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bludbaff · 2 days ago

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Waiting all night | Simon “Ghost” Riley x afab!reader

3.2k wc | nsfw, 18+ | summary - you meet the eye of a stranger across the bar |

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Solace isn’t something you usually seek to find at the bottom of a bottle.

Yet, you run your thumb over the glass where it’s held in your grasp, watching as the streak of condensation falls into droplets that cascade downward. Leaving a rim of water that sits beneath your drink and wobbles with each passing set of footsteps from patrons as they trudge past your booth and cause the old carpeted floorboards to creak as they go.

It’s unclear how you’ve found yourself here, your routine is usually so set in stone; never differentiating from the daytime hours spent pouring over a laptop screen and the blurry nights spent nursing a spliff before inevitably falling asleep on the sofa. It’s a comfortable enough way to live, not many worries other then the typical spiral that comes around once in a while, usually brought on by hormones or a particularly lonely few days when you’re off work or too deep in your own head.

You’ve passed this particular pub so many times on the route home, never sparing it more than a passing glance, the sign that swings from the twisted metal bracket reads an un-unique name - The Red Lion.

It’s unassuming in it’s appearance and it’s aura; chunky white bricks and dark Tudor beams, nestled on the corner of a quiet street that sees little to no nightlife bar the odd retired miner that needs some quiet time out of the house or the rare university pub crawl that marks this place on the route only to discover how unwelcome they actually are. Not directly unwelcome, no, but the vibe is enough to have them swivelling on their heels to take their antics elsewhere. This place is definitely something more tame that’s suited better to the locals.

Suppose that included you. Bunched with the demographic, nursing a cider on an otherwise calm Thursday night, listening to the rugby that’s playing in the background-it’s a catch up from Sunday. Sat enjoying the odd sense of peace that sits in the air between the smell of stale salted crisps and tap beer.

You don’t particularly believe in fate or divine intervention, not the whole spiel of ‘everything happens for a reason’ either - you’d always been somewhat of a pessimist. A realistic expectation of life and it’s events, simply guided by your own actions and intentions; fully accepting of what might occur on the journey and the implications that might have on you.

It wasn’t fate that brought you here, no, something else entirely perhaps. A feeling - a magnetic pull in your chest that you could neither explain nor argue against.

That’s a realisation you come to when you meet eyes with him.

Even from across the shabby dimly-lit pub, you can see the full depth in his eyes. The shape of him is a blur of dark tones and a large hulking frame, yet, his eyes almost glow in the tinted-yellow light. Hickory brown, illuminated amber when the light catches them briefly - almost matching the deep-rich colour of the whiskey that sloshes in his tumbler when he moves his hand.

The staring isn’t intentional. You might have felt embarrassed for being caught looking, a lingering glance that drags on into a stare - but he had been looking right at you first. The stranger doesn’t make any move to look away, nor is his gaze uneasy, you’ve felt it many times before - felt like someone is watching, only to turn your head and see a grubby middle aged man staring at you like you’re nothing more then a slab hanging from a butchers meat hook.

He’s different, in a way you’re not sure you’d be able to explain away if someone asked you.

From the distance between the two of you, it’s clear he’s a handsome man. Rough around the edges, from the rugged tufts of dirty blonde hair that curl across his forehead to the clear indent of a silvery-pink scar that cuts through his lips and curves up over his right cheek bone. His features are angular and sharp, a cut throat man if you’ve ever seen one. Still it’s his eyes; the way they look right at you, their path intentional when they roam to your chest and back up again, so dark and yet so inviting. Like a predator. Shark like.

It’s you who breaks the contact first. Not really willing to but doing it nonetheless, a heat sinking from your throat to your stomach; one that isn’t from the booze.

The ice in your drink has melted by the time you go to take a sip, rendering it a watery and lukewarm disappointment. It’s not as late as you hope it is, scanning your eyes over your phone screen to see it’s barely nine o’clock, it feels like you’ve been here so much longer. When you scan your eyes back across the pub, the man is gone, from your seat you can see that his glass is empty - a wrinkled twenty pound note sitting under it.

You’d never admit it; would hate to have to admit it, but the slim chance that you might see the stranger again is what keeps bringing you back again. Eyes wandering, fingers tapping against your glass, neck craning in the direction of the door every time the little bell above it jingles - it’s never him.

Perhaps he’s not local, just passing through the town, a pit stop for a thumb of shit whiskey before he’s on his way again. You’re not sure what’s so intriguing, maybe it’s his eyes, the fact his stare didn’t make you as uncomfortable as it should have done. Bizarre really; thinking about it, coming out of your way for the slight chance you might catch a glimpse of this rugged stranger.

The clock ticks. The speakers above the wood-framed head of the bar fizzle out into static background noise, the idle hum of locals chattering drifts and the evening drones on and on until it’s just you and a few other stragglers. It’s another Thursday, still as quiet as usual, and even the street outside is as dead as dust.

Wet earth fogs the air. The cobbled streets reflect the light from the street lamps and the wind drifts with the smell of the freshly ploughed fields from over the hill. A small town in an even smaller county, a back burner place that’s not really somewhere - the space between leaving and arriving. Some come here to retire, others come here to hide, you’ll never know which. There’s a varied diversity of people here, families with small children and old biddies that have always lived in the same house since they were just a tot; others came here searching for peace but most come to simply get away.

Which one are you?

It’s always the stars that catch your eye. Sitting pretty up against the backdrop of the midnight sky, bleeding tones of navy blue and inky black- fading together. It’s a vast plain that stretches further than the eye can reach, yet you try, always - fascinated.

“Never understood the appeal”

The voice startles you, if only slightly, you thought you were the only one out here.

Your neck cranes to the source of the voice, as you stand just past the doorway of the pub you can see the same hulking figure from before.

He seems even taller out here. No longer slumped into an old bar chair that’s probably as old as you are, out here he’s able to move freely. The stranger is partially hidden in the dim light, the street lamps are on the other side of the street - sparing the both of you from their balmy amber light.

“Maybe you need to look up once in a while” you raise a brow, unsure if he can even see it, you don’t move to step closer.

The stranger grumbles some form of amusement, lifting a cigarette to his mouth before lighting it, only when he takes a long-heavy drag are you able to see more of his face. It’s not as clear of view as it had been inside the pub, but it’s more than you’ve seen in weeks. Dangerous intrigue.

“Not much to look at most of the time” he exhales heavily, smoke carrying from his lips, it’s involuntary the way you watch the plush of his lips move.

It’s involuntary the way your feet seem to carry you closer to him, just a step at a time, shuffling along like you’re afraid he’ll startle like a stray cat and scurry off.

“Maybe you’re not looking hard enough” his eyes drift to you, rake up your body as you near closer, they’re lazier then before - perhaps he’d had more to drink then the last time you’d seen him.

His lips tip up at one side. “Oh yeah? Might look old but my eyes aren’t shot just yet, sweetheart” his eyes never leave yours when he takes another heavy drag of his cigarette, exhaling through his nostrils and out of his mouth in your direction.

You can’t seem to break away from his eyes, they’re even prettier up close, camouflaging the worn scars and the signs of age that eat their way at his features.

“Not as old as you look then? Pity, I like a man that knows his way around” he’d offered his cigarette to you, and you’d taken it gladly, heaving a lungful of bitter smoke from your chest as you watch his eyes narrow at your words.

“Cheeky thing” his chest rumbles, smoke and gravel in his tone.

You smile. “Think so?” Your tone carries the question and you can read the way his mind must be weighing up his options, seems his mind is made up more then quickly.

He tastes of whiskey and nicotine; perhaps the nicotine is partly you too.

His palms are rough but his lips are anything but, it’s a marrying contrast that’s more than welcome, you’re probably just too desperate to care at this point.

He’d tugged you to his car, perhaps with full intentions of driving to your place or his, yet your mind is mush - too needy.

You’re not one to make a habit of this. Never out seeking an arrangement like this, but he’d fell into your lap, too intriguing to pass up. Dangerous intrigue.

It’s an uncomfortable fit, the backseat of his truck is only so big, still too desperate to care that your thighs are already aching and that he’s having to contort his spine to an awkward angle just for the both of you to fit.

You’re straddling his lap, nails biting into the jacket covering his shoulders, grinding yourself down on anything - needy needy needy.

Never ending.

He smirks, let’s his hand trail up over your stomach and chest before he’s wrapping his fingers around your throat, a light grip that warns you to still - makes you look him in the eye. A panting desperate mess already; for a man you don’t know in a town you’re yet to call home.

Never ending.

You swallow against his palm, jaw slack as you meet his eyes, watching the way his eyes map out your face. He leans in and uses his leverage on your throat to bring you the rest of the way towards him, rough hands and gentle kisses. A dream.

His tongue isn’t shy. He delves into your mouth, a filthy kiss that makes your toes curl in your shoes, spine nothing but liquid at that point. When he breaks away, you’re a heaving mess, desperate unsteady breaths that dart from your chest.

He strokes this thumb over your neck. “Do you want me to fuck you?” His words are sharp, stabbing you right in the gut, feeding that heat that boils and swirls in your core.

Your response is wordless. Your eyes lull in your head when your body shivers at his words, “fucking hell” you whisper- more to yourself.

He squeezes your neck. “Need words, sweetheart” he’s serious.

You crane you neck, meeting his eye again, “please fuck me” your smile is drunker then he is, you’d been on the soft drinks tonight, not even an ounce of liquid courage is coursing through your veins to help you along here.

His grip on your neck tightens, just slightly, and you lean in to kiss him again - sucking his tongue into your mouth. You lean closer, closing your chest to his, hands gripping his shoulders, you bring your lips to his ear and whisper-

“Maybe you can cum in me too? I’m on the pill baby”

He grumbles in his chest again, like something carnal slips out of place within himself, finally letting go.

His teeth bruise your lip, kissing with a fever that’s reached boiling point, tipping over the edge of the pot.

He fumbles at his zips and his belt, leading you to do the same. A rush of grabbing hands and harsh shoves, needing to strip away the layers, shoving everything out of the way.

Any teasing or foreplay is thrown out; too wound up, needing this too much.

Needy needy needy

You spit in your palm, he groans at the visual, watching intently as you pull him free of his briefs, slicking his cock with your own spit as you take the length of him in your hand. He returns all favours, sucks two fingers into his mouth and presses them against your underwear, pushing them aside with big deft fingers as he pushes them through your folds. So wet already, perverted maybe, had been wet for him since that first night you saw him.

Would have never admitted it, would hate to have to admit that just a passing look from this stranger had you crossing your legs under the table - trying to quell the ache between your thighs.

“Oh fuck” your teeth worry your bottom lip, digging in hard. He watches, takes note of the way your eyelids flutter when he plunges his fingers through your wetness, he takes note of it all.

He raises his hand, loops it around the back of your neck and pulls you closer, kissing you again as you rile each other up, slick noises of each others spit against each others skin.

Bliss

He chuckles against your mouth and you lean back to tilt your head at him, a bemused look etching your features.

“Never even asked your name, sweetheart”

Didn’t suppose it mattered?

You smile to yourself. “Not sure you need to know” you run your thumb over his slit as you speak and he visibly shivers, his unoccupied hand leaving marks on your thigh from how tight he grips it.

“I gotta work for it?” He asks, a flash of teeth when you meet his eyes again.

“Always” you lean forward to kiss him again and he obliges.

He wraps his arm around your back and tugs you closer, chests flush and breaths twined. With one slight push of his hips upwards the head of his cock teases through your folds, the sensation makes you gasp. “Fuck” you pant.

You reach between the two of you, guiding his cock between your folds and pressing yourself down, feeling as he stretches you open impossibly wide.

It’s a stinging sensation that borders the pain and the pleasure, it’s uncertain which one outweighs the other.

He’s patient. Doesn’t move until you do, watches again as your face plays out the bliss zipping it’s way up your spine like electricity.

You mould your mouth to his, press your palms against the headrest of the seat behind him, watching as the windows fog around you.

The visual is too much, but the feeling of the way his cock pistons in and out of you is worlds apart. He’s stretching you open, spearing you on his cock until tears prickle your eyes. It’s too much, yet you keep going, needing to feel this twang of pain as he fucks you.

“So pretty” he mumbles, pussy-drunk, words slurring out the side of his mouth as he watches where the two of you join. Watching the creamy white of your pussy oozing around him, so wet and sloppy and perfect. His praises punch out of him with almost every thrust, telling you how pretty and perfect and just how fucking good you feel.

You toss your head back, squealing when he fits his teeth against your jugular, grunting - he’s close.

He chases it. Slips his arm away from where he’d held you close, now he fits his hand between the two of you, thumbing your clit until he can feel the way your thighs tremor around his.

“Come for me pretty thing, come on now” his voice softens, and it doesn’t sound at all like him, it’s as gentle as the way his tongue soothes the marks his teeth have left on you.

Sweat slicks your skin and you feel it bead at your forehead, messing your hair, you fit your fingers into the hair at the back of his head - the strands are barely long enough to tug.

You bite your tongue, you’re so close. “You wanna come in me? Hmm?” Your tone drifts and you can barely look him in the face, too focused on the way he throbs inside of you and the way he thumbs at your clit like it’s his one and only purpose on this earth.

“Fuck” he rasps, eyes screwing shut, “you want that?” His question seems genuine, despite the way it’s masked with the way he almost whines it.

“Yes baby” you hum, “need it” you don’t even sound like yourself. Not at this point.

“Fuck” he fucks up into you, more grit to the way he moves and it’s all it takes before you’re both chasing one another.

It rocks through you first, a tight coil in your thighs that makes them burn like hot rubber, seizing through your core until you’re plucked from the edge and drowned in a wave of bliss that seems to go on and on and on.

It’s the way your cunt squeezes around him that forces him to cum, he can’t hold it back, can’t deny himself of spilling inside of your pretty pussy. Much like you, it seems to go on and on and on.

He grunts, heavy in his chest, you’re both a mess of pants and moans and whines as you cum. Drifting down slowly as the sweat drips and the mugginess inside of his truck grows heavy in the air.

You sag into him, chest to chest as you pant against his mouth, fingers gripping at his jacket like he’s a lifeline.

“Jesus Christ” is the first thing out of your mouth.

He hums. “And all this time I thought it was the stars you were looking for back there”

You smile and flick his cheek, settling when he shuffles himself lower in the seat, bringing you with him in a much more comfortable position.

“Not funny” you mutter and he simply hums back.

It’s a brief silence that settles with the afterglow, the come down of a good fuck.

You tell him your name.

It’s a bluntly said piece of information that you watch him digest.

He nods.

“My name’s Simon”

#call of duty ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #rustywrites #simon ghost x you #ghost x afab reader #simon ghost riley x afab reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader

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wendichester · 3 days ago

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♡‧₊˚ ⋅⋆ all the quiet places you left behind,

summary. castiel visits you in heaven.

pairing. castiel x reader genre. fluffy fluff

wordcount. 648

Heaven looks like the last place you ever felt safe.

Not the actual house, or the actual day — but the feeling. It stretches around you like golden thread, each moment stitched together by memory. A porch swing creaks in the distance. The sky is soft and always blushing. The wind carries the scent of something familiar, though you can’t quite place it — like childhood summers and coffee at dawn and someone who once loved you deeply.

And today… today, the air hums different.

You feel him before you see him.

“Cas?” you call, already turning.

He’s standing just beyond the garden gate, the same beige trench coat you always teased him about flaring slightly in the breeze. His eyes — ancient and endlessly blue — drink you in like he’s been dying of thirst.

You laugh, breath catching in your throat. “You came.”

“I had to,” he says simply, voice wrapped in reverence. “I needed to see you.”

He steps into your Heaven like he belongs there. And maybe he does.

You walk toward him, barefoot in the grass. Every step you take, the world around you shifts — your favorite trees in bloom, the wind chimes you loved so much tinkling from a porch you haven’t stood on in years. He notices. Of course he does.

“This is what you made for yourself?” he asks softly.

You shrug, shy. “It just sort of… happened. It built itself around what I missed.”

Cas smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re everywhere here.”

He’s right. Your touch lingers on every leaf, every light ray, every warm detail. Even the shadows feel gentle.

“Is that bad?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “No. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

There’s something in his voice that makes your heart tighten.

You study him for a moment, then tug him gently toward the porch swing. He follows without protest. You sit side by side, the old wood groaning sweetly under your combined weight.

“I wasn’t sure if angels could come up here,” you say after a beat. “I thought you were sort of… grounded.”

Cas glances at you, then back at the horizon, his profile painted gold. “I’m not supposed to. But I asked. And Jack… he said yes.”

Your throat stings unexpectedly. “Why now?”

He hesitates.

Then: “Because I missed you. And I was afraid I was starting to forget the way your voice sounded when you were happy.”

You blink fast.

Silence blooms between you, full and unhurried. The sky melts pink behind the hills. Somewhere, wind stirs a windmill you once watched as a child. Time doesn’t tick here — it sighs.

“I thought it would help,” he admits after a while. “Seeing you. Letting go.”

“And does it?”

He turns to you, his expression soft and wrecked all at once. “No.”

Your breath catches.

“I didn’t expect you to be here like this,” he says. “So… alive. So real. You made Heaven a place I don’t want to leave.”

You smile, eyes shimmering. “Maybe that’s what love is.”

Cas looks down at his hands, suddenly unsure. “I shouldn’t stay.”

“Why not?”

“Because the longer I do, the harder it will be to go.”

Your fingers brush his. He doesn’t pull away.

“Then don’t go.”

His breath shakes. “I have duties. People to guide. Pain I haven’t healed yet.”

You nod, understanding. You always understand. That’s part of why it hurts.

“Okay,” you whisper.

He turns to you again, heart in his throat. “I’ll come back.”

“You better,” you smile, brushing your thumb against his knuckles. “You’re my favorite part of this place.”

Cas closes his eyes like that’s something sacred. He leans in — not urgent, not desperate, just sure — and presses his forehead to yours.

No wings. No lightning. No miracles. Just warmth. Just him.

“Even in Heaven,” he murmurs, “you feel like home.”

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

#castiel #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel fluff #castiel novak #castiel spn #supernatural #.docx

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strawbairicake · 2 days ago

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the kitten incident- dr. ratio x reader

synopsis: the four times you tried convincing Veritas to get a kitten, and the one time he gifted you… an “unexpected” surprise.

warnings: ummm pacing, my kinda bad (read: beginner/novice) writing, pls be nice to me. bad (/non existent) characterization of Ratio! other than that, none! this is disgustingly fluffy haha!

word count: ~1.3k (idk dude i stopped counting after 1010 words)

tagging: @sqgeism, @vyyper, @your-sleeparalysisdem0n (since you eat up all of my writing), @fairycourts (would like to know what you think of this!), @m1ckeyb3rry, @sheyfu, and @cmiru!

author’s note: my first attempt at writing a full-length fic! don’t expect this to happen much from me, haha (unless requested ofc!)! this is a birthday gift to myself, so this is very self-indulgent! for reference, you have a best friend in this story named Ares! she’s amazing and based off of my real life bestie! hope you enjoy; worked very hard on this! <3

a… very convincing car ride home.

after a date at a cat café, Veritas was regretting taking you out anywhere. you would not stop talking about getting a kitten. his internal monologue was filled with thoughts about you shutting up. he wouldn’t voice hurtful thoughts to you, of course, but if you could shut up, that’d be great.

“Veritas?”

“yes, (name)?”

“can we please get a kitten?”

Veritas glanced at you before returning his eyes to the road.

“I’ll consider it if you keep your mouth shut the rest of the drive home.”

you were as quiet as a mouse for the rest of the drive, much to Veritas’s enjoyment. you both made your way to your shared apartment. Veritas led you both into the apartment, where he was slightly surprised to see how quiet you still were. that lasted five minutes- oh, off you went rambling about getting a kitten again. ah well, surely this is a phase that will pass? it’s like when children beg their parents to get a pet and they won’t drop the topic until they get what they wanted. surely this won’t be the same situation with you, right?

oh well, only one way to find out.

a quiet chat over dinner.

after arriving home after the initial conversation, you and Veritas decided to prepare a light snack to go along with dinner. your routine with Veritas when it came to meals was simple: you prepare any snacks you both wanted, and he would prepare dinner. you set a bowl of fruits and other snacks on the table while your partner finishes preparing the meal before joining you at the table. for once, he initiates the conversation.

“are you still thinking about a kitten?”

“yeah, why do you ask?”

Veritas sighed and you smiled- there was just no winning when it comes to him, is there?

“hypothetically speaking, if we were to be adopting a kitten- don’t get your hopes up- what breed are you most looking into?”

your eyebrows raised. what a hypothetical. but answering honestly seems to be the only way to answer.

“probably a calico or a tortoiseshell. my childhood friend had the latter and she was very sweet. plus i have experience with cats, so it’s not like i’m picking a breed i couldn’t handle.”

Veritas hummed, slightly amused with your statement. he made a mental note for when he goes to the animal shelter next weekend while you’re away.

”bothering” him while he works in your home office.

to say you bothered your lover is an overstatement… probably! Dr. Ratio shows his love to you in his own ways. they may not be the most conventional of ways, but they are ways! you put in love in the relationship, too, more upfront in a way, with him. you’re both happy, healthy, and for the most part- content, with how things are. until the damn kitten talk comes up again, and that makes your partner want to rip his hair out (lovingly). it’s not that he dislikes animals, he seems to be very neutral towards them, while you’re definitely the animal magnet between the two of you. Dr. Ratio loves you, he really does! but if he hears about this damn kitten one more time, he might combust, mentally… maybe! you can’t help it if you want something, you just HAVE to tell everyone everything about said thing! it’s human nature, or something!

so here you are, sitting in your lover’s office in your reading nook while he quietly works on grading his students’ essays or whatever- you stopped listening a while ago, unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it) for him. you were reading a book, he was working, and all seemed well with the world. at least, he thought so. he heard you shuffle your way out of your nook over to his desk. you just stood next to him and watched as he wrote (surprisingly nice handwriting for a “doctor”) some comments on a student’s essay. he could tell you were waiting for when he wouldn’t be as busy, and he was glad you had that courtesy, if nothing else. so when he input the student’s grade and set the paper essay to the side, he sighed and looked up at you.

“if it’s about a kitten, could the conversation wait until after we bathe?”

and the shine in your eyes told him everything he needed to know.

overhearing you on a call with your friend (and the aftermath).

your best friend, Ares, has risen from the dead, hooray! but in all seriousness, she had been so busy with her job that she hadn’t gotten in touch with you in what felt like FOREVER. you’re listening to Ares talk about her job, books, and a whole bunch of other things. and then the call goes pretty quiet on your side, just long enough to be noticed by your friend.

“oh yeah,” she pipes up after a few minutes of silence on your end, “how’s the cat debacle going? has he come around?”

“he told me he’s thinking about it, but it was kind weird the other day! he asked a hypothetical question that did not sound like a hypothetical at all.”

“well, what’d he say?”

“he said, and I quote, ahem, ‘hypothetically speaking, if we were to be adopting a kitten- don’t get your hopes up- what breed are you most looking into?’ i don’t know, Jade, it just seemed… off. like i should be expecting something, and i’m not, if that makes sense.” you answered.

“girl, how the hell did you remember what he said verbatim? anyway! that totally makes sense! maybe he’s planning a surprise for you and can barely keep the secret together.” she smiled at you through the screen.

you replied a quick “yeah, maybe” before realizing Veritas was just outside the door to your shared bedroom, overhearing your conversation. he waits for your conversation to end before coming in the room. but before he enters, he quickly shoots a message to Ares herself: “do they know?” and he gets almost excited when Ares texts back almost immediately, “no, but i almost accidentally spilled what’s going on. you NEED to tell them soon! good luck!”

that was suddenly all of the confirmation the astute doctor needed.

the kitten incident (a good one, i promise!)!

Veritas greeted you in your shared home, which was odd. he always came home after you, so it was mildly strange he was waiting for you. but you paid this slight change no mind- maybe he just wanted to spend time with you and got his things done early. he greeted you from the kitchen. you made your way over to him.

“hi, love. how was your day?”

“oh my god! today was sooo long!” you reply as you cling to his waist. Veritas hums and puts a hand on one of your forearms and rubs little circles into the flesh. he finishes preparing a light snack for himself since you already ate dinner with some friends an hour ago. you moved away from him as he took your hand, which got your attention.

“come see, i have a surprise for you.”

“oh god, what did i do?”

Veritas lets out a light chuckle.

“i can’t spoil my significant other without them thinking they did something wrong? i’m hurt, (name).”

you laughed as he set his snack down on the counter and led you to the living room where a small box was sitting on the coffee table.

“here, open it.” he handed the box to you carefully. you looked at him skeptically before sitting on the sofa and opening the box. inside the box was a tiny calico kitten, the one you had been talking about visiting for at least two weeks now. she was so tiny, most likely the runt of her litter, and you kept telling Veritas how much you liked her. you were devastated when you found out she was adopted. you gently picked the sleeping kitten up from the box, and she opened her eyes, and then proceeded to let out the tiniest and most polite meow you’ve ever heard. you looked to Veritas and then the kitten back and forth about five times as he laughed and nudged your shoulder.

“look at her collar.”

you looked at the tag on her collar and your breath hitched. marry me, the tag read. as you turn to face your lover, you find him sitting next to you with a ring box in hand, proposing to you out of the blue, with the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

#airi writes #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio x reader

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pompillar · 16 hours ago

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Surprise I didn't need anyone to ask for it I love pegging and sharing my opinions! So here's wonderwall the ghouls individually with pegging!

(Minors dni plz y'all, respect the boundaries) This can be read as x reader or MC bc I love our girl and she deserves to enjoy herself too

Frostheim

❄️ Jin ❄️

Disaster man. Good fucking luck pal, and by that I mean getting into his room. Have fun arguing with him before he finally gives up and asks you what the fuck you want... wait what??

He's definitely a bit skeptical. It sounds like a lot of work for something he's not actually interested in... but! If you mention that after the set up he doesn't have to do anything and you'll take the lead he might be more inclined.

Man's a bit shaken by how easily you take charge. Dragging him back to his bed and pushing him down. He's been pushed around by a few ladies before who wanted him. He hated it. But... something about the way you're doing it has him feeling something a little different. If you rip the buttons off his shirt when removing it he's going to be flustered, too flustered to even tell you you better replace that.

Jump his fucking bones. Once you finally slip into his well prepped hole he's trying to cover his mouth and keep from making any noise because he wasn't expecting it to feel that good... I think he's very unaware how powerful the prostate is and I wanna see this man get knocked off his pedestal and humbled.

Blushing down to his chest (that pale complexion makes it so easy to see how much he's affected by what you're doing) Also whines so loud when you call him pretty or praise him. If you know how to work your hips you might be able to make him cum hands free. He would be so embarrassed if he did. And you'd have to tell him it's okay, it's hot, it's cute.

Wait you called him cute? *blushing again* He miiiiight hit you up for this another time when he feels like doing the prep again... Let's be real. He's definitely hitting you up again.

♟️ Tohma ♟️

Augh this guy, what's his fucking angle? Not the time for me to mention how irritating I find him on a personal level. You have to track him down before you can ask him anything. That's going to be half the battle at this point. Just text him to meet up in the vault for tea don't waste your time.

What did you need from him? Oh? You wanna peg him? You'll need to tell him way ahead of time. He's a busy man with a very full schedule and a house full of ghouls that should all be on leashes for different reasons.

The definition of topping from the bottom. I'm pretty sure if he's not in control he'll combust. Handles all the prep ahead of time, still taking your clothes off like he's planning to be the one inside you. Does a little strip tease for you when you call him on it. He's sorry, maybe his tantalizing skin will be enough for you to forgive him?

He has one request of you, use one of the toys that has an insertable piece on your end too. He says it's more fun that way but he will 100% activate his stigma when you least expect it to make that thing vibrate like it's a racecar. Snarky bastard just smirks at you when you realize what's happening. Hopefully you can focus on pounding into his tight ass while that thing is buzzing like crazy.

He's also not very loud but he definitely gives you directions, harder, faster, a little more to the left. Very bossy, very smarmy, very rewarding when you finally get him to the breaking point and he has a hard time getting his words together. Oh once he cums he's trying to pull himself together as quickly as possible but you catch the little slip ups in his speech. Bitch you can't hide yourself forever in there, come out of the mental box you're in by choice.

If he's been thoroughly fucked he won't even have the energy to go have a smoke. Let him rest for a while before he has to go back to being the jack of all trades around Frostheim. You will definitely be doing this again if he has any say in it (he has all the say)

⚔️ Lucas ⚔️

This boy... I wasn't expecting to enjoy his so much but he's a sleeper hit.

Luca is a true gentleman, as soon as he hears you have a question for him he's setting aside time just for you. He is nervous as all hell when you mention it, like okay he knows what it is it's not uncommon in England. Has he ever done it? No! I mean not that he's opposed its just not... something he's ever thought of having done to him.

You'd have to guide him with prep and hold his hand through what you'll be doing to him. Even if he thinks it's embarrassing I think he would want you close for every step. He needs someone to be steady as he loses his sense of control.

It's your room hands down, he wouldn't be comfortable at his dorm. Also Kaito would lose his shit if he saw you going into Luca's room at night. Speaking of Luca looks so cute and proper sitting on your bed. Definitely undressing himself to help you. He's not buff but he's muscular for sure. His body is so pretty and you can't help but touch and praise him for it. You know he worked hard for it.

Open him up on your fingers and he will be a whimpering mess. Gripping the sheets and trying to bite his lips to shut himself up. You have to remind him that your dorm is pretty far from prying ears. He won't listen to that, he's too focused on your fingers. Once you slide home inside him though oh my god he's gone. You are hearing the most porn star moans you've ever heard a man make. Rail him. He's such a good pliant boy, you're almost convinced he has hearts in his eyes.

He'll come hard as fuck the first time, head tossed back and gasping for air. Hold him down as he twitches and whines from overstimulation. With how out of it he is it's admirable that he still wants to try and give you your happy ending too. What a sweetheart.

Tells you next time he'll be better prepared and build up a tolerance so he won't cum so fast. Wait, next time? He turns red when you mention it. You'll have to poke and prod him until he tells you he really really liked it. ❤️ Please have him again ma'am.

🏹 Kaito 🏹

You already know this man is down bad. Take him back to your dorm because his ass is not gonna do anything inside that ice castle. Too many chances for embarrassment. Instant over the top reaction, red to the tips of his ears down to his neck. Boy is so chronically online that he genuinely thought most people treated pegging as a joke. Not a chance blondie, get your ass over here.

Sooooo embarrassed he wants to die, refuses help for prepping because he doesn't want you to see that. As if you aren't gonna fuck him stupid anyway. Let him know you're still open to helping if he needs it *wink* Okay don't kill him before you get him to bend over for you!

Very self conscious about his body as he undresses. He's thin, he's not very tall, he's got freckles and let's be honest probably stress acne. Boy is shaking before you even touch him.

Please reassure his nervous ass, he might hyperventilate just seeing your strap. Use a smaller one since he's not gonna be able to handle it the first time. You need to move slow and steady with him. Rub his shoulders and give him kisses and hickies. He needs to know this isn't some weird thing and that you want him because he's Kaito not because he's agreeing to be fucked by you.

As soon as you're in he's sobbing like a baby, not because it hurts, no you made sure it didn't. You fingered him really good. He's just overwhelmed by the intimacy of it. Kaito starts begging you to move, he can't handle the intensity of you sitting still. And he needs you to start fucking him before he goes crazy.

He is sooooooo loud! Like he can't hold back any noise whatsoever. His voice goes so high pitched and whiny. It's so fucking cute. Will pass out after he cums, his vision probably whited out and everything. Take care of him will you?

Just wait a while, he'll come to you like a nervous little bunny asking for it again. You can probably also get him to dress up for you. Kaito is putty in your hands.

Vagastrom

🥊 Alan 🥊

Alaaaaan, ugh, he's so good. You don't have to worry about him being turned off by it. He's open to anything for you. Though he's defintely a little embarrassed by the whole prep deal. He wouldn't tell you he's nervous or anything though. Just grin and bear it. Which is a bad habit of his. You'll need to break that later.

He does come to you with one issue though, he's not small like the other ghouls, he's not pretty like Leo or lean like Sho. Man is worried he isn't the type of guy this activity is made for... oh please prove him wrong.

Your place again, his place has a snooping threat. That's the last thing either of you need. This maaaaan, even kissing he's super careful. Get his gorgeous body out of those clothes and run your hands all over it. He won't let you finger him though... shame, it would have been fun.

Probably won't be able to get him to ride you because he doesn't wanna crush you. But you can absolutely put him in a mating press. Holy fuck this guy is shook. It feels like this? Does it feel like this for you? Does he make you feel this good? He's fighting the raging thoughts running through his pleasure addled brain. So you'll just have to wreck him to turn those pesky thoughts off.

Compliment him the whole time, he's pretty, he's cute, he looks so fucking hot like this. His little choked off moans are adorable. Once he's been fucked to the point he stops trying to control himself you're being treated to the hottest deep throaty noises. (not like a bj guys quit giggling) Make him cry out and beg for more. He's still going to avoid grabbing you despite how much he needs something to hold as he reaches his peak.

Out of it but still wants to make you feel good. His fingers, his tongue, his cock, whatever you want to use to get off. He's all yours. Those words alone might be enough to get you there.

He's going to come to you again when he's gotten too stressed and pent up. Not the usual type he has but super over the boiling point. He needs you to man handle him and make him feel like he's not untouchable or unloveable. Expect this man to be ultra whipped for your strap.

🏍️ Sho 🏍️

Ngggh, this guy is a wild one. Not gonna lie I do love me a biker boy. And a guy who can cook. So anyway! Catch him after the food truck is closed. He'll look amused before you even ask the question, what's he so smug for? Bitch.

Pegging? Alright he's down. Yes it's that easy. Not his first rodeo either. He will tease you and dirty talk your ear off about it though. Senpai~ you want to see him get all cock drunk riding a big strap? Naughty~ Never would have expected you to be so perverted.

You already know he's either coming to yours or getting an R&R permit to take you out to a nice hotel. Somewhere Leo can't follow you and listen in on everything. And you know he would. He'd probably sit outside your window jacking off to it. The creep.

Once you get to the hotel and shower he's back to his usual flirting and teasing. Oh? What are you staring at his chest so hard for? You're surprisingly dirty. Trying to take his towel away with your mind? You just had to ask stupid. *chuckle*

Shut him up with your tongue while you get him stretched, and maybe give his cute ass a few playful swats. He has a very nice ass. It's a shame he rarely shows it off to be honest. If you tug on his hair he'll warn you not to be too rough, can't damage his pretty mane. But give it a nice gentle pull close to his scalp and he'll moan like a slut.

He is absolutely getting on top. Sorry but he likes to ride. He might let you fuck him in other positions but cowboy is definitely his favorite. He's the rider for a reason. And god does he do it well. Rolling his hips like he's on a mechanical bull. His cock bouncing as he whines and moans whenever the strap hits his prostate. Oh but he looks anything but desperate for it, it's slow and sensual until he gets closer.

This show is almost enough to get you off without being touched. It's erotic as hell and you wonder if you should be paying for this. But once he's finished he's eating you out. No ifs ands or buts, you are getting yours too.

He's probably one of the top 5 who come back and ask for you to do it again. Slides you your food and a napkin that says what time and how big of a strap to bring. Winks at you as you walk away.

📱 Leo 📱

Bitch, he's such a bitch, creepy little snoop. What a dick. I just want to see him break and have to live with the fact that an NPC can make him a fucking mess. Tracking him down's not hard. It's the isolating him to ask about it.

You're getting laughed at first and foremost, what makes you think he'd let you anywhere near his ass with a strap on when he doesn't know how well you can use it? He's actually super turned on just thinking about it though. That doesn't mean he won't give you hell over it. He knows he's beautiful and it's hard to resist him but you really are forward. But grab him by the tie and you're shutting him up instantly.

Takes foreverrrrr to prep himself. He's such a diva. Usually set up doesn't take ten hours Leo! Once you have him back with you it's game on. He's all talk and it shows, a single finger is enough for him to start whimpering. Loud, loud loud loud! King whiner. No other ghoul can outwhine him. And it sounds so good.

Make him take it face down ass up, he's going to scream if you use a really big one. (even his screams sound good fuck this guy) But trust, he's not letting you use a small one. He is begging you to fuck him like you mean it with that thick strap. The size queen demands it fast and hard and really big.

You better praise him, he's not doing this for himself! (liar) Oh the second you start calling him pretty or good boy he's grinding back and mewling like a bitch. At this point you might need to muzzle him. He 100% screams when he cums. If you edge him he's gonna call you a whore, I'm sorry, he's not.

Even if he's an asshole you should still clean him up and give him water afterwards. He's already trying to go back to being bitchy. Typical Leo.

You'll be getting a few passive aggressive texts insinuating that you clearly want to do this again. Bonus: if you set up a camera and show the footage to him later he'll actually be speechless and fully hard in under a minute.

Jabberwock

🐰 Haru 🐰

I wanna love him so bad but I have trust issues with characters that have those always closed eyes... Another good luck situation, have fun getting him alone, no Peekaboo, and when he's not busy. On the bright side he's all ears about what you wanted to ask him.

This man? You wanna peg this bean sprout? The one obssessed with ass and overworking himself and ass? Huh. I mean he won't deny he's intrigued. He does love a good ass and he has a pretty decent one if he says so himself. And he does. Anyway! He'll do the hard part of prep first. And find someone to watch the animals properly (Towa... Ren... *i'm watching you gesture*)

Take him back to your dorm to avoid scarring anyone, or sowing jealously into the other Jabberwock boys. (It's okay guys your turn is next!)

As soon as you get him in bed he's doing everything he can to please you. And that's not where this is going sir, sorry. You will have to force him onto his back and tell him that you're in charge tonight and that he needs to just lay back, relax, and enjoy.

Squirms so much because he can't be still. Put his acrobat body to good use and fold him in half, his legs quite literally go up to his ears. It's impressive to be honest. You can also tease him with his own prosthetic arm, he'll be getting overheated and that usually stays fairly cool. Make him jack himself off while you fuck him like a rabbit. The temperature difference will leave him dizzy.

Oh he's also loud, he can't help it. You're treating him so good, making his head go blank, calling him nice things and rearranging his guts. He might be in love after seeing the reverent face you're making at him. Twitches a lot when he cums, and it's a lot too. Probably nails himself in the chin with it.

Clean him up and put him under the covers. He's yours. Expect to wake up being the big spoon, dressed in yours pjs and him in his, him holding Peekaboo. (Bastard went back late last night because he couldn't handle one night without his round boy) This will probably be a lot of your mornings after this kind of night with him. Just know he's going to be your cute little service top/service bottom/service anything you want from now on. Call him any time!

🌻 Towa 🌻

Fairy prince ass, goat eyed brat. What a demonic little angel. He's so difficult to write well. Hopefully this is good for the Towa girlies.

This is a tough one to be honest. Clearly you have to talk to him about it at night or somewhere dark. Because humming and grumbling aren't going to cut it for this discussion. Once you explain it's something you want to do to show him how much you love him he's sold.

Make sure you explain things have to be done first before you get into this. Otherwise he's going to try and do it right now. Pouts but listens to you. He's also down to do it anywhere. Literally anywhere. Does not care what animal gets an eyeful. You decide it's best to take him to your dorm.

He does need help getting himself prepped, or so he says. You think it's just an excuse to watch your concentrated face as you finger him while he whines and bucks his hips against your hand. Also kissing you every five seconds. It's hard to avoid getting into a liplock with this guy. He's also very give and take so expect to get fingered yourself as he's being stretched.

You will be facing each other. He won't have it any other way. He needs eye contact and easy access to kiss you. Play with his dick while you fuck him nice and slow and he'll make pretty little melodic noises. Likes to trap you against him by locking his legs behind you.

Playing with you the whole time, groping your ass to bring you closer? Yup. Massaging your tits and rolling your nipples? Absolutely. If you get close enough it's quite literally an 'awful brave for someone within kissing distance' situation.

He will try to make you cum with him. Whatever it takes. If you don't he's going to handle you instantly after he cums. Pouts during clean up because you aren't cuddling yet. Cuddles are inevitable, goodbye to anything you planned to do later.

Dandelion play with him again soon! Teach him more things he can do to show you his love! ❤️

🎮 Ren 🎮

Ah, angry tsundere, classic flavor, love it every time. You're getting an earful. All of which is just Ren spitting venom because he's scared. He hates intimacy as is and you want to what?! You want to put a fake dick in his ass. Does he look like a little twitch streamer femboy with an onlyfans?! Not gonna happen!

You have to build some trust before going into this. He's emotionally compromised. Man has had some shit happen to him to become such a reclusive jumpy little wet cat of a man. After some gentle convincing and persuation you find out he's actually been researching it himself. He may or may not have already prepped... shut up he's not cute for being smart about it! He isn't blushing!

Once you herd this porcupine into bed he's way more nervous. He seems like he'll sprint away the second he gets spooked. But he's being good for you, don't tease him or he might actually run. Kiss him and give him lots of praise. He'll be red in the face the entire time.

His body is cute, lanky but actually pretty well maintained. Will tell you to stop staring and get on with it. Okay spiky relax, and breathe out while you push into his stretched hole.

Oh he's biting his lip raw trying to stay quiet as you fuck him. It wasn't supposed to be this good. You keep dragging your strap over that spot that makes him see stars. His eyes are watering and he tries to avoid eye contact.

He's crying once you speed up and give it to him harder. But you know it's not pain. No he's just getting the fucking of a lifetime. Whiny whiny whimpering whiner. If he's still able to speak it's insults. Just answer them with praise and he'll shut up quick. He gets really loud the closer to his orgasm he gets, full on ahegao face. Of course he would have one. Fucking nerd.

Aftercare is a movie and cuddling in his bed. He's still blushing hours later unable to believe he just let you do that. That being said... when are you free next? No he just wants to show you a new movie series! Quit grinning you perv!

Sinostra

🎲 Taiga 🎲

Not gonna lie this bastard is who I downloaded the game for... his appearance is so my type. It's unfortunate that his personality repelled me like bug spray. But I still find him a neat little weirdo.

First off, I commend you for your bravery. This jackass depends entirely on mood. I say this with all the love in my heart but he's the cats on my cat from hell that couldn't be helped in human form... humanish... anywho!

He's impressed you have the guts to ask him this. Sure! Could be fun if you're any good at it. If you aren't... well he's probably going to shoot you. So make it worth his while kitty cat!

You have no idea if he even understands how to do prep work. Not one of the questions he answered. Hopefully he does his due diligence. He will act like it was such a pain though. So you really have to perform to a high degree here. He's already a little annoyed by the fuss of it and you have a brain to keep from being splattered on the wall.

You don't have to do much, he's already naked and lazily jacking off when you arrive. Grumbles that it took you long enough and to hurry up and get over here. It's like less than three minutes before you sink your strap into him and he groans in relief.

Do him rough, up against the wall, face down on his bed, hell you could fuck him on the probably expensive fur rug on the floor, he'll be for it. If you manage to do something he doesn't like he'll let you know. Immediately.

Will push you into the torture chair and ride you while cackling. If he's feeling generous he might have a dildo you could ride while he rides you. You will be bitten. Position be damned you will be bitten so fucking much. You'll look like a school of cookie cutter sharks attacked you.

His eyes roll back when he cums, and boy is it a hell of a peak. Still giggling like he's drunk off pleasure as he comes down. You aren't getting away from being his pillow after giving him a good time. Just be prepared to explain who you are in the morning. Probably wanna put your name in his phone as kitty cat so he knows who to text when he wants to have fun again.

🪞 Romeo 🪞

Oh mister high and mighty of noble birthings. I flipflop between wanting this man to choke and wanting to choke him personally. So how does he take the question? About as well as he takes anything with his insanely high blood pressure. Who do you think you are you BB?! You aren't anywhere near important enough to handle him like that! This will launch into his usual acronym infused tirade so take a seat and wait it out. He'll get tired eventually.

That being said I have a feeling he's used to prep work and keeps himself clean frequently. I mean he's got to be ready for anything and that means whatever he gets up to with Hyde. Oh and don't bother bringing anything, after you mentioned it he got a custom leather harness made for you. He has designer dildos, toys and lube already. Take your pick and see if he approves.

If you have the guts to ask he might even wear some pretty high end lingerie. Wine colored lace looks sooooo good on his skin tone and he knows it. He even puts on a little make up to match it. The picture of perfection and sin sprawled out on his uber expensive sheets when you show up.

You're late, quit wasting his time. If you don't give him a good time he will be pissed. Insults are thrown as per usual so time to show Romeo that Juilet is in charge here. And oh is he down for that. He's a pillow prince. Why should he have to do any of the work? He's already prepped himself and given you the opportunity to fuck him.

He's pretty sensitive though, it doesn't take much to get him going, I mean he was already half hard when you showed up. Flip him on his stomach and you see why, a cute gemstone that matches his eyes is nestled between his cheeks. He is actively taking some of the fun out of it. But the sounds he makes when you slowly pull the plug out are worth it. His well stretched hole is on display and ready for the taking. Yells at you to quit gawking and get on with it! You defintely see his neck is red from embarrassment.

Once you get the, actually super comfy, harness on and pick a toy to use it's game over. Have him on his back so you can see his face, grab his wrists and hold them close to your body. He's already moaning like it's the best thing he's ever had. Work your hips fast and make him beg for more. He's loud but it's actually a very pretty sound now.

If he cums on his expensive lingerie expect complaints. But that's only his cover to hide how blissed out and affected he is. He's a sweaty mess so you're absoluttely setting a bath for him. It better have bubbles too. And wine. Pamper him properly afterwards and he'll be calling you over at night pretty frequently. Bonus: You should ask to fuck him in the cage in his auction hall. The prettiest birds deserve the best cages right?

⚖️ Ritsu ⚖️

Jeez, okay this guy is something else. I have a hard time choosing for him. He's adorkable but his lawyer passion is just beyond me most days. Regardless, he probably doesn't know what you're talking about. Will ask you to give him time to research what you're asking him for. You get several texts later to the effect of '?????? Did you misspeak? Is this spelled differently? Hello?????' It's okay you can laugh now before you see him again. Don't laugh at his flushed face when you do see him. It's going to make him second guess himself.

That being said you should absolutely tease him by asking about how his research went. He informs you while his cheeks are red that he thoroughly checked the term and it's origins etc. Including videos... you should 100% ask to watch the ones he found later on. He agrees but you have to sign this pape- smooch him to avoid signing an NDA. He'll be quiet for a bit and tell you that he does need some time still and will give you a date and time for your after hours leisure time...

On the afformentioned day and time he will show up to your room looking cool as a cucumber despite how nervous he is. He's going into this like he's in charge. Helping you undress and folding his clothes to the side like a cute little house hubby. He's still trying to be the dominant one but his face turns very red again when he sees the toy and harness.

Time to show him who's actually in charge here. Be gentle working him open with your fingers, he's going to burst from embarrassment. (Or use Acimo and make it impossible to do anything further) Unsure what he's meant to do at this point and too embarrassed to ask. You need to tell him to relax and enjoy it.

Once you get your strap in you see the absurd calculations going on behind his wide eyes and red face. Please don't let him start on whatever wild theory he's about to extrapolate. Roll your hips slow and watch his thoughts disappear as he grabs onto your shoulders and gasps like he's been scandalized. He has to lean back and let you do the work because he's feeling too good. This was expected from his research but experiencing it is a totally different thing.

Whimpering so loud when he cums. Another one who is very duty bound and wants to give you an orgasm too. But he's too far out of it. I think he might honestly be in sub space after that. Clean him up and cuddle him close to your chest. (Personally I think he has mommy issues so he needs to be cradled in your bosom)

You'll be hearing from him again, it's going to be the most awkward proposal for sex you've ever heard but it's cute how he's trying to not show how badly he wants it again.

Hotarubi

🪭 Subaru 🪭

Delicious dichotomy man. Oh he's a fun character to pick apart. Concerning but still draws you in. There's so many variables... so many different interpretations... I digress there's so many ways I could write this one. But here we go!

Instantly flustered, covering his mouth and glancing away. Stammering nervously about how improper that would be. Secretly he's thrilled to bits that you've asked him such a thing. If he's getting hard under the tea table there's no outward proof on his perfectly tuned face. If you're to the point where you can see past it just tell him to think on it and you'll be back another day.

You defintely need to ask Zenji and Haku to clear out. Zenji because he could just wander in and Haku... I don't put voyeurism past him. Man's a bit depraved ya know. Anyway once that's taken care of find Subaru waiting in the secluded tea room for you. You've been talking over text about this because it gave Subaru the confidence (cough cough the freedom to openly grin and giggle like a sicko /affectionate cough cough) and agree.

He's waiting in a beautiful white kimono with pastel hydrangea patterns, something gorgeous and innocent looking. What's underneath is anything but, he's only wearing a cock ring that's made to mimic a strand of pearls. As he slowly leans back and unties the kimono to show you his little ensemble his blushing face is cracking a bit. He's too into it already, his mask is crumbling enough to show the curve of a grin on his lips.

Devour him. Absolutely debauch this man, leave hickies all down his neck and collarbones. He'll get to see all the flithy things you want to do with him as soon as he so much as grazes your skin. Gasping and letting out pretty breathy sounds as you work your hand on his equally pretty cock. But that's not what you're here for right now. No it's lower, you'll find he's already slick with lube and stretched quite well. Purr into his ear about how good he is or how dirty he is and he'll whine. He likes praise but also being degraded a bit? Pervert.

Take him against the tatami or the wall, hell bend him over the tea table. Subaru is into it, feeling you rut into him like you've never been this turned on before. Mark him up with your hands, your mouth, dig your nails into his hips and listen to him moan like a whore. He needs the reminders for later when he's alone again. Not that he'll be forgetting this anytime soon but tangible marks are hotter.

Cries out like he's singing when you finally remove the cock ring and let him cum. It's an angelic sound but you know he's not even close. He is definitely in need of a rest after that fucking. Laze about on the tatami with him. He'll try to recover soon and bring you tea and snacks. Keyword try. You'll probably need to be the one to get the refreshments. His hips are sore and he's half hard already from the way his hole aches.

This guy is fiending for it immediately. Obssessed with your strap game. Expect to be seeing a lot of the Subaru behind the mask. He needs you to ruin him more and more. Please mistress?

📿 Haku 📿

Ohohoho I've been waiting to get to him. Pervert. Fucking degenerate. Slut. He's perfect. He's a disaster. Can he keep it in his pants? Do we want him to? He will 100% flip it on you the second you bring it up. Pegging? Oh princess you like a little give and take? Color him intrigued. If you need pointers on the technique he can give you a lesson on the best ways to thrust your hips. Oh but you would be on the receiving end of that. Hopefully that still works to teach you?

Give him a day or two to get himself ready, he's teasing you the whole time though. Texting you about how much work this is for you but he doesn't mind if you promise you'll take good care of him. Might send you a pic of some of his own personal toy collection asking which one you want to use on him. I will not lie some of them are fairly large. And a few of them are less than human... Haku why do you have a knotted dildo... Whore.

Last text and pic you get before you see him is him tugging his uniform shirt to the side to show off a peek of red rope with this, "ready when you are princess" When you get your hands on him, oooooh boy! That tease is in for it. Rip that shirt right off of him and admire the beautiful intricate ropework he managed to tie himself into. Nothing that would restrict him from moving but it's very fashion statement the way it's done.

Kiss him hard, bruise, bite and suck on his bottom lip until he's holding himself back from humping your thigh. Steal his breath away by marking him up around the ropes, tease and bite his nipples. (headcanon that he has them pierced) He moans so much when you tug the bars between your teeth. He's a bit of a masochist.

Another one who's plugged and ready for you. His plug is a bit longer though, one with the tapered spheres. He shivers as you slowly remove the toy and berate him for taking away the joy of working him open yourself. He chuckles and says next time he'll let you have the honor. Oh he isn't ready for how hard you decide to fuck him. Put the first dildo you like the looks of in the harness and go to town on his ass. He's loud, so fucking loud you need to shove your fingers in his mouth to quiet him. Haku sucks on your fingers like it's a cock, laving his tongue all over them. Tease.

You can fuck him however you want. He takes it like a champ and archs his back like a professional whore. When he cums it's not a lot, probably due to the rope that winds around the base of his cock and balls but it's just enough to keep him partially hard. It's multiple rounds for sure. Wreck him.

Aftercare is bringing him out of sub space and untying the rope. There's so many marks from it you're going to be rubbing ointment into his red skin for a while. He's defintely not letting you use it on any hickies or bites you left. He wants those as trophies for surviving the devouring princess. You swat his ass for the remark and watch his body shiver... Oh he's doomed, the look on his face tells you he knows it and you grin.

Regular texts from him asking you to come mess him up. Always ready when you arrive. Maybe you should start calling him princess...

📜 Zenji 📜

King of poetry, feminism and big dick energy. Yes I'm using the usual cop out of he's corporeal sorry I am not trying to figure out how to peg a ghost today that's more mental skill than I have right now. This guy is yours for the taking doll. Pegging has been around a long time and he's no stranger to the term. He will admit he's not really thought about it being done to him though he's willing to give it a try for you.

Benefits of ghosthood: No need to do any cleaning of the self! Downside of ghosthood with Zenji: He still has a schedule to keep for his writing and his videos. Who'd have thought he would be this active beyond the grave? You'll have to give him a time to get down so it doesn't conflict with his creative flow. I mean other than that he's free whenever you are.

Heading back to the secluded tea house because his dear little brother doll can't hear this! He's waiting there with a pen and paper, dropping everything when you show up to do his usual exuberant greeting. Despite knowing what's happening he's oozing confidence. You had hoped to see him a little nervous but he's so happy to please you it doesn't phase him. As soon as you start undressing he just poofs his clothes gone. Ghost powers are so annoyingly convenient. And wow the big dick energy was not wrong.

You'll be lazily touching and kissing on the floor for a while. Long drawn out foreplay is the only way Zenji likes to do it. It should be sensual and loving. Slow handjobs and his fingers playing with you. Wait don't get swept up in his easy loving, you have something to do here.

Minimal stretching required to be honest, probably ghost stuff. But he's singing your praises the whole time, telling you how that felt good, higher, a little bit to the right, no dear his right. Tells you how beautiful you look as you put on your harness and push into him, it definitely makes him groan halfway through his words. Pulling you impossibly closer as you slowly rock into him.

He thinks you look dashing like this, taking control, using him in a way he didn't think of. Kissing and touching you the entire time. You guys aren't going fast until you get closer. Then he starts to make noise instead of running his pretty mouth. Moaning, whining, that lovely voice of his is low and melodic. Damn you might cum without needing to touch yourself if he keeps singing for you like this.

When he comes it's loud and he's clinging to you like a lifeline. So many kisses and so much babbling about how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. God he's so sweet. He's also immediately onboard to get you off. Which doesn't take long for him and those skilled fingers and that crooning voice begging you to tip over the edge. This man is dangerous with a capital D.

Expect to be lounging around with him after the fact for a while, lazy kisses and dozing off to the sound of the rain while he grabs his pen and paper to begin writing with his new found inspiration. You'll be doing this again for sure.

Obscuary

⚰️ Edward ⚰️

Damn this man, he's a mess. Literally. This guy is a pain to deal with normally but this is gonna be a whole other story. He's gonna throw out a bunch of bullshit the second you approach him about it. What are you talking about, love? He's old you have to spell it out for him. Hmm? You know staking is supposed to be to the heart right? He's infuriating, just tell him to be ready next time you show up.

That said you should give Rui and Lyca a heads up to clear out for the night. Rui might be clenching his fists but he's dragging Lyca away for you, he gets it. Lyca not so much. It's okay, Rui has your back. You should have the whole dorm to yourselves for the night.

When you arrive he's where he always is. Laying in bed with his laptop. Fuck that thing. You pause that video and shut it. He looks sad for a split second before you descend upon him and kiss his stupid pretty face. He hums into your kisses, caressing your neck as he pulls your body over his own. You'll get lost in the process of undressing him and yourself with all the heady kisses. Why is this guy a vampire and not an incubus?

Apparently because of his diet he doesn't need to clean himself either. But the prep and stretching is harder. You know, lack of blood makes the body work less than optimal. Sorry not sorry, you're going to be working his ass open for a while. The whole time he's staring into your soul or nipping at your ear. Husky voice whispering sugary words. Asking if he can have just a taste of your blood. Not tonight Satan.

Man's not a pillow prince. He's a whole pillow king. You will be doing all the work. Which is fine. You expected this. I mean look at who you're fucking. You knew. Speaking of he lets you hear his moans openly and without any hint of embarrassment. Fucking into him slow and steady has every little breath ending with a gasp or a groan. His voice sounds so much better when it's just crying out for you.

You could probably try to change position but he prefers seeing your face. He would make it impossible to move his body if you did anything he didn't want to do. His only movements look choreographed to be honest. Like he could star in a triple A budget porn film the way he sounds and rolls his body. The years of experience do him well.

When he cums it's very little, liquid is too precious for them to waste there. He's biting you, you're going to kill him... as soon as your body stops cumming. As you try to yell he quiets you and tells you he isn't turning you, he just needed to top up what he lost in your little tryst. Unless you wanted to be like him. He could arrange that. Smack him wherever you see fit he's just going to laugh.

He'll send you emoji filled texts later about how he would love to have you on top of him again soon. Don't keep him waiting too long dear. He's an old man remember?

🧤 Rui 🧤

Oh Rui, sweet darling Rui. (As per one of my theories this will reflect the idea that the kyklos is strong enough to repel or nullify other curses (ie. oui c'est bon) and thusforth Rui can touch us without his curse affecting us.) This man is king of being touch starved. One of the top three for sure. He's already elated and just so grateful he can even hug us at this point. Hand holding? Smooches? This is his dream come true. Sure it only works on us but right now that's enough for him. A break from having to be guarded at all times. Being touched by someone is something he's missed so so so bad.

Turn the tables when you breach this topic, he'll blush if you hook your finger into the ring shaped pendant he usually wears and tug him close. A bit startled by you asking for sure, he didn't think you'd be into that. No he's not saying he won't do it. Just surprised. His favorite girl is naughtier than he thought. Give him a night and he'll get everything ready for you. Do you have the supplies? Does he need to bring something? Just ask!

Next time you see him he's opted to come to you. He used to be in Clementia after all, the cathedral is his old haunt. Plays it so cool the whole time but he's practically vibrating with excitement. Has an overnight bag and everything. Uses your bathroom to freshen up before he joins you on the bed and falls into making out as easy as breathing.

God he missed kissing. But you make it better. Drawing gasps and grunts from him when you palm his body through the four layers he wears. Stripping him feels like opening a matryoska. But he looks so handsome shirtless, and slightly out of place. You can see he's not used to it anymore. Wearing all those layers has made him a bit shy without them. Worship his chest and remind him that he's gorgeous. Oh his nipples are sensitive. 100% moaning so loud when you suck on them.

By the time you get him undressed he's completely red and panting, cock hard and throbbing, leaning towards his stomach with how aroused he is. It's been a while okay? Give him a break. And break him. Make him sob with pleasure as you finger his loosened hole and watch him thrust his hips against you. Damn you might get him to cum with just your fingers at the rate he's going.

Watches you with loving eyes as you get your strap on and cage him in with your arms. He cums as soon as you put it in. When you try pulling out he stops you with a grip on both wrists. You can't be satisfied yet right? Come on. Keep going. Fuck him like you mean it. His dirty mouth earns him a rough thrust and he throws his head back with a moan.

He asked for it so he has to deal with it. Fucking him into full blown overstim mode, tears at the corners of his eyes as he whimpers and wails for more even though he's cum once already. You'll get at least three out of him. He's a flustered red mess by the third one but he's nothing if not a pleaser. Grabs you by the hips, despite his shaky hands, tugs off your harness and makes you sit on his face. He's gasping for air still as he eats you out in a dizzy haze. Might try to get multiple out of you too.

Once you're both satisfied he's thanking you in a low, almost reverent tone like you're his goddess who bestowed blessings upon him. Remind him with kisses and cuddles that you're not doing this for him, but because you want him too. He'll be on speed dial any time you wanna do this again. And he's down for anything so don't be afraid to tie him up or dress him up or spank him. He's down bad y'all he will thank you for literally ANYTHING you do to him.

🌕 Lyca 🌕

Prepare for the confusion first and foremost. Super eager to learn what it is that you want. When you explain he looks like a dog with its' hackles raised. Wide eyes, ears and tail out, going back and forth between turning red and going pale in the face. Gaping like a fish, the whole nine yards. Man is shooketh. Home boy out here calling this an affront against nature. Can't even stop himself from saying that won't make babies.

You will need to damage control, if he goes to Subaru you will never live this down. If he goes to Rui you'll absolutely never live it down for a whole other reason. So time to soothe the beast and hunker down in your room with some library books and get to teaching him that sex isn't just for reproduction. This will be several sessions and weeks after first confrontation before he finally warms up to the idea.

If he weren't such an I'm tough and fuzzy type of guy he'd be a shaking leaf in your room once it's time. Speaking of you had to walk him through clean up and prep so he's already a little frazzled from that. Be extra gentle with him. Start soft and kiss him sweetly. His tail is wagging... don't call attention to it or he'll pout.

Once you've got him comfortable again you can take the plunge into stretching him. He whimpers, whimperer supreme over here. Bluntly tells you it feels like a sh- Lyca shh! That's not appropriate for sexy time. He's going to hide his face as much as possible.

Getting your gear on is where you see him second guessing again. Take a short break to remind him that it's okay. You just wanna try this. If he doesn't like it then you'll stop. He loves that about you. That you take his feelings into consideration. Cuddle for a bit before you get back into it.

He will lift his hips and wiggle them when you ask if it's okay to fuck him now. It's not fair how cute it looks with his tail wagging but how sexy it is with the way his cock sways. Sliding in has him shivering, give him a minute to figure out how he feels. It'll surprise you when he starts grinding back and panting, gruffly begging you to move.

Fuck him slow but hard and you'll have a tamed werewolf boy in no time. When he realizes he's making all these noises he's going to bite your pillow. I'm sorry say goodbye to that one it's done for. If he can't get a hold of a pillow or your sheets he's going to bite his lips bloody. Closer to him cumming you're going to notice his tongue hanging out and cries of your name. It's so cute, you'll have to pamper him after he comes down.

Pet his hair and tell him what a good boy he was. He's stealing your blankets and pouting for a bit. Bring him a snack and some water and then he'll beg for cuddles. Kiss his nose and tell him how proud you are of him. Try not to spit your drink out when Rui mentions how interesting Lyca's new full moon strategy of having you hold him down all night is...

Mortkranken

💉 Yuri 💉

Yessssss I have been waiting for this little brat. (/loving) He's soooo... pathetic wet cat, but also very holier than thou. This is an interesting flavor of tsundere that is a personal favorite of mine. So diving right in. Screeching. Instant halt to everything he's doing and screeching about wh-wh-wh-wh-what are you saying?!?!?!?!?!? Are you insane?!?! How dare you even think about doing such a thing with him!!!! He's so red it makes his hair look florescent. Remind your brilliant doctor that it's not that far from a prostate exam and that he shouldn't neglect his own health. Get out of his lab you worm! -Screamed with all the command of a tiny angry kitten.

Guess who texts you later in the day with a time and day and haughty tone to his words? One Dr. Isami of course. It might not be until later in the week but you have it. He is a very busy man after all. Take the opportunity to plan how to take him apart.

The night comes sooner than you expected and you get treated to a very special house call. He's red in the face before you even let him in the door. Drag him in by the tie and push him onto your soft clean bed. He'll sputter and try to argue until you drop into his lap and start attacking his lips and jaw and ears and neck. He gets overwhelmed by the frantic pace and babbles between kisses. It's easy to tell that he's already hard just from that.

Strip him down and watch the blush go down to his chest, the shivering nervous wreck of a man before you is the total opposite of his usual self assured persona. Praise him for how pretty he looks, trying to hide his erection with his hands. Push those away before you get tempted to tie them up.

Slipping into your harness and putting the strap on into it you see his eyes follow your every move. Fear and something much hotter hiding in those teal eyes. Don't expect high energy positions from him. You do have to take the lead here or nothing will happen. Man handle him into whatever position you want and work yourself into him. He's gasping and grabbing your shoulders, pulling you close as he bites his lip.

Please kiss him a lot while he adjusts to the intrusion. Distract him and mark his collarbone with your teeth and tongue. He'll be halfway to drooling before you even fuck him. And when you do oh boy. Breathy little noises are being punched out of him with every thrust, he refuses to let you move away, his body curled around yours desperately.

Yuri will be crying, full on sobs. You know it's not pain so you just need to keep fucking him until he pops. He's loud loud, man is moaning and crying and gasping when he cums like it's the most earth shattering orgasm he's ever had. It probably is actually, his toes are curled and everything. Exhausted, he is not gonna be able to help you. But that's okay. If anything you know he'll be getting a solid night's sleep now. Tuck him into your bed with you and hold him close until morning.

Don't worry about the schedule you get after a week, giving you days and times to meet him, calculated perfectly for an optimized amount of sleep for him. (He needs you to ruin his pretty hole again he just won't admit it) ❤️

🩻 Jiro 🩻

MY MAIN MAN!!! Woo!!! (also finish line in sight aaaaaa) Lanky tin man ass. Love him so much. Now it's so simple with Jiro. He clearly thinks about it for a minute before agreeing. But you have to get Yuri to allow you to steal his vice captain for a night. His medication has to be taken around whatever plans you're trying to make. The last thing you need is to call Yuri over in the middle of it because of a flare up in his condition.

Talk to Yuri later, it's suspiciously easy to get him to lend you Jiro. He also seems to be avoiding direct eye contact. Jiro said something he didn't need to you're sure of it. Anyway, your plans are made and it's time to get to it.

Jiro is a medical professional. He cleaned and prepped himself thoroughly, and if asked he will tell you with all the technical terms included. You think you see a slight smirk as he watches the look on your face change into slight disturbance. When you get him to the bed it's easy to push him down. Undress him yourself unless you want it to take forever. Take special care of his glasses as you set them aside. He'll comment that it's hard to see like this. It's okay, you have him.

Trace his scars and kiss them as you go, he'll shiver and ask you why you think that's necessary. Hush Jiro, it's foreplay and you're hot. Grunts a lot as you continue worshipping his body and stealing his oxygen with your kisses. He wonders when you'll get on with it. Alright you pushy fiend. Time to strap on and strap in.

As soon as you push in he's got an arm around you, keeping you close enough to kiss. With how tall he is it means you've got his legs pushed up, hopefully his body can handle it for a bit. It can, and he isn't about to let you go. Grunts and lets out hot little breathy noises more than anything. If he didn't rock back against you you'd be unsure if he was actually enjoying this or not. Oh trust he's into it. He doesn't really like being in control so this is perfect for him.

That being said he won't do nothing and let you have all the fun. He's still trying to keep kissing you and tugging you down to nip at your lips. Seems like fucking him has made him more outwardly affectionate. He'll probably tell you that it was some hormonal state later. Whatever you say beautiful. Just keep moaning for me.

Jerk him off in time to your hips and you'll have him cumming in no time. His o-face is so pretty you'll want to see it again and again. But not something you're able to do right now. As you go to clean him up he'll exhert some energy you didn't know he had to pull you in and finger you until you cum. Those long fingers are so dexterous and he knows all the spots he needs to hit.

And now you're trapped in the bear hug. Post coital Jiro wants one thing and one thing only and that's skin to skin contact with you. When you wake up he's gone back to Mortkranken for his medicine but he sent you a text about how he enjoyed it and Yuri says his vitals are looking nice this morning. So you'll have to run this experiment again soon to see if these results are related or not. You just know he had that little smile on his face when he constructed that excuse to get you to rail him again.

---

PS pouring one out for @kykloss who inspired me to finish this but deactivated a few days ago, you would have loved this shit my dear.

44 notes · View notes

amethystarachnid · 3 days ago

Note

Any chances of a pt.2 of ALMOST WASN'T??? I know you don't write smut, but maybe some spicy pieces about their first time... tony and y/n being the cutest couple 🥰 also reader formally meeting his parents like his girlfriend and tony meeting hers as her boyfriend now 🥰🥰🥰 ideas ideas

ALMOST WASN'T - part 2

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff, romance, High School AU, angst

ᯓ★ Word count: 7.6k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): spicy scene and reads first time

ᯓ★ Love is in the air - Valentine's Day special game

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

It doesn’t take long for a rhythm to fall into place, for the new version of “you and Tony” to settle into something that feels so natural it makes you wonder how you ever fit anywhere else.

You don’t even notice the whispers at school anymore.

The sidelong glances when Tony drapes his arm around your shoulders in the hallway, the lingering stares when he walks you to class — the same way he used to when you were just “Simon’s girlfriend,” except now it means something entirely different.

Now his fingers linger a little longer on your waist when he lets you go.

Now his goodbye kisses are soft and easy and never rushed, no longer something hidden behind closed doors or half-excuses.

And the world, for once, doesn’t feel so sharp around the edges.

It becomes a quiet sort of routine — the two of you finding excuses to escape the dull, fluorescent-lit hours of school and the expectations of the people around you.

Late-night drives. Midnight dates.

It starts with one impulsive text:

you up?

And the second you answer, he’s already outside your window.

His car engine rumbling softly, headlights dimmed so they don’t wake the whole neighborhood. You climb into the passenger seat, still wrapped in your oversized hoodie, hair a little messy, no makeup, bare-faced and half-asleep.

Tony looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky anyway.

“You hungry?” he asks, one hand casually resting on the gearshift, the other reaching for yours, fingers tangling like muscle memory.

You nod, and that’s all it takes.

The two of you end up at the all-night diner, the one with the flickering neon sign and the world’s worst coffee, but it doesn’t matter. He orders fries and you steal half of them, and he doesn’t complain, just nudges the basket closer to you like it was always meant for you anyway.

Sometimes you talk for hours, about everything and nothing — the future, the past, the dumb things that happen in class, his ridiculous inventions that only half-work, your scribbled notebook full of half-formed thoughts and dreams you never told anyone else.

Sometimes you don’t talk at all.

Sometimes he just drives. One hand on the wheel, the other resting over yours, the windows rolled down, the wind tangling your hair, the world stretched wide and quiet and endless around you.

And when the night gets too cold, you end up parked somewhere high enough to see the entire town blinking below, wrapped in his hoodie, his arms pulling you in against his chest.

“Kind of crazy,” he mumbles one night, chin resting on top of your head, “how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

“For what?” you whisper, fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against his chest.

“This,” he says simply. “You.”

Your heart squeezes, soft and full.

“Me too,” you admit.

And it’s true. You hadn’t realized it, not at first. Not when you were too busy trying to make something broken work with Simon, or pretending not to notice how Tony always looked at you when you weren’t looking.

But now you can’t remember what it felt like to settle for less.

Now all you know is his hand brushing yours as you walk through the park at midnight, sneakers scuffing against the pavement, his voice low and easy and laced with that soft kind of laughter that only happens when he’s alone with you.

Now all you know is the way he leans in to kiss you — slow, unhurried, the kind of kiss that makes the world shrink down to just the two of you — and the way his thumb brushes over your cheek like he still can’t believe you’re real.

One night, after another one of those aimless drives that turns into hours without either of you noticing, you fall asleep on his shoulder while he’s talking.

You don’t even realize it until his voice fades, and his fingers move to brush the hair from your face, his lips pressing the softest kiss to your forehead.

When you blink awake, half-lidded and drowsy, you hear his voice, quieter now.

“I’ll take you home in a minute,” he whispers. “Just... stay a little longer.”

And you do.

You stay until the sky turns pale blue and the birds start to stir and the world starts waking up again.

He takes you on real dates, too.

Movie nights at the old theater downtown, the kind where the two of you sneak in your own candy and he spends more time watching you laugh than watching the movie.

Picnic dinners at the park, the two of you lying side by side on the grass, fingers linked, watching the clouds shift and the stars blink to life.

Random afternoons at the auto shop, him working on one of his half-built projects, you sitting cross-legged on the floor nearby, a book in your lap, the quiet between you so comfortable it barely feels like silence at all.

And every moment, every glance, every laugh, it all feels like it’s slowly erasing every crack that Simon ever left in you.

Tony never makes you guess. Never makes you wonder.

It’s all there — written in the way he looks at you, the way he holds you, the way his voice softens when he says your name.

And you don’t have to pretend anymore.

One night, as the warm spring air hums through the open windows, you find yourselves parked on that same overlook again, lying back against the hood of his car, his jacket draped over your shoulders.

The sky is a mess of stars, the kind you only really notice when the world is quiet enough to let you.

Tony turns his head, watching you for a long moment, his fingers brushing lightly over yours, barely a touch.

“You ever think about the future?” he asks quietly.

You glance over at him, your lips curving into a soft smile.

“Sometimes.”

“What do you see?”

You turn your head to look at the sky again, letting the silence stretch between you.

And then, quietly:

“You.”

His hand finds yours, his grip firm, grounding, his heart racing just a little faster against your side.

“Yeah,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Me too.”

It’s easy, with him.

Even on the bad days. Even when the world feels heavy.

Because with Tony, there’s no pretending, no performing, no waiting around for someone to choose you.

You were chosen the moment he saw you standing alone in the park that night, all dressed up for a boy who never deserved you.

And now, every glance, every touch, every kiss, reminds you that you’ll never be in that place again.

Not with him.

Never with him.

---

It starts with a text.

Parents are out of town this weekend. Come over?

At first you stare at the message longer than you probably should. It’s not like you haven’t been at his place before — the sprawling house at the edge of town with the long driveway and the ridiculous front gates and the cold, modern walls that somehow never felt quite like home until Tony started filling the space with his own chaos. But this time it’s different. This time it’s just the two of you, no safety net, no casual excuse to leave early, no pretending it’s just another stop on your way home. This time it feels real, heavy in a way that’s both exciting and terrifying.

Still, your fingers type back before you can overthink it.

I’ll be there.

When the day comes, you spend longer than usual getting ready. Not too much — you don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard — but enough that your stomach knots with a quiet sort of nervousness. You’ve kissed him a hundred times, fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder, spent hours tangled up in the warm comfort of his arms, and still this feels like new territory. Like crossing some invisible line you’ve both been tiptoeing around.

The driveway is empty when you get there, the house quiet except for the distant hum of music coming from inside. Tony meets you at the door, barefoot, wearing dark jeans and a t-shirt that clings just enough to make your brain short-circuit for a second. His smile is easy, the kind that always softens the tight coil of nerves sitting under your ribs, and before you can even say hello he’s leaning in, brushing his lips against yours in a way that makes the world slow down for a beat.

“I was starting to think you’d make me eat all this alone,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to look at you, and you blink, a little confused until you step inside.

The smell hits you first — something warm and rich and definitely home-cooked, which is already surprising enough coming from Tony. He leads you through the house, fingers loosely laced with yours, and when you round the corner into the dining room your breath catches.

The table is actually set — two plates, real silverware, a bottle of wine (probably stolen from his parents’ cabinet, judging by the label), and candles. Actual candles, flickering gently, casting soft golden light across the room. There’s music playing low in the background, something smooth and old-school and stupidly romantic, the kind of thing you’d expect to hear in a movie rather than here, in this house, with him.

“Tony,” you say softly, still taking it all in, “did you actually cook?”

He grins, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Cooked, set the table, didn’t even burn anything. You’re dating a man of many talents.”

The nervousness in your chest eases into something warmer, softer, as he pulls your chair out for you, waiting until you sit before taking his own. The food is shockingly good — pasta, garlic bread, a side salad that he clearly tried to make look fancy — and the conversation flows as easily as it always does, but now there’s something new laced between the words. A quiet kind of anticipation, unspoken but thick enough to fill the air around you.

Every time your eyes meet across the table, your heart skips. Every time his hand brushes yours, your skin hums with the same electricity you felt the first time he kissed you. And when the plates are finally empty, when the wine glasses sit half-full and the candles burn low, he leans back in his chair, his gaze soft but intent.

“You were nervous,” he says, not as a question, just a simple fact.

You nod, fingers lightly tracing the stem of your glass.

“A little.”

“Me too.”

That makes you look up. His confidence always felt so natural, so easy, but now you see the same flicker of vulnerability mirrored in his eyes. The same quiet hope. The same fear of screwing this up.

He stands, circling the table to hold out his hand to you.

“Come on,” he murmurs, voice low and gentle.

You let him pull you up, following him out of the dining room and into the wide, open living space where the music drifts a little louder now. He turns, hands settling lightly on your waist, and sways just a little, enough to coax you into moving with him. You let your arms loop around his neck, your body pressed against his, fitting there like you were always meant to.

And you dance.

Slow and quiet, no fancy steps, no rush. Just the two of you, your head resting against his shoulder, his fingers brushing lazy circles along your spine, the music filling the silence between your heartbeats.

When the song fades, he doesn’t let go. He just leans back enough to look at you, his forehead pressed against yours, his voice barely a whisper.

“I wanted tonight to be special,” he says, and you can hear the honesty in it, the raw edges of a boy who’s never really known how to give his heart to someone until now.

“It already is,” you whisper back, leaning in to kiss him, slow and unhurried, the kind of kiss that says everything you don’t have the words for.

And for the rest of the night, you stay wrapped up in that quiet, perfect little world, where nothing else matters but the way he holds you, the way he looks at you, and the way it finally — finally — feels like you belong.

Later that night, the house is quiet except for the rain starting to tap against the windows — soft, steady, the kind of sound that makes everything feel slower and safer. The candles from dinner have long since burned out, the dishes are stacked in the sink, and you’re both upstairs now, standing in front of his bathroom mirror, brushing your teeth side by side like you’ve done it a hundred times before.

But you haven’t. Not like this.

Not with the world paused around you, not with the knowledge that you’re staying the night.

When you rinse your mouth and glance at him, his hair’s a little messy from running his fingers through it all night, and he looks so casual, so soft, in his matching pajama set — grey plaid flannel pants and a plain black t-shirt that fits just right. The matching set had been his idea, a half-joke, something he texted you earlier in the week:

bought us matching pjs, hope you’re ready for peak domestic life.

You’d laughed at the time, but now, wearing the set he picked — soft flannel shorts and an oversized long-sleeve top, both matching his — it feels like more than just a joke.

It feels like a glimpse at something real.

He catches you looking in the mirror and grins, reaching for his phone on the counter.

“C’mere.”

Before you can protest, he’s pulling you into his side, arm looped around your waist, holding the phone up. The first photo is a little blurry — both of you mid-laugh, your head tilted against his shoulder, his smile wide and unguarded. The second one, you’re kissing his cheek, and his eyes are closed, like he’s memorizing the moment. The third, his nose is nudging against yours, almost a kiss, the kind of almost that still makes your stomach flip even now.

You scroll through them, leaning into his shoulder, and he doesn’t say anything. His thumb lingers over the screen, hovering over the save button, and for a second the silence wraps around you both, soft and full of things left unsaid.

And then, when you finally pull away to crawl into his bed, the quiet turns a little heavier.

His room smells like him — that mix of warm cologne and old books and something faintly like machine oil from the projects scattered across his desk. The sheets are cool against your skin, the rain still pattering softly against the glass, and he slides in next to you, both of you lying on your sides, facing each other.

His fingers find yours under the blanket, his thumb brushing slow, absentminded circles against your knuckles.

And then his voice, low and careful.

“I didn’t... invite you to stay in my bed just to hook up, you know.”

You nod, heart fluttering a little at the way his words sit so softly in the dark.

“I know.”

“But,” he says, pausing, choosing his words, “I’ve been wondering. Why does it scare you so much? Sleeping with someone, I mean. With me.”

His tone isn’t pushy, isn’t expectant. It’s not laced with frustration or impatience. Just curiosity, and something softer underneath — a quiet kind of hope that you trust him enough to let him understand.

You shift on the pillow, eyes flicking away for a second, trying to steady the knot forming in your chest.

“It’s not you,” you say first, because it’s true. “I just... I’ve never felt like I was really wanted, before you. Not like this.”

He squeezes your hand, not interrupting, just listening.

“Simon never made me feel safe. Not even once. I don’t think I ever realized how much until I started spending time with you.”

You let the words sit there, heavy but true, your voice quieter now.

“I’m scared that if I give someone that part of me, I’ll lose something I can’t get back. And it’s not about the first time, not really. It’s about feeling like I matter. About it not being just another moment that doesn’t mean anything to the other person.”

When you finally meet his eyes again, you find them softer than you’ve ever seen — no smirk, no jokes, no cocky charm. Just Tony. Just him, honest and open and looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

“It wouldn’t be just a moment,” he says quietly. “Not with you. You don’t ever have to be scared of that with me.”

His hand lifts, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek.

“I’ve done it before, yeah. But it’s never meant anything, not like this. I never really wanted anyone the way I want you. And I’m okay waiting. I’ll wait however long you want me to.”

The tightness in your chest eases a little, replaced with something warmer, something safe.

You lean in, your lips brushing his, soft and slow, and when you pull back you see it written all over him — the quiet promise, the patience, the certainty that he isn’t going anywhere.

“I’m not scared of you,” you whisper. “I just want to do it when I’m ready. When it feels right.”

His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, the corner of his mouth lifting into the faintest smile.

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do.”

You settle against him, head tucked under his chin, his arm wrapped securely around you. The silence isn’t heavy anymore. It’s comfortable. Full of understanding.

And for the first time in a long time, you fall asleep without fear. Just the soft sound of his heartbeat under your ear and the quiet certainty that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

The morning sneaks in slow and quiet, golden sunlight spilling across the room through half-open blinds, the rain from last night long gone, leaving the air fresh and cool. You wake to the faint sounds of movement downstairs — the low hum of music playing on his speakers, the clatter of something soft against plates, the fridge door opening and closing.

It’s all so normal, so perfectly domestic, like this is something you’ve done a thousand times before.

You stay wrapped in the warm cocoon of his sheets for a while, the scent of him lingering on the pillow next to yours, and you let yourself drift in and out, that strange, happy sort of haze where time doesn’t feel real yet.

When you finally stir fully awake, there’s the sound of footsteps on the stairs, soft and unhurried, and then the door creaks open and there’s Tony, barefoot, still in his pajama pants and that same worn t-shirt, hair a mess but smile soft and sweet. He’s carrying a tray — two plates, two mugs of coffee, a glass of orange juice, and the unmistakable smell of pancakes.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs, walking over and setting the tray on the nightstand. “Figured you deserved room service, after surviving your first night here.”

You sit up, pulling the covers around you, your heart full and light at the same time.

“This is dangerously cute,” you tease, and his grin widens as he hands you a fork.

“You’re dangerously cute.”

He climbs onto the bed beside you, plate balanced on his lap, nudging your shoulder as you both start eating, the kind of comfortable silence that only happens when words aren’t needed. Pancakes with too much syrup, coffee with just enough sugar, his knee brushing yours under the covers — all the little pieces of the morning slotting into place like they were always meant to be yours.

And even though the conversation from last night doesn’t hang in the air, not directly, it lingers in the soft curve of his smile, the way his eyes flick toward you now and then like he’s checking — not pushing, just making sure you’re still okay.

You are.

More than okay, actually.

Because somewhere between the quiet of the night before and the golden softness of this morning, the fear you’ve carried for so long doesn’t sit quite as heavy anymore. You can feel it — the shift inside you — like the pieces of something big have started quietly clicking into place, and you’re not scared of it. Not with him.

You finish breakfast tangled together under the covers, both plates pushed aside, the coffee cooling on the nightstand as you curl into his side, his fingers drawing slow, lazy shapes along your arm. The sunlight dances across his face, making the brown in his eyes glint a little warmer, and for a long time neither of you moves.

And you think about it.

You let your mind wander, let it play out in quiet little flashes — his hands on you, his mouth on your neck, the way his voice might sound pressed against your skin, soft and low and only for you. You wonder how it would feel to close the distance fully, to give yourself to him without the hesitation that’s lived in your chest for so long.

And the more you think about it, the less scary it feels.

You can see it — clear as day, like you’ve already lived it once in a dream. His lips brushing yours, his hands framing your face like you’re something fragile and precious, his voice whispering I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you as your heart races for all the right reasons. You picture the way he’d slow down, make you laugh, ease every ounce of fear out of your body until the only thing left was warmth, and want, and him.

And it hits you, quiet and sure: you want that.

You want him.

Not out of pressure. Not out of fear you’ll lose him. Just because you’re ready.

Because you trust him.

Because the thought of it, of him, doesn’t make your chest tighten anymore — it makes your stomach flutter in a way that leaves you breathless, leaves your skin tingling, leaves you smiling at nothing.

You shift slightly, resting your chin against his chest, looking up at him as his fingers continue their absentminded trail along your arm. He glances down, catching the look in your eyes, his head tilting slightly like he’s trying to read your mind.

“What?” he murmurs, voice soft and amused.

You shake your head, smiling faintly.

“Nothing.”

But it’s not nothing. Not really.

It’s the growing, warm, thrilling thought that you don’t have to be scared anymore. That with him, when the moment is right, you’ll be ready — really ready. And the funny part is, you don’t even feel rushed.

You just feel safe.

And for now, that’s enough.

You let your fingers drift up, tracing the faint line of his jaw, and when he leans in to kiss you — slow and lazy and perfect — your heart hums with the quiet certainty of all the things still waiting for you both.

And for the first time, you’re not scared of any of them.

The afternoon drifts in slow and easy, the sky a pale blue stretched wide beyond his bedroom windows, the air still holding onto the quiet comfort of the morning. After breakfast, you both barely left the bed, letting time spill away in the soft haze of lazy conversation, shared smiles, the occasional brush of his hand against yours or his fingers tangled in your hair.

And even though the hours slide by, the thought never leaves you.

That feeling. The one that had curled warm and sure inside your chest since last night, since the soft, careful honesty of his words, since the safe weight of his arm around you in the dark. The fear that used to sit sharp beneath your skin has dulled into something quiet, replaced by something that’s been building with every soft glance and unspoken I want you tucked into his touch.

It’s late afternoon when you finally shift, propped on your elbow, looking down at him — the lazy, perfect sprawl of his body against the sheets, hair ruffled, his eyes half-lidded, the smile on his face as easy as breathing.

And you lean in, pressing your lips against his, slow at first, soft, the kind of kiss that starts gentle but deepens with each second, your fingers brushing his jaw, sliding up into his hair. When you pull back, his eyes are fully open now, searching yours.

“What was that for?” he murmurs, voice low, but the kind of low that sends heat blooming under your skin.

You swallow, heart pounding so loud it’s a wonder he can’t hear it.

“I want you,” you say, simple and quiet and sure. “I’m ready.”

For a second, you can feel the way the world tilts around him, the weight of your words hitting him all at once. He sits up a little, brow knitting, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face, thumb brushing over your cheek as his eyes lock onto yours.

“Are you sure?” His voice is so careful, so impossibly gentle. “You don’t have to. Not just because of last night, not because you think I want it — I do, God, I do — but I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.”

You shake your head, catching his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

“I want this,” you whisper. “Not because I feel like I have to. Not because you’re waiting. I just... I want you, Tony.”

The way his breath stutters out is almost a little shaky, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it, like the hope he’d kept tucked away deep finally unraveled. His hand moves to your waist, fingers brushing lightly over the curve of your hip, testing, pausing.

“Okay,” he whispers. “But if you want to stop — even for a second — you tell me, alright? Just say the word.”

You nod, leaning in to kiss him again, and this time it’s different. This time there’s no hesitance in the way your lips move against his, no second-guessing in the way your hands slide into his hair, pulling him closer. His hands are slow, warm against your skin, like he’s memorizing every inch of you, his mouth brushing over yours between soft, whispered checks.

“Still okay?”

“Yes.”

The word leaves you breathless, your heart racing for a completely different reason now, a thrill humming beneath your skin as he leans down to kiss the curve of your jaw, the soft, sensitive spot below your ear, the slope of your neck. His fingers trail over the hem of your shirt, pausing.

“Can I?” he asks, voice quiet, lips still brushing your skin.

“Yes.”

The shirt slips away, his hands tracing slow, reverent paths along your sides, his lips following, mapping out the curve of your shoulder, the line of your collarbone, the hollow of your throat.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, and you mean it. But you don’t want him to stop. Not even for a second.

Piece by piece the space between you disappears, the air charged and warm, every moment slow and sweet, every kiss deepening, his hands never moving too fast, always asking. Always waiting for the small nod, the whispered yes, the soft press of your body moving to meet his.

And when you’re finally there, the moment stretched out between heartbeats, his eyes search yours again, his hand cradling the back of your head, thumb brushing your cheek.

“Are you sure?”

You kiss him, slow and steady, fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him close enough that your foreheads press together, breaths mingling.

“I’ve never been more sure.”

And when it finally happens, it’s nothing like you ever imagined. There’s no awkwardness, no fear, no sharp edges. Just warmth, the soft hush of his voice in your ear, the press of his lips against your temple, his hands wrapped around yours, fingers interlaced as he moves slow, so slow, giving you time, space, checking in with every shift and every sound you make.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, his voice rough and full of something deeper, something real. “You’re so perfect.”

And when it’s over, when your heart’s still racing and your skin still hums with the echo of him, he doesn’t move away. He stays wrapped around you, his lips brushing your forehead, your temple, your shoulder, holding you like you’re the most fragile and precious thing in the world.

His hand finds yours under the sheets, fingers threading together, and his voice is soft against your hair.

“I love you.”

You smile, the kind that sinks all the way to your bones, your chest full to the brim, and you whisper it back, sure and steady.

“I love you too.”

And there, in the soft quiet of the afternoon light, wrapped in his arms, you know it — the fear, the hesitation, the old wounds left behind by Simon — none of it has a place here. Not with Tony. Not anymore.

Just the two of you, wrapped up in something real.

The quiet that settles between you after is the kind that sinks deep. The kind that doesn’t need filling. His fingers stay laced with yours, slow and steady, like the rhythm of your breathing. The afternoon light glows soft through the curtains, painting the room in gold and pale shadows, and neither of you rushes to move, not yet.

Tony presses a kiss to your temple, lingering there, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

“You okay?” he murmurs, voice low, almost shy, like the question is a thread holding him steady.

You nod, turning toward him, letting your nose brush his.

“Better than okay.”

His smile is soft, almost relieved, and for a moment he just looks at you — like he’s trying to memorize everything about this, about you, right now. Then his fingers trail lightly over your bare shoulder and down your arm, gentle and slow, like he’s still making sure you’re alright.

“Come on,” he whispers after a few more quiet minutes, nudging his nose against yours. “Bath?”

You nod again, and when he finally moves, it’s only long enough to pull on his sweats and grab one of his t-shirts for you — soft and worn and far too big, but it smells like him, and it’s perfect. He helps you ease into it, hands brushing along your arms, smoothing the hem down over your thighs before kissing your forehead, lingering there a little longer this time.

He disappears for a moment, and you hear the sound of running water, the soft splash as he tests the temperature. When he returns, he holds out his hand for you, fingers curling around yours as he leads you into the bathroom. The tub is filling with warm, lightly steaming water, the air soft with the scent of something faintly floral — whatever bath stuff he’d found under the sink.

He helps you step in first, steadying you as you lower yourself into the water, and then he climbs in behind you, settling with his back against the cool porcelain and pulling you gently against his chest. His arms wrap around you under the water, your back fitting perfectly against him, and for a while neither of you says anything.

The water is warm, the kind that eases every muscle, every lingering ache, the kind that sinks into your bones and washes away the edges of the world. His hands stay gentle, tracing light patterns along your arms and shoulders, fingertips trailing through the water, his lips pressing occasional kisses to the damp skin of your temple, your shoulder, your neck.

“You feeling okay?” he asks quietly, voice low and tender against your ear.

You nod, leaning your head back against his shoulder, closing your eyes.

“Yeah.” Your voice is soft, relaxed. “I feel... safe.”

His arms tighten around you just a little, the weight of him warm and steady at your back.

“Good,” he whispers, brushing his lips along your hairline. “You are. Always.”

You stay like that for a long time, soaking in the quiet, the warmth, the steady sound of his heartbeat pressed to your back. His hands drift lazily over your arms, through the water, brushing any tension away like it’s nothing. Every so often he shifts to kiss your temple again, like he just can’t help it.

And when the water finally starts to cool, he moves first, gently coaxing you to sit up, reaching for a towel and helping you out, drying you off with the same slow patience, the same tenderness as before. His hands are soft, careful, making sure you’re warm, that your hair isn’t dripping, that your skin isn’t chilled.

Once you’re wrapped in the oversized towel, he tugs you back into the bedroom, pulling you down onto the bed with him, the sheets cool against your damp skin. His hands find yours again, fingers threading together, his thumb brushing slow circles over your knuckles.

You lay there together, your head tucked under his chin, his heartbeat steady and soothing in your ear. The world feels small and safe, the softest kind of afterglow humming through your veins, every inch of you still wrapped in the warmth of him.

And he never lets go. Not once.

Even when you both drift into that light, hazy half-sleep, his arms stay around you, his hand tangled with yours, holding you close, holding you safe.

And you fall asleep knowing one thing, clear and simple:

You’ve never felt more loved.

---

Later you both decide to go out for a walk.

You take your time getting ready, slow and sleepy, like neither of you wants to admit the day’s already moved past morning. You’re wrapped in one of Tony’s oversized hoodies now, soft and worn and smelling like him, while he’s standing by the mirror, pushing his messy hair back into something vaguely presentable. It doesn’t work. He still looks like Tony — hair fluffy, jaw still a little scruffy, half-buttoned shirt hanging off his shoulder like he forgot what he was doing halfway through.

And he’s watching you in the mirror. Not subtle about it. Like the sight of you wearing his clothes, brushing your fingers through your hair, applying the lightest gloss to your lips, is something he wants to commit to memory in a thousand angles.

“You know,” he murmurs, walking toward you with that lazy, lopsided grin that always does things to your stomach, “we could cancel the walk, and the shopping, and just… stay in bed again.”

You laugh, swatting at him as he slips behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder.

“You promised me thrift stores and street pretzels,” you remind him.

“And you’ll get both. Eventually.”

He turns you toward him slowly, hands resting low on your back, his thumbs brushing over the fabric of the hoodie. He kisses you like there’s no rush — deep and soft, slow and careful, but still enough to make your knees feel slightly weak, your fingers curling into his shirt like you need to hold onto something real.

You’re meant to be heading for the door, keys already in his hand, your shoes on, his wallet stuffed in his back pocket. But somehow you end up pressed against the hallway wall instead, his mouth on yours again, his hands cradling your face this time.

“You’re really not helping us leave,” you breathe against his lips, eyes fluttering closed.

He grins, kisses you again. “You’re not exactly pushing me away, sweetheart.”

You giggle, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of his neck as his lips brush down your jaw, the air between you warm and humming — and that’s when it happens.

The front door clicks. Opens.

Voices.

Two.

“Tony?” a woman’s voice calls, full of cheerful surprise. “We’re home!”

You freeze. Tony freezes.

There’s a beat of silence as you both process it, your hands still tangled in his hair, his mouth halfway to your collarbone.

Then he whispers, eyes wide, “Shit.”

Your stomach flips.

You stumble back a little, cheeks already burning, heart hammering in your chest as you start to pull the hoodie tighter around yourself like it’s armor, like it’ll hide the fact that you were very clearly just being kissed within an inch of your life.

Tony runs a hand through his hair, eyes darting toward the stairs, then back to you. “Okay. Okay, they’re early, but it’s fine. It’s totally fine.”

You stare at him. “I’m not ready to meet your parents like this.”

“You look beautiful.” He says it without hesitation, dead serious, stepping closer again. “They’re going to love you.”

You glance down at yourself — hoodie, jeans, smudged lip gloss — and then back up at him. “I was literally wearing your boxers like ten minutes ago.”

He shrugs, grinning. “Which was hot, by the way. Not helpful now, but still worth mentioning.”

Before you can throw a pillow at him, footsteps start coming up the stairs. Tony reaches for your hand, squeezing it tightly.

“I got you,” he whispers. “Just breathe. You’re my girl. They need to meet you eventually, right?”

You barely nod before they appear — his mom and dad both stopping mid-stride at the sight of the two of you in the hallway, still holding hands.

“Oh,” his mom says, eyes flicking between the two of you. “We didn’t know Tony had company.”

Tony steps in immediately, clearing his throat, hand still wrapped around yours. “Mom, Dad — this is Y/N. My girlfriend.”

The word hits the air like a spark.

Your cheeks burn, and you give the smallest wave, eyes dipping to the floor. “Hi.”

His mom lights up. Like full-on lights up. She practically pushes past Tony to reach you, hands out, smiling so wide it almost makes your heart ache.

“Oh my god, finally. I was starting to wonder if my son was capable of actually dating someone instead of just pretending he invented women.”

Tony groans under his breath. “Mom.”

His dad steps in, calm and curious, offering you a polite handshake. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. He’s been… less annoying than usual lately, so I figured something was up.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes, a little shaky but real.

Tony squeezes your hand again. He’s still next to you, still close, still calm even though you know his heart’s probably pounding just like yours.

“Well,” his mom says, glancing between the two of you, “we were going to order dinner, but if you had plans—?”

Tony looks at you, eyebrows raised.

You smile — still nervous, still flushed, but warm in a way that settles deep in your chest.

“Actually,” you say quietly, “we were gonna hit a few thrift stores… and maybe grab some street pretzels.”

His mom claps her hands together. “That’s adorable.”

You start to relax. Just a little.

Tony leans in and kisses your cheek, whispering, “Told you it’d be fine.”

And somehow, it really is.

Even with your heart still racing and your hands slightly shaky, you know — as his mom disappears into the kitchen already asking about your favorite foods, and his dad nods at Tony like some kind of silent approval has been given — you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Tony’s hand slips into yours again. Warm. Sure. Yours.

“Still want those pretzels?” he murmurs.

You smile. “Only if we can make out again after.”

He grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”

---

The walk is long and easy, hands clasped tight between the two of you like a secret neither of you wants to let go of. Tony keeps glancing over at you, like he still can’t believe you’re real — like the weight of your hand in his, the flush of your cheeks when he kisses your forehead, the way you laugh at his dumbest jokes, is something brand new every time.

You wander through a few thrift shops tucked between bookstores and little coffee places, trying on ridiculous jackets and holding up sunglasses for each other, pausing for a moment every now and then to steal a kiss in the middle of an aisle like you’re the only two people who exist.

Tony picks out a soft, oversized crewneck for you in pale blue — “Matches your eyes,” he says, totally serious, even though your eyes aren’t blue — and you buy it because it smells like the store and him and comfort.

You eat soft pretzels on a bench under a tree, dipping them in cheap cheese and laughing at the way it gets on your fingers. His leg rests against yours the whole time, his hand on your thigh, not possessive — just close. Just there.

And when the sky starts turning dusky pink, he tugs you into his car, windows down, music playing softly, and drives you along the edge of the water where the wind smells like salt and summer. You lean your head against his shoulder at a stoplight. He kisses your hair and doesn’t even try to play it cool.

It’s one of those perfect evenings that feels like it’s glowing from the inside out.

And it doesn’t stop.

A few days pass. School feels lighter, somehow. The whispers that come with people finally realizing you and Tony are together don’t sting the way you thought they would. You’re in your own little world with him — hands brushing in the hallway, him waiting by your locker, that soft smile on his face when you show up late to lunch and slide in beside him.

Simon avoids both of you now. Madison tries to give you dirty looks in the hallway, but they bounce off. You’ve stopped caring about people who only ever noticed you when it was convenient.

What matters now is this. Tony. The way he looks at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

And now it’s your turn.

Your parents want to meet him.

You’ve been putting it off, but they’ve started asking more and more questions about where you’ve been disappearing to lately. Where the sudden glow in your smile came from. Who this “Tony” is that keeps texting you good morning and good night with hearts on either side.

So now you’re pacing your bedroom, nerves crawling up your throat as you glance at your phone for the hundredth time.

Tony: Almost there. Should I bring bribes? Wine? Bake cookies real fast?

You: Just bring yourself. And maybe dial down the sarcasm for like… the first 15 minutes.

Tony: That’s asking a lot, babe. Tony: But for you, I’ll try. Tony: Do I need to wear a suit? Tell me now.

You laugh to yourself, cheeks already warm.

When the doorbell rings, your heart actually jumps. You throw yourself into the hallway before either of your parents can answer it, swinging the door open — and there he is.

Hair brushed but still kind of wild, black jeans, a fitted dark gray sweater, leather jacket over one arm. He’s holding a bouquet of sunflowers, and his eyes go wide when he sees you.

“You look—” he starts, then falters, blinking. “Wow. Hi.”

You smile, tugging him inside before your nerves can get the better of you.

“Hi. Flowers? Really?”

“Bribery,” he says under his breath. “Plan A. If they don’t like me, I’ll fall back on Plan B — which is pure charm.”

You roll your eyes but you’re still smiling as you lead him toward the kitchen, where your mom and dad are waiting — both standing, both watching curiously.

“Mom, Dad… this is Tony.”

Tony steps forward without hesitation, offering your mom the flowers first, his smile easy but respectful.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Mrs. L/N. Mr. L/N.” He shakes your dad’s hand next, firm but not overconfident, like he’s practiced this in the mirror. “Thanks for letting me come over.”

Your mom lights up — she loves the sunflowers. Your dad stays quiet at first, but you can see the way his eyes narrow slightly, trying to get a read on Tony like he’s some kind of puzzle.

But Tony? He doesn’t miss a beat. He compliments the kitchen (“Very chic,” he says, to which your mom beams), talks sports with your dad like it’s second nature, and doesn’t even flinch when your mom starts pulling out the baby photos.

You sneak a glance at him during dinner — he’s laughing at something your dad said, sipping water like it’s wine, leaning close to you every so often to brush his knee against yours.

Your heart feels full.

You don’t say it, not out loud, not yet. But you know.

This boy — this messy-haired, genius-level, golden-hearted boy who kisses your forehead and brings you flowers and waited until you were ready — he’s it.

And when you walk him out to his car later, your fingers tangled with his, he turns to you with that look again — the one that says there’s no one else in the world but you.

“So… did I survive?” he asks, already grinning.

You laugh, pushing up on your toes to kiss him.

“They love you.”

He kisses you back, slower, softer, like he already knows.

“I love you more.”

And just like always — everything feels right.

38 notes · View notes

blissfulflw · 2 days ago

Text

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝐴𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠

Pairing- Kim Chaewon x fem reader

Genre- Angst, fluff

Word count- 6597

Requested: @kangshxrtie

You hadn’t expected to see her again.

The moment you stepped into the practice room for your first day as the new vocal coach, your heart had skipped a beat. There, standing in the corner, with her back to you and her familiar pink hair tucked under a cap, was Chaewon.

She wasn’t the same girl you had once known — that girl who would steal kisses in hidden corners and laugh into your shoulder after a long day of training. This Chaewon was polished, poised, and cold. She didn’t look up when you entered, but you could feel her stiffen, the subtle tension that pulled at the air around her.

You wanted to turn and walk out. To leave the past behind. But the weight of her presence, the years of unanswered questions, made it impossible.

The other trainees looked at you curiously as you made your way to the front. You’d trained vocalists for years, but today, your role felt unfamiliar. You weren’t just a coach now. You were an ex-lover standing in front of someone who had erased you from their life.

“Alright, everyone,” you began, trying to push the tightness in your throat down. “Let’s get started. We’ll start with group exercises before we focus on individual sessions.”

Chaewon hadn’t looked at you. Not once. It was as if you didn’t exist. You’d seen her perform on stage countless times, watched her grow into the idol she was today, but in that moment, all the air in the room felt stale. How had it come to this?

She wasn’t supposed to be this person. The girl you knew was gentle, sweet, and full of laughter. But now, she was just another idol. Just another trainee.

A perfect stranger.

The first few hours were spent navigating through the technicalities of the vocal warm-ups and choreography. You kept your distance, avoiding her gaze. When the group began to break for a short lunch, you tried to slip out quietly, but the sound of footsteps behind you made you pause.

“Y/N.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper. You didn’t turn around at first. You couldn’t. You knew if you did, the floodgates would open, and you didn’t have the strength for that.

“You’re still here,” she said, sounding almost like she was talking to herself. There was a bitter edge to her voice, a hint of disbelief.

You swallowed hard before finally turning to face her. “Of course, I am. I was hired for the job.”

The silence that followed was thick with unsaid things.

She fidgeted with the strap of her bag, avoiding eye contact. “We should talk,” she said, finally meeting your gaze.

Your heart ached, but you fought to keep your composure. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Y/N—”

“You ended it, Chaewon,” you said, your voice a little too sharp. “You left without a word, without an explanation. Do you really think there’s anything left to say?”

Her eyes softened, but the distance between you felt too vast to close with mere words. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought it was the only way.”

“Why?” You asked, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. “Why did you leave? You think I’m just supposed to forget? Like none of it meant anything?”

“I thought I was protecting you,” she said quietly, her hands shaking. “You think I didn’t love you? You think it wasn’t killing me too? But I had to let you go. I couldn’t risk your career… my career. We weren’t supposed to happen.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the pain of those years pressing on your chest. “So, what? You just decided for both of us? Without saying a word?”

Chaewon took a step forward. “I thought it would be easier. For you. For me. I didn’t want to drag you into this life. I didn’t want to be the reason you couldn’t make it. I couldn’t risk losing everything I worked for. But losing you was harder.”

The vulnerability in her voice made your chest tighten. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to yell at her, to demand answers. But there was something about her eyes — the way she looked at you now, with regret, with a flicker of the girl you once knew — that broke you.

You took a step back, swallowing the knot in your throat. “I never stopped loving you, Chaewon. But you broke me. And I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

“I don’t expect you to.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but there was an honesty there that made your heart ache. “But I’m not the same person anymore. I can’t fix everything, but I’d like to try.”

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at her. All the years that had passed, all the unsaid words and lingering feelings, hung between you like a fragile thread.

Then, you spoke softly, almost to yourself, “I’m not sure where we go from here.”

Chaewon nodded, her gaze fixed on the ground for a long moment before meeting your eyes again. “One step at a time.”

The days that followed felt like walking on a tightrope. Chaewon was still there, lingering just at the edge of your life. But there was a constant tension between the two of you that you couldn’t ignore. She seemed to want to rebuild what was lost, but every time she came close, there was something that stopped her. And something that stopped you, too.

The rehearsals grew more intense as the comeback drew closer. It was as though the work gave you both an excuse to avoid what was really happening. You’d steal glances at her when she wasn’t looking, watching how her eyes flitted around the room, but never resting on you for long. And when they did, it was always a brief moment before she turned away again.

She was keeping her distance, but it wasn’t the distance that hurt the most. It was the silence.

You remembered the way she used to hold you at night, her whispers brushing against your skin, the way she’d say your name like it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever said. The sound of her laughter, her soft touch, the way her eyes would brighten whenever you were together.

But now… she barely spoke to you. The gap between you seemed to widen each day.

⸻

She was keeping her distance, but it wasn’t the distance that hurt the most. It was the silence.

But now… she barely spoke to you. The gap between you seemed to widen each day.

⸻

It was late one night, well past midnight, and the practice room was empty except for you and Chaewon. You were finishing some vocal runs for a final check before you left. The quiet buzz of the air conditioning and the distant hum of the city outside filled the empty space. But you couldn’t ignore the feeling in your chest. The way Chaewon’s presence felt more like an absence than anything else.

You stole a glance at her as she stood at the mirror, adjusting her ponytail, her back to you.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said quietly, your voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

She didn’t turn around immediately. Her shoulders stiffened, her hands pausing mid-motion. For a long moment, she said nothing. You watched the way she held herself together, the way her jaw clenched slightly before she finally spoke.

“I’m not avoiding you,” she replied, her voice tight. “I just… I don’t know what you want from me.”

You shook your head. “You know what I want.”

Chaewon finally turned to face you, her eyes searching yours. “No, I don’t,” she said, voice shaking. “I thought I did. I thought I understood everything, but now… now I’m just not sure anymore. I can’t keep pretending that nothing happened, Y/N.”

The air between you both felt like it was closing in, and the words you had both been avoiding were now spilling out. Chaewon’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, and you could see the cracks in her facade.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” she continued, her voice breaking. “I thought leaving was the right choice. I thought I was doing what was best for both of us. But I was wrong, and now… now I’m lost. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know if I can.”

Her admission hung in the air, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. The confession she’d kept buried for so long felt like an avalanche, crashing down between you both.

You took a step back, your chest tightening, the hurt in her voice resonating deep within you. “So what, Chaewon? You think this is all just going to go away because you admit that you were wrong? That I’ll just forget everything and we can go back to the way things were? You left me without a word! I waited, and I waited, and you never came back. You didn’t even try.”

Her face crumpled at your words, a tear escaping down her cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away. She stood there, frozen. Her lips parted, but no words came out. She looked so small, so lost, like she was drowning in the mess she’d made of everything.

“I was terrified,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Terrified that if I stayed, I’d ruin everything for you. I thought if I left, you’d have a chance at a normal life. One where you weren’t tied to me… one where you didn’t have to watch me disappear behind the stage lights. I thought you’d be better off without me.”

A bitter laugh bubbled up from your chest, and you couldn’t stop it. “Is that what you think? That I needed to be ‘better off’ without you? Chaewon, I never wanted a ‘normal’ life without you. I wanted you. And when you left… I didn’t know how to keep going. You were everything to me.”

Her eyes widened at your words, and she took a hesitant step forward, but you stepped back. You couldn’t bear the closeness, not when it felt like she was still holding herself back.

“I thought you moved on,” you continued, your voice cracking. “You were out there, living your dream, while I… I was stuck. I couldn’t move past what we were, and now… now I don’t know if I can even look at you without remembering how you just walked away.”

The silence stretched between you both, suffocating. Chaewon was crying now, her shoulders shaking, but she didn’t wipe away the tears. She let them fall.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” she repeated, voice breaking. “I thought if I let you go, you’d be free. But now I see… I see what I’ve done. I ruined everything, Y/N. I ruined us.”

Her words hit like a slap to the face, and for a moment, everything felt like it was crashing down around you. You wanted to scream, to yell at her for the years of hurt, the time you’d wasted. But instead, you stood there, feeling empty.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you whispered, looking away. “I want to. But I don’t know if I can.”

Chaewon didn’t say anything. She just stood there, broken, her tear-streaked face etched with guilt.

You turned away from her, walking toward the door. “I need time. I need to figure this out, Chaewon. I don’t know if I can do this again.”

Before you left the room, you paused, the final words heavy in the air.

“And maybe we never should’ve happened in the first place.”

You could feel her eyes on your back as you walked toward the door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. Your heart was pounding in your chest, each step feeling heavier than the last.

When you finally reached the door, you hesitated. The words you’d just spoken echoed in your mind, and you felt a lump form in your throat. But you couldn’t take them back now.

You stepped out into the hallway and leaned against the cold wall, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You hated how much it still hurt. You hated how much of yourself you had left behind when you walked away. And, deep down, you hated that you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to forgive her.

The door creaked open, and you didn’t have to turn around to know she was standing there, just behind you. You could feel her presence, the weight of her gaze on your back. But you didn’t turn. You couldn’t.

“Y/N…” Chaewon’s voice was trembling, quiet, like she wasn’t sure if you would even listen. “I know you need space. I know I don’t deserve anything from you right now. But please… just let me try. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to turn and look at her. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The pain was too much, the rawness of the betrayal too fresh.

“I don’t know if I can believe you anymore,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “You told me you loved me, Chaewon. You promised you wouldn’t leave me. And then… you just left. Without a word. You gave up on us. On me.”

She took a shaky step forward, her voice cracking with desperation. “I didn’t give up on you. I didn’t give up on us. I was selfish. I thought I was protecting you. But I see now… I see now that I only made it worse. I ruined everything, Y/N.”

The tears that had been building up finally escaped, and you wiped them away angrily, hating the weakness. “You didn’t even give me a choice. You didn’t even give me a chance to fight for us. You just… walked away, and I was left wondering what happened. Why.”

“I was scared,” Chaewon whispered. “Scared of how much I loved you. How much I needed you. I thought if I stayed, I’d drag you into this world of chaos. I thought I’d ruin everything for you. But the truth is, I’ve ruined us already.”

Her words hit you like a hammer to the chest, but still, you couldn’t turn to face her. You couldn’t let her see how much you were still hurting.

“I don’t know how to forgive you,” you said quietly, choking on the words. “I don’t know if I can ever forget the way you left me, Chaewon. It’s too much.”

There was a long silence between you both. You could feel the weight of her gaze, the weight of the apology hanging in the air. But the distance between you, both emotionally and physically, felt like an insurmountable wall.

“I know,” she said finally, her voice raw and broken. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t deserve anything from you. But I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you. And I’ll spend every day trying to prove to you that I can be the person you need me to be. The person I should have been from the beginning.”

The words felt like a knife twisting in your chest. She was so close, yet so far away. You wanted to believe her, wanted to let go of the pain and just embrace the girl you once loved, but the hurt was too deep. The betrayal was too fresh.

“I can’t do this right now,” you said, your voice trembling. “I need time. I need to figure out if I even want this anymore.”

Chaewon let out a shaky breath. “I understand. I’ll give you time. But please, don’t close me out. Don’t close us out completely. Please, just give me a chance.”

Her voice was pleading now, but you couldn’t give her the reassurance she wanted. Not yet. Not when your heart felt so torn, when the anger and sadness were still too raw.

You turned toward the door, but before you could leave, she spoke again, her voice quieter now.

“I’ll wait for you, Y/N. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

You didn’t respond. You just walked out of the practice room, the sound of the door closing behind you ringing like a final note in a song you couldn’t quite finish.

_____

The next few days passed in a blur. You kept your distance, avoiding her whenever possible. Rehearsals felt colder, emptier without Chaewon’s presence beside you. The silence between you both was suffocating, and it was starting to drive you mad.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to her, or that you didn’t still care. The truth was, you cared more than you had ever let yourself admit. But the pain — the betrayal — still lingered in your chest like a wound that had never fully healed.

You spent nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if she was out there somewhere doing the same. Wondering if she was hurting the way you were. If she was waiting.

One evening, as the end of another rehearsal approached, you found yourself walking toward the rooftop — a place you and Chaewon had often gone to escape, to talk, to just be.

When you reached the door, you froze. Chaewon was already there, sitting against the railing, looking out over the city.

You didn’t say anything at first. You just stood there, watching her in the dimming light.

“Why did you come here?” you asked, your voice soft.

She turned to look at you, her eyes still red from crying, but there was something softer about her expression now. “I didn’t want to leave things the way we left them. I can’t just… walk away anymore. I need you to know how sorry I am. How much I love you.”

You took a step closer, the space between you both still uncomfortable. “Chaewon…”

“I won’t beg you,” she said, voice trembling. “But I will wait. I will wait for as long as it takes, because I need you, Y/N. I need you in my life. I don’t care how long it takes to rebuild, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You stared at her for a long moment, your heart in turmoil. You could feel the weight of the past pressing down on you, but her words — raw and honest — were pulling at you in a way that nothing else had.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you,” you whispered, feeling the tear that finally slipped down your cheek. “But I’m not ready to let go either.”

Chaewon’s face softened, and she stepped closer, closing the distance between you. Her hand reached for yours, but you hesitated before you let her touch you. She squeezed your hand gently, and you felt her warmth. The warmth you had once missed so much.

“We’ll figure this out,” she whispered. “Together.”

And for the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to believe it.

The days after that moment on the rooftop were a delicate balancing act. Chaewon respected your space, but she didn’t pull away entirely. Instead, she made small gestures, quiet efforts to show that she was still there — that she hadn’t given up, even if she didn’t know how to fix what had been broken.

It was like walking a razor’s edge, trying not to lean too much into what had been, and at the same time, not wanting to forget the possibility of what could be.

Every time you saw Chaewon, you felt your heart waver. There were moments when you thought you saw the old Chaewon in her eyes — the girl who had once held you close, laughed with you, loved you. But then you’d remember everything she’d done, everything she’d said when she walked away. And you’d feel the cold rush in again.

But still, the space between you both was shrinking, even if it was slow. She was careful with you. And you, despite the anger, despite the hurt, were still careful with her, too.

_____

One evening, a week after that conversation on the rooftop, you found yourself alone in the practice room after everyone else had left. You’d spent the whole day avoiding Chaewon, not because you wanted to, but because you weren’t sure how to be with her anymore.

The room felt too quiet without the usual chatter of your group. The silence pressed in on you, heavy and full of unspoken words. You were packing up your things, mindlessly moving from one task to the next, when you heard the door creak open.

You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

“Y/N,” Chaewon’s voice was soft, but there was an urgency behind it that made your heart flutter against your ribcage. “Can we talk?”

You set the papers down, your hands shaking slightly, but you didn’t look at her yet. You couldn’t.

“About what?” you asked, your voice strained, trying to keep the distance between you. “We’ve talked enough, haven’t we?”

There was a long pause, a heavy silence before she spoke again. “No. I don’t think we have.”

You turned, slowly, your eyes meeting hers. The sight of her hit you harder than you expected. She was standing there, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her eyes wide with something — something desperate and vulnerable.

“Y/N, I… I’ve been thinking. A lot. About everything. About what I said, about what I did.” Her voice faltered, and for a moment, she looked like the girl you once knew. “I didn’t just hurt you, I hurt me too. I didn’t just leave you. I left a part of myself when I walked away.”

You stayed quiet, the words she’d just spoken digging deep into your chest. You’d always wanted her to feel the weight of her actions, to realize what she’d done to you. But hearing her admit it — hearing her voice crack with emotion — made something in you break.

She took a step forward, but you instinctively took a step back, your eyes lowering to the floor. You hated the way you were still torn between anger and the love that refused to die.

“I know you don’t trust me,” she said quietly, taking another step, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I understand that. But I want you to know that I will do whatever it takes. If it takes a lifetime to make it up to you, I’ll do it. I just need you to see that I’m not the same person I was when I left.”

Your heart twisted. You knew she was sincere — there was no doubt in her voice. But the hurt, the betrayal, was still so fresh in your mind. You weren’t sure if you could ever let go of the pain, if you could ever forgive her for walking out on you when you needed her the most.

“How do I know you’re not going to leave again?” You said the words before you could stop yourself. You looked up at her then, your eyes searching her face for any sign of what she might say.

Chaewon’s breath caught in her throat, and she closed the distance between you with one final, deliberate step. She reached for your hand, but this time, you didn’t pull away. You let her hold it.

“Because I’m here now,” she said, her voice steady but full of raw emotion. “Because I’ve never wanted anything more than to be here with you. And if I lose you… I’ll lose myself, too. I won’t do that. I won’t walk away again.”

You looked at her, your heart pounding, and the vulnerability in her eyes pierced you like a thousand needles. You saw her. You saw the weight she was carrying, the remorse, the regret. You knew she meant it — that she would never make the same mistake again. But that didn’t change the past. That didn’t change the girl who had disappeared from your life without a trace.

“I don’t know how to trust you anymore, Chaewon,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “I want to. But I don’t know how.”

Her hand tightened around yours, and her face crumpled in anguish. “I know I don’t deserve your trust. But I swear to you, I’ll earn it back. I’ll show you every day that I’m not going anywhere. Please, Y/N… give me a chance. Please.”

You closed your eyes, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You wanted to believe her, wanted to reach out and pull her into your arms and make everything right again. But the fear, the doubt, still lingered, like a shadow you couldn’t outrun.

But then, something shifted. Maybe it was the way she was looking at you, the way her voice wavered with the rawness of her words. Maybe it was because, deep down, you knew that you still loved her — more than you had ever loved anyone.

“One more chance,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “But if you hurt me again…”

“I won’t,” Chaewon interrupted, her voice firm now, though her eyes were still glassy with emotion. “I promise, I won’t.”

You looked at her, the weight of everything between you still heavy but no longer impossible. You still didn’t know if you could trust her fully, but this — this was a step. A step toward healing, toward letting go of the past.

You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of her hand anchor you.

“Okay,” you said softly, and this time, when you reached for her, it was with the hope that maybe — just maybe — you could both find your way back to something beautiful.

You’d told yourself you would be okay. That you could move forward. But some nights, when the world was quieter, the doubts crept back in. What if you were making a mistake? What if Chaewon wasn’t ready for what you needed? What if you were setting yourself up for more heartbreak?

A soft voice broke through the chaos of your thoughts. “You’re still thinking about everything, aren’t you?”

You turned to find Chaewon standing behind you, her eyes warm and filled with a mixture of understanding and uncertainty. She had this way of knowing exactly when you were holding something inside, even when you tried to hide it.

“I can’t help it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s just so much… so much to figure out.”

She took a step toward you, standing beside you at the railing. You didn’t say anything for a long moment, just watching the city below. The two of you were silent, but it wasn’t the painful kind of silence. It was just… comfortable.

“Can I ask you something?” Chaewon said after a long pause, her voice quiet but full of hope.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Do you think we can ever really go back to the way things were?” Her voice cracked slightly, as if the question itself hurt her more than she wanted to admit.

You felt a lump form in your throat. You wanted to say something reassuring, something that would make it all okay, but the truth was, you didn’t know. You didn’t know if you could ever fully let go of the pain, of the betrayal. You didn’t know if you could forget how she had walked away without even looking back.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your voice breaking slightly. “I don’t know if we can ever go back. But… I want to try. I want to figure this out, Chaewon. I don’t know what that looks like, but I don’t want to lose you again.”

The vulnerability in your words seemed to break something inside of her, and for the first time in a long while, she stepped closer, closing the distance between you. Her hand reached for yours, and for a moment, you hesitated, but then you let her take it.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” Chaewon whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to keep hurting you. But I need you to know that I’ll keep trying. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right, even if it takes forever. I’m not going anywhere, Y/N.”

You closed your eyes, the words she spoke settling deep in your chest. She had hurt you. There was no denying that. But standing here now, with her hand in yours, you could feel the weight of her sincerity — the depth of her regret, and the strength of her desire to make things right.

You weren’t sure if you could forgive her yet. You weren’t sure if you could ever forget what had happened. But for the first time in a long while, you felt the smallest sliver of hope — the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could rebuild what had been broken.

You opened your eyes to look at her, and for a moment, there was no one else in the world. Just the two of you.

“Okay,” you said, your voice a little steadier now. “I’ll give you that chance. We’ll figure this out together.”

Her face softened, and she took a small step closer. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know what else to do. I was scared. But now, I’ll spend every day trying to make it up to you.”

You squeezed her hand gently. “I don’t need you to make it up to me, Chaewon. I just need you to be here. To be real. To be present. That’s all.”

She nodded, her eyes glistening with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. “I can do that.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like maybe you weren’t so broken after all. Maybe, with time, things could heal. Maybe you could find a way to move forward together.

_____

Over the next few weeks, things between you and Chaewon began to settle into a new rhythm. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. You began to rebuild, piece by piece, what had been lost.

There were moments when the past would resurface — moments when the hurt and betrayal would threaten to tear you apart again. But every time that happened, you would both talk it through. Slowly but surely, you learned to trust each other again. It wasn’t easy, and there were times when you both stumbled, but it was in those moments that you realized how much you wanted to make it work.

Chaewon was patient, her love unwavering. And in turn, you found yourself allowing her back into your heart, piece by piece.

And one night you’d caught her alone, in the practice room

The trainees had all left, and the studio was empty except for you and Chaewon. You were wrapping up some final vocal exercises when you noticed her standing off to the side, watching you with that quiet intensity.

“Are you staying late again?” You asked, trying to keep the conversation casual.

She shrugged, though there was something almost nostalgic in her eyes. “I never really left.”

There was something about the way she said it — as if it was a reminder of those late nights you used to spend together when she was still a trainee. You both worked through the hours, the world outside fading into the background.

Chaewon lingered in the studio as you finished packing up, and as you turned to leave, you saw her looking at you again.

“Y/N,” she called, her voice softer now, not laced with fear, but with something else — something tentative.

You paused, your heart beating faster than you’d care to admit. “Yeah?”

“I know I can’t undo the past, but I’m here now. If you want me here.”

Her words hung in the air between you, and for a brief moment, everything felt suspended in time. The weight of her confession, of the years spent apart, felt too heavy to carry alone. But this time, it was different. This time, you weren’t walking away.

Without thinking, you crossed the room and stood in front of her, your heart racing in your chest. Chaewon looked up at you, eyes wide with hesitation — as if waiting for something, for you to make a decision.

“I’m not sure where we go from here,” you said, your voice quieter now, “but I don’t want to walk away either.”

Her breath hitched, and before you knew it, she stepped closer, slowly, cautiously. “Can we take it slow?”

You smiled softly, the last of the old tension between you beginning to dissolve. “Yeah. Slow sounds good.”

And when she reached out, tentatively brushing her hand against yours, it felt like the world was finally starting to right itself again.

Days turned into weeks, and the walls between you began to crumble. There were no grand confessions — no explosive moments. Just little things. Quiet conversations between rehearsals. Shared glances. Laughter that felt more like breathing than anything else.

You’d find yourself lingering in the practice room after hours, both of you too tired to leave but too eager to stay in each other’s presence. There was an ease now that hadn’t been there before, a comfort you hadn’t realized was missing until it was there again.

Then one night, after a long rehearsal, when the air was cool and the city lights flickered in the distance, Chaewon pulled you aside.

“I’ve never been good with words,” she said softly, the moonlight catching the gentle curve of her face. “But I’m trying to show you with my actions… that I’m not the same person who walked away from you. And I never want to lose you again.”

You stood there, your heart warm despite the cool night air. There was no need for grand gestures, no need for anything other than the quiet honesty in her voice.

“Chaewon,” you said, finally letting the words out, “you never really lost me.”

And when she kissed you then, it wasn’t a hurried thing. It was slow, tentative, but there was something so tender about it that it felt like you were both finally letting go of everything that had held you back. Finally letting yourself have the love you’d both been waiting for.

_____

Slowly, but surely, you and Chaewon found your way back to each other. Not perfectly, not without scars, but together. The cracks that had once torn you apart were still there, but you no longer saw them as marks of defeat — you saw them as proof of your resilience.

You’d learned how to talk openly, to be vulnerable in ways you hadn’t before. You learned to trust again, even when the past would sometimes come back to haunt you. It was difficult, yes, but each day felt like a small victory, and each laugh, each touch, was a reminder that love, though fragile, could heal even the deepest wounds.

One evening, as the moonlight filtered through the dorm room window, you and Chaewon sat side by side on the balcony, the city lights below twinkling like stars in the distance.

Chaewon broke the silence, her voice soft, almost hesitant. “Do you remember the first time we sat out here like this?”

You smiled, looking up at the stars. “How could I forget? You insisted we come out here to watch the city lights even though it was freezing.”

Chaewon chuckled, her hand brushing against yours. “I remember you complaining the whole time, but secretly enjoying it.”

“I was not complaining,” you teased, nudging her shoulder lightly.

“Mm, I remember it differently,” she grinned, her eyes sparkling in the dim light.

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the cool night air gentle around you. It was a peace you hadn’t known in a long time, and the world felt a little smaller, a little kinder. For the first time, you realized that you weren’t just healing. You were growing — together.

“You know,” Chaewon said softly, her fingers brushing yours once more, “I never thought I’d get a second chance. And I don’t ever want to take it for granted.”

You turned to face her, your heart swelling with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just love anymore. It was something deeper, something more secure. “We’re still figuring things out, Chaewon. But I’m glad we’re doing it together.”

She nodded, her expression softening as she reached up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “We don’t have to have it all figured out right now. I think the important thing is that we’re trying. We’re not giving up.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of her hand on your cheek, a warmth that felt like home.

“I don’t want to give up,” you whispered, your voice steady and sure. “Not on you. Not on us.”

Her eyes softened, and she leaned in slowly, as if giving you the space to decide. When you didn’t pull away, her lips met yours in a kiss that felt like a promise — a promise of more days like this, of laughter and quiet moments, of love that would grow, even when the world around you felt uncertain.

The kiss deepened, slow and tender, and for that moment, all the hurt, all the fear, and all the doubts melted away. It was just the two of you, and everything else felt like it could wait.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and with hearts full, Chaewon rested her forehead against yours.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice full of everything she had said, everything she had shown you, and everything she had yet to say. “I’m never going to stop.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you realized you truly believed her.

“I love you too,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

And in that moment, you both knew that no matter what life threw your way, no matter how many obstacles stood in front of you, you would always find a way back to each other.

Together.

#blissfulflw ❀ fics #kpop #kpop gg #le sserafim #le sserafim fluff #le sserafim angst #le sserafim x fem #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x you #Kim Chaewon #chaewon x fem #chaewon x reader #chaewon x you #fluff #angst

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weaselle · 2 days ago

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#i have a solution for a lot of this i'd love to implement but it means completely changing how people acquire and own dogs so#idk if i'll ever figure out how to make it happen

Would love to hear your proposed solution! I've been thinking a lot about providing satisfying enrichment to dogs, since right now I have a five-month-old puppy of unknown/mixed breed who of course has a steadily increasing amount of energy. She seems to enjoy doing obedience-type stuff with me, and I'm planning to try nosework with her soon, and when she's bigger I'm hoping to take her running/hiking.

ooooooo now you done it! :)

first of all, congrats on a great dog, sounds like you two are going to be really good together! I l really love the interest you are taking in enrichment. If you are not a runner yourself but want to run your dog, i can recommend biking your dog with walkydog (or any other similar product by some different brand, but i use walkydog even though the name drives me crazy because it's not for walking your dog lol)

i used this for 8 years with my own dog, and i've also been doing it professionally for other people's dogs (tho i did have to upgrade to a whole rig i designed and built for running dogs, i actually spent most of today working on a redesign to fix fit six dogs and just be generally better, but here's the original)

anyway, biking with my dog was so fulfilling i decided to make it my main job, so, i totally recommend it. You gotta wait until your dog is at least 18 months though, because regular long runs on hard surfaces can create lifelong joint issues if you start them on it too soon. But once you decide to start it will be easy i'm sure, 95% of the dogs i've done it with understand the assignment and decide they love it within the first 10 minutes of trying it. Even small dogs, as long as they are proportional in the leg department. What i mean is a jack russel is fine for this (they make a low attachment for small dogs) but a dachshund has stubby legs and a long back and should not be considered for this activity. And if they are a breed that has big fat paws (most bully breeds, giant schnauzers etc) you have to check their foot pads often and possibly get them some mushing booties.

OKAY, on to the actual ask! you came here from a specific post, dear Anon, but i'm going to paste the relevant part of that post here for other people

"Human lifestyles and canine lifestyles used to be a ven diagram that was much closer to a circle. We used to both live in the woods and hunt creatures and defend territory. Even farming or ranching is not too far from this lifestyle. It has been a great match up for a long time. But now, modern™ society has us living in a way that is much less of a match up. Clients want me to train their dogs not to bark, and are not encouraged when i explain that we spent literally thousands of years asking them to bark more, actually, so it’s going to be an uphill battle. Humans used to have very physical lifestyles, and it use d to be much rarer to spend a day where your dog couldn’t be with you all day doing normal dog behaviors. Now our lives are full of very strict and confining rules of behavior we expect from a dog, and yet people are spending less time than ever socializing/training their dogs to be functioning members of their own pack. It’s sad."

Now, what did i come up with that would be a much better system for how people acquire and own dogs? this post is already getting long, so, answer below the cut

First, specifically what problems am I solving? So for me, the main issues is nobody is teaching dogs how to be a good fit for a modern home. Let's break that down

People want dogs to have a lot of boundaries. For example don't bark unless someone is literally breaking in but also i haven't trained you what that looks like so how are you supposed to know -- be with me in public but do not interact with almost anything at all -- don't run up to greet people or other dogs unless we find out if it's okay with them first. Right? there's a lot of stuff we want from our dogs.

People want their dogs to be able to amuse themselves and not need a person, like, they want their dog to go lay down on their dog bed and chew their dog toys for hours at a time or whatever, the way we would happily spend a few hours online or watching TV shows or something. But most of what a dog would naturally do to amuse themselves is off limits -- no going out and exploring the world on your own -- no digging things up, taking things apart, or getting into things like the food cupboards -- no barking at other dogs, chasing cats, or eating random ground scores ... dogs aren't allowed to do almost anything they would do to amuse themselves, we basically tell them, "you can only do fun things i pick out for you and most of them only if i'm supervising, and i'm only available for about an hour a couple times a day. The rest of the time you have to be bored and waiting on me for fun, but also don't be so bored that you decide to bother me, i'm busy and you can't be involved"

We wish they would have fun by themselves in a way that doesn't involve them getting into trouble, but "getting into trouble" is most of their natural desires, and we tend to not find things they can spend time at on their own. Plus they'd rather do it with us anyway, it's like, you don't want go to an amusement park alone, you only want to go if your friends are going, and life is often one big amusement park to a dog.

But if your dog is trained to be in public, you can involve them with a lot more of your day!

And people aren't socializing their dogs right either. A puppy would normally spend a year or more, 100% of their waking life in the company of their littermates, teaching each other things like "if you are an asshole others won't want to play with you and you might get bit" and "paying attention to what others are communicating to you is important" and "biting me that hard is okay for playing but biting me this hard hurts actually and i hate it and play time is over now" all kinds of super necessary things for a young dog to learn

But we take them at 8-10 weeks! and then WE don't teach them this stuff! and we expect them to be alone for long periods of time! and not sleep in a giant cuddle pile of loved ones, and not be participating in what their siblings or mother are doing 100% of their waking life.

It's crazy, we're basically severing a dog from the experiences they need to be a well adjusted member of our pack, and then we go like "why are you like this!?"

Oh dear, i still haven't gotten to the actual solution

SO. Here it is:

Dogs, should be born and raised in a facility (not like a sterile warehouse building or whatever, yuck, but yes like, a place designed inside and out for the sole purpose of raising dogs)

At this facility would be adult dogs that also help teach the dogs (important, in terms of socialization and even in modeling behavior, dogs can often learn more from other dogs than we can teach them on our own) And of course there would be a staff of professional dog nannies/trainers.

Dogs would learn things like, proper barking etiquette, go to the bathroom where they are told it is okay (not just in the yard, but where in the yard, and how to be told where is okay if, for example staying in a hotel or overnight with friends or family) no resource guarding (no threatening to bite anyone who gets too near their food or toys etc) how to behave around children and small pets, how to behave in public, how to calmly let someone feel between their toes, clip their nails, enjoy a bath, behave at the vet, not beg for food, heel off leash, how to learn new home and pack responsibilities using a basic toolkit (so for example they know basic task "carry", and understand that they may be asked to do jobs involving that, such as "help me carry groceries in from the car. Dogs LOVE to be a functional part of the pack). All this and more.

all the things that give a pet dog access to a better life. If they are calm at the vet they don't have to be held down or other things that can cause panic, if they behave in public they can go with their people more places more often, etc. As well as some additional bonuses like get outside if you hear a fire alarm, don't be scared of fireworks, the difference between safe sidewalks and dangerous roadways...

The time, energy, and skill to do all this for your dog? nobody has all three. Getting a dog from a facility like this would result in a dog that had actually been given the tools to be a really good fit for a modern home, which means a better life for the people, and a MUCH more fulfilling life for the dog.

But people want puppies. I get that. Here's how it works. Keep in mind that most dogs become fully adult at about 2 years old, and that once the facility was operating the exact ages and periods of time would probably be adjusted and fine tuned, but here's the basic idea

you come see the puppies at about 2 weeks old, visit as many days a week as you want. At twelve weeks old (3 months) specific puppies and people are matched. Continue to visit as many days a week as you wish, and take your puppy home for 24 hours every other week (remember most people bring puppies home from a breeder at 8-10 weeks, so this is prime puppy age)

Meanwhile you start taking our one class per month, year long dog course, matched to the stage of development your puppy is experiencing, held at the facility where you have access to, for example, watching trainers work with dogs, and observing groups of dogs in areas alone together, so that you understand dog behavior and communication, understand the basics of dog training, etc, and we are all on the same page when your dog does come to live with you.

At six months old your puppy is this much of a puppy still :

They start joining you for most of your classes which can become more personal, helping you practice whatever you are trying to accomplish at home. Also starting at 6 months you take your puppy home every other weekend.

At 8 months you take your puppy three weekends each month (actual days don't mater, if you work in restaurants and what to have your dog on your "weekend" of wednesday/thursday that's fine, it should just be your days off so that you can dedicate enough of your time to being with your puppy) At ten months you take your puppy every weekend, or perhaps something like for one week in the first half of the month and one weekend in the second half.

One year old puppies are starting to look like a whole dog but are still only half baked

At a year, your once a month classes end, and you take your dog home every other week. You are half a dog owner, you spend half your time with your half grown dog.

Between 18 months and 2 years is a normal age for wolves to begin setting out on their own; being 18 months is sort of the dog equivalent to being 17 years old.

So when your dog is a year and a half, 18 months old, you take one follow up class and your dog starts spending 3 weeks per month with you.

At a year and nine months old they are only spending 1 weekend a month at the facility (again, could be any two days of the week) and the rest of the month they live with you.

At two years old you take your final class which is mostly a group Q&A with a little graduation party, and your dog comes to live with you full time as a newly adult dog. But they've already been spending at least 3 weeks a month with you for the last half a year, and about half of every month for the six months before that.

And then for the next year they come back to the facility for a weekend of training touch-ups and trouble shooting, once every three or four months if they are having no issues, once a month if needed.

If this was the norm, dog owners and their dogs would all have better lives.

Costs of this raising could be augmented through boarding and daycare, since the facility would be an ideal place for dogs to stay, as well as the programs outlined below, such that each dog is not too expensive for people. Currently people spend a lot of money for purebreds and very little money for random adopted dogs, and something like this could still be true, (responsibly bred) purebreds for more money, mutts for much less, but all with access to the full training -- it's important that the dogs all not cost too much or it won't be normalized and puppy mills and backyard breeders etc will still provide a huge percentage of the dogs people get and then only rich people's dogs will benefit from what i am trying to do, so, these other programs and pure-breed mark ups etc would be necessary)

So these facilities should also be training service dogs of all kinds, and, depending on the location of the facility (city or countryside) different jobs like search and rescue, herding, anything related to law enforcement (simply because i 100% do not trust the cops to be training their own dogs) hunting... any and all dog jobs.

AND this would be a perfect way to ensure my other dog idea gets done

Because i think there should be battalions of diagnostic dogs.

I think there should be a few diagnostic dogs at every public event, every sporting event, every concert, every mall, and certainly every hospital... Every crowded place there should be a few dogs moving though, or posted up at walkway intersections, etc. Dogs that diagnose heart murmurs, diabetes, cancer, whatever; dogs can diagnose all kinds of things. It only takes a few sniffs or a few seconds of listening and they can know. As a free diagnostic service paid for by municipalities, states, or federal healthcare funding, they could be pointing out all the people who have these conditions to their handlers (who would have little business cards that just said, hey you've been dog-diagnosed with ____, you should probably check with your doctor about that"). And you could get like, special little lightly scented bracelets or key chains or necklaces or something that would let dogs know if you've already been diagnosed with their thing.

Many of these conditions currently require lab work and weeks of time and a bunch of money to diagnose, and you have to realize you might have it and ask for it and your doctor has to agree that it's necessary, it's a whole thing... but a dog could do it for free in 10 seconds while you were walking into a shopping center.

Anyway, those are some of my dog thoughts

#dogs #dog training #dog thoughts

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aziraphales-library · 3 days ago

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Hello there! Do you recommend WIPs or only completed fics? I saw you posted someone's self-rec, and also saw some posts under your Resurrectionists tag and realized that my fic might be what some people are looking for.

But it is still in WIP status and I'm slowly working my way to the end (disability, writing inexperience, other stuff has been slowing me down, but it's all mostly written and I'll never abandon this fic).

So! If you do WIP's and it might be what some are looking for, here it is! TYSM! Have a fantastic day!

Stunning View

Rated E, 39K words so far - 6.25 of 9 chapters posted (that .25 is a "mini" chapter that will be updated to the full thing when it's done)

The fic picks up in the graveyard during the last couple minutes of The Resurrectionist. It's basically, "what would happen if Crowley had NOT been dragged down to Hell?" (In my mind, the fic basically has "The Longest Night" vibes, but for that night in Edinburgh.)

Lots of fluff, attempts at humor (Crowley off-his-head on Laudaunum is VERY fun to write), romance, science, AND eventual smut (we've dipped our toe into smut-adjacent, but the real smut is in the upcoming chapters).

Official blurb:

When Hell fails to notice Crowley’s Very Good Deed, he is left in an Edinburgh graveyard trying to navigate a world tilted by laudanum. Fortunately for him, Aziraphale has no intention of leaving him to fend for himself. And Crowley's compromised brain-to-mouth filter leads to a far more enjoyable evening than they expect.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55788475/chapters/141632716

Hello my dear! We welcome any recommendations! And thank you for taking the time to share. It's so very lovely to hear nice things about the fan fiction writers in our community.

Stunning View by LaudaddySmitten [Rated E, 39K words, WIP]

Edinburgh, 1827 When Hell fails to notice Crowley’s Very Good Deed, he is left in an Edinburgh graveyard trying to navigate a world tilted by laudanum. Fortunately for him, Aziraphale has no intention of leaving him to fend for himself. And Crowley's compromised brain-to-mouth filter leads to a far more enjoyable evening than they expect.

Crowley stared at Aziraphale through a long, drunken pause during which his brain's temporal lobe made an admirable effort to process Aziraphale's words. It was mostly unsuccessful, but it could hardly be blamed for the visual cortex hogging all of Crowley's attention.

“You're so lovely!” He loudly blurted out with a toothy grin, before continuing. “You're like…glowy. Twinkly? No, 'bright’, probably. Oh I know the word- beautiful! You're beautiful. Beautiful Angel. Oh! And when you smile like that it's even better!”

-Mod AB

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #adult omens #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic recs #good omens s2 #mod ab

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sharksfrommars · 16 hours ago

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For the Asylum AU

What do you think their parents felt about Everything that happened?

I feel like Filbrick would play the blame game, A LOT.

He’d blame Stanley for ruining his chances and future. Making ford feel like a failure for losing millions, which made him to be the perfect prey for cult influencers

He’d blame Ford for getting caught up in a Satanic Cult. And killing his brother. Permanently, tarnishing their name leading them to be shunned from the community.

But… he’d ultimately blames himself more than anything… he blames himself for picking favorites, and just seeing his kids as investments. He blames himself for causing an imbalance. For focusing too much on Stanford because his potential was apparent. Which lead to Stanley getting all jealous sabotaging his brother. But he also acknowledged that he gave Ford a big ego and enabled him, and so when he was by himself after failing going to WCT, he ultimately chose a cult who done nothing but enable him even more.

Ultimately, Filbrick would actually feel bad and lash out on everyone blaming even himself.

Omg this is so good! Fully agree. (I did not anticipate writing this much! I’m meant to be getting ready for work but this was so good, I couldn’t not write about it!)

On the outside, Filbrick pines is stoic and uncaring. He disowns Ford, he has to. He never expected to have raised a murderer. Especially one who murdered their own brother.

Filbrick cared about the twins. And he never stopped. He was hard on them because he expected the best from them, at least that’s what he told himself. He kicked Stan out because he didn’t think he was going to amount to anything without a push. He needed to learn how to make money for himself to build a stable life. He thought he was doing the right thing. And maybe he was angry, so sue him! The boy had just ruined Ford’s chances at college, of course he would be angry. He had to follow through.

he was rooting for Stan though. He believed that one day, Stanley would return, having made an honest life for himself. He told himself that Stan would understand why Filbrick did what he did. He never believed Stanley would die out there, in such a gruesome way. At the trial, as he saw his son gleefully describe how he tortured and killed his brother, Filbrick felt his eyes tear up behind his dark glasses.

The last time he would ever see Stanley was him on the pavement, with tears in his eyes, begging to his brother to help him.

Ford’s decline hurt more. In recent years, Ford and Filbrick hadn’t been getting along. There were a lot of arguments, about money, about their mother, about how Ford seemed to have just abandoned his family to chase fairies in Oregon. He thought Ford needed a reality check; the boy always had his head in the clouds, but he was letting fantasy interfere with his chances for a stable life.

He should have seen it as a sign, in retrospect. Of course Stanford was being manipulated. Of course he’d become a satan worshiper, denouncing his duty to his family for monsters. Isn’t that what he always did? Ford hasn’t visited home in years, he barely called. Filbrick figured he must’ve been taken in by the cult in college. That’s when the strain on their relationship started.

Ford was meant to be their ticket out of poverty. The twins didn’t know just how close to the poverty line they were, Caryn made sure of that. Ford getting a full ride into college was supposed to make all their suffering for all those years worth something. Now, Filbrick thought he never should have let him go.

Now, he couldn’t look his son in the eyes.

Caryn and Fibrick visited Ford once. It was hard, seeing their little genius, locked up and manic. Saying all sorts of horrible things. Filbrick didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. The man in front of him was not his son, it couldn’t be. Caryn ended up shouting at Ford, begging for a reason until she was nothing but a pile of tears. Filbrick disowned him on the spot.

the people around town talked. The story spread through Glass Shard Beach like wildfire. People wouldn’t buy from them anymore, they could barely walk down the streets. The pawnshop closed down, and Filbrick had to go back to work as a bricklayer to support himself and his wife.

Sherman sent money every month. Not much, just enough to cover a few groceries. But he was angry, that they just “abandoned” Ford. He rarely spoke to them, except to give updates on his brother. Filbrick never wanted to hear it.

Caryn was despondent, barely even there. She spent her time sitting at the beach, staring off at the silhouette of the boat her boys played on, all those years ago. She lost a part of her soul, that day in court. Lost her spark, her motivation to survive. She barely spoke to her friends (not that they called), she stopped doing card readings and her whole ‘psychic’ shtick. More often than not, she’d find herself at the bottom of the bottle, a complete mess. If it wasn’t for Filbrick taking care of her, in all his seriousness and practicality, she would’ve ended up on the streets.

on the outside, Filbrick was stoic, uncaring. But he too lost a part of himself that day in court. He lived on routine and regret, going through the motions. And he would spend his nights in bed alone, as his wife got drunk at the TV, and his mind would wander around all the mistakes he’d made.

#gravity falls #gravity falls au #reverse portal au #asylum ford #filbrick pines #caryn pines #stanley pines #stanford pines #this was sad to write #Drabble

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andielle · 3 days ago

Text

prologue|chpt. 1|chpt. 2|chpt. 3|masterlist

You and Bucky have shared this relationship for almost a year now. He sleeps with you to relieve stress, you sleep with him to free you from your slight crush on him.But what happens when Bucky breaks the rules of your relationship, and yearns for more?

MODERN! Office AU! Bucky x Reader

chapter 3: amends | 1.5k words | warnings: none!

YOU threw your work bag onto the couch, before throwing yourself onto it. You sunk into the cushions, letting out a satisfied sigh as you finally let your muscles relax.

Your relaxation was interrupted when you heard your phone vibrate in your pocket. You checked, and it was Nat. “Hey Nat,” you greeted her through the call.

“He was staring at you like a piece of meat!—I mean, he does have a staring problem, but this takes the cake,” Nat exclaimed, and you could imagine her pace around her room whilst she talked.

“Really? I didn’t notice,” you lied through your teeth. Of course you noticed, how could you not notice when his blue-gray orbs stared at you? It was unnerving sometimes, especially when he does that thing with his eyes narrowed—yeesh! It gave you the heebie-jeebies, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a bit warm in your core.

“Yeah okay, I just really needed to leave you both alone together, the tension was so thick you could-”

“Cut it with a knife, yes I know,” you continued her sentence for her. “Exactly,” she replied, “Do you need to talk about it? I swear, today was the first time I’ve ever seen you so… Pent up,” she asked, with worry apparent in her voice.

Pent up? I guess you could say that. Bucky was up to no good, what exactly was he trying to do? “I’m fine. Thank you for checking up on me but I’ll handle it,” you reassured her.

You weren’t going to handle it, you already knew. You would just let this go by, but why? You knew that you didn’t have a crush on him anymore, you think. Yet, you still held onto this relationship like a vice, refusing to seek other people. Maybe Bucky was right, that there were a lot of people willing to be with you, you didn’t have to stay.

You have thought about this before, but the more you think about it, you realize that you really can’t imagine yourself being with anybody else. Being with Bucky, as much as it hurt the next morning, it felt right.

“I swear, if you try to keep it to yourself, I will personally come by-” her voice was interrupted by a knock on your door. You straightened up out of surprise, eyeing it.

“Somebody is at my door, I’ll call you later Nat.”

“Alright, bye,” she said right before you hung up. You stood up from your spot and you walked towards your door, your footsteps feeling heavy. Nobody ever visited you this late at night, unless…

—

“Man, I have no idea what’s going on with you and her, but she looked pretty upset back there,” Steve says worryingly as he takes the seat next to Bucky. “Is there anything I need to know?” he continued, looking at his friend, who currently had a troubled look on his face.

When Bucky didn’t answer immediately, Steve didn’t press on further, “Hey, if you need a pal to talk to, I’ll be here, alright?” Steve pats him on the back.

Bucky pursed his lips. He trusted Steve, but a part of him is guilty of what he’s done to you. He was afraid of telling Steve what had been going on. He was basically using you for months. One of the only people that liked him—he used and he hurt.

I keep my part of the agreement, no matter how hard and painful it is, and I only expect you to do the same. Painful? Was this painful for you?

“Steve, if you were ever to make amends to a woman after hurting her, how would you go about it?” Bucky finally spoke.

Steve was taken aback by the question, but tried his best to answer with full sincerity, “Well, it would be best to talk to her, one on one…”

—

Bucky paced back and forth in front of your apartment door, trying to rehearse what he wanted to say. Acknowledge that you’ve hurt her, that’s the first step to making amends. He raised a fist to knock, but he was hesitant. He took a deep breath.

Knock, knock. After a few seconds, he heard the thuds of your feet approaching the door. He held his breath.

With a click, he was met with your eyes. Your hair looked slightly dishevelled, like you were just lying down a moment before. You certainly weren’t expecting him, because your eyes blew wide at the sight of him. He has never showed up uninvited at your door, you both always came to your apartment together, but he has never personally seeked you out.

“Fancy seeing you here.” you broke the silence, your hand leaving the doorknob, so you could cross your arms. “If you’re here to sleep with me then-”

“No, no.. I’m not here for that,” he quickly said. His throat felt dry as he stared at you. He cleared his throat, “Look, I just wanted to apologize for today, I don’t know what came over me.”

You raised a brow, slightly losing your tense posture. You untangled your arms and they rested at your sides. You half-expected it to be Bucky at the door, but you didn’t expect this. You weren’t displeased though, because it felt nice to finally have him visit out of pure decision. You stayed quiet for a few seconds, mouth slightly agape.

“Do you wanna come in?”

“Please.”

You moved to the side so Bucky could step in. He was nervous, but not because he was in your apartment, no, he’s very familiar with it, especially your bedroom. He took his shoes off and headed to sit on your couch. You walked into your kitchen, with his eyes watching your every move. You eventually returned with two steaming mugs, the smell of green tea gently wafting in the air. You placed it onto the table in front of him before you took the place next to him.

He grabbed the mug, examining its whimsical design, “This looks similar to the one you gave me on my birthday,” Bucky chuckles before taking a sip of the hot tea.

“That’s because I made it, very poorly as you can tell,” you stated while sinking into your couch once again. Bucky wasn’t surprised, it seemed like you’ve done every type of art before. Yet, he was a little sad that he didn’t know this sooner.

“It looks good.” Bucky reminisced when you gave him the mug on his birthday, it was colorful and oddly shaped, and it had his name on it. He still uses that mug to this day, and it was the only thing he didn’t put in his dishwasher, he would always hand wash it, afraid of it breaking or cracking it in the machine.

He looked over at your spot on the couch, and the mug you were currently holding had your name on it too, with a similar design, it was matching.

“You know,” you blew on your tea, “It’s been so long since we’ve genuinely hung out like this,” you said before taking a small sip. You were right, it has been a long time. Ever since you both started sleeping together, the friendship before almost dissipated, leaving behind an empty cast.

“I miss it—our friendship,” you looked at him. Were your eyes teary or was it the steam?

Bucky gulped as he gaped at you. His hand twitched against the mug he was holding. He stayed silent as you continued. “I don’t mind this-” you waved your free hand around, “relationship we have, it would just really be nice to be able to talk and laugh with you again,”

He’s afraid to admit it, but he thought the same too. But he was scared to say it, why? He has opened up to you, so many times. But this relationship with you made him realize so many things about himself.

Including the fact that he wouldn’t mind being more than friends with you. In fact- no, no no no. He can’t do that to you. He’s a damaged man. He’s scared that once he has you he won’t let go. He has already been doing this to you for the past ten months, using you so he can keep you to himself without commitment. Because, he knows if you and him were anything more than that, he will be so hurt once you leave—even worse, you'll be hurt.

He is so scared.

“Are you okay?” he didn’t even notice how silent he was until he heard your concerned voice.

“Yes, yeah, I’m fine,” he blinked hard and licked his lips, he looked at you again with your worried eyes. Your eyebrows were slightly scrunched up.

“Do you-” he stuttered, “Do you mind if I…” he looked into your eyes, “Come over sometimes? At night? Just to talk and hang out, just like this,” he braced himself.

Your lips curled into a smile, and he saw that exact same spark in your eyes.

“Sure.”

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #steve rogers #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #bucky fluff

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cozzzynook · 2 days ago

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i love the tfone momatron asks so much ;_;

There was the skid of tires and the CRASH of two mechs colliding, and Megatron looked up into middle distance. Maybe, if he stared long enough and prayed hard enough, whatever problem it was would just. Go away.

The whispered arguing rose in volume. There was a clang of someone shoving someone else, and then the tell-tale twang of a weapon priming.

Megatron scowled and pushed up from where he was sitting, storming out of his alcove. The calculations that had been plaguing his work time had started a familiar ache in his processor, and he wasn't in the mood for any slag--

That must have been clear on his face because Thundercracker and Starscream pulled away from each other immediately. Starscream was already scowling, and it only deepened when he made eye contact, but Thundercracker seemed strangely tense. Neither of them spoke. Something about the combination of them and the noise he'd heard seemed off, but he couldn't place it.

"Well?" he snapped.

Starscream crossed his arms over his cockpit.

"Uh," said Thundercracker. "Chasing an intruder. Sir?"

Starscream snorted. "No you weren't."

Thundercracker scowled, opening his mouth to retort, and Megatron cut him off to avoid the argument or he'd never find out what had happened. "Did you shoot them?"

"I was trying to--"

"And I stopped him, you're welcome."

"Yeah, it's the Commander's fault--"

The clatter of running legs rounded the corner, Ravage in a full tilt towards them making Megatron frown. Hadn't she been on-

Realisation hit him like a lance through his spark and his processor reset, cannon shorting with a whine as his defensive systems engaged. Starscream snorted again, stepping away from the wall as Thundercracker stepped back reflexively at the brightening of Megatron's weapons, and there was another clatter as Ravage took him out at the ankles.

"Like I said, you're welcome for me stopping your sparkling from getting shot," said Starscream emphatically, pointing at the busted vent cover just below his knees. "Looks like you've hit your first milestone, congratulations."

Megatron dropped to his knees, ignoring the sounds of biting happening behind him and peered into the vent, his eyes making a red cast reflect off every surface.

Hot Rod's plating reflected back at him, but not in a configuration he recognised. There was a little tire towards the back where he'd expect to see legs, and his engine was revving tiredly in little bursts, the sound of another tire trapped out of sight. He had two tires now, when had that happened?

Spark in his throat Megatron reached out and carefully hooked a hand under Hot Rod's plating, marvelling at how thin it felt, how close to his hand his engine was. Hot Rod ceased wiggling immediately, beeping and chirping at Megatron. He was just hooked on the corner, and it didn't take much negotiating to pull him out.

In Megatron's lap was a tiny vehicle. Strange emotion swelled in him to look at Hot Rod in his first alt mode--a transitionary alt mode? It looked like he was going to be a car of some kind, but he didn't have the wheels for it yet, and while he could see where doors were going to be it was all smooth plating, and his engine block hung low in the middle, protecting his spark.

Faster than two legs, but not fully grown.

His frame shuddered, and then Hot Rod transformed, looking startled at himself. He laughed, a trill of beeps and pleased chirps as he pushed his hands up at Megatron's face.

Megatron didn't know what he looked like, but from the way Hot Rod's face fell and he shied back he needed to get it under control. He pulled his electromagnetics close and caught one of Hot Rod's hands, pressing it to his cheek, nuzzling him gently. "Well done," he said, unsure of how he was keeping his voice steady. "Good work Hot Rod, that is how you use your t-cog, I'm so proud."

Warmth burned in his spark as Hot Rod nuzzled back, his engine hiccuping again. His little spark was already tired, too excited from the transformation, from his first drive. Megatron could remember that, all too well.

"Good for you," he whispered, uncaring if Starscream or anyone could even hear him. "No one can take this from you. I promise."

😭😭 whoever you are, thank you.

#transformers one #momatron #hot rod #starscream #ravage #thundercracker #grannyscreamer #feels #all the momatron feels #mechpreg #valveplug

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rios-bug · 2 days ago

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Sick days and Cuddle Piles

So I owe @alittlespa-gay-ceforme a fluff fic for angst I have given! So here we go!

Alice was having a day,it wasn’t a bad day but it was one of those days she had no idea what she was doing half the time. She was rarely ever a solo caregiver with one of the littles..but with three of them. Agatha was around one and had not left Alice’s arms without whining,Rio in her usual four year old headspace energy to go on all day and lastly Jennifer who was nine but refused to admit it.

And Lilia the woman who Alice now understands deserves all good things in her life as she’s been a solo caregiver for all four of them before who was laid up in bed sick. Alice has spent her day having to guide them all away from Lilia cause she needed rest.

It.Was.Not.Easy.

“Agatha bunny I know you want momma but she needs sleepy time. She feels sicky right now.” Alice said softly as Agatha whined from her spot in Alice’s side. Alice had to sit on the couch cause Agatha wanted to be held. “Want momma..” Agatha whined as she tugged on Alice’s sleeves.

“She’s sick Aggie!” Jennifer huffed as she rolled her eyes putting her dolls down. Alice didn’t expect Jennifer to wake up that morning in her nine year old headspace but Alice loved when Jen actually regressed even if she was a spoiled princess. “Baby be nice to Aggie. She just little she doesn’t understand the full extent.” Alice said gentle as Jen rolled her eyes and went back to playing.

When Alice noticed it had been awfully quiet..and when Rio was regressed it was never this quiet. “Jen where’s Rio?” Alice had to give Agatha her teether and stand up. “Don’t know she said she going on adventure.” The regressor shrugged as she brushed her dolls hair.

Alice mental screamed as she pinched the bridge of her nose as she started looking around. She looked under the bed,in the cabinet when the little wasn’t in any of those places Alice seen the backdoor to the patio open. She stepped out as she seen Rio knelt at the stairs flipping over a rock. “Rio..bug you scared ma. Come inside.” Alice said gently.

Rio huffed as she stood up and Alice seen the gecko on her arm and spider on her shoulder. “But ma! I wanna do somthen! Momma is sick and I bored! And Jen don’t want my friends Inside!” Rio sat down on the edge of the stairs as she pulled her knees to her chest as she played with the green gecko on her arm. Alice sighed as she walked down the stairs and sat down next to her.

“I know you wanna take them inside bug. But remember they belong out here. With their mommas and little ones.” Alice said gently as she ruffled some of Rios hair. “What if we go inside and we draw momma a picture of your friends so she knows how much an adventure you are?” Alice bargained as Rio perked up and nodded.

“Yeah! I can draw! I very good at it ma!” Rio gently put the gecko down and slid the spider on the railing as she ran back inside. “I gonna draw for momma!” Rio announced as she ran towards the arts and crafts box on the cabinet. Jen immediately looked up and put her doll down “I wanna draw to!” She abonded her dolls as she went next to Rio.

Alice came in and slid back beside Agatha as she pulled her back on her lap. “Rio. Jen’s gentle with each other.Rio marker out the mouth bug.” Alice said as she felt Agatha start to tug on her sleeve Alice looked down as Agatha babbled to her. “You wanna do something for momma to don’t you sweet girl?” Agatha nodded as Alice thanked whatever gods that she worked out and used to carry around her mom’s music equipment when she was younger. As she picked the little up.

While it was slightly awkward because of Agatha’s height compared to Alice. Alice made it happen as she carried her to the kitchen and set her in a chair. “Let’s make momma a snack hm?”

When the soup was done and Rio and Jen both ran up to Alice with their pictures drawn Alice decided it was time to take it to Lilia. They walked down the hall Agatha nuzzled in Alice’s neck and Jen and Rio slightly pushing eachother through the hall. When they made it to Lilia’s room Alice looked at them softly “Ok kiddos. Remember momma is feeling icky so be quiet and gentle with her ok?” As they all nodded Alice opened the door.

“Special delivery for a special lady?” Alice smiled softly at her sick lover. Lilia sat herself up in bed face slightly flushed and a look of fatigue on her face. “Well hello there darlings. Haven’t seen you all day.” Lilia held her hands out for Agatha but Alice was slighly hesitant and Lilia saw it. “It’s ok luv I can handle it.” When Alice gave Agatha to Lilia the little immediately curled in her arms. Lilia smiled softly “Well hello there bambina.” Agatha babbled up at Lilia.

“Momma look! I drew you my spider friend! And-and a gecko! I met them outside!” Rio exclaimed as she climbed up onto the bed before Alice could even warn her. Lilia smiled as she smoothed out rios hair “Look at my little explorer they’re beautiful luv.”

Jen stood to the side and huffed as she looked away and Lilia caught it and patted the free spot on her right. “There’s my big girl. Come show momma that pretty card on your hand.” Jen looked over slighly and slowly climbed into the bed as she handed the card. Lilia smiled as she took the card with pink sparkles and the best hand writing regressed Jen could do that read “Love you momma get better.” Lilia kissed Jen’s forehead as a silent thank you knowing Jen gets flustered easily in this state.

When Lilia seen Alice still standing next to the dresser and the gray headed woman seen the slighky twitch of her hand and the way her eyes ran over the littles and Lilia herself. “Come on little one..momma needs all her little loves. Especially my biggest helper today.” Lilia’s tone was so gentle and loving it immediately talked Alice into letting the last of her big self drop and nuzzle between her legs.

Lilia smiled as she felt them all lying around her. All her little ones around her make her feel better already.

#sfw agere #agatha all along #sfw littlespace #poly coven #agatha harkness #alice wu gulliver #agere caregiver #jennifer kale #lilia calderu #rio vidal #caregiver alice wu #caregiver lilia #little jennifer kale #little agatha harkness #little rio vidal #little aaa #sfw age regression #fandom agere

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paxaz535 · 6 hours ago

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The Space Between Us (1)

paige bueckers x black!oc

synopsis :

Best friends since childhood, Kamiya and Paige always thought their bond was unbreakable. But when they reunite at the family cabin after years apart, the line between friendship and something more begins to blur. As the tension between them builds, they must face what they’ve always known deep down: they’ve been more than close all along.

(this contains smut [in next chapter] !)

—————

Kamiya and Paige had always been close—ever since they were five years old, playing together in the sandbox in Paige’s backyard.

Their fathers, Bob (Paige’s dad) and Jonathan (Kamiya’s dad), had been best friends since high school. They bonded over their shared love of basketball and had been inseparable ever since.

That love for the game carried on to Paige, who practically grew up with a ball in her hands. Kamiya, not so much. She was always more into volleyball than anything else. Bob and Jonathan tried getting her into basketball, but it just never stuck.

Still, Jonathan supported his daughter through it all—especially after Kamiya’s mom walked out on them one random Thursday night.

Ever since that night, things had changed. Kamiya didn’t talk about her mom much—not because she didn’t care, but because she had learned not to expect answers. Jonathan picked up the pieces the best he could, and Paige’s family helped fill in the gaps.

Sleepovers became more frequent. Paige’s step mom would braid Kamiya’s hair and pack her snacks for school when Jonathan had to work late. To Kamiya, the Bueckers’ house started to feel like a second home.

By the time middle school came around, Kamiya and Paige were more like sisters than friends. They did everything together—sat next to each other in every class, FaceTimed every night even when they had just seen each other, and had inside jokes that nobody else understood.

People used to say they were attached at the hip. And for a long time, they were.

But then high school happened.

At first, not much changed. They still walked to school together, still sat next to each other at lunch, still sent each other outfit pics every morning to coordinate. But little things started to creep in—new friends, different classes, separate teams.

Paige made varsity basketball her freshman year. It was a big deal. Suddenly, she was surrounded by older teammates, practices every afternoon, and the buzz of school recognition. Kamiya was proud of her—she really was—but it stung a little to see less of her.

Kamiya had joined the volleyball team, and while she loved it, it didn’t get nearly as much attention. Her games were barely half full, and no one was writing about her in the school newsletter. Paige always said, “You’re killing it out there,” but sometimes it felt like she was just being nice.

They were still close. Still best friends. But there were moments—between texts left on read, and the “sorry I can’t, I have practice”—where Kamiya wondered if Paige was outgrowing her.

And then came the real test: boys.

Or at least, that’s what everyone thought. Paige had never really shown much interest. Sure, she’d play along when the other girls gushed about whoever was “so fine” in third period, but Kamiya always noticed how quiet she got when the conversation got too deep.

Kamiya, on the other hand, was trying to figure it all out. She’d dated a guy in freshman year for about two weeks—Derrick, from biology—but it felt more like checking a box than actually liking someone. She laughed at his jokes, let him hold her hand in the hallway, but when he kissed her outside the gym after practice, all she could think was, Is that it?

Meanwhile, Paige seemed perfectly content not dating at all. When Kamiya brought it up once—just teasing, like: “So, when are you finally gonna get yourself a boyfriend?”—Paige had only shrugged, looking away.

“I don’t really like boys like that.”

Kamiya had blinked, caught off guard. “Oh.” She tried to play it cool, but her mind spun.

She’d never thought about it before. Not really. But that night, lying in bed, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not about Paige specifically—at least, not yet—but about how she’d felt when this girl from the volleyball team had called her pretty the other day. How her stomach flipped in a way it never did with Derrick.

Something was shifting.

And even though Kamiya didn’t have the words for it yet, a small part of her—buried deep and quiet—was starting to stir.

It started with the little things.

The way Paige would laugh so hard she’d throw her head back, eyes squeezed shut. The way she always remembered to bring Kamiya extra sour gummy worms on game days, even though she hated the smell of them. The way she always seemed to know when something was off, even when Kamiya hadn’t said a word.

One Friday night, they were at Paige’s house watching a movie. It was some cheesy rom-com they’d seen a million times, but Paige insisted it was tradition. They sat close—closer than usual—legs tangled under the blanket they always shared.

Halfway through the movie, Paige fell asleep. Her head rested on Kamiya’s shoulder, her breathing soft and even. Kamiya didn’t move. She just sat there, completely still, heart thudding in her chest.

She looked down at Paige, her face relaxed in sleep, and for the first time, she realized something terrifying.

She didn’t just love Paige.

She liked her.

Not in a best friend kind of way. Not in the way everyone joked about when they called them “a married couple.”

In the way that made her heart ache a little. In the way that made her scared to say it out loud.

She stared at the TV, not really seeing it anymore. Her throat felt tight.

Because what if this was just her?

What if Paige didn’t feel the same way?

What if it ruined everything?

Kamiya gently leaned her head on Paige’s, trying to quiet the storm in her chest.

She didn’t have the answers yet.

But she knew one thing for sure:

Something had changed.

The next morning, Kamiya acted like nothing had happened.

She cracked jokes, scrolled through TikTok with Paige like usual, and even teased her for drooling in her sleep. But inside, she was spiraling.

She kept replaying the night in her head—the weight of Paige’s head on her shoulder, the soft warmth of her breath, the way her heart had nearly exploded just sitting there.

And it only got worse from there.

At school, Paige was all smiles, greeting people in the hallway, dapping up her teammates, laughing with that same effortless energy that made everyone gravitate toward her. But Kamiya couldn’t stop watching her. Couldn’t stop feeling everything.

It was torture.

Especially when Paige hugged her from behind in the cafeteria like she always did—only now Kamiya felt her entire body freeze. Her brain screamed, Act normal.

She didn’t.

Paige noticed. “You good?” she asked later, brows furrowed as they sat outside during free period.

“Yeah,” Kamiya lied, eyes on her water bottle. “Just tired.”

Paige nudged her. “You’ve been weird all day.”

Kamiya shrugged. “You’re weird every day. Guess it’s contagious.”

Paige rolled her eyes, laughing. But her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The thing was, Kamiya didn’t know how to say what she was feeling. Didn’t know how to ask Paige if maybe—just maybe—there was something there between them too.

Because if she was wrong, it could ruin everything.

And for the first time in years, she felt like the distance between them was growing—and she didn’t know how to close it.

It happened at a party.

One of Paige’s teammates—Jas—was throwing a huge end-of-season thing. Kamiya didn’t even want to go, but Paige had begged her to come. “Please? Just for a little bit. I’ll even buy you your weird kombucha.”

So she went. Regretted it the second they walked in.

The music was loud. The lights were dim. And Paige? She lit up the second they walked through the door, dapping up her team, laughing, moving through the room like she belonged there.

Then there was her.

Nia. A sophomore who played soccer and looked like she belonged in a Nike ad. She and Paige had a class together—or so Kamiya had heard.

She watched from across the room as Nia leaned in, too close, whispering something into Paige’s ear. Paige laughed, hand brushing Nia’s arm.

Kamiya looked away fast, pretending not to care. Pretending she didn’t feel like someone had lit a match in her chest.

“I’m getting some air,” she mumbled to no one in particular, slipping out the back door.

She stayed out there for a while, letting the cold bite at her skin. Letting herself breathe.

Paige came out eventually, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Kamiya said, a little too fast. “Just needed some space.”

Paige nodded, but didn’t push. That almost made it worse.

“I got accepted!” Kamiya screamed, practically launching off the couch as the email loaded on her phone.

Jonathan, Bob, Paige, Drew, and Moe all erupted into cheers from around the living room. Jonathan pulled her into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground, his face split into the proudest grin she’d ever seen.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered. “Knew you had it in you.”

Paige was the next to hug her—tight, warm, familiar.

“I told you!” Paige beamed. “I knew they’d want you.”

Kamiya laughed, still in shock. “Guess I’m college material now, huh?”

Paige nudged her. “You’ve always been.”

Kamiya’s acceptance came just a day after Paige found out she was headed to UConn on a partial basketball scholarship. Everyone had celebrated her news too—Jonathan and Bob had cracked open a bottle of champagne, and Moe had baked cupcakes with “UConn” spelled out in blue frosting.

Kamiya had been genuinely happy for her. Paige was going to a school that fit her. She’d be playing the sport she loved, living in a place where she could finally shine. It was perfect.

But there was a part of Kamiya—a quiet, insecure part—that wondered what it would mean for them.

They wouldn’t be at the same school. They wouldn’t walk the same hallways or eat lunch under the same tree anymore. It wouldn’t be FaceTime at midnight after a bad practice—it’d be maybe catching each other’s texts between classes or team meetings.

And what made it worse was… they still hadn’t talked about that night. The party. The way Kamiya had walked off. The way Paige had looked at her, confused, maybe even hurt.

So Kamiya smiled and celebrated like nothing was bothering her.

But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something precious was slipping through her fingers.

Kamiya’s three years of college had been everything she hoped for. She made new friends, joined a cultural org that felt like family, traveled for tournaments with her volleyball team, and even landed a sweet internship sophomore year. She was proud of the woman she was becoming—confident, steady, doing things for her.

But this time of year always pulled her back.

It was May now. Finals were almost over. Her junior year was closing out, and soon she’d be stepping into her final year of undergrad. A part of her was thrilled—excited for what was ahead. But another part, quieter and heavier, kept tugging her back to something… someone.

Paige.

She hadn’t seen her in person since last summer. She’d heard about the injury—a torn ligament, maybe? Something that benched her for most of the season. Kamiya found out through Instagram before she heard it from Paige directly. That stung a little.

They still texted sometimes. Liked each other’s posts. Sent the occasional meme. But it wasn’t like before. Not even close.

And maybe that was okay. People grow apart.

But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

What haunted Kamiya most wasn’t the distance. It was the fact that she never told Paige how she felt. Not really. Not in a way that counted.

She could’ve said it a hundred times. At that party. Before they left for college. At the lake last summer by the fire, when Paige looked at her like she knew.

But she hadn’t. And now, she didn’t know if that window had already closed.

Still… something about this summer felt different.

It was just a feeling—an ache in her gut, a whisper in the back of her mind—but Kamiya knew.

Something was going to happen.

She just didn’t know if it would heal her…

Or break her completely.

Kamiya sat on the edge of her bed, her suitcase open but barely touched. Clothes were piled on the floor around her—sweatshirts she might need if it got chilly, the swimsuit Paige once joked she looked hot in, and an old T-shirt Paige had left behind years ago that Kamiya never returned.

She stared at it now, fingers brushing over the faded cotton.

There were a thousand things she wished she could say. She wanted to tell Paige she missed her. That she was proud of her. That the distance hadn’t changed how she felt—not really.

But those words had stayed stuck in her throat for three years.

Now she was going to see her again.

And it scared her.

Not just because of what she might feel—but because of what she might not feel. What if too much time had passed? What if Paige didn’t even think about her like that anymore—if she ever did?

Still, she packed the shirt. Just in case.

The driveway crunched under the tires as she pulled up, late afternoon sun dripping through the trees. Her chest was tight.

As she stepped out, the smell of pine and lake water hit her like a memory. She heard voices from the porch—laughter, low conversation, the familiar warmth of family that hadn’t changed.

Then she saw her.

Paige.

Sitting on the porch steps, wearing an oversized hoodie, her joggers hanging low on her waist. Her hair was longer now, tied in a messy bun. But her smile—when she looked up and saw Kamiya—was still the same.

Kamiya froze for half a second, unsure what to do with everything crashing through her.

Then Paige stood—slowly, carefully—and walked over.

“Three years and you still pack like you’re moving across the country,” she teased, eyeing Kamiya’s giant duffel.

Kamiya grinned, nerves tangled in her chest. “Some things never change.”

Paige’s eyes held hers for just a moment longer than they needed to. “Some things do.”

Kamiya’s heart skipped.

The words weren’t loud.

But the meaning behind them?

Louder than ever.

Kamiya was woken up by a huge splash of water. She shot up, gasping as the freezing cold soaked through her shirt and bonnet.

Laughter and hurried footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Go! G—go!”

She didn’t need to see them to know who it was—Drew and Paige.

Kamiya sat there for a moment, stunned, water dripping down her face. She knew they didn’t mean any harm by it—but come on. Waking her up with water? When she hadn’t asked to get wet? It pissed her off.

She jumped up with a loud scream, startling Bob and Jonathan, who were casually watching a random Lakers game on the living room couch.

Her bonnet clung to her head, soaked through. Her hair—freshly washed the night before—was completely drenched again.

“Paige! Drew!” she yelled, stomping down the stairs.

The two culprits were lounging on the couch chairs, feigning innocence.

“Why are you screaming?” Jonathan asked, turning his head, clearly confused.

“They poured water on me!” Kamiya snapped.

Paige and Drew exchanged a look. “No we didn’t—” Drew started.

“Don’t lie to me, Drew,” Kamiya cut in sharply.

That’s when she realized what she was wearing.

She looked down and groaned. The white sleep shirt she had on was now see-through, clinging to her like a second skin. Her red bra was very visible, and the soaked fabric hugged her curves like a compression top.

Moe was the first to notice, letting out a soft giggle as she covered her mouth. “Sweetie, you might want to go change.”

Kamiya closed her eyes and sighed, this whole morning already going to shit.

Paige looked up at her—and instantly turned pink.

Her eyes darted away too quickly, like she’d seen too much and wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“Moe, you possibly couldn’t have brought weave.. could you?” Moe, already knowing just laughed.

“I have it, sweetie. We can start on your braids when you get changed.”

Kamiya didn’t say another word. She just spun around and stormed back upstairs, muttering curses under her breath.

Upstairs in one of the spare bedrooms, Kamiya sat cross-legged on a stool while Moe stood behind her, parting her hair with practiced fingers.

The soft pull of the comb, the gentle tap of Moe’s rings brushing her scalp—it all slowly started to calm her down.

“I swear,” Kamiya muttered, wincing as Moe gripped a stubborn section, “they think they’re so funny.”

“They’re just trying to get under your skin,” Moe said, amused. “That means they missed you.”

Kamiya rolled her eyes, even though a tiny part of her knew Moe was probably right. Still—water?

As Moe started the first braid, the smell of bacon and toast drifted up through the cracked bedroom door. Kamiya’s stomach growled on instinct.

Moe smirked. “Smells like guilt.”

Downstairs, Paige flipped another pancake, trying to act cool while internally panicking. “Is this too much syrup?” she asked, holding the bottle over a plate.

Drew looked at her, unimpressed. “You’ve poured it like five times already.”

“I just—she’s mad, Drew.”

“She should be! You soaked her like she was in a car wash,” he said, smacking her hand away from the syrup. “Just focus on the eggs.”

“I’m trying, okay?” Paige muttered, cheeks still flushed.

Back upstairs, Moe’s fingers moved quickly through Kamiya’s hair.

“You know,” she said gently, “there’s always a moment during braids where you gotta sit still and let yourself breathe. Might as well use the time to figure out what’s really bothering you.”

Kamiya didn’t respond at first. She stared out the window, watching the lake shimmer in the distance.

“I’m just tired,” she finally said. “And maybe… a little annoyed she looked at me like that.”

Moe raised a brow. “Like what?”

Kamiya hesitated, then sighed. “Like she saw something she wasn’t ready to see.”

Moe smiled to herself, fingers still moving. “Or maybe she saw something she’s just now realizing she likes seeing.”

Downstairs, Paige carefully placed a plate with pancakes, eggs, and turkey bacon on a tray. Drew added a glass of orange juice.

“She’s gonna throw this at us,” he whispered.

“She won’t,” Paige said, unsure.

They started up the stairs, holding the tray like it was a peace offering made of gold.

Upstairs, Kamiya sat quietly while Moe worked through her hair, parting and braiding each section with care. The gentle pull of the comb and the quiet hum of Moe’s voice were grounding—but her mind was still spinning.

She wasn’t even that mad anymore. Just… embarrassed. Caught off guard.

The soft creak of the door broke the silence.

“Uh… Kamiya?” Paige’s voice came gently, almost unsure.

Kamiya glanced over her shoulder. Paige stood in the doorway holding a tray, and Drew lingered behind her, both of them looking a little too nervous for comfort.

“We made you breakfast,” Paige said, her tone lighter now. “Kind of an apology-slash-peace-offering.”

Drew held up a mug like it was a trophy. “And coffee.”

Kamiya looked at them for a second, then at the tray. Pancakes, eggs, turkey bacon. Her stomach growled at the sight—and Paige heard it, a flicker of a smile pulling at her lips.

Moe gave Kamiya’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Smells good. You should eat before I finish the back.”

Kamiya exhaled, her walls softening. “I wasn’t that mad,” she said quietly, eyes shifting between them. “Just… surprised. I had just washed my hair.”

Paige nodded, her face full of guilt. “I know. I didn’t think it through. I’m sorry, Kami.”

Drew nodded too. “Same here. It was supposed to be funny, but we messed up.”

Kamiya gave a small shrug and glanced at the tray. “You didn’t have to do all this,” she mumbled, reaching slowly for the fork.

“We wanted to,” Paige said, her voice soft. “Especially me.”

Their eyes met—just for a second. It held longer than either expected.

Kamiya looked away first, trying to hide the tiny smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, okay,” she said, finally taking a bite. “This is good.”

Paige visibly relaxed, laughing a little. “Thank God. I was one burnt pancake away from giving up.”

Moe chuckled behind them. “And that’s why I stay in my lane.”

Kamiya giggled softly, chewing her food, her mood lighter now. “You’re lucky this is good,” she said, pointing her fork at Drew and Paige. “Next time y’all do something dumb, I’m pouring water back.”

“Fair,” Drew said with a grin.

Paige smiled. But hers lingered a bit longer, watching Kamiya with something more in her eyes. Something gentle. Unspoken.

And for once, Kamiya didn’t look away too fast.

The sun had started to dip behind the trees, casting a golden hue across the lake. The water shimmered, rippling softly from the occasional breeze. It was peaceful—so much calmer than the chaos of this morning.

Kamiya sat on the dock with her feet dangling just above the surface, her braids freshly done and pulled back in a loose ponytail. She hugged her knees to her chest, letting the quiet settle around her.

Footsteps approached, slow and unsure.

She didn’t need to look up to know it was Paige.

“You mind if I sit?” Paige asked softly.

Kamiya shrugged. “It’s your dock too.”

Paige eased down beside her, careful not to get too close. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Just the sound of birds in the distance, water lapping against the wood, and the hush of trees swaying in the wind.

“I really am sorry,” Paige said eventually, her voice low. “Not just about the water. About… everything.”

Kamiya turned to look at her. “What do you mean, everything?”

“I mean… I know we’ve drifted. And I didn’t try hard enough to stop it. I thought maybe I was giving you space, but maybe I was just scared you didn’t want to be that close anymore.”

Kamiya blinked, caught off guard by the honesty.

“I never wanted to not be close,” she said. “But we were growing up. I figured you were just busy. And I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You could never bother me,” Paige said quickly, her eyes locking with Kamiya’s. “Never.”

The air grew still for a moment. Their gazes held, longer this time. Kamiya’s chest tightened, heart starting to beat a little faster.

“I missed you,” Kamiya admitted, the words barely a whisper.

Paige swallowed. “I missed you too.”

There was something hanging in the air between them now—something unspoken but deeply felt.

Paige hesitated, then added, “Earlier… when your shirt was—uh, see-through…” She trailed off, cheeks already turning pink. “It wasn’t just the water that threw me off.”

Kamiya blinked. Her heart jumped.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Paige paused, searching for the right words. “I’ve always liked girls. You know that. But with you… I didn’t let myself think about it. Not really. Until today.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy—it was electric.

Kamiya looked out over the lake again, exhaling slowly. “I don’t know what I like yet,” she said honestly. “But when you looked at me like that… it didn’t feel wrong.”

Paige turned toward her, eyes searching hers. “It didn’t?”

Kamiya shook her head. “No. It felt… different. But not wrong.”

A smile tugged at Paige’s lips. “So… maybe this summer’s gonna be different.”

Kamiya finally smiled too, soft but real. “Maybe it will.”

And for a moment, they just sat there—side by side—letting the possibility hang between them, warm and bright like the sunset behind the trees.

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #this is what makes us girls #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fic

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