’ve built.” she reached for paige’s hand, squeezing it gently. “i’m so proud of us. of you.”

paige smiled, leaning into the touch. “me too. all the late nights, the injuries, the pressure, you were always my anchor. the reason i kept going.”

they sat in silence, the weight of their shared memories settling around them. games won and lost, championships fought for, setbacks faced, and breakthroughs celebrated. four years of growth on and off the court. four years of building a love that only grew stronger through every challenge.

“the draft’s tomorrow,” azzi said softly, breaking the quiet. “i keep thinking about what comes next. new city, new teams… what if we get separated?”

paige shook her head firmly, eyes locking on azzi’s. “we won’t. no matter what happens, we’re in this together—none of it matters if we have each other.”

azzi smiled through the tears gathering again. “promise?”

“promise,” paige whispered, pulling her close.

the moment stretched, filled with unspoken vows and fierce love—the kind that no draft pick or city could ever touch.

[cakypa120]

Ok Billy keeps coming back au.

Seeing all those people, I just imagine everyone are careful and sad now, so imagine that either this is the first time Billy didn't got killed, or the first time someone who still haven't killed Billy killed him.

I'm don't want to lie I hope he survives, but everything you post says that he won't

Billy sighs. Everyone is tiptoeing around him. Which he expected anyway. Billy doesn't blame them. He just.... He wishes they'd stop being so careful with him.

And then Signal shows up at the Watchtower. Gotham's daytime vigilante. Billy had only seen him three times, since he usually died before Duke joined the Batfamily. Now was the perfect opportunity to meet him.

Marvel: Hello! I'm Captain Marvel! You're Signal, right? Gotham's daytime hero? Nice to meet you!

Signal: Nice to meet you too.

They shake hands. Marvel laughs loudly, although he feels Batman's piercing gaze, as always, watching his brood like a hawk.

Marvel: Are you here on business? Or just annoying your father like your brothers and sisters?

Signal: He is not my father, I don't know where you got that idea from. And I am here to familiarize myself with the internal affairs of the League, since I will be more accessible during the day, unlike Batman.

Marvel: I see. Then let's go, I will show you our cafeteria, where Batdaddy takes coffee as dark as his soul to get energy to suck the strength out of people.

Billy takes Duke to the cafeteria, ignoring the boy's complaints and an irritated Batman. In the end, Billy shows Duke everything, explaining everything in detail, sometimes telling funny stories about Bruce and others from the Bat Clan.

Duke eventually returns to Gotham, and Billy and Bruce see him off. After Duke leaves, Bruce asks the expected question.

Batman: Has he ever...?

Marvel: No. I was dying before he showed up in your family. Well, it's time to go on duty.

Duke doesn't know how to react to this smiling hero.

Duke: Dick, how do you like Captain Marvel?

Dick: A good hero, a wonderful person, has seen too much shit in his entire life.

Duke: He seems too cheerful to me.

Dick: ...... Believe me, if he weren't like that, then... a lot would have gone wrong.

Duke was a breath of fresh air in Billy's life. Ignorance was a blessing. No one wanted to enlighten Duke about what Marvel had to endure. And for that, Billy was grateful. Duke was the only one who talked to him normally, without any guilty looks or awkward silences. Billy liked talking to him. They even got to know each other better.

And then comes the day when the sword of Damocles falls on Billy.

The mission went wrong. Billy and Duke are sealed in an ancient seal that requires a human sacrifice. Billy can't break the seal, because it is too powerful. Created from the suffering of an entire people, created to contain the Gods. Even as the Champion of Magic, he will not be able to break this seal.

Marvel: The seal requires a sacrifice. A human sacrifice.

Duke: Like blood or hair? An arm? A leg?

Marvel: No. You have to kill a person and put it on this seal. The sacrifice will be accepted, and a portal will open through which you can exit.

Duke: What?

Marvel: Magic based on human suffering always requires a sacrifice. This seal is designed to contain God. And this seal is very ancient. We better follow the rules.

Duke: That means one of us will have to die!

Marvel: Yes. Unfortunately. But better than both of us rotting in this prison.

Duke: Maybe we can get help? Well, on the other side! And we will both stay alive!

Marvel: I understand your hope. But... A sacrifice will still be needed. From this side, from that side... It doesn't matter. Someone has to die.

Duke: No! We can't just give up! We have to fight! You have the wisdom of Solomon!

Marvel: The Seal is poisoning you. You're human. You won't last long.

Duke: I'll hold out. I'll survive. We'll be rescued.

Marvel: Duke, I know you believe, and that's good.

Duke: How do you know my name?

Marvel: I know many things. And I know that only one of us will leave this place. And that one will be you.

Marvel materializes a dagger, the blade of which was made of eternium. Duke flinches when Marvel hands him the dagger.

Marvel: It's one of the few things that can kill me.

Duke: No...

Marvel: I know it's hard, but... It's necessary. Sometimes we have to make difficult decisions.

Duke: No! No! No! What are you talking about?!

Marvel: Signal...

Duke: Why are you giving up on life so easily?! You have a family! Friends!! A city that loves you! Are you really going to leave them because of me!? I'm just a newbie! My death won't matter to anyone.

Marvel: *grabs Duke by the shoulders* Don't talk about yourself like that! You're so talented and kind! You'll become a great hero! And you also have family and friends who are looking for you, hoping that you'll come back alive.

Duke: What about you? What about your family?

Marvel: My family... My parents are dead, and my sister... she knows the risks I take by becoming a hero. She understands. The League will understand, too. They won't be mad at you. Trust me. They won't.

Duke: Are you really just going to give up?

Marvel: Maybe. Better me than you. You have to live, Duke. You have your whole life ahead of you, and I'm an old man.

Marvel places the dagger in Duke's hand. Duke's lips tremble. Billy looks at the seal and stands in the middle. He turns and looks at Duke. Billy spreads his arms out to the sides, a bright smile on his face.

Marvel: One blow will do.

Duke:.....

His hands were shaking, holding the heavy dagger. He looks at Marvel, who smiled brightly and spread his arms out to the sides. As if inviting him for a hug. Duke picks up the dagger. He closes his eyes. He has to do this. He has to. But he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to!

Duke takes a deep breath and runs. The dagger pierces the flesh, and Duke feels the warmth of Marvel's body. He slowly opens his eyes and looks at where it struck. Golden blood flowed from the wound. Slowly, the gold turned red. Duke froze, his body stopped obeying him.

Warm hands take his hands and tug. The dagger leaves the body with some kind of sound that Duke cannot understand. A few moments later, Marvel falls to his knees, and Duke continues to stand and stare blankly into space. Marvel's voice breaks him out of this strange trance.

Marvel: You did well, Duke. Great...work...

Marvel lurches to the side and falls. Blood soaks into the seal. The seal lights up brightly and Duke finds himself in the woods. He blinks. Where is Marvel? Wasn't he supposed to come back with him? He needs to be buried, right? Marvel deserves peace. Maybe if Duke searches, he can find Marvel? He's probably nearby. He wanders through the woods, looking for Marvel's body. He doesn't know how much time has passed.

He hears his name being called. But who is calling him? Someone is hugging him. Suddenly, Duke becomes aware of his surroundings. Bruce is hugging him, and Superman, Damian, and Flash are standing next to him. And their faces are sad.

Duke: I killed him... I killed him... I killed... killed... him...

The dagger falls out of his hand. Why was he even holding that abomination? His legs give way and he falls to the ground. Bruce follows him. Duke continued to whisper, "I killed him." Bruce stroked his back and whispered that it wasn't his fault. Duke feels tears, he screams, hugging himself. Before his eyes, again and again, is Marvel's corpse, with a peaceful smile frozen on his face. Bruce hugs him tighter, as if trying to hide Duke from all the pain, from everything that happened. Duke no longer screams, he cries quietly, burying his face in the man's armor.

Duke: I...

Bruce: It's not your fault.

Duke: He...

Bruce: It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault.

Duke presses himself closer to Bruce. Bruce continues to hug him. Duke just hoped that Marvel had found the peace he deserved.

In another universe, a newborn took his first breath.

[strawbairicake]

kiss, kiss, fall in love! oh wait-! -various hsr characters x reader

synopsis: playing the pocky game with your boyfriend! that’s it, send tweet. 

warnings: uh, none? a mildly suggestive line in a couple of parts that i didn’t think were suggestive, but what do i know (ratio’s part in particular, maybe phainon’s part too but probs not lol). uh, other than that, idk if my beginner/novice writing counts as a warning. 

word count: 1.1k (dear god h o w… it’s almost as long as my ratio fic…)

author’s note: moze and ratio’s parts are much longer than the other two, i’m sorry (biased cause they’re my faves and there’s not enough written abt them imo!)! the inspiration was there and then lost if you catch my drift! T_T anyway, idk how to write kiss scenes at all other than like a peck on the lips, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right… right? hope you enjoy regardless! <3

taglist: @sqgeism, @vyyper, @your-sleeparalysisdem0n, @cmiru, @unriding, @sheyfu, @zoieru, + @m1ckeyb3rry! let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 

Moze: 

you truly don’t know how you ended up convincing Moze to take a few minutes to play this game with you. but he was just glad it was in the confines of your shared home where Feixiao and Jiaoqiu couldn’t see and make fun of him. so here you were, sitting on the couch, a stick of pocky in your mouth, as you waved Moze over with your hand. you were so excited, it made Moze almost smile unconsciously. so he sat on the couch in front of you, watching almost aimlessly as you took the stick of the sweet snack out of your mouth and began explaining the game to him. 

“basically the person who breaks the stick first loses. i think the goal is to get as close as possible without breaking the stick. or it might be to kiss someone, i’m not even sure at this point.” you said. 

and thus, the game began. Moze could read your body language well. you were excited and nervous, an outcome he wasn’t expecting. as you both put the end of the stick in your mouths, you ease closer and closer together. closer and closer until—

snap! you broke the stick before he could kiss you! 

“one more time,” he says after you break the stick of pocky for the third time. this time, he thinks, i need to kiss you.

and as you break the stick for the fourth time, you barely feel Moze’s hand gently cup the back of your head as he leans impossibly forward and kisses you so gently on the lips. he pulls away before you can reciprocate properly, but he notices your flushed state and leans in again to press a kiss to your forehead before sneaking off to the kitchen to make dinner. 

“hey, wait up!�� 

Dr. Ratio:

how you managed to get him to play the game with you is the result of you playfully going “guess I’ll play with Aventurine instead” and your boyfriend was not impressed with the idea of that, so he begrudgingly decided to play the pocky game with you. so here you sat, on his massive couch in your home office, staring at each other (lovingly?) as you explain the rules of the game.

 as you explain, you hardly notice the way your boyfriend is moving impossibly closer to you. he’s so interested in the way you talk, his eyes are fixated on your lips the entire time you explain the rules of the game. but it’s whatever, right? surely he was paying attention… right? spoiler alert: he was not paying attention to the rules and broke the stick before you would even be close to being done with the pocky. 

but bless your heart, you were so understanding, split the broken stick in half, handed the other half to him, and ate it before bringing out another stick from the pack. so surely sixth time’s the charm!

 you both start from one end of the stick and slowly inch your way forward towards each other. this time, you’re closer to the middle of the stick. before you can pull away, Veritas surprises himself (and you) and pulls you closer so that your lips briefly touch. the way he kisses is sweet and gentle, greatly contrasting to what others think about him. you kiss back just as gently, a bit hesitant, but the thought and effort is there.

 you both pull away after a few seconds, which felt like forever. when you look up at your partner, you can’t help but notice the smile on his face and slightly flushed cheeks. he brings your hand to his lips and kisses the inside of your wrist before looking at you again. 

“if you so much as try to convince the damned gambler to play this game with you, it would be a shame to learn the consequences of what may happen. understood?” 

and holy shit. what a curveball- sweet one moment, possessive the next. however, you know he’s mostly bark and no bite, but you indulge him and nod before leaning in and kissing him again, smiling into the kiss.

Aventurine:

“and what do i get if i win, love?” Aventurine asks as you finish explaining the rules of the game. 

“you get to kiss me! is that not a good enough reward?” you retort and start pouting playfully. Aventurine chuckles at your response and faux pout. gods, you were so cute and easy to make (playfully) mad. Aventurine watches your facial features and body language as you nervously look at him before fiddling with the pocky box. you carefully pull a stick of pocky out of the pack, mindful as to not break it. you put one end of it in your mouth and motion your boyfriend to do the same with the other end of the stick. He indulges in your silly request, both of you nibbling closer to the middle of the stick. Aventurine keeps his eyes trained on your expression, waiting for you to display any signs of discomfort, if you are uncomfortable. he puts a hand on your thigh and rubs small circles on the flesh before reaching the middle of the stick and pressing a featherlight kiss to your lips before swiftly pulling away. he notices the slight puzzlement in your face as he pulls away, so he decides to compromise and decides to press multiple kisses to your face until he sees the smile return to your face. 

“Aven, stop!” you whine. 

“Apologies, dear, you looked so sad that you lost. I had to make it better.” he winks at you. little did he know, you lost on purpose- you couldn't help it! he unknowingly makes you nervous sometimes, but not in the bad way, if that makes sense. But all things considered, it was very sweet of him to be mindful of your feelings. he’s always been so considerate of you- it makes you wonder just a bit. 

Phainon: 

If Phainon was an animal, he would be a dog. Why, you may ask? His imaginary tail is wagging and he is getting happier and more excited as you explain the rules of the game to him. he’s so excited, it’s quite endearing. as you grab a stick of pocky from its pack, you look up at Phainon and notice the playful glint in his eyes. uh oh, you thought, he’s scheming something. But that didn’t matter right now. all that matters is that you two have fun. so as you both nibble on the opposite ends of the pocky, you don’t realize Phainon’s hand moving to lovingly caress your cheek. you don’t think anything of it and lean into his hand slightly. you don’t notice as you break the stick of pocky and Phainon proceeds to kiss you before quickly breaking off the kiss. 

“Phainon?” you ask as you look at him, he kisses your forehead and smiles at you lovingly. 

“Let’s do something else, like make a cake or something!” he replies. 

you notice the flushed look on his face and how his ears are tinted pink. you totally got him good.

©2025 strawbairicake. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

[kjiscrawlingbackformore]

Bullshit

Mari Ibarra x Reader (some brief Nat x reader)

Summary: Mari hates how close you’ve gotten to Natalie.

A/N: This is just a lil one shot for my girl Mari. 😔 love you forever angel💔

It was fucking cold. Your hands were buried in the pockets of your jean jacket. And it wasn’t doing anything for you. You groaned, you were from Florida…Hollywood, Florida.

You used to joke about not being built for the winter. Like the cold. But when you were thrust into Wiskayok, New Jersey, it was something that became a fact. And the butt end of a running joke amongst your friends.

You would rather die than endure the cold.

And this is how you knew God was a comedian. Because. What. The Hell. A plane crash? A plane crash WHERE? Where the hell were you? The woods of fucking Antartica? You started calling this shithole Narnia. The way it felt like the white fucking witch turned the place into an ice palace.

More than that. You didn’t even like soccer. Never had. You just joined the damn team because of Mari. She was your closest friend at Wiskayok. You transferred there at the end of Sophomore year. Your dad got a promotion, had to move. You did this every three years, so it wasn’t necessarily new.

The idea of packing up and leaving. Never placing roots. But you started memorizing the places you lived. It made you feel like a local quicker, easier to adapt. If you start to get good with directions, you’ll pretend you’ve been there longer than you have. It makes being there bearable, makes leaving more memorable.

You had it down to a science. You didn’t make too many friends, one or two. Easier to say goodbye to when there's not a lot. Maybe a fling here or there, no big loves. That would fuck you up. And you needed easy.

It all needed to be easy to navigate. When you told Mari this drunk at a party in the corner of some guy’s kitchen. She gave you this look. Like you were just speaking in a different language. And as quickly as you finished, she scoffed big and loud.

“You are fucking crazy, that’s like…I don’t know…sad as shit?” She says, taking a sip. “I was on board with all of that until the no big loves part. Love is like the whole point.”

You roll your eyes, “Love is the whole point?” You repeat teasing, “What are you, Celine Dion?”

“Shut up! You know what I mean. You just said the most miserable nonsense. Like what happens if you fall in love with someone? What then?”

“I don’t fall in love with people.”

“Bullshit.”

“What?”

“That’s bullshit. Everyone has fallen in love.”

“Not me.”

Mari leaned in closer to your face. Eyes are intense and searching. You feel heat rush to your face. You shift away, but she mirrors it by moving closer until she is a breath away from you. Eyes scanning your face like she was trying to find something.

“Mari?”

Her eyes flit to your lips, and you are starting to wonder if the alcohol from the night is beginning to kick in. She licks her lips, and for a split second, you’re wondering…what would it be like to kiss her. Are her lips soft? They look soft. Would she enjoy it…if we kissed? Has…has Mari always been this pretty? Your eyes are now locked on her lips, and Mari notices and breaks out into a wide smile.

“Buuuullshiiiiiit.” She slurs, before leaning in to kiss you. She misses your lips and lands on the corner of your mouth.

A testament to how drunk she is. And with the way your heart is racing out of your chest at the small action, maybe you are too. You pull away, chuckling, your hands on both sides of her face. Giving her a chance to back out. Or come to her sense.

Instead, she is pouting, “Wait one….second. Don’t move.”

She tries again, this time kissing you firmly on your lips. With intention. Her hands are on your shoulders to help steady her. She tastes of cheap beer and smoke. And from the way she bites your lip and pulls you close, you know she won’t remember this. She’s kissing you too passionately, too intensely, too sloppily, for it to be conscious.

But you know you will remember. Fuck. The way your stomach is knotted inside you, the way you can still smell the faintest whiff of her cherry bomb perfume. The way she is kissing you like you’re going to die tomorrow.

You kissed her back, hard and with hunger. Letting yourself get lost in someone you considered safe-ish. Safe enough to befriend and share your thoughts unfiltered. Someone who knew you relatively the best in this small town.

Yeah, you remembered that kiss.

Mari did not.

Which was okay. Because, quite frankly…you didn't know what to do with a kiss like that. A kiss that you kept thinking about way too often. A kiss that would often make your eyes unconsciously flicker to her lips when she was ranting about something stupid. A kiss that made you unfortunately puddy in her hands to all her damn whims.

Including trying out for that fucking soccer team.

You stood in the cold, watching all those damn assholes you called your teammates do their chores. Or try to get warm, or do whatever you do in this hell hole.

Irony was you called Wiskayok a hell hole. Like often. Your mom would give you a pointed look whenever you said hell because of it. Now it was like fucking paradise in your mind.

Your hands shoved into your jacket, eyes flickering to the sky. The snow floated down like it was magic. And when you were little, you used to think it was.

Now it felt like a curse.

Winter was like the impending death count starting its drumroll. Who will kick the can first? It was a sick joke. But these fucking girls were insane. You felt fucking insane. You hated it. The only semblance of normalcy was-

“Sup dickwad.” Mari greeted you with a wide grin.

Mari.

In a sea of tension, weird cult behavior, and bipolar mood swings, Mari’s sense of self being in tact has been your sanity. Because thank god she hasn’t fucking changed. She has stayed her annoying, goofy, beautiful, and quietly kind self. And you were so thankful she was here.

“Hey,” You greeted with a sigh.

Mari notices your hands in your pockets, and gives you a concerned look. “Cold?”

You scoff, “What gave it away?”

She rolls her eyes, and motions for you to give her your hands. “Yeah don’t be an ass about it.”

You wordlessly show her your trembling blue hands. She frowns and rubs her hands together quickly, before holding onto yours. Her hands aren’t nearly warm enough against your freezing ones. Despite that, it sends heat rushing throughout your body, and a lingering fluttery feeling in your chest. You gasp, and Mari just gives you a grin.

“See, just have to speak up about what you need.” She mumbles to you, her hands tightly holding onto yours.

You smile, “Yeah…my bad.”

After a beat, she lets go of your hands. “Heard you’re next on hunting rotation.”

You shrug, “Yeah, we’ll head out in a few. Waiting for the snow to lighten up.”

Mari doesn’t say anything for a beat too long but her eyes shift from you to something behind you. You frown and wave your hand around her face. “Dude, are you good? What are you even thinking about?” You ask, trying to follow her eyesight to see what’s bothering her.

“Yeah so I heard Nat likes you.” Mari blurted out.

You freeze, “What?”

You spin from behind you, where the girls are all scattered around the campsite. Your eyes scour to find Natalie. Once they find her, she’s sitting near her tent, cleaning out the gun. Blonde hair was beginning to outgrow into her dark roots. Dark eyes focused and hung low. Lip tucked under her teeth in concentration.

“That doesn’t mean go fucking look at her! You’re so fucking obvious!!” Mari hisses, twisting you back around to face her again.

You give her a wide-eyed look, “Well-okay you can’t blame me for that. You can’t tell me someone has a crush on me and expect me not to want to see-”

“Do you like her?”

The question throws you for a loop. You pause, face scrunching in confusion. “Huh?”

“Well? Do you?”

“…Where is this coming from?” You ask carefully, not understanding. You narrow your eyes, trying to read her face.

Mari swallows hard before shrugging casually. “I’m just curious.”

You can tell she is trying to be casual, but her tone comes out harsh. Harsh enough to make you flinch. “Why are you saying it like that?” You question hesitantly.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re mad about it.”

“I’m not mad.”

You stare at her. Eyebrows raised, lips parted, and hands crossed across your chest. This felt like having a conversation with a two-year-old. You nod and give her an unconvinced look. “No, but you are. You’re doing that thing you do when you’re mad.”

“Just answer the fucking question.” Mari’s voice rises.

“Oh my God-you are mad.” You whispered, a pit of fear beginning to set in your stomach.

“No I’m not!” She denied, her face hot.

You lift your hands up in surrender. ”Okay! Not mad, got it. Why is it important if I like Nat or not?” You questioned softly.

“It doesn’t matter-I just-well do you?”

“I mean…I don’t know I never thought about it. I mean, she is…like hot. In an alt bad girl kind of way.” You turn your back to look at Natalie again, but Mari is stopping you and twisting you back to face her.

“You think she’s hot? She is sooo not hot. If anything she’s like an alt loser.” She objects, with a something in her tone that is trying too hard.

You scoff, “Mari…don’t fucking start. Yes she is hot.”

“No she isn’t. She isn’t a real bad girl. So what she wears leather no big deal-”

“Mari-”

“And big whoop she smokes? Literally we all do-”

You grab Mari’s shoulders effectively stopping her ramble. “Mari…are you jealous?”

Mari frowns, “N-no.”

You grin “Holy shit. You SO are!”

Mari rolls her eyes, and starts to walk away but you grab her hand and pull her into you. “Aww Mari, nooo come back. Come on, you’re beautiful too.”

“Beautiful? You just called Natalie hot. And I get beautiful?”

You look around, not a lot of the girls were around. But still you started tugging Mari away from everyone a little deeper into the woods. Mari frowns trying not very hard to untangle her hand from yours.

“Where are you taking me you freak??” Mari groans.

You roll your eyes. “Oh chill the fuck out Mari. I’m not Lottie, I’m not going to bring you to some weird ass ritual site to pray.”

That shuts her up. Because she did go to one of those. And when she told you, well you were fucking pissed. You argued about how dangerous it could’ve been or how in the grand scheme of it all fucking insane that is???? Mari had never seen your face get so red.

She kinda liked how protective you were of her.

It made you kinda…hot? It made her want to do more, see how far you’d be willing to go. What you’d do if she forced your hand to intervene. Would you protect her? Would you want her?

So Mari had locked into the sub cult happening amongst the girls. Half because what if that shit is real, other half because she wanted to see what you would do. Wanted to see if you would care.

You brought her not too far from camp, but far enough where no one will be able to hear. You let go of her hand and take a step back, arms on your hips. Mari already missed the warmth your hand on hers gave.

“Alright Mari, why the fuck are you jealous of Nat? Is it because we’re spending a lot of time together?” You ask, with a surprising amount of softness.

Mari flinches, she didn’t expect to be confronted with the truth. Of course she was bothered. In a strange turn of events, her getting closer to Lottie, pushed you to get closer to Nat. You being one of the hunters was badass (and kinda hot).

But then you started talking to Mari less and Nat more. When you were all together you would whisper inside jokes to the blonde, and your eyes would light up when she chuckled. Hell when they hunted Nat, you were the one that held back Tai, shoved Gen to the ground, and yelled to Nat to fucking run.

It was Mari that had to wash your face, Tai had knocked you out with her elbows. When Mari begged you to talk to her. Explain why you would be so reckless and stupid. You wouldnt. You didn’t even look her in the eyes.

Just mumbled “She’s our friend…we can’t just…she deserves to go back home with us.”

Natalie was softer with you after that. Mari noticed it. How could she not? Especially when Natalie would fucking run the pads of her fingers to the bruising and cut on your face. (The face Mari cleaned and patched up)

Or the way you let Natalie rest her head on your shoulder. Or how your hand found hers, when you felt anxious. How Natalie would whisper stuff in your ear to make you laugh.

And even when they made Natalie leader. You were the one that kissed her on the cheek and said you’d follow her anywhere. The memory left a bitter taste in Mari’s mouth. It made her want to punch something-

“Mari?” You call out again.

Mari eyes snap open, she is looking at you and the concern on your face. A frown deepening on her own lips. “I’m not jealous.” She lies.

You groan, “Okay fine. Not jealous. Why are you upset then?” You question, and when Mari opens her mouth to object you stop her, “AND don’t fucking stand there and say ‘I’m not upset.’ Yes you fucking are. Your left eye is twitching and you got the frown on your face. The one you had when you found out your older brother stole your Selena CD to give to his girlfriend for Valentine’s day.”

Despite her frustration and annoyance, Mari chuckled at the memory. The memory you know. She can’t help the frown that slips, because you really know her best.

And then she shook her head and sighed. Not knowing how to explain herself. So she shrugged, “I don’t like Natalie. Never have.”

Another lie.

“Okay…I don’t really like your friendship with Lottie-but I understand we have friends outside of each other-“

“-Yeah that’s the thing. I don’t like that. I don’t like that you have someone besides me.” Mari cuts to it. Her voice rising.

“You-you don’t like me having friends?” You repeat slowly and bit in disbelief.

“No I don’t.” Mari deadpans, and then after a beat. “I should be your person. I’ve always been your person since you fucking got to that shitty little town. Sure you had other rando friends. But it was me and you for the most part. So yeah fuck Natalie. So what she’s the leader? And you go hunting with her and you have this special little bond- well fuck that. We have a special little bond. And I’m hot too and also-“

In a last ditch effort to stop this rant you step closer to her and reach your hands out to gently grab her face. Thumbs caressing the apples of her cheeks. Hot to the touch. Which shuts her up quickly. Eyes wide, face flushed, mouth open.

You chuckle a little at the sight of her. “Feel free to stop this if you hate it.” You mumbled, before leaning closer and pressing your lips firmly on hers.

Her lips are chapped and cold. And she’s frozen in place, hands to her sides. Your heart drops because fuck what if this wasn’t what you should’ve done.

But then when you pull away she closes the gap and kisses you back hard. Her hands grabbing your jacket and fisting it to tug you even closer. You moan in surprise and that makes her smile into your lips. It’s all consuming and you feel Mari start to lead as she walks you backwards until you’re against a fucking tree.

Your eyes widen. “Not jealous, huh? That’s such bullshit” You tease, pulling away from her lips.

Mari frowns, “Shut up.” slamming her lips back against yours. She bites your bottom lip and uses your tiny gasp as the means to slide her tongue into your mouth. She fights for dominance and you let her have it.

One thing you’ve learned being her friend is to never fight an angry Latina. You never win, even if you’re right, even if you technically could win. You never win. So you let her take over, you let her kiss along your neck. You let her bite and suck, and mark you up.

Mari could always do what she wanted with you.

And when she pulls away, she has this satisfied look on her face. Your eyes are dilated, your hair tussled, lips red and swollen. Your neck? Screams someone marked me. I belong to someone. And you did.

“This means you’re mine. I’m yours, you’re mine. No one else gets to do this. Okay?” Mari says firmly with all the seriousness in the world.

You swallow hard and nod. “Wait are you saying we’re…like dating?”

Mari frowns “Well duh. Damn and you say I’m slow.”

You roll your eyes, “Okay rude, also I didn’t even know you liked girls.”

“Yeah? Well…I like you. I have for like a really long time-and I’m not going to lose you because the leather loser that you think is hot sweeps you away or worse-“

You kiss the corner of her mouth tenderly. To stop her angry rambling. Which it does, very quickly. “Yeah yeah.” you mumble.

You keep kissing all around her face and you can feel her melt under you. Her hand holding your waist tighter.

“You can’t just kiss me every time you want me to shut up.” She says with a strained voice.

You smile, “Hmm can’t I?”

You press your lips on hers firmly, before pulling away. “Okay, I’m yours.”

Mari nods, a goofy smile stretching onto her face. Eyes brightening, cheeks red. “Hell yeah, you are.”

[theladybrownstarot]

𝜗𝜚 Pick-A-Card: Why are you important to this world ? [Timeless] [collab : @kalki-tarot]

How to choose 🪴: choose where you the soul feels~

Magic : Comment down the type mentioned below every pile(s) to claim the positivity of every reading ! I'll bless you personally 🤍🪷

|𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ִֶָ |𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐝-𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ִֶָ |𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 ִֶָ |

𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏.

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

Okay , so pile no . 1 , You are important to this world because you are One among a genuine person in the world of fake . Where people find for genuine companionship , all eyes turns on you With an indefinite hope . You Bring clarity and stability to the people who are surrounded to you . Actually , pile number one , you are a real person , real deal so Don't be afraid to accept that . The confidence that you keep in yourself by being a genuine person and taking that any approach , you feel confident for people automatically get inspired from you Believing that you are their ideal person to follow . You could be a good luck for people. I am getting this strong message that you have a roll of breaking the karmic cycle of many people , One among the important reason to why you are important to this world . You know you are a messenger of god you're a messenger for people to those who face any uncertainty you may come up with those messages that actually lighten the burden on people's shoulder . You're jupiter could be placed very good in your chart. You're a person who doesn't only believe that you should go ahead in life but you shouldn't be taking the people along with you nah you are like I'll go first but I'll too take along . You are a genuine , kind and giving person my pile 1 . You're at someone who is just sweet with everyone they meet around who are having trouble , but actually you are someone who will show them the ground reality by being mature and stating the facts as much needed than over . You come as a hope for people pile number 1 . I love the fact that you do not go ahead for popularity ditching others but play your role as a good human begin on this earth. I have no words to express to my gratitude here to you because ig you energy too doesn't allow since you are a laid back and chilled kind of person, pile 1. You only need to people to follow your advice and acknowledge thats enough you don't die around for compliments hell ya that's so amazing! Lysm 🤍 , Some Extra Messages : Capricorn sagittorus libra virgo , uttara ashada , revati , bharani, Swati, moon in aquarius, jupiter dominant or jupiter in fire sign & mars in scorpio .

Type : 111 to claim the positivity of the reading and I'll personally bless in the comment section wholeheartedly 🤍🪷

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For Donation- link

𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐. [@kalki-tarot]

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

( lovers, 8 of swords, world, 6 of wands, Justice, Five of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, Strength )

The reason why this pile is so important to the world is because this group has creative and artistic individuals. You are blessing this world through your profound artistic abilities. People who are in twinflame or soulmate journeys have choosen this group. You are making a collective empact on this world through healing your wounds and changing your limiting beliefs. You were born into constraints or were pushed into self doubts. But all of this was a part of your journey, you're gonna alchemize all this pain into creative endeavors and you'll help others through your art by giving them comfort. You are a soul working with the higher power for a higher divine purpose, you're gonna help others by acting as a mirror so others can heal their shadow selves too and the collective can transcend into divine wholeness or union. You have walked through the shadows, some of you were also into toxic relationships. You are a rebellious soul, you'll inspire others through your own story. You are here to restore the imbalance created by false ego driven people against humanity. You carry the vibration of truth and rebellion, and you inspire the world around you to do the same. You walked through the pain, not as a punishment, but that was your initiation. Your importance lies in their ability to alchemize pain into love, turning separation into unity.

Type : 222 to claim the positivity of the reading and I'll personally bless in the comment section wholeheartedly 🤍🪷

𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑.

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

OK , So pile number three , when I was doing your reading , I felt a lump in my throat which actually gave me a message that People in your early life must have mocked at you or would have actually laughed at you But you didn't stop there and became a voice for other people too speaking for yourself. So , inspiring and revolutionary you are . Your Quality of being stubborn makes you an important person to this world , because it helps you to find the eminent dangers around you lurking Which in returns help the other people. Your protective and caring of yourself and other people too . You are somaeone , who is patient and doesn't rush into things this helps people too actually inspire by living a life where they are truly living , enjoying the Bliss of their actions and doesn't rush into things . It feels as if being with you people forget about the fear of mortality and become more living ! No matter how critical you appear at same time, you are that warm humble person that everybody wants around because you give them security in all sense , especially their heart. People love you because you love them, People love themselves because you love yourself . How beautiful isn't it ? It's for that every person who choose this pile 🌸. You bring that positivity in people's life that couldn't find in Years , because of you they inspire to balance their life . It's you than it's them. You may not feel it but actually you really do impact people . Where everybody wants to fight for their things, you prefer.Negotiation , making people feel comfortable that they can approach and than cooperate with you , since you are a fair person . Some Extra Messages : Moon in Saggitaurus , Saturn in taurus , Venus in cancer, Capricorn and libra.

Type : 333 to claim the positivity of the reading and I'll personally bless in the comment section wholeheartedly 🤍🪷

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𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟒.

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟒 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

Pile 4

(Two of Pentacles, The Moon, 9 of pentacles, Ten of Cups, Queen of swords, 8 of pentacles, 5 of cups, page of pentacles)

You are so important to the world because you are someone who has lived through emotional confusion and personal struggles, yet you continue to grow and guide others. You can juggle many responsibilities like emotions, work, relationships, and help others do the same. You bring harmony into chaos. You might have gone through periods of darkness, confusion, and fear, but you are deeply connected to your intuition and the unseen forces of the universe. You are a lightworker. You understand what others hide and you are not afraid of emotional depth. You may have some strong 8th house placements in your chart. You are wise and compassionate towards those who are lost or struggling. This group is filled with empathetic souls who are guiding others through their emotional and healing capabilities. You are someone who is self-made and independent. You also inspire those who do the same. You carry the energy of peace and connection. You bring people together and create a sense of unity, whether it is blood-related or spiritual. You pursue illusions and you speak with honesty, but your wisdom is healing. You are not afraid of hard work. You are always learning and improving. You remind the world that growth is a process and dedication leads to mastery. You are a karma yogi, acting without attachment. This mix of emotions, wisdom and honesty in your personality will serve a greater purpose in this world.

Type : 444 to claim the positivity of the reading and I'll personally bless in the comment section wholeheartedly 🤍🪷

Thank you so much lovelies for reading this ! It's takes a lot of time and energy to make such pick-a-cards so please make sure you support us 🤍 also we will be happy to know your responses in the comment section below about the reading ! Don't forget to type in comment section to claim the positivity of the readings since we will personally bless you there wholeheartedly! Love you and be blessed bye ♡

[cherrychilli]

Absolutely have to know if you're doing a part two for the Eddie and virgin reader chastity cage bit, because ough! It's incredible stuff.

Either way, thank you for writing it!

Thanks for reading!

So, I wrote it intending for it to be a oneshot and I'm going to keep it that way

but

I woke up this morning with an idea for an extended ending. Just a short scene but I think that's all that's really needed. Hope you like it💛

Everything's so delightfully sticky and wet.

It's all sore between your legs from where his spend drips down onto your thighs. A wonderful feeling you doubt you'll ever tire of.

You're glad you waited too. He couldn't have been more perfect with how he took care of you. Stretching you out with his thick, dexterous fingers. Making you cum with his tongue first before he fit his cock inside you, his hand holding yours. So many sweet whispers of 'I've got you', 'you're doing so well', and 'fuck, you feel incredible.'

Then suddenly, the afterglow crumbles.

Someone's at the door. Someone persistent because they don't let up with their insistent knocking. Both Eddie and you groan, forced to unstick yourselves from one another so he can pull on his pair of sweats once more. Before he goes he makes sure to turn back and reach for you, placing a kiss on your lips that makes your body fill with butterflies.

Walking out of the bedroom, he's half ready to cuss out whoever's knocking on his door, swiftly pulling the thing open only for Eddie to nearly stagger back.

Danny Vaughn. Danny Vaughn is at his doorstep.

"Finally. Listen Munson, I've got a girl waiting", he gestures at his car parked nearby. Convertible. Ferrari red. Douchey. "And I don't have much time. Need some blow if you've got it. Dirty thing, I talked her into letting me do a couple of lines off her tits", he winks at Eddie in that sickening bravado heavy kind of way. "Aint she classy?"

Eddie's eyes turn sharp. "Fresh out", he lies, stony faced with his fist clenched at his side

Danny's face twists with annoyance but only for a moment, taking in Eddie's shirtless state, his body dewy and the smell of sex clinging to his skin.

The prick puts two and two together, clapping a hand against Eddie's shoulder with a thick grin. "You dog. Got someone over don't you? didn't take you for the lady killer type."

If it weren't for the fact that Eddie and you were together now he would have had Danny's beaten, pulpy body to deal with on his doorstep. He restrains himself though, not wanting your first date to be spent visiting him in jail.

"Eddie, I'm going to fix myself a drink. You want one?"

The sound of your voice has Danny immediately straightening up like a meerkat, craning his neck to see you over Eddie's shoulder, passing by in nothing but the tee Eddie had been dressed in a couple hours ago. So blissful, you don't even notice your dick ex at the door.

"Sure. Surprise me", Eddie calls out with his eyes cemented on Danny's face. God, it is so satisfying to see the crestfallen look taking over his stupid face.

"Yeah, so as you can see I'm pretty busy", Eddie goes to close the door, shit eating grin wide on his face. "Got a good thing going on here so I don't want to keep her waiting. It'd be pretty fucking stupid to take a girl like that for granted" he tells Danny pointedly.

Happily, Eddie closes the door on Danny's shattered face, calmly making his way to the kitchenette where he finds you going through the fridge, looking all kinds of amazing in his clothes.

"Who was at the door?", you ask him when he comes by to wrap his arms around your waist from behind. He hasn't been this happy in a long time, half wondering what he'd done to deserve someone as good as you. The other half not caring why, only vowing to become everything you deserve and more.

"No one, baby. No one important."

[peacheeeliz]

032. i didn't know where else to go (wc: 469)

Heavy rain patters against the windows of the convenience store, almost drowning out the quiet music Wooyoung always plays to make his shifts just a bit more entertaining. He stands in his usual spot, speaking to San, who sits on the counter in front of him. There were no customers, so they were both in their own little worlds as they spoke to one another.

“I'm just saying, if you really wanted to get back into music,” San begins, chewing away at a candy bar. “I'm sure the others would love to have you join The Willows.”

“You think?” Wooyoung asks, organizing something behind the counter. “Well, if you ever need a really hot drummer,” he pauses, looking up at San and winking playfully. “I'm your guy.”

San winks back, chuckling. “Hell yeah, you are.”

“I've been wanting to get back into it anyway,” Wooyoung continues, eyes back on his task. “You know, like solo stuff. Learning covers and posting videos and whatnot.”

“Oh my God, you would so make it as one of those thirst trap drummers on TikTok,” San comments, taking another bite of his candy bar.

“Right?” He exclaims. “That's the career I was born for, honest to God,” he jokes, laughing. “But, no, here I am. Working at the convenience store.”

Before San could even say anything back, his phone dings from his pocket. He checks his notifications, groaning. “Ugh, picture-perfect Yunho calling me to a last-minute practice,” he says, hopping off the counter. “I've gotta go.”

“Tell ‘em I said hey,” Wooyoung tells him, looking up to watch him head towards the door. “And stay dry out there, I've never seen it rain this bad.”

“Already on it, sir,” he replies, saluting as he pulls his umbrella out of the umbrella rack. “Good luck on your shift!”

With one last wave from Wooyoung, San is out the door and straight into the storm. Now alone – as what customer in their right mind would make a convenience store stop in this rain – Wooyoung returns his full attention to his tasks. Organizing bits and bobs behind the counters, oh so entertaining.

When the bell rings, indicating someone was entering the store, he barely even notices. It isn't until he feels the presence of someone nearby and the intense glare of eyeballs that he looks up from his work, “Hi, welcome. What can I-”

He cuts himself off when he sees it's you standing there, soaking wet and dripping all over the floor. Even in your state, he can tell you've been crying by the redness of your eyes. But, still, he's frozen in his place because it had been way too long since he'd seen you like this. It left him in shock.

“I,” you pause, voice cracking. “I didn't know where else to go.”

synopsis ⤏ when wooyoung, mr. "scared of commitment," finds himself catching feelings for you, his supposed friend with benefits, he struggles between keeping things casual or possibly ruining your friendship.

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[callikari]

MOON RIVER ★ P.SH

PRECIS 。 two drifters off to see the world, there's such a crazy word to see. moon river, wider than a smile.

박성훈 x fem!reader 66O fluff angst soft romance ─ emotional intimacy comfort crying heavy emotions skinship kissing

REBLOG FOR A KiSS

the rooftop is warm with summer air, the stars blinking shyly above the quiet hum of the city.

the party downstairs is still going, but neither of you care. not when the sky looks like this. not when you’re beside each other like this. not when the night feels like a secret shared between two hearts that never really stopped beating for one another.

you sit next to sunghoon, shoulder to shoulder. his hoodie sleeves are pulled down over his hands like always, and he’s got that distant look again. the one that makes you ache a little.

you glance over at him. “what are you thinking about?”

he blinks slowly. then, “do you think there’s a version of us… somewhere out there, that never lost each other?”

your breath catches. “sunghoon…”

he doesn’t look at you.

you reach for his hand under the fabric, threading your fingers through. “i think there’s a version of us right now that’s still here. still trying.”

that’s when he finally turns.

his eyes are glassy. lower lashes wet. he tries to blink it away, but a tear slips down anyway.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles, voice cracking. “i don’t—i didn’t mean to ruin tonight—”

“hey,” you whisper, heart clenching. “you didn’t ruin anything.”

he shakes his head, but the tears come anyway—thick and quiet and heartbreaking. he hides his face in his hands like he’s ashamed of it.

you move closer instantly, gently pulling his hands away from his face. your thumbs stroke his knuckles as you cup his cheeks with both hands.

“sunghoon,” you say softly. “look at me, baby.”

his lashes flutter, red-rimmed eyes blinking up at you. and god, he looks so young like this. like a boy who’s been brave for too long. like someone who just needs to be held.

“i’m so tired,” he chokes out. “i don’t know why it hit me now. i just… i miss when things were easy. when it was just us. i—i wanted to protect this. protect you.”

you hush him gently, thumbs brushing his damp cheeks. “you don’t have to protect me from your feelings. you’re allowed to cry. you’re allowed to fall apart with me.”

he leans into your palms like they’re the only steady thing in his world. his lip trembles a little. “i hate crying in front of people.”

you smile softly, brushing a tear from under his eye. “i’m not people. i’m yours.”

his breath hitches at that, a broken little sound in the back of his throat.

so you scoot even closer, tucking his head into the crook of your shoulder. your arms wrap around him completely now, warm and tight, and you kiss the crown of his head once. then again. and again.

“you’re okay,” you whisper into his hair. “you’re safe. i’ve got you, baby. i’ll always have you.”

he holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, but you don’t. you just keep rocking him gently, like the world outside doesn’t matter. like he’s your whole universe.

and in a way, he is.

after a while, the sobs slow down. the hiccups turn to quiet breathing. and his fingers curl into the hem of your shirt like a child clinging to something soft in the dark.

“thank you,” he whispers hoarsely.

you kiss his forehead this time. “anytime. always.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you, face still puffy but calmer now. “you make everything feel okay.”

you grin. “that’s because we’re two drifters, remember? off to see the world.”

he sniffles. “moon river?”

you nod. “you and me.”

and he smiles, all teary-eyed and soft. “i love you.”

your hands slide back up to cradle his face again, and you kiss his nose, then the corner of his lips.

“i love you more.”

he closes his eyes and lets himself melt into you completely.

and beneath the moonlight, two tired hearts rest against each other. not broken. not lost.

just finally safe.

vi says :: i absolutely love frank ocean oh my gosh

enhypen taglist :: @nocturnebite @cheruphic @chrrific @jungwonbropls @manariees @ijustwannareadstuff20 @ijustreallylike2read @nicholasluvbot

© CALLIKARI 

[mollygrass]

Preacher Girl part 2

Remmick x Female reader

Summary: Regretful and shameful for losing your virginity before marriage, you avoid Remmick for the whole week until guilt eventually pulls you back at his porch in hopes of his forgiveness.

Tags & Warnings: religious themes, female reader, ambiguous reader, blood drinking, turning into vampire, smut, power imbalance dynamics

A/N: proofread only once, so sorry for any errors I’m lazy

Word count: 4k

In his bedroom the curtains block out the bright sun rays, keeping the room dim. You lie next to Remmick, cuddled close and cozily warm. Slowly your eyelids flutter open. Each blink clears the blurry fog of slumber. On his side he lies comfortably, chin held up in one hand as the other caresses your smooth cheek.

“Mornin, darlin.”

In a flash, you spring to life, sitting up. The covers sink low to your bare waist. Your eyes fall down to your exposed chest. It all pieces together in your brain like a puzzle. Unholy, vomit inducing memories makes your heart thump as your tummy twists endlessly on loop.

“Oh…oh, heavens,” you murmur, feeling terribly sick.

A mistake. Last night. It was all a horrible regretful mistake you made. All you wanted was to talk about your feelings with him. But here you are, waking up nude next to Remmick.

“Aw, don’t tell me you’re regretting last night.”

Unease strings your breaths out in erratic rhythms and your hands quiver in your lap. You refuse to spare glance his way, eyes more interested in the dry walls.

“I need to go home.”

“You can’t go yet. I ain’t even offered you breakfast,” he insists.

The gloom cracking his voice nearly splits your heart in two. Any other day you would have loved to stay for breakfast. However, today isn’t just any other day.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go, Remmick. I’m sorry, really.”

Swiftly, you collect your discarded clothes on the floor and put them on, guilt mixed together with shame plaguing your brain. Then without uttering another word you dash out the bedroom with him hot on your trail like a lost puppy. Brown eyes round and wide, brimming with disbelief as he helplessly watches you leave.

How can someone as angelic as you treat him in such a way? Stiff, cold and distant, instead of the usual cheery, bubbly you. He wants to scream out to you. Yank you tightly into an eternal embrace, never letting you escape out the front door in the living room. He doesn’t. Limbs made of stone, adhered to the floor, Remmick is frozen in time as he watches you walk out the door. And when he does dare to bravely reach a hand out to you it’s too late.

You’re already long gone down the street at home.

…………………..

The days blur together in one messy chain of events, tangled all over the place. Each passing day you keep yourself occupied with mind numbing tasks. From helping out around town to volunteering at church. Yet it never fully eradicates that night tattooed in your brain. Like an angry, bitter spirit it haunts you endlessly.

The worst of it always seems to find you in your devoted worship to God. As you say prayers, his lewd voice whispers in your ears. While you sit in church listening to the pastor's graceful praises of the high lord, images of Remmick from that night dusts your skin in shameful goosebumps. In fact because of these unwanted reminders of your sinful acts you’re beginning to hate going to church or let alone anything that relates to God.

The day of the lord is nearly over as the sun drifts lower and lower from the sky. Your home is packed with your fellow believers from church. As promised, you serve Sunday supper for them.

Chatter and laughter fills your home as everyone stuffs their mouths at your dinner table. Golden crispy fried chicken, creamy buttery mashed potatoes, well seasoned string beans and your famous tooth-rotting dessert–peach cobbler. It brings everyone together in blissful joy and harmony to eat your delicious cooking.

“By now you would’ve been down the street with a wrapped plate for that odd fella. You finally realize how weird he is or something?” A man who always sits in the front row at church, snickers.

Out of everyone in town and especially at church, he never missed an opportunity to urge you to stay away from Remmick in all his “unholiness” as he always puts it. It always puzzles your brain why he does it, and usually shrugs it off like a harmless bug. Though, today his words hold power to them.

A woman sitting at his side jabs a sharp elbow in his gut. “Stop that, John!” She snaps in a hushed whisper, an annoyed glint in her eyes.

The mention of Remmick makes your heart thud wildly. He’s the last somebody you want to talk about with this crowd of folks. It’ll only make the overwhelming shame you feel eat you whole.

You ignore John, pretending to eat your food.

“Hmmp, I must be right. I’ve been watching you since Monday and you ain’t not once visited that man.” He points his silverware at you. “See, this is why you should’ve taken heed to my warnings before you found out the hard way, sweetheart.”

The dinner table falls silent. Their eyes all lock on you. Curious and nosy about if John’s words hold truth.

You clear your throat, lips pursed. “I’ve just been under the weather, so please, let’s talk about something else.”

The soft smile etched on your lips reassures everyone. Well, except for him–John.

He scoffs, shaking his head disapprovingly. The table’s lighthearted atmosphere returns and everyone goes back to chatting up storms. You don’t join in the conversations, mind battling off storms of shame. Instead you act as if you're listening and smile as John suspiciously eyes you from across the table.

After dinner, they all hang around for a bit longer until the moon glows in the sky. One after the other they leave until only one person remains–John. He halts on the porch, turning on his heels to face you in the doorframe. Eyes intense, brows knitting, lips in a fine line. He extends an arm, hand lightly gripping your shoulder.

“Let this be my last warning, girl. Stay far away from that damn man. There’s something evil and demonic surrounding him. A soul pure and sweet as yours is just perfect for somebody like him to destroy.” He adjusts the black hat on his head and turns for the steps. “May our heavenly father be with you, goodnight.”

You watch him get in an automobile as his grim final warning plummets your stomach. His car drives off into the distance, darkness of the night swallowing his car.

In bed you toss and turn relentlessly. John’s warning and Remmick haunt your mind. One minute your conscience agrees with the latter. This side of you urges you to stay away from your outcasted neighbor. On the flip side the other half shames you for how you have been treating Remmick lately. In all honesty it shocks you that you feel this way because throughout the week you never once felt bad for it until now. Maybe it’s from what John said at dinner or possibly the guilt is finally kicking in. Afterall, you don’t normally treat people with such cruelty.

Once more you wash away all the pesky thoughts, but they all come slamming back and this time heavier than a bag of bricks. It forces you to make up your mind and that’s just what you do.

Easily, you chose Remmick.

You hold a nice plate full of leftover food from dinner, neatly wrapped. Your shoes slap against the dry pavement. Humid summer wind blows your night gown in wild ripples. This time around you don’t pray to god for Remmick to answer the door. In fact you don’t pray at all. All you do is focus on getting to his home.

At his house, you knock on the door. A long minute passes and you knock again just to meet silence. All you hear is crickets singing in the nearby woods paired with whispers of the soft breeze. Sighing, you turn to leave his porch.

“What was I thinking? Of course he’s not going to let me in after I ignored him for a week,” you mumble, sulking.

As you begin dragging your feet to leave, a bitter taste filling your mouth, his door groans open.

“Come in,” is all he says.

He doesn’t say anything else as you slip past the doorframe. Rather loudly, the door slaps shut. It jolts your slouchy spine in a fine line and your aching heart racing. He must still be upset with you still. Understandable. You don’t knock him for his valid emotions. It’s the whole reason you're here in the first place. To make it up to him.

The wooden planks squeak as he walks deeper into the house, but the usual bright light never comes. It’s puzzling and odd. But still you don’t judge him. Well, that’s the case until a potent smell overwhelms your nostrils—wet pennies.

“Remmick, what’s that smell?”

You no longer hear the floor moaning under his feet.

“Do you really want to know?” His voice rumbles low, something wicked brews deep within it.

John’s goosebump inducing warning loudly echoes in your ears. You gulp, wondering if he’s right about your odd neighbor.

“Yes.”

The room lights up in a blink of an eye. You carefully eye the room and everything seems to be the same as the day you left. Untouched, neat and clean. It’s another story as your eyes land on Remmick. Eyes widening, the plate slips from your hands. It crashes on the floor with a soft thud. Cold food and the plates glass shards decorate the floor.

you finally look at him though, your eyes widen. The plate slips out of your hands. It crashes onto the floor with a soft thud. The cold food spills everywhere mixed with glass shards.

He stands there, frozen in his tracks. Blood, still wet and fresh, drenches his chin all the way down to his ivory collared shirt. An unreadable blank mask sits upon his bloody stained handsome face.

“Do you know why they fear me? Why everyone avoids me like I’m the devil’s spawn?”

Backing away from him, you trip over your own feet, landing on your butt. Dread sneaks up your spine as you crab walk away from him. Words bundle, sticky as glue in your mouth. You can’t speak as you take in the horrific view of Remmick.

He prowls closer, glowing eyes matching the color of blood staining his shirt. Crouching down at your level, his head tilts. As usual his eyes are round, but a sinister darkness storms within them. “You’re right, I’m sinful. Unholy. Everything the Bible curses. Yet you,” he pauses, gliding a clawed finger under your chin to look up at him. “Always seemed to flock to me, the so-called devil. How can that be when you’re pure and sweet?”

You remain silent. Limbs too scared to dare move an inch.

“Can’t answer that, can you, darlin?”

You frantically shake your head, heart drumming in your ears.

He inhales deeply, eyes sealed shut. Then exhales. Eyes open again. “Didn’t think so.”

Your trembling frame pulls his bloody lips in a gentle smile. Oh, how he hates what he’s planning to do to you next. But it must be done, otherwise you’ll never be his.

“Well, you wanted to know what that smell was, right?” He motions his long talon fingers at himself. A wide smile reveals his vile fangs.

The sight of his unholy, devilish teeth only chokes you tighter with fear. A breathless gasp chokes past your parted lips.

“One of your little friends from church.”

Your heart drops. “No, you didn’t!”

He laughs, shaking his head like a deranged asylum patient. He’s enjoying every second of this. “No, not the ones from your little dinner party, darlin.”

Shamefully, your chest deflates, relieved Yet guilt tears you to shreds at the fact that some innocent person you worshipped God with has been killed by Remmick’s hands.

“Unlike y’all, I don’t find regular ole food appetizing. I prefer something warm, liquidy and fresh, darlin.”

“W-What type of monster are you? You’re not Remmick…you can’t be! He would never do such a disgraceful, disgusting thing.” Tears stream down your cheeks. Your chest heaves heavily, burning hot.

“Ain’t you just the sweetest thing. Too naive for your own good, really. Don’t be deluded, I am indeed Remmick.”

“Lies, you wretched devil!”

Twisting on all fours, you spring to your feet and dash for the door. He idly catches your night gown, its fabric bundled in his fist and yanks you back. Hitting the floor knocks you breathless as pain blossoms in your backside. A quiet whimper slips past your lips.

“Uhn-Uhn, I ain’t finished with ya yet. You ain’t going nowhere, not till I’m done with you.”

The danger coating his voice raises a new concern in your limbs. You thrash on the floor as he drags you through the hall leading to his bedroom.

He sighs heavily, still not looking forward to what’s coming next. Remmick knows how you’ll react. How your screams and cries will slice his heart to pieces. The way you’ll squirm as pins you down in the mattress.

Just as his previous wife did many sunrises ago.

Together they lived happily under the moon together, traveling the world. Until she gruesomely died at the hands of vampire hunters without a drip of mercy. After her death he always figured he’d live out the rest of his days, miserable and bitter in the night. That’s what he thought until you.

Years stacked on top of years fleeing towns, Remmick finally settled down in a small quiet town deep in Mississippi. His days of hunting poor helpless souls for the gift to bring spirits forth from both the past and the future was over. All he craved was to live a quiet, mundane life as he mourned his wife.

He got his wish, but at what cost? Everyone in town damned him for his strangeness. They’re a religious town of people. So, when he never showed his face in church people began wondering things. Curiosity turned to sympathy. Then sympathy became hatred. At first folks thought he was a shy man, until they didn’t.

But one person out of the entire town did show him kindness. A warmth, Remmick never thought he’d feel again after his wife. Maybe it’s because you were new to the town or simply because it’s just who you are. Sweeter than honey, everyday bringing him gifts. Spending time with him. In the beginning he found you. Then suddenly he found himself smitten with you.

“Sorry. I really am, darlin. But after you left me. Abandoned me, I can’t risk having that again.”

He kicks the bedroom door shut, locking it with a key fished from his pocket. Then he lifts you with ease in his strong arms. Like a wild rabbit caught by the neck, your flailing persists till you're dropped on the bed. Its spring wires whine under your weight. Swiftly, you sit up. But Remmick is more swift, shoving you back on the mattress.

“Let me go! You vile demon,” you wail, voice cracking.

“Hush all that racket now.” He hovers you on the bed. With only one hand he effortlessly pins your wrists above your head.

“S-Somebody help! Help!” You scream.

Just as your lips part, ready to cry for help again, Remmick’s calloused palm gags you. It silences your every scream.

“Make me repeat myself again, you’ll be gagged and not with my hand.”

As his hand draws back you don’t dare utter a single word. All you do is quietly whine.

“Good girl,” he coos, red eyes softening. Though his iron grip never falters around your wrists. “Now this next part is gonna hurt. But don’t freight, I promise to take good care of you, darlin. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Do what? What are you going to do to me?”

He huffs a raspy laugh. “Don’t worry, you’ll see soon enough.”

His head dips down to your face. Soft lips gently press against your forehead and slowly trail to your neck. Each kiss he litters, your body trembles. Even after experiencing sex, your reactions are still pure as if he never explored your body’s every crevice. So cute and sweet. Just for him only.

His tongue takes its time gliding across your neck’s feverish flesh. Its slick wetness drags unbalanced breaths from your chest.

Truly, you can’t fathom why he’s doing this to you. All the kindness you showed him when no one else in town did. The chance you alone offered when no one else did. How could he?

Your vision blurs as tears stain your flushed cheeks. “W-Why?”

He buries his face deep in your saliva coated neck. “Hmm?” He hums, drowned in total bliss, inhaling your mouth watering sweet scent.

“This…why are you doing this? I thought we were friends?” You sniffle, voice shattered. “Even if you are some kind of monster, Remmick, why?”

He keeps his face nuzzled in your neck’s warmth. “Because you’re mine. I want you to be mine. I can’t have you if you’re avoiding me, now can I? And once I’m done with you, you’ll be mine for eternity.”

“You can’t.”

“And why’s that?”

“My being, my soul, everything. It all belongs to the lord above and no one else.” You draw out a quivering breath, eyes glassy and stained red.

He laughs, the mockery in steals your breath away. It feels like a slap to your face, watching amusement shake his shoulders. Remmick’s chest deflates in satisfaction. Grinning ear to ear, his fangs show.

“And that’s why I’m doing this.”

“What—”

Deep in the side of your neck an unbearable pain erupts and burns. Your wailing voice fills the bedroom as your limbs freeze. Blood gushes in endless waves, soaking your gown’s bust area.

As expected, it shatters Remmick’s heart. Though, in the same breath euphoria fogs his mind. Filling his mouth, your blood is richly divine and deliciously sweet. He could feed on you all day and night, but that would be no fun and too cruel for his liking. He doesn’t want to hurt you or break you.

Freeing your flesh of his pointy fangs, he leans back, moaning. Mouth gapping. He devours the sight underneath him. Nonstop, tears stream and shock and pain shakes your frame. Remmick hates to admit it, but he’s savoring every minute of this. To you it’s probably mind spinning and heart wrenching. To him it's heaven on earth.

He releases your wrists. It’s no longer of use or necessary to do so.

“R-Remmick. I-It hurts…Blood…my neck won’t stop b-bleeding,” You manage to stammer through sobs.

“Shh, I know. It’ll stop eventually.”

He sits up on the bed and scoops your trembling frame into a gentle embrace, bridal style. Instinctively, lost to fear and dread, your arms hook around his neck.

“I’m scared. The blood won’t stop. I’m gonna die if it doesn’t, Remmick.” You hide your face in his chest. The stench of blood fills your nostrils. It rises bile up your dry throat.

His hand strokes your back gently as if dealing with fragile glass. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“G-God… please…help me,” you breathe one last time. Then in his warm embrace your body runs cold to the touch. Your shoulders slump as your head rolls to the side like an empty doll.

Remmick sighs, embracing your stiff head close to his chest. He didn’t want to do this, but you left him no choice. You could’ve lived as a regular human like everyone else did in town. To be kissed by the lovely sun as humans should. Too bad. Now, all you’ll ever know is darkness and the dim light of the moon.

He pecks your forehead and lightly rocks back and forth. Low and soft, he hums an Irish lullaby as he awaits your arrival.

For the rebirth of a graceful fallen angel.

…………………..

When you rise to life it’s a new day. High in the sky the sun blazes making the house sweat feverishly hot. Wrapped in his arms skin to skin, you stir awake. Your night gown sticks to your skin, doused in warm sweat. Sharp teeth in the top and bottom row of your mouth pokes your curious tongue.

Leisurely peeling away from his embrace in bed, you slip from the room out into the hall.

Home. You need to get home and fast before that vile devil awakens.

Though fog plagues your brain, memories of his cruelty still remain. Each step drains your energy and you find yourself grabbing the rough walls as if your life depends on it. More sweat glosses your skin as your body burns. You draw out ragged breaths, mind spinning like a twister. The closer you get to the door in the living room the hazier your vision becomes.

Then a stomach aching pain yanks you down on your knees. It doesn’t stop. Each stab in your gut comes in waves, sharp and acute. It’s as if your belly is devouring itself from the inside. No longer on your knees, you lay crumpled like paper, whimpering as the pain rips you apart.

“It hurts…”

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

Remmick’s voice echoes from the hallway, deep and raspy from slumber. He strolls into the living room and halts before you on the floor. Disappointment fills his eyes as he watches you, still standing tall.

“Stay away from me,” you snarl.

He only sighs. “I can’t do that.”

Easily he lifts you in his arms. Your limbs lie stiff, lacking energy to move.

“What have you done to me?”

Remmick’s feet halt, frozen. His brown round eyes meet yours. “Want me to show you?”

You don’t nod. Don’t speak. You only gaze back at him. He takes it for a yes and lazily heads for the door. The door cracks open with a soft click and a groan. He hisses as the blinding beams, stinging and smoking his skin. Remmick, he’s ancient as the sun and moon. Therefore, he can withstand the brutal heat of the sun’s light.

You on the other hand…

A gut wrenching gasp rips from your throat, skin searing into nasty open wounds. Your flesh boils and smokes as you thrash like a rabid animal. It shatters his heart seeing you cry and claw at him, desperate to hide away from the sun.

“You wanted the truth. Now you have it. Do you understand now?”

…………………..

As you two hide away from the sun’s dangerous rays, now both creatures of the dark, the entire day you avoid Remmick in every way you can. You don’t speak, touch, or even spare glances his way. Sure, the stomach aching hunger collapsing your stomach in on itself drives you mad. But the overwhelming new hatred thumping through your heart is stronger.

It breaks him. On the surface he comes off as if he’s given up on you, but underneath that long frown dragging his lips down, he knows something you don’t. Soon you’ll come around. If your brain and heart doesn’t, then surely your hollow stomach will.

So, he waits.

The days blur by and each day you never cave in to your stomach’s will nor to Remmick. Everyday he tempts you with what you eventually learned your mouth craves—blood. At first it churned your gut, but as time dragged on you began to not care. Though you never let him know.

Some days Remmick leaves the house, hunting for blood as you reside in his home. Those days are the worst for you because he comes back he’s dripping in blood. From his sharp claws, to his shirt and chin. The smell drives you insane as drool threads down your lips.

Tonight he’s gone again and you’re weaker than ever. By now even you expected Remmick to force blood down your throat. But he doesn’t. In fact he barely speaks to you anymore these past couple of days.

You lie on the couch in the living room. Its stale smell fills your senses as you toss and turn, mind haunted by mouth watering thoughts of blood. Time drags on endlessly until the front door whines open.

As usual, blood stains his shirt all the way up to the corners of his lips. The smell yanks you off the couch in one swift breath. You stand, slouched, eyes wide and frantic. Saliva drowns your mouth, seeping out the corners. Your heart thumps wildly. You need it. Want it.

Blood. It’s all your brain can fathom as he strolls across the room.

“Remmick,” you call out sharply, body trembling with an aching need.

He halts in his steps. “Yes, darlin?”

A raw whine claws its way through your throat. “Hungry…I’m hungry.”

The corners of his lips curl.

Finally.

He always knew you would come around.

………………

His blood, rich and ancient floods your tastebuds. It draws loud ragged breaths from your chest, euphoria swallowing you whole.

You don’t remember how this happened—body cradled in his lap, hips frantically rocking—needy for more. His white tailored shirt, bundled tightly in your fist as you hold on for dear life. Head buried deep in his neck, your fangs sink into his flesh. Greedily, you suck his blood as his hands guide your hips in a never ending bounce on his cock.

“That’s it, darlin. You drink as much as you want,” he breathes, chest rising and falling on loop.

You moan into his neck, eyes rolling, spine arching. Everything, it all turns you on. His blood filling your tummy, the fullness of his warm throbbing cock separating you tight walls. It’s blissful, liberating and illuminating.

You release his neck with a pop, blood decorates your lips and chin. Eyes, gazing up at nothing, breathy moans fall past your open plump lips.

“So good, Remmick. It feels good.”

“It feels good, darlin? Yeah?” He purrs, raspy and low through pants.

“Mhmm, so good.”

Your eyes glow crimson and he smiles at the sight. The irony of it all pulls a chuckle past his lips. You, the town’s sweet little preacher girl is now his. The thought swells his chest with pride.

Sounds of skin slapping, wet and sloppy fill the air, soaking your pussy wet more. Remmick’s hands drift to your asscheeks, gripping them. Starving for more of your delicious heat, he desperately bounces you on his dick. The pace, deadly quick.

“Fuck,” he grits, bitting his lips.

Your moans evolve into screams as he moves at an ungodly speed. The pleasure draws your head back, revealing your bare neck to him. Stars shiny and pretty envelope your visions as your eyes roll back.

“G-Gonna cum. I-I’m gonna cum,” you utter, spit trickling down your chin.

“Cum for me, baby.”

On his command, you cum and hard. Your body goes stiff, quivering as he keeps pumping his cock in. Like your nothing but an empty doll, he uses your tightening cunt. The endless pleasure he gives you pools tears in your eyes and your body crumples against him, shaking. Wrapping your weak arms around his neck, you hold on tightly.

“That’s it, baby. Being such a sweet girl for me. I love you so much. You’re all mine,” he huffs, voice breathy and hot.

Deep between your walls his cock throbs, releasing his creamy seed. He keeps rocking your hips against his, making sure to milk every last bit. Then when he’s done, he falls limp. His strong arms flex around your frame in a warm embrace.

The bedroom fills with your pants.

“I love you, darlin.”

Words you never would’ve uttered slip past your lips. “I love you too.”

“You belong to me, and I to you, understand?”

“Yes, Remmick,” you mutter, eyelids heavy.

“Together we’ll live together.”

“Okay.”

With him still deep inside your walls, you drift off to sleep. Soon after you he joins you, happily.

Now you’re his and he’s yours. No longer does your soul belong to God. You’re now free.

The End

A/N: Comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! I like to know what people think, hehe

[stargazedwinchester]

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `still here, still waiting, sam winchester ༘♡

summary: you've finally broken up with your ex. whilst you're venting to sam about it, you realise it's been him all along. word count: 1,059 pairing: sam winchester x reader prompt: "you're still waiting for me?" you can find the prompt list here! cred to @promptsbytaurie for the idea!

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

The beer in your hand is warm by the time you realise you’ve stopped drinking it.

Sam is sitting across from you whilst you’re venting about your breakup — pacing in the library in one of your oldest yet comfiest sweatshirts. Sam sits with one leg crossed over the other, a beer bottle also sitting comfortably in his hand. You turn around and he’s watching you like you’re the only person in the world who matters.

“Sorry. I’m rambling.” You stop mid-sentence. Sam smiles faintly at you. “It’s okay. You can ramble all you want.”

You smile back at him, sinking onto the couch next to him. “I just feel stupid. Like, how did I not see it sooner? God. Maybe I am stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” he says, his voice quieter. Softer. “Sometimes it’s easier to see the good in people than it is the bad. It’s easier that way than to admit they’re not what you need.”

After he said that, something settled in your brain. He’s right. The constant battle with yourself in your head has silenced. Sam’s not wrong, but is he just saying it to be kind?

“You always see the good in people, Sam.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I do. But I also see the truth. And you deserved better.”

Your heart twists. He’s always been kind to you, and in this moment, you start to wonder what else you’ve been too blind to see.

“You think?”

“I know you did, Y/N.”

You study him, the way his fingers curl nervously against his jeans, he shifts a little awkwardly, that shy, gentle smile sticking to his face.

Sam had been watching from the sidelines, all these months. He never said a word or crossed a line — he just kept being your friend. He always cared, more than what he let on. You’d notice, but always put it down to Sam just being… Sam. There were moments where it almost slipped, where he caught himself smiling at you for a little too long, or when you lean your head on his shoulder a little too easily. He always pulled away before it could mean something more, because you weren’t his to hope for. Not yet.

As you sit there, watching the way his thumb moves in small, absent circles over his knee, it hits you. Sam’s always been patient and quiet. He’s the one who stayed through every high and low, stayed through each sensitive moment, every time you needed a shoulder to lean on, he was there.

He always has been.

Suddenly, every memory looks different. Every laugh, every late-night conversation, it all comes into focus.

“Sam…” you say slowly, concern clouding your eyes as Sam looks at you gently. “Yeah?” He asks, running a hand through his hair. You sigh deeply, afraid of the answer he’s about to give you.

“You’re still waiting for me?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

His brows furrow. “Sorry? What for?”

“For not seeing it sooner. For not seeing you sooner.”

His demeanour changes slightly, freezing into place. “You’ve been there for me through everything. Always so kind and patient. You’ve never asked for anything in return and I hate that I didn’t see it.”

He’s quiet. His eyes just glaze over you as you figure out what to say next. “I gave my time and my heart to someone else when you were right there the whole time.”

He turns to face you, leaning his arm against the top of the sofa. “Look at me.”

You do.

“There’s nothing to regret. If this is what it took for you to see me, then I’d do it all over again.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you take his hand in yours, tangling your fingers together, squeezing his hand tight.

Sam carries on. “I just wanted you to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with me. I didn’t want to make you feel guilty.”

“I don’t feel guilty, I just—” You pause, your heart pounding. “I think I always felt it somewhere. I just wasn’t ready to see it.”

He sits there, his eyes soft and open, as if he’s telling you it’s up to you to decide. He’ll always be there, whether you want him to be or not.

You reach out, inviting him for a hug. He doesn’t hesitate, wrapping his strong arms around your back, and yours over his shoulders.

All you can do is breathe him in. Because in this moment, you feel like you’re where you need to be.

With him. With Sam.

[bullet-prooflove]

Speak Your Truth: John Carter x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @anna-bailey @ofsoapsuds @queenslandlover-93 @gemofspace

Summary: John speaks his truth in the aftermath of a tragedy.

Companion piece to:

Little John - You try to keep John's mind off the task at hand.

The First One Is Always The Hardest - You comfort John after the death of a patient.

Forget-Me-Nots - John wakes up hung over in a strange bed and with an unexpected memento of the night before.

The suicide ruins John, it breaks his heart, his will, his mind. He finds himself sitting in a chair in the waiting room staring into the abyss as he goes over all the things he could have said, that he should have said. Even after Benton talks to him it doesn’t ease, it feels like there’s a pressure bearing down on his chest, stealing away his breath.

“Hey…” You say softly as you crouch down in front of him in your street clothes.

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t answer. He just sits there, his eyes fixed on something that you simply can’t see. Your fingers grace his jawline, delicately tipping his chin to meet your gaze. He flinches and you pause, dipping your head instead.  

“John.” You murmur. “This is not your fault, sometimes people are just in too much pain…”

He doesn’t believe it, you can see it in the way his lips purse together as he looks at you with hollowed out eyes. It’s like someone has stole the light right out of them. It hurts to see him like this, in so much pain. You can patch up a physical wound, staunch the bleeding but something like this, it takes time to process, a safe environment to heal in and John, he’s all alone. His parents are in Switzerland, visiting his sister and the other people in his life…

They don’t understand his decision to become a doctor, not when his family have more money than God.

“John.” You say firmly. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

“I’ll be fine.” He responds but you know that’s not true, you can hear it in his voice, how devoid of emotion it is. He’s shutting down completely, cutting himself off from the world. That’s how it starts, you bury the mental anguish and it festers under the surface, poisoning you until you’re the one standing on the edge of that roof.

“But I won’t be.” You say, appealing to the selfless part in him. “I think we both need our friend tonight-”

“You think you need me?” He laughs, it’s a horrible dull sound that vibrates through his chest as he takes your hands in his clasping them tightly. “You don’t, you’re already brilliant and strong and brave and-”

“And I would be none of those things without you.” You kick back, your forehead coming to rest against his. “You think I would have made it this far without you fighting in my corner? Not a chance in hell. You promised me we’d do this together, that we’d take care of one another so let me take care of you. We’ll go back home to my place, put on some shitty movie, eat take out-”

“Crys…” He says helplessly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I love you, you know that don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” You tell him with a fond smile. “And I love you too…”

“Not like that.” He says, shaking his head. “I mean real love, like the type they write Hallmark movies about. I know that you don’t feel the same way but I watched a woman throw herself off a building today because she couldn’t live her truth and I gotta speak mine. I’m in love with you Crys, I have been for a long time.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[hoon1sm]

␥# all mine . ᐟᐟ☆~ p. sh

[ word count : 2.2k + of pure filth MDNI ]

[ tags + warnings : sunghoon x inexperienced virgin fem!reader, heavy corruption kink, sunghoon is kind of toxic and perverted in this, teasing, petnames, praise and degradation, choking, fingering, unprotected sex, very slight dubcon, power dynamics, kind of open ending ]

don’t like, don’t read

a/n : this concept started haunting me the moment i listened to the lyrics on the english version of bad desire and then i just kind of wrote this entire monstrosity in one sitting… i promise the next thing i post will be another request! written and edited by me so i apologize if there are mistakes !! comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💗

from the moment he saw you, he knew he would do anything to make you his. everything about you was pretty. from the way your hair was tied up with a bow, to the white lacy dress you were wearing, to the shiny lipgloss on your pouty lips, to the sparkly pink eyeshadow matching with your lip color. all of it just accentuated how innocent you looked. and he was going to be the one to ruin you.

he knows he is goodlooking, so of course it’s easy for him to weave his way into your life. he meets you in the library first. presenting himself as a caring and friendly studying partner and later on becoming a friend, always willing to listen whenever you need someone to confide in. he starts coming over to your place more and more frequently, insisting that cuddling while watching a movie is a perfectly fine thing for two friends to do. he always makes sure to touch your soft skin, grazing his fongertips along your waist or hips absentmindedly after very carefully moving your shirt up a little.

“sunghoon… i think… i need your help?” now that is odd. not the fact that you’re asking him to help you with something, but your hesitation in asking has him paying closer attention. he turns his head slightly to look you in the eyes, you’re so close it’s hard for him not to imagine rolling over on top of you, pushing up your loose sleep shirt, pulling your panties to the side and taking you right here in your own bed, movie be damned. but, he is a sensible man and he can control himself. of course.

“you know you can ask me anything, right?” he purposely lowers his voice a little, taking note of the way you’re shifting uncomfortably, hands busy picking at the bedsheets you’re lying under. you’re clearly nervous about something.

you cast your eyes down, embarrassed. “well, it’s just… recently i went out with hayeon and my other friends, right?” he nods his head, and starts drawing little circles on your shoulder with his thumb in an attempt to comfort you. “well, so, like… god, this is embarrassing.” you take a deep breath before continuing. “but, like, they were all talking about their boyfriends, and then somehow we wound up at the topic of me being still a virgin, and that sort of spiraled into them making fun of me for it, and so i guess my question to you is would you please be my first?”

fuck. is he dreaming? you’re finally asking him to ruin your innocence forever?

“…excuse me?”

your reaction is immediate. pulling away from his hold, taking his surprise as rejection. avoiding his eye contact, cheeks burning red in shame. “nevermind, forget i asked.” you mumble. “you should probably go now, or whatever.”

he pulls you back down from where you were attempting to stand up off the bed, his hands circling your wrists. “look at me,” he demands. you look up at him again. fuck, you’re so gorgeous. the tears welling up in your eyes from embarrassment are not helping him either. “are you sure you want this with me?” because even if it’s everything he’s been waiting on, he wants to make sure you are ready for this.

you blink away your tears and nod, looking a little more confident. “there’s no one i trust more than you, hoonie.” and just the sound of your voice speaking his name like that has him feeling weak already. this is finally happening. he finally has you where he’s wanted you all along.

it’s all he can take before he lets go of your wrists, tilts your head slightly by grabbing your neck and moves in to kiss you. he’s forceful from the start, immediately noting how truly inexperienced you are even in something as simple as kissing. you’re perfect for him. he licks his way into your mouth, moving one of his hands into your hair and pulling just a little bit, relishing in the soft moan you let out at the sensation. oh, he’s going to have so much fun with you.

he breaks away first, leaving you chasing his lips while trying to catch your breath. so cute. his hands feel at the hem of your shirt. he hesitates, raising his eyebrows and silently asking for your permission to take the garment off. “please,” comes your response and fuck, he’s really straining in his pants now from hearing you beg like that. he pulls off your shirt gently, and lays you down on the bed, hovering over you after taking off his own t-shirt and shorts. he catches you glancing down at his boxers, your eyes widening and your mouth slightly agape. he smirks. “don’t worry, i’m not gonna hurt you. we’ll go slowly,” he promises, at first is what he thinks after.

and shit he really wishes he could take a picture of you like this. looking at him with so much trust, still looking so perfectly innocent in your matching set of white lacy underwear. and fuck, is that a thong you’re wearing? he’s gonna lose his mind. “you’re so pretty, sweetheart. been thinking about this for a long time,” he confesses. he hadn’t meant to say that part out loud, but it slips out anyway. the way you smile at him so sweetly upon hearing this makes it worth it though.

he starts off slow, attaches his lips to your neck and busies himself with sucking pretty marks into your skin. now that he has you, he’s gonna make damn sure everyone knows that you’re his. you’re responsive to everything, letting out breathy noises each time he grazes his teeth against your skin, revealing once again how little experience you have doing this.

“sunghoon…” god. your voice sounds wrecked already and he has barely done anything yet. “what is it baby?” he asks. the petname slipping out easily. “can you…” your hands come up to cover your face in embarrassment, but he’s quick to grab your wrists together in one of his hands and pins them above your head instead. you’re completely at his mercy now. “don’t hide from me, pretty girl. and use your words.”

“hoonie,” you all but whine. “please… please just- please touch me?” and fuck, he’s imagined this scenario about a million different times in the privacy of his own room with his cock in his hand, but nothing could come close to hearing you say those words to him in real life.

“yeah baby? want me to touch you and make you feel good?” he brushes his fingertips over the top of your panties, and you whine again. you sound so pretty, and he wants nothing more than to make you feel good. so he lets go of your wrists, hooks his thumbs under the band of your underwear and pulls down, groaning at the sight of the string of slick connecting to your cunt. your panties are absolutely ruined, soaked with your wetness. those are definitely never gonna end up in your closet again, they are his now. “fuck. pretty girl you’re so wet for me already.” your cheeks burn red at the praise. but he pays attention to the way your expression turns brighter. noted. “gonna be my good little girl, hmm?”

he’s committed to drinking in every little expression that flits across your face as he brings his fingers up to your core and gently rubs across your slit, careful to not push in yet. you’re gasping so prettily, but your eyes turn darker, pupils blown wide with lust as your hands reach up to pull him in for another kiss.

he lets you make out with him for a while, before finally curling one of his fingers into your sopping hole. you pull away with a moan.

“need to stretch you out a bit before you can take my cock, baby. ‘cute little hole can barely fit one finger.” you’re panting now, letting out pretty noises everytime he moves his digit and he briefly wonders if you could come just from one finger alone. but the way you’re moaning at his actions paired with the sight of you has him so painfully hard that that will have to be a theory to test out next time. at the moment he’s overwhelmed by how much he needs to be inside of you, needs to mold your insides to fit the shape of his cock.

“gonna add another now,” he informs you as he stretches your hole to fit two of his fingers. suddenly you arch off the bed, eyes wide. “sunghoon- hoonie- gonna…if you keep going i’ll-”

“shh baby, sunghoonie’s got you. just let go for me pretty girl.” he continues moving his digits expertly, rubbing your clit with his thumb. you look gorgeous as you reach your orgasm, eyes screwn shut, fists grasping at the bedsheets, your mouth open and letting out the prettiest noise he’s heard from you yet. “there you go, sweetheart. so pretty for me. my good girl.”

he lets you come down from the wave of pleasure before pulling out his fingers. he makes a split-second decision and holds his hand up in front of your face. you blink up at him in question and it makes you look so cute and innocent again, even though he just made you come on his fingers and is about to shove them down your throat. “why don’t you clean my fingers off nice and good for me, sweetheart?”

you’re so obedient in your post-orgasm daze, immediately opening up your mouth and sucking in his fingers so sweetly. he presses down on your tongue and pretty tears spring up in your eyes again as you gag. his self control is wearing extremely thin at this point, he needs to make you cry on his cock right now.

he pulls away and takes off his underwear in one swift motion. “gonna fuck you now, pretty girl.” he rasps out, his own voice straining from how aroused he is. “gonna make you mine.” he rubs his cock between your folds and it has you both gasping from the sensation.

“wait,” you start. he raises an eyebrow, but continues moving. “sunghoonie wait. shouldn’t we use a condom?” and it’s cute. cute how responsible you still manage to be in a situation like this. but he needs you to be his in every way possible. “baby it’s gonna feel so much better without one. don’t you want to feel good?” his tip catches on your hole as he moves it between your slit again, and he pushes in. “besides, you’re on the pill right?” he has half a mind to hope you won’t question why he knows that information, but from the way your hands are pulling at him to move closer, he gathers you’re probably too far gone by now.

“hurts,” you whine as he slowly drags his cock along your walls, pushing in a little further with each stroke. “i know it hurts, pretty girl, but it’s never gonna fit otherwise.” your eyes are watering again, and something in him just snaps. his thrusts become harsher as he speeds up, reveling in the tears that now run down your face at the sensation.

“taking me so well, baby. it’s gonna feel good soon, sunghoonie promises.” your hands are clawing at his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself. your voice sounds broken at this point as you lose yourself in the pleasure, and it’s beyond what he’d imagined. but fuck, sunghoon is a greedy man and he needs more.

your eyes fly open in shock as he loosely wraps a hand around your neck, effectively covering the bruises he’d left there earlier. your hands come up to grab his wrist, but you don’t push him away. interesting. you truly are exactly what he was hoping for, all his to ruin forever. “love this don’t you, sweetheart?” he makes sure to keep eye contact with you, hovering over you as he takes in just how much power he has over you right now. “gonna make you my perfect little slut. all mine. all for me.”

he doesn’t apply pressure with his hand, it is your first time after all, but he lets it sit there, lets you get used to the weight of it. and you look so pretty, laid out on your own bed for him in the most sinful way, with your bra still on, but his cock moving in and out of your tight little hole. exactly how he’s wanted you from the beginning.

“please hoonie… i’m yours. all yours.” he’s close to coming too, and you’re not making it easy on him by sounding so pretty. still, he is a gentleman and wants you to come first. he brings his hand down between you again and finds your clit with his fingers. it only takes him a few more strokes before you’re moaning brokenly, eyes squeezing shut as you orgasm once more. he looks down to where you are connected and the sight of you coming around his cock, so tight and so wet is enough to make him come too. he rides out his own high then carefully pulls out.

fuck. this is why he needed to fuck you raw. the sight of his cum mixed with yours spilling out of you is almost enough to get him hard again, and his head spins a little with the rush. he’ll have to buy you a plug someday, this shouldn’t be going to waste like that. but that can wait. right now he’s concerned with taking care of you.

he is quick to wipe the tears off your face. your pretty is makeup ruined in the best way possible. “it’s okay baby. did so well for me, pretty girl. all mine, huh? my little slut?”

[ild-rllrcstr]

The surprise

Yuki Tsunoda X You / fluff / 2K

Summary Yuki wanted to give you a surprise birthday party, but he didn’t expect it to go south…

Warning Misunderstanding

A/N This one is for the request! I’ll be on vacation for the weekend, probably won’t update but I’ll come back with some new stories!!!

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡

It’s been weeks now, since Australia, and China, Yuki’s been spending a lot of time talking to Francisca, whenever you approach the two, they seem to change the subject quickly.

It’s frustrating you. You were never the kind of girlfriend who questioned Yuki all the time, the trust between the two of you was built throughout the years that’s solid enough for you to start doubting.

You tried to talk to Yuki about it, but he kept brushing it off, telling you they were just talking about random things and Francisca asking him about things about Japan. And plus your exams were not really helping either. Nothing sits right. Even Pierre was acting weird. He’s usually cheerful and cool about everything, but he was being more distant, like he was caught on to something, as if he knew something that you don’t.

Susuka is always beautiful around April, flowers blooming everywhere, in the streets, even around the track field. But you could’ve fully enjoy it with what is happening.

You were looking for Yuki, you went to the drivers’ room and everywhere in the paddock but he was nowhere to be found. Returning to the hospitality, you saw him sitting super close with Francisca, his head was hovering her shoulder to see whatever was on that ipad, he was paying so much attention, that none of them realised you were not far. Didn’t want to rage out, you left.

You left Suzuka on the day of qualifying, you took a train to Nara which was not far away, you went to the famous Nara park where deers naturally live. It has always been your way to recharge emotionally, to be close to nature. You ignored the phone calls and texts, fully being with yourself and nature.

As the sun dipped low behind the hills, golden light spilling across the quiet park, you finally turned your phone back on. Missed calls and texts piling up the notification. A sinking feeling settled in your chest.

Yuki : Where did you go? Just finished qualifying, starting P7 tomorrow!

Missed call from Yuki (3)

Yuki : Are you mad or something?

Missed call from Yuki (2)

Missed call from Pierre (2)

Yuki : Please, at least tell me you're safe.

Pierre : Hey, Yuki’s worried sick after the qualifying, please call us.

Francisca : The boys are freaking out, please at least call me.

Yuki : Y/N, if you’re mad, just talk to me. I promise there’s a reason for all of this.

Yuki : Please, just call me. Please. It’ll make sense. I swear.

Missed call from Yuki (5)

Missed call from Francisca (3)

Missed call from Max (2)

Missed call from Unknown (4)

Yuki : I’m not okay not knowing where you are. I feel like I ruined everything.

Pierre : If you're mad, you can talk to me first if you want, just let us know you are okay, we are really worried.

Missed call from Yuki (4)

The last message was from 2 hours ago.

Yuki : If you’re not coming back, I understand. But I’ll wait. As long as it takes.

On exiting the park, someone shouting your name took you by surprise “Y/N!” It was Pierre.

Pierre was jogging toward you, visibly out of breath.

“Wha… What are you doing here?” you asked, disoriented.

“Thank God,” he exhaled, relief washing over his face. “We’ve been going crazy.”

“You came all the way here?”

“What are you doing ignoring every call and text?”

“I just… I needed air. Time to think.”

“Come on,” he said gently, guiding you toward a black rental car parked by the road. “It’s getting late. Let’s go back.”

As you got into the passenger seat, you glanced sideways at him. “How did you even find me?”

“Francisca spotted someone’s Instagram story. Some photos of you here with some deer.”

You gave a small, bitter laugh. “Figures.”

He hesitated. “So… was this about Yuki and Francisca?”

You looked out the window as the car began moving. The soft lights of Nara faded behind you.

You didn’t answer. Not yet.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡

(2 hours ago, after qualifying)

Yuki sat with his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, still in his fireproofs. The media duties were done. The fans were gone. But he was still stuck in the same seat, waiting.

Across from him, Pierre paced restlessly, fingers running through his hair for the fifth time in ten minutes.

“She still hasn’t read the messages,” Yuki muttered, eyes glued to the screen. “Not one. Pierre… she saw me and Francisca together. I think she thought…”

“She did,” Pierre said, blunt but not unkind. “Y/N’s not stupid. She’s just hurt.”

“She knows I’d never…” Yuki’s voice broke off, jaw clenched. “I didn’t even do anything! We were planning her birthday. It’s for her.”

Pierre turned, folding his arms. “You have to admit, it looked bad. You two whispering, leaning in like that every time she came around. Francisca dodging her questions. Me dodging them.”

“You were supposed to help distract her!”

“I was!” Pierre snapped. “But Yuki, it’s hard to distract someone who's slowly realizing she’s being left out of something by the three people she trusts the most.”

Yuki stood up, frustrated. “I thought keeping it secret would make it better. I wanted her to feel surprised. Celebrated. Not... suspicious.”

Pierre sighed, softer this time. “I know. And she would’ve loved it, man. The cake, the flowers, the track walk. Even Max was onboard.”

“Now she’s gone.”

They both looked down at the phone on the table. The unanswered messages.

Then Pierre’s phone buzzed. He looked at it.

He froze.

“…She’s in Nara,” he said.

Yuki whipped around. “What?”

Pierre turned the screen to show him. “Cisca said someone just posted a story with her in Nara Park.”

Without a second thought, Yuki reached for his keys. “I’ll go.”

“No, I’ll go,” Pierre said quickly. “You go and get ready with Cisca.”

Yuki hesitated. “Do you think she’ll even react well with this situation?”

Pierre gave him a look. “Might as well try.”

He squeezed Yuki’s shoulder once, before jogging toward the lot.

Yuki sat back down, heart hammering. The surprise decorations were half done. The cake was still in the fridge. The sky was already dimming.

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The ride back from Nara was mostly silent. Pierre didn’t push, didn’t explain much. He just drove, glancing at you every now and then as if making sure you were really still there.

When the car pulled into the paddock area, the place looked... different.

It was quieter than usual for a race weekend, but something felt strange. The hospitality unit had soft lights glowing around it. A trail of flower petals stretched along the walkway, like a pink carpet stretched out to you. Pierre stopped walking suddenly. He looked at you.

"You should go in alone," he said. “Just… trust me.”

“…Why?”

He hesitated. “It was for today. For you.”

“What?” Your stomach twisted.

He gave a small smile. “Go see for yourself.”

You walked forward slowly, heart pounding. Every step felt heavier than the last.

You rounded the corner, toward the Red Bull hospitality patio… and stopped dead.

“SURPRISE!!”

Voices rang out from the crowd gathered under the strung lights. Balloons, cherry blossoms, and banners waved in the golden light. A huge cake sat on a decorated table, its soft green and pink colors blooming like spring itself.

Your name. On the cake.

“To the best and most hard-working girl in the paddock.”

Francisca, Max, Liam, and even some of the mechanics and team staff were clapping, smiling. Cameras flashed. And right in the centre, Yuki.

Still in his race suit, looking like he hadn’t slept in a week. His eyes found yours immediately. And you just froze.

“I…” you started, but your voice cracked, eyes watering.

Yuki stepped forward, carefully. His expression was soft. Hopeful. Desperate.

“Before you say anything,” he said gently, “let me explain.”

You stared at him. The cake. The flowers. The people. The lights.

All the strange behavior. The hushed conversations. Francisca’s guilty glances. Pierre’s distance.

You felt your chest tighten as emotions tumbled out of nowhere, guilt, shock, love, relief. Tears were burning behind your eyes before you could stop them.

“I thought I lost you,” you whispered, voice trembling.

“You didn’t,” Yuki said quietly, stepping closer. “I just… almost lost you.”

He pulled something from behind his back, a small box. Inside it was a delicate charm bracelet. He held it out, not forcing it into your hands.

“I wanted you to feel how important you are. To me. To all of us. I just… really screwed up how I went about it.”

You looked at him. At all of it. And then finally, you stepped forward, straight into his arms.

He held you like he’d been waiting days to do it.

Around you, people cheered. Francisca wiped a tear from her eye. Pierre gave a dramatic sigh of relief. The lights glowed a little warmer.

And just like that, the worst misunderstanding turned into a moment you’d never forget.

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The cake was half-eaten. The crowd had dispersed. The lights strung around the hospitality now glowed a little dimmer, humming quietly in the background like a lullaby.

You and Yuki had slipped away hours ago, hand in hand, without a word. Your room at the nearby hotel was warm and still smelled faintly like sakura from the flower arrangements someone had left in the corner.

Yuki shut the door softly behind you and leaned against it, just watching you.

“You really scared me,” he said, his voice low, almost hoarse.

You turned to him slowly, still wearing his oversized hoodie over your dress. “You scared me, Yuki. I thought…”

He crossed the room in two steps, reaching for your hands.

“I know,” he murmured, threading his fingers through yours. “I hate that I let it get that far. I should’ve noticed. Should’ve said something sooner. You looked at me like I was a stranger.”

You swallowed. “You looked like someone I didn’t recognize.”

That made him flinch. He pulled your hands to his chest, holding them tight over his heart.

“You know what’s worse than you thinking I cheated?” he said, voice rough. “You thinking I’d hide anything from you. Especially on a day like this. Especially you.”

You looked up at him, the space between you thin as paper.

“I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you,” you whispered.

“I know,” he breathed. “But just hearing you say that...”

You reached up, pressing your lips to his before he could finish. It wasn’t gentle. It was months of exams and stress, of silent worry and seeing him with someone else, of misreading every glance and whisper.

It was a kiss that said we almost didn’t make it.

He kissed you back like he needed you more than air, hands rising to your face, your hair, pulling you in as if he still wasn’t convinced you were real.

“You’re here,” he whispered against your lips, pushing his forehead to yours. “I almost ruined everything.”

“You didn’t,” you whispered. “You brought me back. And it was amazing.”

He chuckled softly, shaky, like he was still catching his breath. His hands slipped under the hoodie, his hoodie, resting warm on your waist.

“You wore this on purpose,” he murmured against your neck. “You knew I’d lose it.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth brushed over your jawline, slow, deliberate.

“I wore it because I missed you.”

He backed you gently toward the bed, never breaking contact. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of the hoodie, trailing up your back, learning you all over again.

“No more secrets,” he said against your collarbone.

“Only surprises,” you murmured.

He grinned, that crooked Yuki grin you hadn’t seen in days, before pulling the hoodie over your head in one smooth motion.

“I missed this,” he whispered, lowering you onto the sheets, his voice already husky. “Missed us.”

And this time, there was no confusion, no distance, no silence.

Only hands, mouths, breath, and skin.

Only him and you, finally in sync again.

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[threegoldfish]

The loss of physical contact is noted, but thankfully does not seem to cause Steven any discomfort; He's too focused on what they're talking about, and he's... feeling a lot better already, yes. Still worried, still sad, still a little panicked somewhere within himself - but Harrow promised to not sedate him, promised Steven wouldn't be restrained, and he's here, keeping him company.

All of that helps so, so much to make this more endurable, even though the nose (and a split lip, Steven assumes?) are certainly annoying him, yeah. So is that headache he still has... but... he can do this, it isn't as bad anymore as it was mere moments ago - the shock of not knowing where he is, why everything hurts the way it does, finally faded away enough to allow him to breathe more easily, have that tremble calm down with the seconds passing.

Another sigh, a glance back at that nose spray ... and Steven reaches for it, carefully, closes his fingers around the bottle to bring it close, read along the label. ---Says a bunch of stuff he has never heard of before, but... it does look like a normal nose spray, and it looks like they must've used it on him before. Hm.

"... I hope he won't feel weird w-when some random person's writing him all of a sudden." Thoughtful, again, without Steven taking his gaze away from the bottle; He opens it and then... uses it, one pump of that spray into each nostril. Honestly, Steven doesn't even know why he's aware of this being okay for him, or why he knows how to use it, but... he doesn't think about it, not at all, just grimaces a bit at the odd tickle it causes inside his nose. Ugh, that's... kinda disgusting! But... oh, he thinks he can already feel it working, the pressure easing a bit---

"I mean, I-I wouldn't feel weird, I would feel ... happy, y-yeah! Happy that someone wrote me! But... I know that other people don't a-always... agree with what I feel. So... I-I mean, I can try, yeah! maybe it would make him feel a bit... better?"

Gaze back on Harrow, something almost hopeful within those dark eyes - and Steven sniffles, honest to god sniffles, to which his eyes widen and that smile returns, attention back on the bottle of nose spray. "Oh, this helps!" Like a kid elated about something cool happening, Steven giggles a bit, decides to keep the bottle - putting it into the pocket of his sweatpants. "---N-not being able to breathe through the nose is... a-annoying, like, so much! Never get your nose hurt like that, doctor, it... i-it really sucks, yeah."

Another swallow, and Steven... looks back at Harrow, the man who had made his way over in the middle of the night just for him! That... oh gosh, makes him feel guilty again, causes Steven to take in the sight of him a bit more, the way he sits there---

"I...I can tell that you... rushed to see me." Sheepish, a little, with Steven clearing his throat, cheeks burning with shame. "I... appreciate it. A lot. I'm... sorry it happened. R-really am. I don't like being a burden, y'know? I... I-I prefer to handle things alone, so no one is getting annoyed or something... ---I'm okay now, I feel a lot better. You... don't need to stay. But..."

Another glance toward the nurse, then back at Harrow - something almost scared now there again, all over his still messy and bloody features, as he leans in a bit, eyes wide-open, pleading.

"---Can I... go back to my room, please? I... I-I don't wanna be alone with her, and... I... I really wanna... uhm." A nod toward his own bloody shirt. "...Clean up. Take a shower. Can you... c-can you give me the clear to do all of that? I... I think if I stay here with her, I'll just... y-y'know, panic again?"

Arthur’s chest tightened again, as he nodded once more. There was something softer in him, something almost sad; he didn’t like lying to Steven, didn’t like spinning careful half-truths. But it was the safest way to break to Steven what all was going on; let him know Marc, first. Let him get to know the man, before letting him know that they were one and the same; it would be too jarring to do it all at once. They’d do it in steps - and the same for Marc. 

He had a suspicion that Marc knew more than he let on - but if the man didn’t, then he would need to be gently eased into it, as well. 

“I think he’d love it,” Arthur promised. “But he might not know how to say it. He needs to hear that he’s not a bad man, that someone sees something good in him. And I think he’d like it, because I think you’d be very genuine about it. I think you’re very good at seeing the good in people, Steven. And that’s a rare gift.” 

He smiled, both reassuring and simply happy that Steven’s speaking was calming down. Less stuttering, a bit smoother - longer sentences. He found comfort in being able to give care, perhaps; it could be good for Steven to have someone to talk to, to care for. And it’d be good for Marc to have someone like that - someone who could care for him with this genuine kindness, a friend at the end of things. 

“You don’t have to say anything specific, if you don’t want to. You can just… write about yourself. Introduce yourself, tell him the stuff you like and what you don’t. If you’re a morning person or a night person. He might not write back right away, but I think he’ll read it. And I think that’d help him with a lot of stuff.” 

He stayed rubbing Steven’s back for a few moments longer, before letting his hand drop, just to see how Steven handled the brief loss of physical comfort. Steven seemed to be doing better - but Arthur wouldn’t be leaving him alone for a bit, not until he knew that Steven would be fine on his own. 

“As for the nurse… I’ll speak with her later, yeah. That’s not how we treat people here, there’s no excuse.” He’d yell at her, was what he’d do; he’d scream at her, would take this to higher ups. Treating anyone like that, violent or not— there was no excuse. 

[leighsartworks216]

Okay your workingdad!Sylus thoughts are amazing. Some prompts that come to mind:

I love the idea of his diaper bag contents doubling up as improvised weapons. Like, someone lunges for him mid-meeting and Sylus just knocks him out with a metal sippy cup while he burps the baby.

Or The World’s Quietest Arms Deal with napping baby and some intensely threatening negotiations held at the quietest whisper possible, one person raises their voice and Sylus shuts them up with a spare pacifier.

Feel free to ignore these if you’re not interested but this whole concept has brought me so much joy lol I needed this today xx

Oh my god the pacifier 💀

Main Masterlist

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The room is tense. Well, it was tense before he even walked in, but now the added frustration of keeping their voices down has multiplied it tenfold.

Sylus' brow is pinched tight. His eyes glare at the others around the table. He's already tired, forced to come here during the daytime while his beloved took a day for themself, forced to come here during his daughter's own nap time. He's grown deeply fond of sharing this time with her, cradling her against his chest where he can feel her heart beat against his, petting the soft tufts of white hair just beginning to show.

Now he has to settle for holding her to him while he whispers heated negotiations and not-so-vague threats over her head.

It's not going well. It's not uncommon for the N109 Zone bosses to come together like this to discuss feuds and land-grabs, but it's just giving him a damn headache. He isn't going to budge his own territory to this inexperienced prick. And he isn't standing for any threats to claim it by force. His daughter and spouse live here; why would he give up land now when his instincts seek only to claim more and more for his darlings?

He sighs as he looks down at his sleeping angel's face. She's so at peace. Chubby cheeks, long eyelashes, pouty lips that shimmer with drool. He could never tire of the sight.

So when the man down the table slams his fist down and raises his voice, and his little dragon's face cinches in an upset grimace, it's a miracle he doesn't kill him.

No, instead his hand shoots out. Red tendrils of energy angrily dart for the man. Wrap around his body, containing him back down in his chair, arms held tight to the wood, enough for it to creak under the pressure. The man opens his mouth to shout his protests, but just as he does so, a little bright pink pacifier is behind shoved into his gob. Red tendrils wrap around it and his head, keeping him from spitting it out.

Sylus' glare is deadly. Sharp. Dangerous. He puts a finger to his lips. The whole room is silenced at once. People stilled in their seats for fear the slightest creak will bring his wrath down on them.

He looks back down at his daughter. He shushes her softly, brushing a knuckle against her cheek. As quick as it came, the grimace eases. She relaxes back into her dreams. Nuzzles her cheek against his shoulder, wiping her drool onto his expensive shirt. He lets out a quiet breath of relief.

Red eyes that seem to glow with warning set on the restrained man. In a low whisper, he utters, "I will not be moved."

His chair slides out silently. He grabs the diaper bag from under the table as though it's a briefcase. Turns on his heel and heads for the door. The energy loosens its hold, ripping the pacifier from his mouth and chasing after Sylus to drop it into the bag, just as the door closes with a soft click behind him.

[syrecjh]

I think ur writing is peak so pls don’t disappear 🙂‍↔️

Not sure if you write for platonic but if yes, can I have a child being a fan and asking for katsuki’s autograph? I think that’d be so cuteee tyty

Omg, thank you so much 🥺 and that’s such a cute request! I’ve never really tried writing from a child’s POV before, but I love challenges—and I loved writing this one for you. Hope you enjoy it! Feel free to send more requests—I’m running out of ideas. xoxo 💜

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

ᯓ★˙📷 ༘ The Day the Poster Came Alive

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ || platonic katsuki bakugo x child reader

Mama said to wait outside.

She had forgotten her phone or wallet or something—I wasn't listening too well. I was too busy counting the cracks on the sidewalk and pretending they were stepping stones over lava. You know, the usual.

And then…

I saw him.

Not on TV. Not in a poster. Not behind a glowing screen where heroes live like dreams you can’t touch.

No, he was real.

Katsuki Bakugo — Dynamight.

In the flesh. In full gear. Boots smudged with battle, jaw set like he’d just come back from yelling at the wind itself. He walked down the street like the earth owed him room to pass.

My heart? Gone. Vanished. Probably exploded like one of his quirk blasts.

He was right there. Just a few meters away.

I clutched the notebook in my little backpack — the one I’d doodled his logo all over, and scribbled “Future Sidekick of Dynamight” on the back cover. My hand was shaking so bad I almost dropped my pen. I wanted to go up to him, really I did, but…

He looked kind of scary. Not like a villain — just like someone who doesn't have time for little girls with starry eyes and jelly shoes.

But he looked at me.

Me.

And his brows twitched down a little before he tilted his head. “You want an autograph or somethin’?”

My brain stopped. Completely. All I could do was nod, too fast, like one of those bobbleheads in Mama’s car.

He walked over, crouched just enough to meet my height, and held out a gloved hand. I fumbled my notebook toward him like it was sacred. “Got a pen?”

“Y-Yeah!” I squeaked, voice jumping two octaves. “I—I’ve got, like, six.”

He took one, signed with a firm, fast swoop, and handed it back with a grunt. “There. Kid’s got guts, waitin’ out here like that.”

I blinked. “You really think I’m brave?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You walked up to Dynamight with knees shakin’ and still held out your book. Yeah, I do.”

“Is it hard being a hero?” I asked, words tumbling out now that I found my breath.

“Sometimes,” he said, not in a scary voice but like he was letting me in on a grown-up secret. “But worth it. Every damn time.”

Before I could ask another question, I heard Mama calling me from the building entrance.

“There you are—oh my god,” she froze, blinking. “Is that… Dynamight?!”

“Yep,” he muttered, clearly used to the reaction.

I turned to Mama so fast I nearly toppled over. “He signed my notebook! And he said I was brave!”

My mom, laughing with that mix of disbelief and mom-pride, lifted her phone. “Can I take a photo?”

Bakugo didn’t say no. He just… knelt a little so I could stand beside him, and when I leaned close, he ruffled my hair once — rough but gentle, like a big brother you’d never expect to have.

The picture clicked.

I smiled so wide it hurt.

He stood up, already turning to walk away, but before he disappeared into the crowd again, he looked over his shoulder and said, “Keep that bravery, kid. World needs it.”

And just like that, he was gone — a comet streaking back into the sky.

But he left behind a page in my notebook…

and a whole galaxy in my chest.