#eyebrows are ALWAYS doing 90% of the work

[rin-may-1103]

Biggest Regret. (Part Two)

Previous | Master Post | Next

Bruce had finally found a peaceful moment to sit down and go through his work emails; there were no sibling homicide fights, prank wars, and thankfully no vigilante-related headaches.

Just a peaceful afternoon; normal polluted Gotham skies, the usual city ruckus of honking horns and shouting, and the constant footsteps back and forth past his closed office door.

taking a sip from his old mug, Bruce opened his laptop. Quickly typing in his password for the hour, he made his way to his email. surprisingly, less than 90 emails were waiting for him. Usually, he had hundreds to go through.

hmmm. Another check for this being a suspiciously good day then, it just made him more anxious for when the other shoe would fall.

peaceful for Gotham, for him, never meant anything good. It always happened right before a tragic event or large-scale Arkham breakout. he could hope for it to just be a peaceful day, but he knew wishful thinking was useless.

taking another sip, Bruce started scrolling through his emails, reading the subject lines to sort through which ones were more important. After a few minutes of reading, Bruce stopped and reread the second to last email's title, his eyebrows furrowing:

A Video From Your Son.

Now, Bruce was truly confused; Why would one of his kids email him? let alone through his public work email? They've been told multiple times to email him through the bat-email if it contains anything important or time-sensitive. Heck, they've been told to just text him it if it was important, he always answers a text faster than an email.

His Bruce Wayne email was notoriously ignored for multiple days; mostly for his cover story, but also because he spends most of his time doing Batman stuff. (Reading Wayne Enterprises emails usually wasn't something at the top of his list, the kids know this.)

so, then why would one of them email him?

hmm. maybe? maybe one of the boys set up a long-term prank or something. They know how long it takes for him to read his emails, so maybe they sent it knowing it would take a while, which means they had plenty of time to set something up.

yes, that's it. it makes total sense.

Clicking on the email, he was greeted with a boy (who looked a lot like Damian, but who most certainly wasn't) sitting gravely on a wooden box in some dark warehouse.

sitting up straight, Bruce set his mug down and studied the paused video. the boy looked so much like Damian that Bruce almost wanted to believe he was a clone. but his bright stern blue eyes and and apparent freckles pushed the idea away.

Yes, clones can have imperfections, especially when made in a rush, but never something as drastic as the wrong eye color or a genetic quality the one being cloned didn't have. Unless, the one making the clone had no idea what they were doing, but Bruce doubted Talia would have allowed someone to take Damian's DNA before he was given to Bruce.

and the boy on screen had scars, lots of scars, meaning if he was a clone then he was made before Bruce even knew of Damian.

hmm.

there were no clues provided in the kid's surroundings; the warehouse was surprisingly empty of anything important or telling. the kid had even chosen a spot where Bruce couldn't tell if it was day or night, or if the lights were on. which took away the usual ways of figuring out where the boy was.

No sky meant he couldn't calculate the general area based on season and celestial bodies. And because he couldn't tell if the light was from industrial lighting or daylight, he couldn't cross out warehouses with electricity. The kid was smart. smarter than the average citizen at least.

he was also wearing discreet clothing; which meant Bruce couldn't trace him through that either.

leaning forward so he could rest his elbows on his knees, Bruce pressed play and gave the video his full attention.

The boy on screen sat in silence for a moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts. his hands rested in his lap, his poster rather relaxed as he sat on his wooden crate.

"This is video eight." the boy spoke, his voice rough with sleepless nights and yelling. Did he yell at people often? or had he gotten into a fight previously? there were seven other videos, but this was the first one Bruce saw. he'd have to go back and see if he had somehow missed them.

"don't worry, you didn't miss anything." the boy chuckled humorously, running one of his hands through his hair. Bruce noted that it shook, the kid was probably nervous, or hungry. the kid looked too skinny to be healthy...

"no, this is just the eighth time I've had to record this." the boy continued, dropping his hand back into his lap as he slumped forward, his black hair falling into his face.

"this video," he continued, not glancing up, "is for Bruce Wayne's eyes only."

there were still no visual tells on where the boy was, not even audio cues for Bruce to study. frowning, Bruce rested his head on his hands, taking in everything the boy said.

"Hi Dad," Bruce sucked in a breath, tensing up as the kid finally glanced back at the camera.

"I'm Danny. you likely don't know I exist, and if you're receiving this; I'm already dead." he chuckled like the thought of his death was laughable. "well, more dead than I already was." he snorted, shaking his head in a way that reminded Bruce of Damian when he was exasperated or disappointed.

"Maybe it's cruel of me to send you a message post-mortem," Danny, the kid's name is Danny, looked away. He rubbed his neck awkwardly as he continued, "But you deserve the truth, and telling you earlier would've put you in danger."

Danny let out a breath as he pulled his legs up onto the crate, "this email is set to automatically send if I haven't opened my laptop for three days. I sometimes set it longer if I'm expecting trouble or going to be away for a while, but I've most likely been away from home for a bit over three days if you're receiving this."

Danny looked so tired as he looked back at the camera, the dark bags under his eyes worse than even Tim's after a week-long investigation.

"I don't know who killed me. Obviously, I'm recording this in advance... I have my suspicions though. it was most likely either the GIW or my adoptive parents, the Fentons." Danny reached beside him and held up a two pictures, "This is Maddie and Jack Fenton, and this," another picture, "is some GIW agents."

Danny snorted as he glanced at the GIW agents, their startled faces slightly blurry as Danny stood in front of them and took a selfie. bruce wasn't sure if he was amused or not that the kid took a selfie with his potential murderers but then again, Bruce could see all of his children doing it too. (Bruce could also see himself doing it.)

"i half-died at 14," Danny suddenly added, tossing the pictures to the side. "became the local ghost superhero..."

he stared off to the side for a moment, "but they never realized I was trying to help and kept talking about tearing ghost me apart molecule by molecule." Danny glanced back at the camera before his eyes widened, "my parents! I mean, my parents and the GIW wanted to tear me apart, not the town! though they probably wouldn't have disagreed with it if asked..."

"anyway," Danny shook his head, "my money's on that being what happened..." Danny looked down at his hands like he was seeing them for the first time, "there will be nothing left of me to bury..."

"Sorry about that!" he suddenly added, a bright smile on his face. Bruce could tell it was strained, forced in hopes of not upsetting him.

"you'd probably have to cremate me if there was, it'd be a waste of wood to get me a coffin... though I'd really prefer if I wasn't set on fire," Danny chuckled, trying to hide a full-body shiver.

He sat in silence for a moment before Danny continued, "The rest of the story is this: I was raised in an assassin cult, eventually escaping at the age of nine. they sent me on a mission and I just had to take the opportunity. I successfully faked my death."

Danny sat up now, fully focusing on the camera, "My biggest regret is that I escaped alone. And that's the reason I'm reaching out to you."

Danny let his feet fall off the edge as he grabbed something from next to him, keeping it out of view for now. "you're a civilian," Danny stated like it was a fact he knew to be true.

Bruce clenched his jaw, trying to keep himself still so he could focus on what Danny was telling him. he wished he could reach through the screen and hold the boy, whether he was his son or not, he obviously was talking about the league which meant Talia hadn't told him.

Talia hadn't told him, and if he was anything like Damian, then he would have no reason to believe otherwise.

"If you know too much about the League of Assassins you'll be in danger, but I need you to save my twin Damian." Danny's words were like a final nail in the coffin, the final straw to keeping his heart from breaking again.

it was true, it had to be. How would Danny have this information otherwise?

"he's likely still there after all these years. he never wanted to escape; he took pride in being the heir to the league. he's probably going to be stabby: he's an assassin after all, but it's not his fault. Ra's, our grandfather, indoctrinated him a lot more successfully than he did me. Damian was more susceptible to it... it's not his fault." Danny repeated, clenching the object he had grabbed.

"Please," Danny pleaded, "save him. I'm begging you. My biggest regret is leaving Damian in the league. You have a chance to save him. Please, please take it."

Danny bit his lip and glanced down at his lap, "I w-," he quickly glanced around before shaking his head, "I long for a time when it would have been safe for me to get to know you. You seem like a cool dad, from what I've seen of you on the news with your oldest kids."

he looked up with a water smile, "I bet you're like that with the youngest you hide from the public too. I still don't know how you managed that, it's been six years." Danny chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"This is my, um, my old league sigil." Danny held up the object he had been holding, revealing a golden disk with thick rope connected to it. it had the demon head's symbol on it.

"A coat of arms. I'll leave it somewhere for you. hopefully, you can use it to get to Damian." Danny gently placed it back on the box. "I'm keeping it in a box in the walls of my room. You should be able to find it."

"I wish you and your family the best," Danny sniffed, looking back at the camera. "thank you for listening. From your long lost almost certainly dead by now son, Danny Fenton."

Bruce stared at the paused video for a minute, just trying to process everything he just saw. he needed confirmation, he knew it was true, it had to be, there's no way Danny could fake this. but Bruce needed to confirm. make sure he isn't seeing things.

absently, Bruce pulled out his phone and dialed his youngest's, was he still the youngest? or was Danny? number.

the tone didn't even ring longer than five seconds before his son's voice echoed into the silent office, "Father."

"Damian, did you have a twin named Danny?" Bruce asked, not cutting around the bush.

dead silence, he couldn't even hear Damian's breath.

then, "...Who told you?"

Damian's voice wasn't angry or fearful, it was sad and confused and wavered like the last leaf on a tree clinking on for dear life in a blizzard. it cemented the break in Bruce's heart as he stared at the tearful face of his son, his son who claimed to be dead already.

hanging up, Bruce quickly sent the video to Damian and waited. he needed a minute to process what just happened. Clicking play, Bruce rewatched the video, hoping to find another clue.

Damian called back a few minutes later, the sound of Danny's voice echoing in the background telling Bruce his son had watched and rewatched the video just like he had.

"Father. I do not care what state he is in, even if there is only a single molecule left. I'm going to bring him home. We must discover exactly what happened to Danny, the truth."

"I couldn't agree more, Damian," Bruce grunted, standing up. Pushing his chair in, he turned his laptop off and made his way to his office door. "I'll be home soon, gather the others. tell them all hands on deck."

"yes, Father," Robin replied, hanging up not even a second later.

Shoving his phone in his pocket and opening his office door, Batman started making his way home.

Next

[heesdreamer]

Anything

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ Four years after he disappeared from your life your childhood friend and love returns back to town completely changed.

WARNINGS ➩ Heeseung is an addict and not a super amazing person, broken people with bad communication skills, rough smut, like quick hate sex basically. Super angst but I hope it’s still a good read lol… based in the late 90s early 2000s

WC ➩ 11k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ A bit nervous to be posting here again after five months since I’m pretty rusty but hopefully you’ll take it easy on me lol. No part two for this and it’s an open ending (my favorite) so infer what you’d like but feel free to ask me anything about the story or the characters! Hope it’s okay and I missed you guys. NOT PROOFREAD

Summer was pretty much the constant season where you grew up outside of the few weeks the sun disappeared and the rain turned the beaches grey.

You appreciated the break every year considering it just made the heat coming back feel ten times better, that first day being able to run into the ocean again always feeling like your towns personal version of new year.

Let the salt water wash away your sins and the tears that had long dried on your sun kissed cheeks.

Your town had been spared from tourist for most of your childhood even though it’s definitely gained traction during more recent years if the alarming amount of people outside the local diners said anything.

The locals didn’t mind as long as they cleaned up their empty bottles of sunscreen from the public beaches and didn’t interfere with the abundance of native wild life.

You definitely didn’t mind considering you were on your sixth year working at the smoothie shop just a block away from the most popular beach and you enjoyed suckering large families out of large tips by giving them basic fun facts about the area they could use for their vacation.

It was the least you could do as somebody who lived in a permanent one.

This years version of those rainy few weeks came in the suddenly deliverance of news you’d never even imagined hearing let alone prepared yourself to deal with.

“Hey.” Jake sounded out of breath as he crashed through the flimsy door of the smoothie shop, hair wet from either just leaving the beach where he worked as a lifeguard or from the slight drizzle that had started to pick up.

“Hey, don’t get my floor wet. Assuming you’re off this week?” You were folding cleaning rags in preparation for closing up the shop for the next few days due to the news channel continuously warning the locals of a storm coming.

Jake rolled his eyes at your light scolding but you noticed that he did avoid sitting on the stools or touching anything he could get his wetness on.

“Oh so it’s your floor now?” He was cocking an eyebrow up as he looked at you and now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a light smile on your face at the teasing.

You’d know Jake the same amount of time you had known pretty much anybody living in the town which was basically the entire sum of your life. All the kids went to the same small school district and everyone’s parents knew each other to some capacity so there’d never been a time you didn’t know him and your other friends.

“So…” Your extensive knowledge of him made it even more obvious that he was about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear, his tone changing to the same one he used whenever he had to let the beach goers know the waters weren’t safe. “He’s back in town.”

The mood in the small shop changed immediately and you tensed up from where you were still folding the rags, placing the one you were working on back down onto the counter and squeezing it with your hand.

You noticed the rain picking up outside and it was almost ironic how it seemed to match your mood.

“Oh.” That was all you could manage to say and Jake dropped his shoulders in defeat at your dull reaction. “No Jakey thanks for telling me that’s.. it’s nice to have a heads up.”

Neither one of you spoke for a few seconds and you let the sound of the wind whipping around the thin metal panels of the roof distract you just enough to stop you from immediately bombarding him with questions. You didn’t need him to know how much you cared even though you knew he already did.

“Did- did you see him?”

“Saw his mom at the market on my lunch break.” He was watching you so intensely that it was starting to annoy you. He looked like he was waiting for you to explode and you were considering giving him what he wanted just so he’d stop staring like that. “They’re like.. well he’s back in the old house so I’m assuming that means… yeah.”

He was awkward in his delivery but you understood exactly what he meant, your old friend wasn’t just back in town for a vacation or a trip down memory lane but instead he was back for at least the near future.

Your head hung low as you tried your best to not react outwardly but the humorless scoff left your mouth before you could stop it and you heard Jake sigh near the door.

Luck was at least in your favor considering the news was right and the rain didn’t stop for another four days meaning you and the boys didn’t have work and there was no chance of you running into the exact person you wanted to avoid.

You spent your days at Sunghoon’s house which was on the other side of town from where you and the rest of your friends lived.

Sunghoon had been the last person to join your small group and he almost hadn’t been accepted considering he didn’t go to the same school and actually didn’t live there at all. His father was beyond wealthy and owned a nice property up on the hill, a place you and your friends used to sit on the beach and stare at while daydreaming about living there.

He came down every winter from the city so him and his dad could escape the cold and icy roads and then he’d leave again once the temperature picked up.

Naturally this made him a bit of an outcast compared to the rest of you who grew up together and spent nearly every single day hanging out and playing on the beaches but you liked him nonetheless.

He wasn’t as spoiled as you figured he probably could have been and if anything he was actually pretty sheepish whenever someone mentioned how much money he constantly had at his disposal.

You’d all tease him until he bought you snacks and ice cream in bulk just to get you off his back, a silent peace offering.

An even more silent ‘I’m sorry you’re poor and I’m not’.

Once you all got older and his dad got too tired to continue the travel back and forth just to avoid some snow, Sunghoon would come by himself just to see you all and you imagined it was any day now before he decided to stay for good.

The image from their hillside property was breathtaking even through the storm, floor to ceiling windows that you’d perch yourself on while the others slept. It had a perfect view of the biggest beach and the mountains behind it and despite growing up with it as your backdrop, you never got used to it.

“Can’t sleep?” Riki’s voice was echoing through the nearly empty living room, a feat of Sunghoon’s dad practically moving out.

You turned your head to see him shuffling towards you in his pajamas with an open bottle of wine in his hands. He was taking a swig before nudging your leg with his hand so you would move it and he could sit down beside you with a groan.

His back was against the other side of the windowsill and your legs were crossing over his in a mirror image but he looked just as exhausted as you figured you did and it was sort of comforting to know you weren’t the only one handling this bad.

“When do I ever sleep?” Your hand was sticking out as you spoke and he took one more sip of the wine before handing the bottle over to you.

Your face pulled into a grimace at the sour taste and he laughed softly at the reaction before leaning forward to snatch it back and keep it away from you. You looked back out the window but you could feel him staring at you now and you sighed.

Riki had been around just as long as Jake had but he was also your neighbor which added another layer of familiarity. There was no hiding your family issues with him like you attempted with the others because he was one window away and often the person you ran to when things got too hard.

“Saw him in town you know, before we headed up here.” He was starting off in a whisper like he was testing the waters and you were getting sick of people treating you like a loose canon when it came to this. “He looks different.”

“Obviously. He was a kid last time we saw him and he’s what, 20 now?” You phrased it like you weren’t too sure but both of you were aware that you knew his exact age. You’d never forgotten his birthday and your mood soured every year on that day for the past four times it cycled past.

“21.” Riki clarified anyways and you appreciated that you both pretended you’d be able to make that mistake. “And I don’t just mean he grew up I mean he looks terrible.”

Your stomach turned uncomfortably as graphic images made their way into your mind and you squeezed your eyes tight at the thought of him and what he could possibly look like now.

“Why are you telling me this Riki?” You sounded hurt and lost and you felt his leg nudging yours again like he was either trying to comfort you or snap you out of the tense state you’d fallen into. You opened your eyes and stared at him and the way the moonlight highlighted the side of his face.

“I told him I’d meet him for lunch once the storm cleared up.” He said it slowly and that made it that much easier for you to hear the overwhelming guilt in his voice. “I’d like for you to be there. I’m asking you to be there.”

Your face fell flat but he didn’t stop looking at you as he dropped the bomb and you almost wanted to shy away from the intense gaze just waiting for you to show that you cared.

“You can’t ask me that.” It came out as a whisper and you hated how weak you sounded at just the idea of seeing him.

“But I am.”

—

Two days later the clouds were gone like they’d never been there and the unrelenting heat was building back up at full force. You all returned down from the hillside property with raging hangovers and a suffocating promise.

You tried to ignore your phone ringing on the wall because you knew who it was, or at least could guess out of three names but it was pointless considering Riki was right next door and the ringing soon turned to knocks at your window.

So you told yourself you agreed to the lunch because you were sick of being harassed about it and it was not because you needed to see him for yourself.

If anything this was your chance to prove you didn’t care about him and you just had never felt that level of loss before. It wouldn’t kill you to hear his voice and listen to the way it’s changed over the lost time and you’d be able to get through the meal with a few awkward conversations before getting to go back to your regular life.

You were immediately proven wrong the second you pushed into the restaurant and you would have stopped in your tracks if it wasn’t for Riki’s guiding hand on your lower back.

He worked at this restaurant and it was directly on the shore of the beach so despite it being busy post storm he was easily maneuvering you through it towards the table.

You stayed back a few feet as the boy stood up and went to greet your other friends, a few awkward seconds passing like they didn’t know wether to shake hands or hug before Jake was moving forward and pulling the older boy into a tight embrace.

Sunghoon was doing the same and rubbing the back of his head comfortably before Riki gave him a familiar pat on the shoulder due to the fact they’d already gone through the first encounter nerves.

The three boys immediately climbed into the booth and started to flip through the menus to give you some privacy even though you all knew they’d eaten the same things here since they were kids and knew every dish like the back of their hand.

You still appreciated the gesture considering the second he looked at you your heart clenched painfully and you suddenly felt like you were 17 again.

“Hey y/n.” His voice was low as he spoke but you could still hear it enough to notice you barely recognized it. It had dropped a few octaves and it was painfully raspy.

“You look like shit Hee.” Your blunt words and the use of the familiar nickname made him scoff out a laugh and he nodded his head in agreement to your insult.

He truly did even though you were just trying to tease him and loosen the atmosphere. He was ten shades paler than the rest of you but you had a feeling it wasn’t due to him not being around the sun all the time anymore. He looked nearly sickly and your stomach turned the more you saw the signs of that being true.

His eyes looked tired and sad but what was the worst change was how skinny he was. He’d always been thin but now he was towering over you and still looking like a strong wave could take him out.

He sniffed uncomfortably because of your intense gaze and your eyes honed in on his prominent wrist bone and the way he flicked at his nostril.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the action and he immediately lowered his arm like he’d just been caught doing something, confirming your belief.

The silence was awkward but luckily one of Riki’s coworkers was approaching to get your drinks and you scooted past the tall boy so you could slide in the booth besides Sunghoon.

It was unusual for you to be nearly silent and not engaging in the conversation but you couldn’t really handle trying to fumble your way through acting like everything was normal like the others were.

You started to wonder if they really did think it was just a normal meal while catching up with a childhood friend.

It blew your mind to consider that maybe they didn’t see the way Heeseung was constantly bouncing his knee and picking apart his napkin or the fact he’d barely taken a bite of food the entire time. Did they not see his fidgeting eyes and the fact he looked sick every glance he took towards your direction.

The boys did their best to fill the silence without bringing up anything that would let Heeseung know how much he’d missed out on and soon enough everyone was having to go back to work.

You’d gotten the day off since the storm had drastically killed off the tourist that make up 90% of your daily customers and you could tell the boy across from you felt a bit lost when everyone stated their plans for the rest of the day.

“Did you maybe want to go to the beach with me?” You had no idea why you were inviting him but by the time you noticed the shocked look on your friends faces, it was too late and the offer was hanging heavily in the air.

He looked around like he wasn’t quite sure you were talking to him and his eyes were a little more alert when he finally turned back to face you.

“Uh yeah sure.”

Riki gave you a cautious look as you left and Sunghoon parted you with a swift kiss on the cheek and another firm hug for Heeseung. Jake was heading to the same place as you for his shift as a lifeguard so it made the walk down the street a little less awkward.

The roles reversed from lunch and now it was Heeseung’s turn to fall silent while you and Jake softly joked and made casual commentary on the damage the storm had did. You would have forgotten he was there at all if not for his constantly sniffling and the fact his presence shifted your entire atmosphere.

“Be safe yeah?” You weren’t sure if it was meant to have a double meaning but Jake made your stomach turn as he left your side to head to the watch tower.

Heeseung was clearing his throat beside you but you ignored him in favor of finding an umbrella to sit near, not quite under so you could still feel the sun on your skin. He opted for sitting directly under the shade and you were brought back to when you were kids and he was always the last one inside.

He was impossible to tame and get out of the water even long after the sun set and the parents began to call you all home but he couldn’t be more different now.

Memories of his freckled tan face smiling at you, eyes squinted against the bright sky with his hand above his eyebrows to try and block it so he could see you better. His laugh always the loudest sound over the crashing waves and the way it felt when he’d wrap his arms around you to throw you into the water.

Now he was practically curling in on himself to avoid the rays and he looked almost pained at the sounds of the kids playing and splashing around.

It was hard to believe this was the same boy who had you convinced there was salt water in his veins.

“Since when are you getting high?”

You didn’t sound at all accusatory in your question, just plainly asking for an answer to the obvious but he immediately tensed up and sent a glare that would have you believing you’d gotten it wrong if it wasn’t for the embarrassment in his eyes.

He took a few seconds to answer but you extended your thin patience towards him and waited.

“I’m not anymore.” He had a funny tone to his that almost sounded like he was saying an inside joke, something you clearly didn’t understand and your face furrowed. “That’s why I’m here actually.”

Your mouth was parting in realization and you couldn’t help the bitter laugh that slipped out of you. You felt overwhelmingly stupid in that moment but it wasn’t necessarily your fault for not assuming the worst about his intentions.

“Here I thought you were back because you actually missed us. Didn’t realize this was your rehab.” He didn’t look amused anymore and you were struck by how much you wanted to see him smile at you again.

He nodded and looked away from you and that was enough for you to realize the conversation was over.

—

four years ago

You’d never been anywhere else but you had a hard time believing any other place could measure up to what you were experiencing now.

The sounds of your lifelong friends splashing each other and laughing as they took unexpected blows from the waves, bodies crashing through the surface of the water and pushing back through with groans of playful annoyance.

You knew the sun was setting soon which meant the head lifeguard (who happened to be jake’s older brother) was going to usher you all back home and away from the water but you would have given anything for the moment to freeze.

Even if your butt was damp from the wet sand you were sitting on and you were starting to shiver from the lack of clothes paired with the disappearing heat.

You watched as another head popped out of the water before standing to his full height and glancing around like he was searching for something. His gaze stopped on you and a bright smile broke out on his face at the sight of you sitting on the beach and observing the scene.

It made you feel warm to see him brush off your friends and push through the water so he could get over to you, shaking his head to semi dry his hair and laughing when you squealed at the sudden wetness hitting you.

“You cold?” He was flopping down onto the sand next to you and his cold skin brushed yours for a second before you flinched away and groaned.

“Yeah but I think Jaeyun’s brother is gonna make us leave any second anyways.” You were scrunching your nose up as you looked over at him and he smiled up at you.

Heeseung always seemed to be smiling but especially in your direction.

You weren’t an idiot and you didn’t at all miss the fact that he was extra attached to you. You had a deeper bond than anybody else in the group and even though you weren’t exactly sure when the transition into something deeper happened, you were sure you both could feel it constantly bubbling under the surface.

It wasn’t something you felt like you needed to confess or say out loud officially because you had all the time in the world here with him.

“Come swim with us.” He was watching you as your hand reached over to swipe the drying sand off his forehead.

“Not happening Hee sorry.” You smiled when he groaned and rolled over onto his back, knowing you had made up your mind by the tone in your voice. “We can always swim tomorrow.”

—

Tomorrow never came because the next morning you were racing down to the Lee house with a plate of cinnamon rolls Riki’s mom had made and finding it almost completely empty.

Your heart had dropped into your stomach but you still slowly approached the familiar door and knocked against it softly.

Typically you didn’t even bother knocking considering you were there more than your own house but something was off and you suddenly felt like an intruder.

The sight of his grandma opening the door and giving you a pained expression when she saw it was you almost fully killed you and if that didn’t do it then the fact she softly whispered to you that he wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon definitely did.

It was hard not to grab her by the shoulders and demand she tell you where he had gone and it was even harder to hold in your sobs as you ran all the way back to the house next to yours, bursting into Riki’s living room and climbing into his bed to cry while you waited for him to get off work.

He’d barely understood you through your blubbering sobs and when he did he was joining you in the bed and falling into a hurt silence.

The hurt rippled through you for months until you gathered the courage to ask his grandma for his address so you could write him a letter.

She was clearly reluctant but she gave it to you anyways and you spent all week writing it and expressing to him how you felt, both for him and about the fact he had left without saying goodbye. You wished she’d turned you down when it got sent right back unopened and the same thing happened for the next twenty after that.

You kept writing them for two years even though they’d always make their way back to the post office and at the end of that summer, you finally put the pen down.

At some point during the third year you’d gotten a postcard that had no writing on it or even a signature. It was just a blank card with a photo of some cartoonish cherry blossoms and a small river.

You somehow knew it was from him without any confirmation and you wept like a baby in the middle of all the mailboxes, hugging it to your chest and swearing you’d never let yourself feel like that again. You almost sent it back to him like he’d done to you for so long but instead you stuffed it under your pillow and tried to not feel it’s weight every night you slept.

Now four years later he was suddenly everywhere again.

He’d started to work at the surfboard rental shop across from your own place and he was practically at every single hangout like nothing had changed.

Except everything had changed and he was such a jarringly different person that you almost felt like you were hanging out with the corpse of your old friend.

“We’ve gotta get you some sun man.” Jake was disguising his concerns with some light teasing one of the days you all made your way up to Sunghoon’s place but you all knew Heeseung and his current state was the constant elephant in the room.

“Yeah.” His noncommittal low mumbling was about the most you got out of him these days and you sighed from where you were laying on the couch.

His empty gaze landed on you when you were standing up and pushing Sunghoon’s legs off of you (much to his annoyance). You approached him and stuck your hand out in his direction just to be met with a raised eyebrow and no movement.

“Cmon let’s go.” You were firm in your words and shaking your hand slightly to urge him to take it in his before you got too impatient. He sighed at you but did exactly that and you pushed aside the warmth that spread you in favor of pulling him up so he was standing.

You were slightly thrown off by how close he ended up next to you so you took a step back while raking over his tall frame and clearing your throat.

“I’m sick of your moping.” You didn’t expect him to continue holding your hand after you pulled him up but you took advantage of the opportunity and started to tug him behind you as you walked towards the doors.

Heeseung stayed silent as you dragged him outside and down the long sandy steps that led down the hillside and onto the small private beach that the park family owned. You never hung out there much as kids considering you weren’t allowed to surf here and you preferred the large waves and active community of the public one but it would do for now.

“What are we doing?” He was finally speaking once you dropped his hand and turned to look at him.

“Going swimming obviously.” You were pulling your shirt over your head the second you finished speaking so you just barely saw his reaction to your hands grabbing the bottom hem.

It was long enough that you managed to watch his eyes widen and drop down to the sudden skin showing but he somehow was able to have a blank expression again by the time you got it off and tossed it onto the sand carelessly.

You’d turned to walk closer to the water but you stopped and looked over your shoulder when you realized he wasn’t following you anymore.

“Cmon.” Your thumbs pushed down the hem of your shorts to showcase the rest of your bikini and now you heard him scoff a laugh as the water touched your ankles.

The water was unusually cold from the few cloudy days you’d had but you were determined now to get him to have some fun and open up a little bit before he really started to bum the rest of you out.

You fought your smile when you heard light splashing behind you and when you finally turned around you were thrown off by the amount of pale skin you were seeing. Obviously you knew he’d have to take off his shirt to get in the water but you were mainly stuck on the changes to his body.

He’d clearly filled out, something you could have guessed from the height, and now he looked surprisingly strong unlike his lanky frame he had when you were younger. Outfit of his ribs slightly showing, he definitely had some muscle definition that you looked away from immediately.

Your eyes landed on what was even more jarring and he surprisingly didn’t shy away when you scanned over the bruising covering his stomach and sides.

You met his gaze for just a second and he just stood there with the light ripples hitting his belly button.

“Get into some trouble?” Your question was light and almost teasing so he had room to ignore you. You didn’t want to bombard him for answers especially since it wasn’t really your place anymore.

If this had been four years ago, you would have wrapped him up in your arms and demanded to know who possibly could have hurt him but that boy wasn’t here anymore. He definitely wasn’t the cold one standing in front of you.

“Something like that.” His response was as uncharacteristic as you expected it to be and you simply nodded your head before waiting for him to catch up to you.

He was up to his chest now in the water and you were starting to struggle to stay afloat which seemed to amuse him if the quirk of his lips told you anything.

“Isn’t this nice?” Your voice was quieter now and you almost face palmed at how nervous and unnatural you sounded.

Heeseung was just watching you like you were the one who had changed but there was something heavy in his eyes now. You almost flinched at the feeling of his warm leg brushing yours under the water once he was finally starting to relax and float a little but you managed to collect yourself.

He hummed in agreement but you could tell he was just doing it to give you the answer he knew you wanted to hear.

You wondered if the cold water felt good on his bruises or if you were just making him feel worse by trying to help.

“Surprised you didn’t bring the others.” He was talking again surprisingly and now he was fully floating on his back with his gaze set on the sky and the colors of the setting sun. “Since you and Sunghoon are so close now.”

The jealous tone of his voice was not something you were used to and you didn’t realize he could sound even less like himself until he proved you wrong.

Heeseung and you had always been each others number ones and he’d never had to doubt his position in your life before but it made you blood boiling mad that he had such an accusatory tone now like you’d done something wrong.

Did he expect you to sit around and mope forever, holding out hope that he’d maybe decide to return one day despite not even knowing where he’d gone?

“We’ve always been close Heeseung. We all are.” Your voice was stable despite how the opposite you felt and something unsaid was being heard loudly in your choice of words.

For the first time since he came back, you were blatantly excluding him from the group. None of you were teenagers anymore and you’d been through a decade of stories and experiences just in the last few years as you transitioned into adults.

Maybe the sight of him now, grown up and empty, wouldn’t have hurt so bad if you watched it happen slowly instead of all at once. Maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way at all and he would have been a totally different person with your influence.

You immediately felt guilty and gross for giving yourself that much credit.

“It’s different now though.” He seemed set in his idea that you and Sunghoon had some secret deeper bond and you didn’t even try to argue with him this time.

“You’re different.” The response you settled with was pretty petty and he seemed to agree judging by the way he scoffed but he was sitting up and moving a tad closer to you in the water.

“Yeah well you’re exactly the same.” He said it so simply that you couldn’t tell if it was meant to be an insult, compliment or simply just an observation. He was either calling you immature or making a callback to how your relationship used to be.

You figured it was the latter when his hand was brushing against your waist under the water.

“Not all of me.” Your voice had gotten lower now as you realized the mood was shifting to something you’d not experienced with him before.

You’d always found Heeseung attractive obviously but he was so young and you weren’t exactly the age either where you were thinking about him in this way. Sure, he’d been touchy back then with his hand in yours or an arm around your waist as you walked together but never with this look in his eye.

It felt wrong to have him shifting even closer to you, bare chest and his wet hair almost covering his eyes as he stared down due to your newfound height difference.

Mainly the wrong feeling came due to the fact that you barely knew him now and you didn’t want to get to know him like this. You wished it had happened naturally, your friendship had returned when he did and so did your comfortability and maybe eventually the love buried deep in your chest.

But you were so desperate to feel something from him, anything that might indicate he had once cared about you. So you didn’t push him away when he leaned down to kiss you.

His mouth was hot against yours and suddenly all of the teasing touches and heavy glances made a lot more sense.

He had a desperation you didn’t expect and your head was spinning by the time he was pulling you even closer by your waist and slotting his knee in between your legs under the water.

“Hee.” You breathed out his name as he licked into your mouth and he shushed you impatiently, not wanting to give you the chance to stop him before he’d even gotten to really have you.

You weren’t going to and your hips were rolling against his leg, the water hitting higher up on your stomach and making you gasp from the cold and how it splashed over your covered chest.

He seemed to notice considering he was impatiently pulling the fabric of your bikini top away from your skin and you moaned when his mouth was leaving yours in favor of hungrily connecting with your hard nipples. The warmth of his mouth made you spin and you held the back of his head against your chest.

His knee was rocking under you and you kept grinding yourself down on it, free hand wrapping around his back and feeling the muscles clench everytime he moved himself towards you.

“Hee.” you gasped out his name again and this time he atleast hummed in acknowledgement, big hands gripping your waist and forcing you to keep moving against him.

“Cmon y/n, stop fucking talking.” His mouth was back on yours and this time it was you who immediately licked into his closed lips, the sound of his low voice spurring you on even more.

He was lifting you out of the water and your legs wrapped around his waist so you wouldn’t fall. You didn’t even realize he’d be strong enough to lift you but he seemed to have no problem as he started walking towards the shore and you rolled your hips into his hard on that you could now feel pressing against you.

Your mouth parted when you felt how hard he was already and he laid you gently down onto the sand before climbing ontop of you and kissing you again.

This time his body was covering you and you whined when his hips lowered down on yours.

He was sitting up for only a second so he could finish untying your bathing suit and tugging it off of you and you watched as his eyes locked hungrily on your bare chest while you panted heavily.

Your eyes were big and wanting as you stared up at him and the sight was almost too much so he went back to kissing you deeply.

His body was still just as wet as yours and the feeling of his hot skin warming up what the water had cooled was almost as addicting as the way he rolled his hips down slowly.

“Fuck y/n.” He was groaning into your neck and you inhaled at the way he was biting the skin and definitely leaving marks on you. “Used to be mine remember?”

You were shaking your head in disagreement but the way you were rocking your hips and holding onto the back of his head was very telling, you might as well have had his name carved on you.

“Gonna make you mine again.”

Heeseung was pushing your bathing suit bottoms to the side and playing with the waistband of his before impatiently shoving them down onto his thighs. You were both hurt by his impatience and extremely turned on by the fact he was about to take you on the beach without even fully undressing you.

“Tell me you want it.” His tongue licked up to your ear and you gasped at the feeling of his thick head pressing against your wetness, your legs spreading automatically for him.

“Want it. Want it Hee.” You were breathing heavily and trying to fuck yourself down on him even though it was pointless considering how strong his grip on your waist was, pinning you down against the sand and feeling the way you arched up into him when he started to push himself inside.

The slide was easy and your cry was loud enough that you almost worried the other boys would be able to hear you.

“Fucking tight.” His voice was strained as he spat the words through gritted teeth and you clenched around him at the praise, wanting to make him feel as good as he was so easily doing to you. “Perfect pussy for me, sliding right in. So wet y/n.”

His constant use of your name made you feel even more insane and you whined louder when he bottomed out inside you. Heeseung didn’t waste any time before he was starting to roughly fuck into you and it was exactly what you needed after years of pent of anger and emotions.

“Fuck me hard Hee.” You begged him through your cries and he gladly delivered exactly what you needed, slamming his hips against yours so fast it was painful. “Fucking hate you.”

“Hate you so much.” His rebuttal was quick and he caught your mouth in a rough kiss as he spoke, teeth hitting yours making you wince in pain.

“Show me. Fuck me like you hate me.”

He was doing what you asked without any question and you almost broke from how much you could feel it radiating off of him, hate and anger stemming from something you didn’t even understand.

Then it was over before you even processed it started and you were both left panting on the sand as the sun finished setting and the sand underneath you dried.

Heeseung was rolling away from you to land on his back with a grunt and your entire body shivered when you felt his arm pressing against yours and giving you a little bit of warmth that barely made up for how cold you felt all over.

Everything surrounding you was cold now and him not saying a single world just made it ten times worse.

You were hit with shame and guilt tenfold and tears were springing to yours eyes before you could stop them. You vaguely heard him shifting next to you and sniffing loudly, your head turning to him.

Your eyes grew in size when you saw he’d dug something out of his discarded shirts pocket and was sitting up with his head turned away from you like it would make what he was doing any less obvious.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Your voice was low and venomous and your hands uncomfortably went to cover your chest as you sat up and scooted away from him. “You’re getting high?”

He didn’t even look over at you as he cleared his burning throat and shoved whatever the small capsule was back into his crumbled up shirt. The sight of him rolling his eyes like you were annoying him almost made you just sink into the ocean and disappear.

“Get dressed before they come down here and find you like that.” He was standing up as he spoke again and you hated that the tears were fully falling now, hot on your flushed cheeks.

Your shaking hands did their best to tie up your bikini top and he finally looked down at where you were still sitting on the sand and sobbing. You weren’t sure he could see the tears considering how dark it was now but when he turned his face away with a cold expression you knew that he had.

Heeseung was pulling his shift over his head and hesitating for just a few seconds while looking at the stairs back up to the house, almost like he was considering leaving you there.

“Who even are you?” You weren’t sure how you managed to speak so strongly through your cries but he clearly felt the impact of it as he tensed up and his jaw locked.

“Does it matter?”

——

After you’d gotten dressed you had stormed past him up the steps only after slamming your shoulder into his side and steeling your expression. He gave you a few seconds before he was following you up but he didn’t come inside when you got up there.

You’d gone up to Riki and quietly asked him if he could take you home, cold hands shaking as they gripped his wrist and eyes still swollen.

The other boys were silent when they saw the state of you and you just hoped they couldn’t guess what had happened, shame hitting you hard at even the idea of them finding out how you’d just been used and discarded so easily.

You sat there the entire car ride back to town with your head half out the window and the warm summer air doing it’s best to stop the tears from rolling down your face.

Riki didn’t ask you any questions and you were grateful when he pulled into his own driveway and not yours, not even realizing how much you didn’t want to go home until you saw your front door and felt the nausea building.

It was unspoken that he let you rot in the bed in the spare room for the first few days and by day three Jake was rubbing your back softly and trying to get you to eat something.

Sunghoon came and went constantly and you spent most nights with him laying beside you, not touching or speaking but just having him there. You weren’t sure if they’d figured it out or if Heeseung told them but something in you knew that they knew what happened.

You started to feel slightly better after a week of moping and letting yourself finally feel the heartbreak that’d be been building for so many years and after two weeks you were back to work.

If you spent more your shift looking out the window to try to get a glimpse of him in the shop across the street then that was your own personal secret.

He was still somebody you cared about as frustrating as that was but it still made you sick that you started to worry when you hadn’t seen him for a few weeks.

It had been almost a month since that night on the beach and you no longer could assume he was just avoiding you. The town was too small and you would have run into by now regardless if you wanted that or not so he’d either been completely isolating himself or he was gone again and you weren’t sure which one of those hurt you more.

“He’s still here.” Sunghoon’s voice was low next to your ear as you laid in his bed this time, giving Riki and his family a break even though he insisted they didn’t need or want one.

You still wanted to come up here with Sunghoon even though it was a bit hard considering what had happened last time but you figured it was hard for him to be in such a big house all by himself now that his dad wasn’t coming anymore.

“Did you talk to him?” You were rolling onto your stomach and looking at him with wide eyes and he sighed softly as he studied the hope on your face.

“Not really.” He was mumbling now and the pout your lips formed almost made him feel sick. “Just for a second. I was skating past his place.”

You were nodding in understanding but you felt weirdly settled that he hadn’t gone anywhere and he was seemingly here to stay despite how it always felt like he was trying his hardest to get away from you all. You should have get the times worse that he was around and you had a change to run into him sooner than later but you were an idiot at heart.

“He doesn’t deserve you being sad for him, you know that right?” Your hair was being pushed behind your ear by Sunghoon’s hand and you watched him as he stared.

He looked vulnerable and it made sense considering he was not the type of person to say things like that to anybody, especially not to you. Your heart hurt hearing it from somebody else but you gave a soft nod anyways despite not at all agreeing with what he was saying.

“I mean it. You’re like… the best thing any of us could even begin to imagine and he acts like you’re going to stay no matter how he treats you. He’s always been like that, you just didn’t want to see it.”

Your face fell as he kept talking and getting more and more upset. You’d had no idea he felt this way or even noticed things like that and you hated that you started to think about what Heeseung had insinuated before on the beach.

It made you feel overly warm to consider that Sunghoon might have some type of feelings towards you and yet here he was, laying in bed with you for days and comforting you after you let some asshole break your heart for the thousandth time.

“I’m not going to let him do that to me anymore Hoon.” You heard your voice as it came out and heard how obvious the lie was, knowing he did too when he was just blankly staring at you.

“You love him.” His response was curt but it hit you full force and you tried your best not to let any visible reaction show. “You chose him a long time ago.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about you choosing Heeseung over yourself and your own well-being or if he was once again saying what you think he might have been.

The guilt coursed through you when you were laying your head down on his chest and listening to how fast his heartbeat started to pulse but you couldn’t look at his honest face anymore and the conversation needed to end before it was all too much.

It was only building more when the next morning you were writing him a note letting him know you’d be back soon before hitching a ride back into town.

You spent the entire hour it took getting to Heeseung’s house both trying to gather the courage to go through with your idea and also trying to talk yourself out of it, reaching a peak of panic when you were knocking softly on his door.

He took a long time to open and just as you were about to turn around and leave, there he was.

Standing in the doorway that you’d seen him in close to a thousands times but looking so different that it felt brand new. He didn’t look surprised to see you on his porch and that made you feel even shittier.

“You okay?” He surprised you with the question and how genuine it sounded but you kept your face flat.

“Are you okay?” You emphasized the word and shifted uncomfortably in place until he was stepping aside and letting you in the small house. “The boys are worried about you.”

If he knew you were lying than he didn’t mention it and you took a second to glance around the living room.

Not much had changed about it besides the numerous boxes that were either still unpacked or in the process of being put back away. You didn’t want to ask him and when you met his eyes again you could tell he didn’t want to answer.

“Well I’m fine.” His answer finally came and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying not to say something.

He was such a mystery to you that it was genuinely started to get under your skin. He looked at you like you’d done something so terrible to him and you had absolutely no idea what was bothering him so much, especially since he was the one who had left you.

“You’re fine?” Your voice was flat and bitter and he nodded stiffly to which you scoffed and rubbed your face in annoyance. “So you don’t want to talk about it? You don’t think we should?”

“Go talk to Sunghoon if you want someone to talk emotions with.” His gaze was fiery on you and you almost flinched away from it like it really could have burned you.

You stared at him dumbfounded for a few breaths and the air in the living room was so tense you worried the walls would collapse from it. He actually looked slightly regretful after he said it which shocked you but it didn’t really matter since it was already in your head now.

Heeseung was taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair before looking at you one more time.

“I’ll get dressed and we can go.” You didn’t respond to him and your hurt stare was clearly making him uncomfortable. “Is that okay?”

You waited just a few more seconds before you were giving him a curt nod and covering your mouth from the shock of the entire conversation and whatever was happening between the two of you.

He was turning to walk down the hallway to his room but stopping midway and giving you a glance over his shoulder like he was making sure you hadn’t left.

Your shoulders lost all tension the second he was out of sight and you leaned against the wall to help hold you up, proud of yourself for not running out or embarrassingly tearing up again.

It was quiet for a long time and you didn’t even want to begin to imagine what was taking him so long to throw on a simple outfit but you’d begun to wander around the house while you waited, ending up in the kitchen.

“Oh y/n.”

The soft voice calling out for you had your head turning swiftly and your eyes widened when you saw his mom standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Ms Lee.” You sounded astonished and you hoped she wasn’t too offended by the fact you were standing in her house with your sandals still covered in sand. “I didn’t know you were home. I’m sorry to barge in.”

“Always such a sweet girl.” She waved her hands at you like you were ridiculous for apologizing for such a small thing and your heart warmed when she crossed the room to hold your face gently. “You’re friends with my son again? I’ll take that as a good sign.”

You smiled lightly and just nodded at her, not having the nerve to tell her you weren’t exactly friends and he definitely wasn’t doing as well as the hope in her voice led you to believe she thought he was.

“You were always so good for him. He worried so much about you never forgiving him for leaving but you must understand it wasn’t his fault.” Her hands were warm on your face and you felt a lot of guilt as she spoke.

You weren’t exactly sure you were supposed to be hearing this so you didn’t ask her any questions or pry.

Heeseung must’ve heard his moms voice because he looked flustered by the time he came out of his room, barely pulling his shirt over his head as he crossed into the kitchen and looked between the two of you.

“Ma, what are you doing back?” His voice sounded overly similar to how it used to as he comfortably addressed her and the difference shocked you.

“Don’t make me sound like such a bother.” She was lightly scolding him before letting go of your face and you immediately missed the warmth of her hands and gaze. “I was just telling y/n how happy I am you two are together again.”

Your eyes widened at the same time his did and your face flushed bright red at the implication that she thought you and Heeseung were dating now, along with how she apparently had thought you’d been dating beforehand too.

“Oh relax you two. I just mean together as in the same space.” She laughed and waved her hands in dismissal again but you definitely didn’t relax. “Where is he taking you?”

It took you a few seconds to realize she was addressing you and your mouth parted in silence, fumbling for an answer since you didn’t actually know where he was planning for the two of you to go.

“It’s a surprise Ma.” His voice was gentle and so was the kiss he laid on the side of her head, her eyes shutting happily as he kissed her teeth and rubbed him on his shoulder. “But we’ve gotta get going.”

She was shooing you away without another word and giving you a heavy glance that you didn’t really understand, following behind Heeseung as he led you out back through the side entrance that came out onto their driveway.

“Oh holy shit. You still have this thing?” You were curling your nose up at the sight of the old beat up pickup truck that his grandpa used to drive you all around in.

You always got the luxury of sitting on one of the other two seats inside since you were the only girl but all the boys had a blast everytime they had to pile into the bed and feel the wind drying them off as you drove home from the beaches and waterfalls.

Heeseung’s grandpa had died when you were about twelve and the truck sat in the driveway for many years until his grandma was giving him the keys for his 16th birthday, a wink and a swift warning before sending him off to pick you all up.

“I still remember you outside my house blaring on the horn.” You were smiling to yourself as you went around the front so you could climb into the passenger side, feeling the rough leather.

He was getting in a second after you and you tried your best to stare as he situated himself and cleared his throat before putting the truck into drive.

Your gaze on him made him glance your way as he was backing out but it barely lasted a blink before he was looking away.

You waited an hour before you were speaking again, spending the entire time with the windows down and the sound of the loud wind filling up whatever silence the old radio left. It was playing some tape his grandpa had left behind and his hands were tapping the steering wheel in time with it.

It felt the most like your old times with him than anything else had so far and you had to remind yourself that things were still different.

You may have taken this drive with him a dozen times but things had changed. His hand wasn’t on your knee drawing shapes and your eyes weren’t bright and filled with love as you laughed and yelled over the music together.

That picture was a lot warmer than what reality was and you glanced over at him again.

The mountains were stretching behind his side profile now that you were farther away from town than you usually went and he looked so relaxed and calm that you almost felt bad for ruining the silence.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going anytime soon?” You were turning your body so your back was against the car door and your legs were curled into the middle seat, a few inches from the side of his thigh.

He didn’t answer you right away and you scoffed in annoyance at his audacity to just ignore you straight to your face like he hadn’t been the one to invite you here. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked away from him in upset but he was pulling onto the side of the road and parking the car before you could get really mad.

You sat there for a few seconds while he gripped the steering wheel and you took the time to glance around the area.

It was a long dirt road with a lot of thick trees and bushy areas, no other cars or parking lots in site. You were beyond confused and if it was anyone else with you then you’d even feel a little scared but despite Heeseung feeling like a stranger, he wasn’t one.

“Are you okay with walking a bit?” His voice was low when he finally spoke and you noticed he sounded similar to how he did while talking to his mom earlier, your heart tugging at how casual he was being towards you after weeks of hearing him sound so angry and empty.

“Y-yeah.” Your eyes widened at the sudden question and you felt embarrassed for stuttering even though he didn’t seem to care considering he was nodding and getting out of the truck. “Not a problem.” You mumbled to yourself before following him.

He was disappearing into the tree line and you would have been more confused if you didn’t see the faintest evidence of an old trail that had clearly been overgrown.

Heeseung was confident in his steps and every turn he took seemed like it was practiced so you quickly gathered that he knew exactly where he was and you wondered when he would have come out here enough to be this knowledgeable about it.

You were together pretty much all the time as kids and as far as you knew he hadn’t gone anywhere since coming back to town so his mystery was just growing even more to you.

You’d been walking for about twenty minutes with just the sounds of snapping sticks and the wind rustling the trees before it was opening up to reveal a small waterfall and a pond amongst the trees.

The bank was completely made up of rocks and fallen tree logs, something completely different than the sandy shores you were used to. You could tell right away this wasn’t a place for swimming but you just kept following him as he hopped onto the large boulders before eventually sitting on one.

You watched the side of his face as you waited for him to explain and he just watched the view with a slightly pained expression.

“Can you… can you not look at me.” His first words hit you hard and you flinched at the rough tone he’d taken on again. “Please it just will make this easier.”

Although confused, you nodded and opted for instead staring at the way your feet were dangling over the open water. Your thighs were burning from the rough edge of the boulder and the height you were sat at was slightly intimidating but you willed yourself to not look at him no matter how much you wanted to.

“I came here the day that I left. Stole the truck and ran out of the house even though my mom was practically tripping over herself in the driveway trying to get me to stop. I think she thought if I went I wouldn’t come back.” He took a break for you to process what he was telling you and the last sentence hit you hard.

You knew he loved his mom and hearing about her fear and what actually went down the day they moved away was almost too much and you considered asking him to stop talking.

Instead you clenched your hand onto the cold boulders surface and waited for him to keep going.

“It was a world of things that don’t matter anymore, never fucking matter but I need you to understand how much I regret it.” You could feel him looking at you now.

“I should have said goodbye to you and I should’ve answered your letters but I knew I’d come back the second I heard a single word from you and I couldn’t leave her alone. She needed me and I figured you’d be okay with the others. You’d hate me but you’d be okay.”

His voice was getting shakier and you couldn’t resist looking at him anymore although he didn’t look upset that you had done so, his hand stretching the distance between you so he could grip your hand that was practically clawing at the stone.

You squeezed his warm hand tight in yours as you sniffled and the tears built up quickly when you saw how nervous he looked.

“And I’m so fucking sorry for what I did to you at Sunghoon’s.” He grit his teeth as he said it like it pained him to remember and your stomach turned uncomfortably, almost feeling sick at the memory of how shut off he had been now. Especially comparing it to the way he was looking at you now. “I was angry at myself and took it out on you. It was fucking disgusting.”

A sob hit you at that and you don’t know if him scooting closer made you feel better or worse but you leaned into him anyways and felt your heart calm at the way he wrapped his arms around you.

“Y/n I don’t regret it okay? Just the way that it happened but you know… I-I hope you know that I’ve always-“ He sighed and stopped talking like he couldn’t find the words and you wiped your face quickly.

You leaned away from him just enough to get a good look at his face and he looked panicked like he didn’t know how you were going to respond.

“You’re not high right now right?”

His face fell in hurt at your question before it was turning into understanding and guilty, the shake of his head not doing nearly enough to lessen your worries which he quickly seemed to notice because he was leaning closer and making sure you could see him when he spoke.

“I’m not high I promise you. I haven’t been since that night on the beach.” He sounded genuine and you would have believed him before but you didn’t know him now and he easily could’ve been lying to you. “How can I help you know that?”

The desperation in his question and expression made him look so much younger and another sob hit you as you started to see him for who he was.

Not some corpse like imposter who had moved back to town and taken the identity of your old friend and lover but just a lost and confused Heeseung who had clearly gone through something you didn’t understand yet.

So when you kissed him it wasn’t for any other reason this time, it wasn’t because you just wanted to feel that he was actually there or because you thought there was no other way to be close to him again but it was because you wanted him to know that you believed him and you were patient.

You’d been patient and you’d continue to be because Sunghoon had been right when he said you always loved Heeseung and you’d constantly choose him.

Something in you told you that this time he’d do his best to choose you too, his hands holding your face so gently and his thumbs swiping soothingly over your cheeks to rid you of the constant stream of tears despite his own wetting his face too.

You weren’t even really sure what you were crying for.

If it was for the pain he’d put you through or the pain he was dealing with himself. Maybe it was because of the lost time and the years you could’ve spent together or the relief at not having to experience his absence again, something beautiful in the way you were holding each other and sharing the grief of what could have been.

You could only hope that what will be would be worth every tear in the end.

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes Chapter 6

masterpost

“Have you experienced events that could be described as fatal?” Danny read from his notebook. Before Jason could answer he continued, “Do you know the name and species of all your progenitors? Have you ever wondered if you are-” 

Jason held a hand up to ask for silence. He was in the zone on a training module that Barbie had sent to the whole team. He was not going to get any more shit from fucking Tim and Stephanie about being an out of touch old man like Bruce who ran code directly from the 90s.

Danny cut himself off to wait. Without looking up, Jason could see some kind of bouncing movement that had to be Danny fidgeting. “You’re early,” Jason eventually said. He shut the program that he’d been running and then blinked his full attention over to his date. “It’s not- is it 5 already?” He blinked away the gumminess in his eyes and checked the time. 

Danny flushed a little green. His freckles glowed a little whiter in contrast. “No, it’s 4:30,” he admitted sheepishly. “I, uh, left work a little early.” He floated up and then abruptly over into a flip. Like an antsy mermaid. Jason leaned back and watched, fascinated by how easy movement looked on Danny. It was the way he’d used to see Dick, but now he knew how hard Dick’s easy mobility was earned.

“You don’t feel gravity at all, do you?” He confirmed, envious and charmed. 

“Uhh.. Can’t say that I do,” Danny admitted. He shrugged. “Not like this, anyway. I do in my human body, obviously.”

“Is that literally-” Jason cut himself off with a mortified flush. Holy shit. You can’t just ask someone if they have a magical transformation into their own corpse. Insensitive much?

Danny gave him a knowing look but gracefully ignored the question. “Anyway. Do you remember what I asked earlier?” He cocked his head to the side and full body wiggled. “I had Frostbite help me write them out. Undead health isn’t really my area, but he knows everything that’s ever been known, which is pretty cool.”

“Uh…” Jason thought back. “I told you when we were eating that I died once,” he reminded Danny with a raised eyebrow. “So that’s an easy yes.”

Danny shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t know how serious you were or if you were describing something extremely short term like needing afib or something longer term-”

“Dead, buried, in the ground for months,” Jason admitted. “Presumably rotted, but I came back to myself with living human physiology, if extremely damaged from what killed me.” It was really gross to think about. It was also impossible to totally avoid. There should have been no coming back from all the blood drying up and shit.

Danny stared at him with an open mouth for a few seconds. Long enough that Jason fidgeted, uncomfortable.

“That’s the most metal shit I’ve ever heard in my life,” Danny said reverentially. “That’s so nasty, man. You rotted? Does this make me more of a necrophiliac than you?”

Jason choked on his own spit.

Danny did another flip.

“My parents were definitely human,” Jason managed, voice strangled. Best to get this back on topic. “I know for sure. I’ve met them both.”

Danny blew a raspberry. “It’s not always obvious,” he pointed out 

“Anything that would show up on Batman’s DNA analysis can be ruled out,” Jason corrected himself. “And neither of them had any non-human capabilities. Died from things that a Tamaraean or Kryptonian would be able to get out of.” 

“...Oddly specific species mentions,” Danny said. A line formed between his brows. His toes touched down to earth and he crossed his arms. “You… I wasn’t thinking of that type of non-human.” He cleared his throat. “It’s just that, you touched Wolf.”

“And a Kryptonisn wouldn’t be able to?” Jason asked a bit dryly. He didn’t understand the logic.

“Not unless they were really juicy with death,” Danny said in a weirdly mellow tone for such a disgusting sentence.

Jason gagged a little. He couldn’t help it. Oh, christ. Yeah, bodies got wet and shit after a while, but characterizing that as juicy? That was out of line.

“Not like- not like that!” Danny fluttered his hands at Jason, torn between horror and cackling. “I don’t mean like, dead and rotting. I mean dead and reanimated with ectoplasm. Souped with the sweet nectar of the afterlife. Wolf is a ghost, man.” He snickered.

“Wolf is a ghost,” Jason repeated.

Danny frowned. “Wolf,” he said. “Not Wolf.”

“What?” They sounded the same.

“You’re saying it wrong,” Danny said, saying the name the exact same way that Jason had been. “It’s Wolf, not Wolf.”

Jason stared at him warily. “...Spell it for me.”

“W-U-L-F,”  Danny rattled.

Ah. Ok. Jason took that onboard. “Wulf is a ghost,” he said again. “And therefore I ought not be able to touch him. I can touch you.”

“Like this? For sure.” Danny went through his flashbang light-show and shook out his newly black hair. “I’m a physical being. In my ghost form, I can consciously let you touch me. But Wulf was actively in the Ghost Zone when you hit him. You put your hand into the Ghost Zone and smacked him. The living have ghostly properties in the Ghost Zone. He’s tangible there but you should have been intangible.”

“...Maybe I’m a ghost?” Jason posited, cocking his head slightly as he said it. Danny was the expert. “I never found any answer for why I just woke up in my grave one day.”

“You just woke up?” Danny repeated, delighted. He put his hands on his face, breathed into them heavily, and then ran both hands through his hair. “That’s sick. That’s fucking sick, man. Did you have to dig yourself out like a zombie?”

…Did Danny think this was like, hot, and not disturbing? “Tore off my fingernails on the coffin splinters,” Jason confirmed, fascinated with what a little freak this guy was. Danny’s pupil dilated at the words. Jason could almost have been offended because that shit was traumatic, but hey. 

If he really thought about it. It was sick as fuck.

“I think yes, by the way,” Jason decided. He waited for Danny to give him a questioning look  before he elaborated. “You’re a monsterfucker, my guy. I’m attracted to you, but not because you’re dead. Whereas you’re clearly into the fact that I’m a dead guy.” 

Danny opened his mouth. He shut it. He put a hand over his mouth. “Huh,” he said. “Huh.” His brow furrowed. “If I said it was scientific curiosity and that passion for death runs in my family- no, I hear it.” He flapped a hand at Jason to cut off the laugh he couldn’t stop. “Hush. Okay. Fine.” He stood up a little straighter. “I’m a necrophiliac and I’m proud.”

A window banged shut in the kitchen and there was a clatter as someone’s shitty little brother fell into the sink.

“...Hi, Duke!” Danny called.

Jason put his hand over his face.

“Hi, Danny!” Duke called back, voice choked. “Good to hear from you, man.”

“You can’t fucking be here!” Jason said between his fingers. “I have plans, you shitty Zebra mussel.”

Danny looked at him.

“...What?” Duke asked. He came into the room to frown at Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes. “New Zealand mud snail.” They still didn’t get it. “Spotted lantern fly.” 

Blank stares.

“Fucksake,” said Jason. “I’m calling you an invasive species.”

Danny laughed. Duke made a loud pffft sound and unlocked his phone. He held it up and showed them the screen. “Would the New Zealand zebra lantern fly have this?” He triumphantly brandished his phone screen, which was a screenshot of his chat with Jason where he’d confirmed that he had permission to come over.

“New Zealand zebra lantern fly,” Jason repeated, vexed as fuck. “You know damn well-”

“It checks out, boss,” Danny reported, leaning back from Duke’s phone. “Looks like he’s allowed in. Let ‘im use your TV while we go out.”

“Yeah, let me use your TV while you go on a date,” Duke echoed, clearly enjoying this a lot.

“...I’ll get my coat,” Jason said sullenly. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

“We’ll bring you back dinner,” Danny told Duke.

Jason stalked away into his bedroom, wondering when he’d lost the plot to his own life.

[kinardgo]

I saw a post a while ago about Tommy and Buck running into Buck's exes, but I'd be interested in them running into Tommy's exes (boyfriend and/or girlfriends)

i spent such a long time fleshing out an OC for this tiny little oneshot but i could not get this out of my head gfhdhsjjdf.

EDIT: okay this isn't tiny and maybe i got over excited.

bucktommy / rated t / prompt requests still open

-

"Tommy?"

Chim stops mid-sentence, hands still up in a gesture, and his mouth is a little open as he looks over Buck's shoulder, behind him. Hen and Eddie seem similarly afflicted. Confused, Buck turns around, and-

Woah.

Buck's not unfamiliar with attractive people - he works in an environment with a lot of hot, athletic people, who do insane, heroic things, and since discovering that he's playing equal time for both teams, the pool of people that are nice to look at has grown considerably. That's a given. But... woah.

Green. Very green eyes.

"Dan! Oh, shit, how long has it been?" Tommy grins, getting up quickly enough that his chair scrapes against the concrete.

Hen and Chimney are doing their freaky psychic parademic mind melding communication thing, which mostly involves a lot of eyebrow movement and head tilting, and Eddie is glancing from Dan to Buck like he's nervous. This was supposed to be a chill little brunch, a catch up between friends. It's nice, being able to bring his partner to brunch like this, the same way Hen brings Karen and Chim brings Maddie. He never brought Ali, or Taylor, or any of his girlfriends. For reasons he could never quite pinpoint, he never wanted to let his worlds collide like that.

But Tommy is already part of his world. He's got inside jokes with Chim and Hen that Buck still doesn't quite get. He brings his own stories about the job, and he can laugh at everyone elses without getting maudlin and worried the way any of Buck's exes would. Tommy is as much a part of Buck's world as Buck is of his.

Except, Tommy's world apparantly has other things in it. Like Dan. Dan with the very green eyes, and the black hair swept carelessly back off his face like he thinks he's a 90's movie star, a little grey peppered at his temples and a t-shirt that has to be at least two sizes too small. Dan with his arm around Tommy's shoulder, and a 1000 watt smile dangerously close to Tommy's mouth, like he's not 100% committed to pulling out of this extremely long hug.

"What are you doing in California? You miss the sunshine?" Tommy asks, his hand still very noticably on Dan's hip.

"Don't even say that, those Oregon winters are no joke," he huffs, "Nah, I'm down for my sister's wedding."

"Emily's getting married? What the hell, she was barely out of college last time I checked."

"Yeah, Tommy, that was six years ago," he laughs, "All grown up now, marrying some IT geek from San Diego. Don't know what he did to deserve her, but my balls have been well and truly threatened if I give him anymore shit."

They chat for another few minutes, completely oblivious to the audience they have, oblivious to the way that Buck's hands are clenching into fists under the table. Tommy's usually so poised, straight-backed, almost stoic. Even his humour is deadpan, but Buck relishes the moments where he can tease easy smiles and full body laughs and dorky jokes out of him. Dan and his pretty eyes seem to have that down pat, too.

"Uh, I feel like I've crashed a party here, Tom."

Tommy blinks, looking back over at their table.

"Shit, sorry," he says, "I should have said. These are the good folks of the 118 firehouse. You probably know Hen and Howie by reputation, and this is Karen and Maddie," Tommy indicates each of them in turn, and they give a wave, "That's Eddie, and this is my boyfriend, Evan."

He says is so casually, like it costs him nothing, and it drags a smile out him the way it always does. Boyfriend. Buck stands, offering a hand. There are still half-cresent marks on his palm from where he'd dug his nails in.

"Good to meet you, man."

"You too, Evan."

"Buck," he says reflexively, "People call me Buck."

"Sure," he says easily.

Tommy is staring at him, face unreadable, but he smiles anyway, polite, almost professional.

"This is Dan Archer, and he used to be the best damn EMT in California," he says, clapping him on the shoulder, "until he deserted us for the PFR."

"Portland, huh? That's a good department to work for, from what I hear," Hen grins, "You guys were trialling those new electric ambulances in 2019, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Dan laughs, "All green, baby. Not that it matters when you're pulling another hiker out the Cascades in mid-December, but for some reason no one wanted to put the funding into my caterpillar-tread gurneys idea."

Chim snorts, "Shit, that's a good one. We should start lobbying for that, Hen."

"Ain't that the truth," she mutters.

"I don't have that problem," Tommy says smugly. Dan punches him in the arm, "You wanna stick around? This place some amazing bruschetta."

The collective inhale the table takes is probably loud enough to hear across the street. Eddie puts his coffee down like he's worried he's going to have to do something that involves having both of his hands free, like restrain Buck.

"Nah, I'm just doing a coffee run, then I've got to get back to the pre-festivities festivities," Dan shrugs, apparantly oblivious, "And maybe buy a shotgun to clean somewhere in view of Samuel."

Tommy laughs, "Give 'em hell, Archer. And don't be a stranger."

"You neither, Kinard," he grins, "I'll take you up on that bruschetta before I head back North."

"You better."

Tommy sits back down, and puts a hand on Buck's thigh. Nothing salacious or suggestive, just the weight of his palm and the heat of his skin. Familiar. The group lapses back into the same kind of easy chatter that they had before. Maddie and Chim talking about something cute Jee had done last week. Hen recounts in detail the call out they got that ended with having to deep bleach the inside of the ambulance. Buck takes a hold of Tommy's wrist, feels his pulse against his fingers, a steady, paitent beat.

-

Tommy's mouth paints lines of heat against Buck's shoulders. He's on his stomach in Tommy's bed - their bed, really, with how often Buck is here these days - propped up on his elbows. There's a book open on the pillow in front of him, something he found on Tommy's bookshelf about the history of the American rail network. It's been open on the same page for the last ten minutes, Buck's eyes somewhere in the middle distance.

There's temptation here, in the form of Tommy's half naked body pressed up alongside his, the hand on his lower back, his mouth. But Buck's mind is going a mile a minute.

"Baby," Tommy murmers, lips pressed to the nape of his neck.

"How do you know him?"

Tommy stills, just a moment where he freezes, before he exhales.

"I don't know if I like you thinking about other men while I'm trying to seduce you."

"Well, he is a very handsome man," Buck mutters, before he can help himself.

Tommy snorts, "Seriously?"

"It's ridiculous," he grumbles, "He's a paramedic, not a model. What's he even-"

Tommy muffles his laughter into Buck's shoulder, his body shaking with it. It should irritate him, it should make him feel belittled and mocked, but the way Tommy curls over Buck's naked back, smudging kisses into his hair and muttering his name softens the blow.

"I'm being an idiot, aren't I?" he says flatly, and it just makes Tommy laugh harder.

"No, Evan, you're being jealous, and possessive, and very sweet," he says, indulgent. Tommy is always indulgent with him, and Buck aches with how much he doesn't deserve it, "I know there's no way for me to say this without it sounding sarcastic, but I really do think that you glaring daggers at my ex like you're thinking about burying him under a carpark is extremely attractive."

Buck huffs, "So, he is your ex."

"Yes, he's my ex," he says, trailing a finger down the dip of Buck's spine, "We dated for nearly a year, the first year I moved to Harbour. He was my first serious relationship after I came out."

Buck doesn't really know what to say to that. Tommy represents a whole lot of firsts to Buck. First kisses, first touches, first fucks. Not first ever, obviously, but a kind of first all their own. And maybe Buck is always going to be a too much, too fast kinda guy, but he can't imagine getting over that, getting over him. Not even after five, six years.

"It ended amiciably. He got the job offer from Portland. Captaincy. Dan's job is important to him, too important to pass it up. I understood that."

"Do you miss him?"

Tommy kisses his shoulder, "All the time. He's been a good friend to me over the years."

"Do you see him very often?"

"Handful of times, since he moved," Tommy smiles, curling his fingers into the hair at the back of Buck's neck, "Came down for Harris' retirement. Couple years ago, we met up while he visiting family. I went up to Portland last year, too."

"Oh?" Buck says, feigning indifference and probably missing it by a mile, "How was it?"

"It was great. Awesome city. Great hiking in the area, and the ceremony was beautiful."

"What ceremony?" Buck asks, jerking up.

"You would have cried," Tommy continues like he didn't even hear him, like he didn't almost just headbutted in Buck's eagerness tosit upright, "I bet you always cry at weddings, but you definitely would have cried at this one. I bawled like a baby."

Buck shoves at Tommy's chest playfully, and he bounces when his back hits the mattress, laughing again.

"What wedding?"

"Dan's wedding," Tommy grins, "to his husband, Jake. Who he loves very very much."

He groans, shoving his head into the pillow, but Tommy doesn'tlet him mope about it for very long. A strong pair of hands roll him flat onto his back, and Tommy wastes absolutely no time in covering his body with his own, pushing between his legs and kissing him halfway to stupid. Which doesn't bode well for Buck, who's pretty sure he was more than halfway there already.

"You're ridiculous," Tommy says fondly, pressing a kiss to Buck's cheek.

"I know," he sighs, "I'm sorry."

Tommy kisses him again, before propping himself upon his elbows, "We're gonna talk about this properly tomorrow, about you being this worried about me... leaving? Or being interested in other people? Whatever it is, okay? We're gonna talk about it, because I don't actually want you to be upset, Evan," he says softly, "but you don't need to apologise for being jealous. It's just an emotion."

"Not the best emotion on me, though," Buck sighs, "It's not even rational."

"Maybe," Tommy shrugs, "but I wasn't lying when I said I like it on you sometimes. I don't regret my relationship with Dan, so what's rational about me liking how much you wish you were the only one who has ever touched me?"

Tommy's got a talent for taking Buck's most ridiculous thoughts, his worst traits, the ugliest sides of him, and rearranging all the pieces so that they actually make sense. He's so steadying, like a hand on his back while he feels like he's constantly walking on a tightrope. All of it is like water off a duck's back to Tommy, even when it feels like Buck's about to drown in it.

"God, please just kiss me," Buck whispers, half because he wants to, he always wants to, and half because it minimises the risk of saying anything else stupid, like 'I hate your gorgeous hero of an ex just because he got to kiss you before I did', or 'I like myself better when I'm with you than I ever had before', or 'I love you', or 'please don't talk about weddings around me because I'm terrified of the images in my head right now and how good you look in a suit'.

"Yeah?" Tommy breathes, his mouth hovering just over Buck's, "You gonna be thinking about him again?"

"Thinking about who?" Buck mutters back, just to be a brat.

Tommy laughs, a gentle, soft little thing that's so, so fond, but he kisses him anyway.

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

The Party Planner

Matt Rempe x Reader

Summary: Trevor, Jack, and Luke learn they probably should knock before surprising people for their birthday…

Word Count: 2K

A/N: Gonna make this a series abt her being a lowk nepo baby

Y/N’s life had always revolved around hockey. As the daughter of a star defenseman from the ’90s, her childhood was filled with rink-side memories, locker room laughs, and endless conversations about the game. Her dad had gone to university with Ellen and even played on the Mens National Team when Ellen played for the womens. With that remaining close especially when she married Jim. They all remained close with him. Because of that, Y/N grew up with the Hughes brothers—Jack, Quinn, and Luke—feeling more like family than friends.

As she got older, Y/N’s life diverged from the rink. She found fame as an actress, rising through the ranks to become a household name in Hollywood. Still, no matter how bright the spotlight got, she stayed close to her roots. Her friendships with the Hughes brothers expanded to include other NHL players like Trevor Zegras and Cole Caufield. Whether it was hanging out in the off-season or cheering them on from the stands, she was the unofficial sibling of hockey’s rising stars.

But her personal life was a little more complicated.

For the past few months, Y/N had been dating Matt Rempe, a towering enforcer with a reputation for physical play and an even bigger temper. The hockey world knew him as the guy who spent more time in the penalty box than on the ice. His aggressive playing style and frequent fights had earned him a demotion to the AHL—a fact her father and friends couldn’t overlook.

“Are you sure about him?” her dad had asked more than once, skepticism clear in his voice.

Even Jack, Luke, and Trevor had their doubts. “I mean, he’s a good guy, right?” Jack had said cautiously. “But, uh…maybe not your guy.”

Yeah, like someone who doesn’t punch people for fun,” Trevor added.

Y/N brushed off their concerns. They didn’t know Matt like she did. Sure, he had a reputation, but beneath the rough exterior was a man who was kind, funny, and fiercely protective. He treated her like gold, and that was all that mattered. Winning over her friends and family would take time, but she was willing to wait.

As her birthday approached, Y/N opted for a quiet celebration. Between work and travel, she wanted nothing more than a simple dinner with close friends. What she didn’t know was that Luke, Jack, and Trevor had cooked up a plan to surprise her.

Trevor stood in the aisle of a party supply store, holding up a pack of balloons. “I’m telling you, this is the move. We sneak into her place, decorate, and when she gets home—bam! Surprise party.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “How do we know she’s not there?”

“She told me she was filming or something,” Jack said, tossing a bag of confetti into the cart. “We’ll be in and out. Easy.”

An hour later, armed with decorations and a cake, the trio let themselves into Y/N’s apartment. Trevor insisted on carrying the cake, while Jack and Luke carried the rest.

“She’s gonna love this,” Trevor said, plopping the cake box onto the kitchen counter.

Jack grinned. “Yeah, if we don’t screw it up.”

The three quickly got to work. Jack wrestled with an oversized banner that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, trying to hang it over the living room window. Trevor blew up balloons, complaining about the lack of a helium tank, while Luke meticulously set up confetti-filled balloons around the coffee table.

“This is looking pretty good,” Luke said, stepping back to admire their handiwork.

“Where do you want the cake?” Trevor asked, balancing it precariously on one hand.

“Counter,” Jack mumbled, still wrestling with the banner. “Let’s finish before she gets home.”

“She’s not home,” Trevor said confidently, grabbing a balloon to blow up.

But he was wrong.

Y/N was home, and she wasn’t alone.

In her bedroom, she and Matt had spent the morning together, enjoying a rare, quiet day off. They’d slept in, laughed over shared jokes, and gotten caught up in each other in a way that made the rest of the world fade into the background.

Matt leaned back against the headboard, a lazy grin on his face. “So, part one of your birthday present?”

“Can it be presented with people around? Or is this a private one” Y/N replied, running a hand through his tousled hair.

“Definitely just us, might give your dad a heartattack” Matt teased, pulling her closer. “Come here”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. They leaned in for another kiss creating explicit faint sounds of muffled noises through the apartment.

Out in the living room, Trevor froze mid-step. “Wait. Did you hear that?”

Jack, teetering on a chair, glanced over his shoulder. “Hear what?”

Trevor held up a hand, signaling for silence. All three of them stilled, ears straining. From down the hallway came the faint sound of moans—deep and unmistakably male and female.

Luke’s face turned bright red. “Oh my.”

“No way,” Trevor whispered, a grin spreading across his face.

Jack hopped down from the chair, his expression one of sheer panic. “It’s not what you think. Maybe she left the TV on.”

Another sound—this time softer, followed by an unmistakable thud—left no room for doubt.

“Oh, this is gold,” Trevor whispered, clutching the edge of the couch for support.

Luke groaned, burying his face in his hands. “We have to leave. Right now.”

“Agreed,” Jack said, already gathering their decorations. “Pack it up. Let’s go.”

Trevor, however, lingered. “Guys. We could just—”

“Nope,” Jack snapped, grabbing Trevor by the arm. “We’re leaving. Now.”

As they scrambled for the door, another sound—one that they really didn’t want to identify—echoed from the bedroom.

“Call Quinn,” Luke muttered as they fled into the hallway. “Call Quinn right now.”

Quinn answered on the second ring. “What’s up?”

Trevor’s voice came through in a near-shout. “You’ll never guess what just happened!”

“What did you do now?” Quinn asked, sounding suspicious.

“We didn’t do anything!” Trevor insisted. “But we went to surprise Y/N for her birthday, and, uh…”

Jack snatched the phone. “We heard them! Her and Matt. Going at it like rabbits.”

“What?!” Quinn sounded half-amused, half-horrified.

Luke’s groan was audible in the background. “It was so bad. I don’t think I’ll ever recover.”

Trevor took the phone back, grinning. “Quinn, I’m telling you. I’m traumatized, but it was also hilarious.”

“You guys are idiots,” Quinn said, though there was laughter in his voice. “Please tell me you didn’t say anything.”

“We ran out of there so fast, they probably didn’t even know we were there,” Trevor assured him.

“Good,” Quinn said. “Because if Y/N finds out, she’s going to kill you.”

Later that day, Cole joined the group call, his laugh echoing through the line as they recounted the story.

“She’s going to find out eventually,” Cole said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “You guys are the worst.”

Jack groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

Meanwhile, back in her apartment, Y/N had no idea what had just transpired—or the chaos that her well-meaning friends had unleashed.

Weeks after her birthday, Y/N found herself seated in a sleek studio alongside Jack, Trevor and Jamie Drysdale, appearing on Instagram live. The atmosphere was casual and lighthearted, the kind of energy Trevor thrived on—and the kind that made Y/N suspicious of what he might say.

Jamie leaned forward with a grin. “So, Y/N, how was your birthday? Heard stuff happened but I’ve been so busy can’t believe I missed it.”

Y/N smiled warmly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was great, honestly. Very low-key. Just how I like it.”

Trevor, sitting to her left, suddenly perked up, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Not that low-key,” he muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jack immediately groaned and slumped in his chair. “Trevor, no.”

“What?” Trevor said innocently, spreading his hands. “It’s a funny story!”

Jamie’s grin widened. “Oh, I need to hear this. What happened?”

Y/N shot Trevor a warning glance, but he was already leaning into the phone, fully committed to his role as the ultimate pot-stirrer.

“So,” Trevor began dramatically, “we thought it would be a good idea to surprise Y/N for her birthday. You know, being the amazing friends we are. Balloons, banners, cake—the works. We figured we’d sneak into her apartment and have it all ready for when she got back.”

Y/N shook her head, already sensing where this was going. “Trevor…”

Trevor ignored her. “The thing is, we didn’t realize she was home—and, uh, she wasn’t alone.”

Jamie burst out laughing. “You’re kidding!”

“Oh, yeah,” Trevor continued, grinning ear to ear. “We’re mid-decorating—Luke’s got balloons, Jack’s fighting with a banner—and then we hear…” He paused for dramatic effect, lowering his voice. “Let’s just say we heard things.”

The studio erupted in laughter. Jack buried his face in his hands, muttering, “I told him not to tell this story.”

Trevor was on a roll now. “We froze, completely starstruck. Like, ‘Is that Matt?’ And sure enough…” He trailed off, smirking at Y/N.

Y/N, her face a mix of embarrassment and exasperation, finally spoke up. “Are you serious right now?” She turned to Jamie. “This is Trevor’s favorite pastime—making up ridiculous stories to embarrass me.”

Trevor looked affronted. “Making up? Oh, no, this is 100% real. Ask Luke!”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m telling you, it’s not true. Matt and I would never—” She gestured sarcastically and vaguely, clearly trying to keep the conversation from getting too graphic. “This is pure fabrication.”

Jamie leaned in, still laughing. “So you’re saying you weren’t home?”

“I was home,” Y/N admitted, her voice calm but firm. “But Trevor has a very active imagination. Matt and I were for sure watching a movie in the bedroom.”

Jack, seeing an opportunity to back her up, jumped in. “Yeah, I mean…we didn’t actually see anything. We just heard…stuff. Could’ve been the TV.”

Trevor groaned. “Don’t cover for her! You know what we heard.”

Y/N crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “Oh, please, Trevor. You probably heard muffled sounds and immediately jumped to conclusions. Matt and I were watching a crime thriller.”

Trevor shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

Jamie laughed so hard he had to wipe his eyes. “This might be my favorite story of all time.”

Y/N sighed, half-laughing despite herself. “I can’t believe I’m defending my perfectly pg 13 relationship on live.”

“You’re welcome,” Trevor said smugly.

Jack chimed in, trying to steer the conversation away from further disaster. “Honestly, the best part is how fast we ran out of there. Luke didn’t even look back. We just left everything—balloons, streamers, the whole setup. It’s probably still there.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “You guys are unbelievable.”

Jamie grinned. “Well, whether it’s true or not, it sounds like Y/N’s birthday was very memorable.”

Trevor gave a mock toast to the phone. “To Y/N and Matt—congrats on keeping things…entertaining.”

Y/N gave him a playful shove, laughing despite her embarrassment. “Next time, maybe knock before you decide to play party planner.”

As the live wrapped, Y/N couldn’t help but shake her head. She might never live this down, but at least life with these guys was never boring.

[chelseaknoo]

90s Eminem x Victoria secrets model! Reader

Request: Hi, can I ask for a longer story (it can be short too if you prefer)? How about Marshal in the 90s with a Victoria Secret model, paparazzi catches a cute moment between them and Em's friends make fun of them and the fans and media are crazy to see a cute side of him, and then he reminds everyone at an awards show that his cute side is only with his girl...

Note:Sorry I couldn’t make it longer enough I hade to rush it

Marshall Mathers—better known as Eminem—had been your boyfriend for a few months now. The two of you meeting was nothing short of surreal, thanks to Dr. Dre’s matchmaking. Dre had noticed Marshall’s little obsession with you when he caught him flipping through magazines featuring your modeling work—Victoria’s Secret, Playboy, and others. At first, Dre didn’t say much, but when he saw how tongue-tied Marshall got every time your name came up, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

It all started the night Dre surprised Marshall backstage at one of his concerts. You had no idea you were about to meet the man himself, but Dre had convinced you to fly out, promising it’d be worth your while.

---

The room was dimly lit, a sharp contrast to the blinding stage lights that had been in Marshall's face all night. He had just stepped offstage after performing in Detroit, his home turf, with adrenaline still coursing through his veins. Dr. Dre was leaning against the wall of the dressing room, scrolling through his phone casually like he didn’t have a surprise up his sleeve.

“Yo, good set tonight, man,” Dre said, looking up.

“Yeah, thanks,” Marshall replied, wiping his face with a towel and grabbing a water bottle. “Crowd was hype. Detroit never disappoints.”

Dre smirked, tucking his phone away. “So, you remember how you keep talking about that one Victoria’s Secret model you like?”

Marshall froze mid-drink, side-eyeing his mentor. “What are you talkin’ about?”

Dre raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Don’t play dumb, Em. I’ve seen your magazines. You’re always like, ‘Man, she’s so fine,’ every time her ad comes on TV. What’s her name? (Y/N)?”

Marshall turned red, scowling. “Yo, why you gotta put me on blast like that? I ain’t sayin’ nothin’.”

“Relax,” Dre chuckled, pushing himself off the wall. “I ain’t clownin’ you… much. Anyway, I might’ve done somethin’.”

“What the hell did you do?” Marshall asked, suspicion lacing his voice as Dre made his way to the door.

Dre opened it slightly and leaned into the hallway, waving someone in. “Yo, come on in!”

Marshall watched in confusion, his brows furrowing. The door swung open wider, and there you were—dressed casually but effortlessly stunning. It was a stark contrast to the glamorous shoots he’d seen you in, but somehow, it made you even more breathtaking.

“Hi,” you greeted with a warm smile, your voice soft but confident.

Marshall’s jaw nearly hit the floor. He blinked several times, convinced this had to be some elaborate prank. “Yo, what—” he stammered, looking between you and Dre. “What is this? Are you serious right now?”

Dre clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Dead serious. Thought I’d help you shoot your shot, man.”

“Wait… what?” Marshall was still processing, running a hand over his buzzed blonde hair.

You stepped closer, extending your hand. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to finally meet you, Marshall.”

“Uh… yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you, too,” he said, shaking your hand like he’d forgotten how to function.

Dre leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, grinning like a proud matchmaker. “Told her you were a fan, Em. Turns out, she thinks you’re pretty dope, too.”

Marshall’s head snapped toward Dre. “You told her? Man, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Relax, man. She’s here, ain’t she?” Dre shrugged, unbothered by the flustered rapper’s reaction.

You laughed softly, the sound instantly easing Marshall’s nerves. “He’s right. I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to meet you. I’ve been a fan of your music for a while now.”

“You… have?” Marshall asked, the disbelief evident in his tone.

You nodded. “Absolutely. ‘My Name Is’ is iconic. And your flow? Insane.”

Marshall chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn, that’s crazy. I mean… thanks. I don’t even know what to say right now.”

Dre pushed off the doorframe. “Well, y’all have fun. I’ll leave you to it.” He shot Marshall a knowing look before disappearing into the hallway.

As the door closed behind him, silence settled between you and Marshall. He shifted awkwardly, trying to think of something clever to say but coming up blank.

“So, this is your hometown, huh?” you said, breaking the ice.

“Yeah. Detroit. Born and raised,” he replied, finally managing to meet your eyes.

“It’s cool to see where you’re from,” you said. “You must love performing here.”

“Yeah, it’s different here. The crowd’s wild, but it’s home, y’know?”

You smiled. “That’s awesome. I can tell you’re really passionate about what you do.”

Marshall felt himself relax a little, the initial shock fading. “Yeah, I mean… music’s everything to me. Keeps me sane, y’know?”

You nodded. “I get that. Modeling can be pretty intense, too. It’s nice to have something that keeps you grounded.”

He tilted his head, curiosity piqued. “How’d you get into all that? Modeling and stuff?”

You chuckled. “Kind of by accident, honestly. I got scouted when I was younger, and it just took off from there. But I love it. It’s given me opportunities I never dreamed of.”

Marshall grinned. “Yeah, like meetin’ me, right?”

You laughed, and he felt a surge of confidence.

“Exactly,” you teased.

The two of you spent the next hour talking like old friends, the initial awkwardness replaced by an easy connection. Marshall couldn’t believe Dre had actually pulled this off, but he wasn’t about to question it.

---

Months had passed since that unforgettable night when Dr. Dre introduced you to Marshall. What started as a whirlwind of nerves and uncertainty quickly blossomed into something neither of you could have anticipated. Now, you and Marshall were inseparable—a happy, albeit unconventional, couple.

Tonight, you found yourself seated in a cozy corner of a trendy Detroit restaurant. It was one of Marshall's favorite spots, lowkey and unpretentious. He had invited some of his closest friends, including Proof and Denaun, for dinner. The table was filled with laughter and conversation, everyone relaxed as plates of food were passed around.

Marshall sat beside you, his arm casually draped across the back of your chair, while his other hand toyed absentmindedly with the edge of his napkin.

“Yo, this mac and cheese is fire,” Denaun said, holding up a forkful. “Y’all need to try this.”

Proof leaned forward, squinting at Denaun’s plate. “That ain’t better than my grandma’s recipe, though. Don’t even start.”

Marshall chuckled. “Man, Proof, you’re always hypin’ up your grandma’s cooking. I’m starting to think she don’t even exist.”

“Say that again, and I’ll have her make a plate just so you can eat your words,” Proof shot back, laughing.

While the guys bantered, you were focused on your own plate, cutting a piece of the steak you had ordered. You noticed Marshall glance at your plate, his eyes lingering.

“You want some?” you asked, lifting the fork toward him.

“Nah, I’m good,” he said, but his gaze didn’t leave the steak.

You smirked, leaning closer. “C’mon, try it. It’s good.”

Marshall hesitated, then leaned in and took a bite. “Damn,” he muttered, chewing thoughtfully. “That’s better than mine.”

You giggled, cutting another piece. “Want another bite?”

“Hell yeah,” he said, and you fed him again, much to the amusement of the guys at the table.

“Yo, look at this dude,” Denaun said, pointing his fork at Marshall. “Marshall out here bein’ all soft with his girl. Feeding each other and shit.”

Proof snickered. “Man, I ain’t seen him act like this ever. You got him whipped, (Y/N).”

Marshall rolled his eyes but smirked. “Y’all just mad ‘cause you don’t have someone feedin’ you.”

You laughed, deciding to tease him a little. “Aw, don’t listen to them, babe. They’re just jealous.”

“Damn right,” Proof said with a grin. “But seriously, Marshall, I never thought I’d see the day. You’re out here lookin’ like a Hallmark commercial.”

“Shut up,” Marshall muttered, his cheeks tinged pink.

As the evening went on, the teasing continued. But you didn’t mind—if anything, you found it endearing how Marshall was willing to show a softer side around you, even with his friends present.

After dessert was served, you leaned back in your seat, feeling content. Marshall shifted closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. Without warning, he buried his face against your chest, sighing dramatically.

“Oh my god, Marshall,” you said, laughing as you glanced down at him. “What are you doing?”

“Damn, this is comfortable,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin.

The table erupted in laughter.

“Yo, what the hell am I seeing right now?” Denaun said, nearly choking on his drink.

Proof slapped the table, wheezing with laughter. “I can’t! Em, what are you doin’? You look like a baby tryin’ to nap.”

“Man, let me live,” Marshall shot back, though he made no move to lift his head. Instead, he tightened his hold on you, clearly enjoying the position.

You shook your head, your hand instinctively brushing over his short hair. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he said smugly, glancing up at you with a smirk before resting his head back down.

“Bro, you really just gon’ let him do that?” Proof asked you, shaking his head.

You laughed, shrugging. “What can I say? He’s comfortable.”

Marshall grinned triumphantly. “See? My girl’s cool with it. Y’all just mad.”

“Man, this is gonna be all over the tabloids if someone sees,” Denaun joked. “Eminem: Rap Legend or Cuddle King?”

Marshall finally lifted his head, flipping him off. “Keep talkin’, and I’ll show y’all who the king is.”

The table dissolved into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but smile. Despite the teasing, the moment felt perfect—a rare glimpse of normalcy and joy in the chaotic life you shared with Marshall.

As the night wound down, Marshall leaned in close, his voice low so only you could hear. “Thanks for puttin’ up with my dumb ass.”

You smiled, brushing your lips against his cheek. “Always.”

And in that moment, surrounded by laughter and love, you realized there was no place you’d rather be.

The next morning, the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen filled the small house you and Marshall had been calling home for the past few weeks. You were scrolling through a magazine at the kitchen table while he stood at the counter, his back to you as he buttered a piece of toast.

“Man, last night was wild,” Marshall said, his voice groggy from just waking up. “I can’t believe Proof was clownin’ on me the whole time.”

You smirked. “To be fair, you did use me as a pillow in front of everyone. You were asking for it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively as he turned to face you. “It’s whatever. It ain’t like anyone else saw it.”

Just as he sat down at the table, your phone rang. You glanced at it, frowning. “It’s Dre. You want me to pick it up?”

Marshall shrugged. “Yeah, go ahead.”

You answered. “Hey, Dre. What’s up?”

“Man, tell your boyfriend to check the news,” Dre’s voice came through, half-laughing, half-serious.

Marshall raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to the phone. “What? Why? What’s goin’ on?”

“You tell me, Mr. Loverboy,” Dre shot back. “Turn on your TV.”

Marshall groaned, pushing back his chair to grab the remote. “What the hell is he talkin’ about now?”

You followed him into the living room as he switched on the TV. Almost immediately, a morning entertainment show flashed on screen, and there it was—photos of the two of you from the night before, clear as day.

One image showed you feeding Marshall, both of you smiling like you didn’t have a care in the world. Another showed him resting his head on your chest, looking completely at ease. The segment’s headline read: "Eminem Shows a Softer Side with a Victoria secrets model!"

“Aw, hell no,” Marshall muttered, running a hand down his face.

You tried to stifle a laugh. “It’s kinda cute, though…”

“Cute? Yo, they’re makin’ me look like a damn puppy out here!” Marshall exclaimed, pacing the room.

Dre’s voice crackled through the phone still in your hand. “A puppy? Nah, Em, they’re callin’ you a teddy bear. I’ve been gettin’ calls all morning askin’ if you’re droppin’ a love song next.”

“Yo, Dre, this ain’t funny, man!” Marshall yelled, though his tone betrayed his embarrassment more than anger.

“Oh, it’s hilarious,” Dre said, laughing. “I already know Proof and Denaun are gonna have a field day with this. You better brace yourself.”

Marshall sighed, flopping down on the couch and burying his face in his hands. “Man, this is gonna ruin me. My whole image is shot!”

You sat beside him, patting his shoulder. “Relax, it’s not that bad. People love seeing this side of you. Besides,” you added with a teasing grin, “I think you look adorable in the pictures.”

Marshall groaned. “Not you, too.”

Later that day, Marshall reluctantly went to the studio to work on a new track. As soon as he walked through the door, he was greeted by Proof and Denaun, both holding newspapers with the same pictures plastered on the front.

“Yo! Loverboy’s here!” Proof called out, waving the paper like a trophy.

Marshall scowled. “Man, shut the hell up.”

“You see these, though?” Denaun said, holding up his own copy. “Look at this one right here, Proof. My man’s got his head all up on her chest like it’s a damn hotel pillow.”

“Comfort Suites by Victoria’s Secret,” Proof added, laughing so hard he had to hold his stomach.

Marshall snatched one of the papers from Denaun, glaring at the images. “Y’all are mad annoying, you know that?”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Proof teased, slinging an arm around Marshall’s shoulder. “We’re just happy to see you happy. Even if it’s funny as hell.”

“Man, y’all act like you’ve never seen someone chill with their girl before,” Marshall shot back, shaking him off.

Dre walked into the room, grinning from ear to ear. “What’s up, Romeo? You finishin’ that ballad yet?”

Marshall groaned loudly. “Not you, too, Dre!”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me,” Dre said, holding up his hands in mock defense. “You brought this on yourself. But for real, Em, the pictures are blowin’ up. Fans love ‘em. They’re sayin’ you’re finally showin’ you’re human.”

“Man, I don’t care what they’re sayin’,” Marshall muttered, slumping into a chair. “This is just dumb.”

Proof sat across from him, shaking his head with a smirk. “You can act all mad about it, but we all know the truth.”

“And what’s that?” Marshall asked, narrowing his eyes.

“That you’re head over heels for (Y/N),” Proof said simply.

Marshall hesitated, his tough exterior softening for just a moment. “Yeah, so what if I am?”

The room went silent for a beat before Denaun laughed. “Man, I knew it! You really are a teddy bear.”

Marshall rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Whatever, man. Y’all just mad you ain’t got what I got.”

“True,” Proof said, raising his hands. “I can’t even argue with that.”

“Damn right,” Marshall said, leaning back in his chair. “Now, can we stop talkin’ about this and get back to work?”

The teasing continued on and off for the rest of the day, but deep down, Marshall didn’t mind. He had you by his side, and even if the world saw his softer side, he knew it was all worth it.

-

Today, Marshall was being nominated for best rap album.You couldn’t be more proud of him.

The night was electric. The atmosphere at the awards show was electric, filled with flashing cameras and glimmering lights. You and Marshall were seated side by side in the front row, both dressed casually but still looking as stylish as ever. Marshall wore his usual attire: a plain white T-shirt, baggy jeans, and a hoodie, with a signature pair of sneakers completing the look. Even without a suit, he exuded a kind of effortless cool, the same way he did when he first made a name for himself. His confidence, though unspoken, was undeniable.

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride every time you looked at him. This was his moment—the culmination of years of hard work, struggles, and sacrifice. You had been by his side through all of it, and seeing him nominated for an award only made your heart swell.

The ceremony was dragging on, filled with different categories and performers, but you were content to just be there with him. You leaned against him slightly, your hand resting on his leg under the table, giving him a reassuring squeeze every now and then. Marshall kept his cool, never showing any signs of nerves, but you knew how much this meant to him.

Finally, they announced the nominees for Best Rap Album, and the room fell into a hush as they prepared to call the winner. Your grip tightened on his hand as the name of the winner was read aloud.

“And the award goes to... Eminem!”

A collective cheer erupted from the audience, and Marshall stood up, the loudest cheer coming from his friends who were seated across the room. He gave a slight nod, his usual smirk playing on his lips as he walked toward the stage. You stayed in your seat for a moment, watching him, your heart racing. This was it.

Marshall accepted the award, his eyes scanning the crowd as he took the microphone, his face flashing that signature mischievous grin.

“Damn, I don’t even know what to say,” he began, his voice casual but carrying through the auditorium. “First of all, I gotta thank the fans. Without y’all, I wouldn’t be standing up here today. You guys keep me going when I feel like giving up, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.”

The audience erupted into applause. You could hear the whispers of excitement from the crowd, the cameras flashing, the whole room hanging on his every word.

Marshall paused, looking down at the award in his hands for a moment, as though soaking it all in.

“I wanna thank my team—Dre and everyone who had my back from the jump,” he continued. “Without you guys, I wouldn’t be here. This is all for you.”

More applause. He had the audience in the palm of his hand, as usual. But then, he glanced toward you, his eyes softening as he caught your gaze from the front row.

“And lastly,” he said, his tone shifting ever so slightly, but you noticed it, “I gotta thank someone special. (Y/N), you’ve been there for me through everything. You’re the one who’s been by my side, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

You blushed at his words, feeling the heat of the moment. The entire room fell silent as Marshall’s gaze never left you. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the love in his expression, and it made your heart swell.

He cleared his throat, the corners of his mouth quirking up in that playful way of his. “But… I gotta say one thing to everyone out here—my cute side… that’s only for (Y/N),” he said sternly, and for a moment, you thought he was about to drop a punchline.

The room burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but smile at his playful delivery. But then, there was a moment of silence, and all eyes were on him. The crowd had no idea what to expect next.

“You heard me,” Marshall continued, his tone still light but tinged with the confidence you loved so much. “That soft, cuddly, teddy bear side of me? It only comes out when I’m with her. So, don’t get it twisted, okay?”

The crowd roared with laughter and applause. Some of Marshall’s friends from across the room stood up, cheering loudly. Dre, who had been sitting behind you, raised his glass in your direction with a smirk. “Yo, that’s my boy right there!” he shouted, eliciting even more cheers from the audience.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your heart racing with pride. Marshall was a force of nature, and here he was, in front of thousands of people, being unapologetically himself. The crowd loved it. They loved him.

Marshall flashed a grin, his usual cocky attitude shining through as he held up the award. “But seriously, thanks to everyone who believed in me. This one’s for you, (Y/N),” he said, his eyes softening once more as he looked at you.

You smiled back at him, holding his gaze, feeling your heart swell with affection. He always knew how to make you feel special, even when the spotlight was on him.

The applause continued, but this time, it felt different—more genuine. Marshall had managed to not only win an award but also to share a moment of vulnerability with his fans. They had seen the tough, no-nonsense side of him for years, but tonight, they got a glimpse of the man who was also deeply in love and unapologetically devoted to the one person who understood him.

He stepped away from the mic, raising the trophy in one hand. “Alright, that’s enough outta me,” he said with a smile. “Now let’s get outta here before they start handing out the ‘Best Couple’ award.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, and the audience chuckled with you. Marshall had a way of turning even the most sincere moments into something playful.

As he walked off the stage, the audience still clapping and laughing, Marshall turned toward you, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“You good?” he asked, grinning like he hadn’t just turned an awards ceremony into a personal love fest.

“I’m more than good,” you replied, reaching up to pull him down into a kiss.

“Yeah, I’m lucky as hell,” he murmured against your lips, and you could feel the warmth of his words in the way he held you.

your lips curling into a flirtatious smile. "There’s gonna be a second award for you tonight… but it won’t be for your music."

Marshall raised an eyebrow, the playful tension between you two palpable. He leaned in closer, his lips curling into a smirk as he matched your tone. "Oh yeah?" he replied, his voice low and teasing. "What kind of award are we talkin' about here?"

You kept your eyes locked on his, letting the anticipation build. "Well, let’s just say it’ll be more personal," you said with a wink, your hand subtly brushing against his arm. "I think you’ve earned it."

He chuckled softly, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "Damn, you’re bold," he muttered, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, "I like it."

You could feel his breath on your skin, and the way his body instinctively leaned toward you sent a thrill down your spine. "Just wait, Marshall. Tonight, you’re gonna get a taste of a real reward."

His lips curved into a satisfied grin. "I’m definitely looking forward to it," he murmured, his voice husky with that unmistakable mix of confidence and desire. "You always know how to keep me on my toes."

With that, the two of you shared a quick kiss before heading back to your seat. But you could feel the heat between you both, knowing the night was far from over. As the awards show continued, all you could think about was the "second award" you’d be giving him later.

[goldenempyrean]

Spring Showers

〚 Notes - Hello! This was based off this: request! I was meant to post this yesterday I think but something came up. Hopefully this is enjoyable, honestly feels good to write again :) 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - When you’re sick, your day goes from bad to worse. A small car breakdown later and you find yourself unexpectedly bumping into Natasha. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2681 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

Waking up that fresh spring morning, you rolled over to snooze the alarm that had pulled you out of your slumber, hitting it lazily before letting gravity take control and send your arm flopping over the edge of the bed.

You groaned a little as it hit the edge of your bed, rubbing your elbow with an annoyed look as if somehow death-staring the metal frame would make up for it.

As you begrudgingly got out of bed, the chill of the early morning hit you, sending a shiver down your spine. You had to admit felt a bit off, today. Your head heavy and your throat scratchy but you ignored the signs of fatigue and finished getting dressed and ready for the day.

Nat was always one to be up and out early in the mornings. Running, training or sometimes even just reading, whatever it was, she was definitely up and ready for her day before sunrise. Early bird gets the worm? Well, the early widow gets her 90-minute workout in without being disturbed. She liked it that way.

Unfortunately, it meant you usually weren’t able to see her most days before heading out to work - the rare exception being when you were on a late shift and got a few extra hours at home before heading out.

You weren’t an Avenger like your girlfriend, instead you served the people of New York by working in the local hospital as the Chief Nurse in charge. It was a demanding job, but one you found incredibly rewarding.

The pouring rain grabbed back your wandering attention as you sat sleepily over your chosen bowl of cereal. You hadn’t really had an appetite but had forced a few bites down regardless before you lost interest. Checking your phone, you realised you needed to set off, so you grabbed your car keys and headed out the compound.

As you pulled into the hospital's parking lot, you mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead. You tried to clear your throat as you checked yourself over in the mirror, but it ended in you coughing raspily and sighing in defeat as you rubbed your throat. Maybe water would get rid of the soreness, you thought as you took a tentative sip from your bottle… nope, it still hurt. What a fun day this was going to be.

Whoever said being in charge was fun, was sorely mistaken. Throughout the morning, you found yourself raising your voice more often than usual to be heard over the cacophony of the emergency room. By midday, your voice had started to crack and strain, sending sharp pains down your throat with each word.

Eventually you resigned yourself to your office, sick (literally) of the mix of pitiful, disgusted and annoyed glances you were receiving from both residents and patients.

As you sat in your office, trying to soothe your aching throat and mustering the energy to tackle the mountain of paperwork on your desk, the hospital intercom made you jump as it crackled to life, urgently calling you to the ER.

You groaned but despite your muscle’s aching, your instincts kicked in, and you rushed out of your office towards the ER.

As you entered the chaotic room, your senses were assaulted by the echo of urgent voices and the sharp smell of antiseptic made your eyes water.

You had barely assessed the ongoing situation before a sudden sneeze erupted from you, surprising yourself with its volume. You’d quickly covered your mouth, but the damage was done. Several heads turned in your direction, eyebrows raised in concern.

Before you could even attempt to explain, your boss appeared, her expression a mix of concern and sternness. "What are you doing here, Y/N?" She asked, her tone indicating she already knew the answer.

You tried to muster a response, but your throat rebelled, emitting only a hoarse croak instead.

Your bosses' eyes softened slightly, an understanding look settling on her face. "You're ill," She stated matter-of-factly. "Go home, rest, and don't come back until you're fully recovered. We don’t need you starting an epidemic.”

Despite your protests, she ushered you out of the ER and back to your office to collect your belongings. She helped you collect your things, only stopping to hold a thermometer to your ear as she checked your temperature.

You thanked her hoarsely as she held open the door for you, “Seriously, I don’t want you back until 48 hours after that fever breaks.” She warned with a stern tone but the gentle pat on your back made it obvious she was just worried that’s all.

As you stepped out of the hospital, the chilly rain immediately soaked through your clothes, sending shivers down your spine. You dropped your keys twice as you fumbled to unlock your car, finally flopping down behind the wheel with an drained sigh - a sigh which your crackling lungs despised, reprimanding you in the form of a burning cough.

As you drove home, the rain beat relentlessly against the windshield, blurring the already dimly lit road ahead. Each cough sent a sharp pang through your chest, and your vision blurred with exhaustion. You tried to focus on driving safely, your mind drifting to the warmth of your bed and girlfriend waiting for you at home. Not long now…

But just as you approached a traffic light, your car sputtered, the engine emitting a series of ominous noises before finally giving out with a pathetic wheeze. Panic seized you as you coasted to the side of the road, hazard lights flashing weakly in the rain.

You tried to restart the engine, but it only responded with a feeble groan before falling silent again.

“Oh you piece of shit!” You slammed your hand on the wheel as the car’s engine light flickered an angry red, “Stupid, fucking-“ An awful cough broke off your curse, your grip on the wheel turning white as your lungs burned.

After you caught your breath, you leaned back in your seat, feeling utterly defeated. Each raindrop seemed to mock your predicament, drumming against the windshield like a cruel taunt. With a heavy heart and a pounding headache you pulled out your phone - fighting back exhausted tears as you saw the critical low battery warning flash up on the screen.

You didn’t know the number of any breakdown services or anyone that could really be of help. The most you were able to do was to text Tony to ask him to help you move your car tomorrow. He had always been quick to respond so you found your spirits lifting just an inch higher when he agreed. However, those spirits were surely crushed when you opened up the Uber app on your phone only for the screen to turn black, taunting you with the picture of an empty battery.

“For fucks sake!”

There was nothing more you could do. You’d just have to walk. Nobody was coming to save you. You were a grown girl. You can look after yourself. There was a grocery store just down this road, maybe 10 minutes or so. You’d be able to stop there, rest, maybe pick up a few supplies. There’d be a phone there too, you’d be able to call someone to pick you up.

As you trudged through the rain, each step heavier than the last, you had to practically drag yourself down the street as your congested lungs begged for air. It was hard for see through the constant rain; the whistling of the wind made your ears throb. The chill of your soaked clothes clung tightly to your skin, and the coughing fits continued to rack your exhausted body until finally you’d made it.

You didn’t wait any longer before heading inside. The bright fluoresce of the lights made your eyes sting a little but this was miles better compared to being outside getting battered by the rain.

With each stumbling step, you grabbed a basket make your way to find some medicine. You just wanted something to make you feel better, just anything that would put an end to your awful day.

Maybe you should get some actual groceries whilst you where did. It wouldn’t hurt to stock up the cupboards a little, you might as well consider you were here.

Little did you know your girlfriend was already one step ahead of you.

Natasha’s eyes widened a little as she strolled down the aisle, pushing along half a cart of groceries as she hummed. Y/N? What were you doing here? This was a pleasant surprise and she kept quiet as she snuck up to you.

“Hey bub.” Her warm voice murmured, and you felt familiar arms wrap around the front of your waist. Natasha’s head came to rest on your shoulder as she nosied at what you were looking at, “I thought we agreed that I’d be doing groceries this week.” She purred, kissing the side of your neck sweetly.

You shrugged through gritted teeth, your damp clothes crinkling uncomfortably, “I just needed something.”

“Hold on.” Her brow crinkled just a little, “I thought you had work?” She paused, her face shifting slightly as she realised just how soaked you were. This was not the kind of damp someone got just walking from the car to the entrance. You were drenched! “God, you’re soaked Y/N! Where on earth have you been? Did you walk here?!”

Your eyes cast to the floor. You’d forgotten that it was usually the day that the two of you had gone grocery shopping. Of course, it hadn’t even occurred to you that Nat might’ve been in the store.

“I may have got a little damp.” You sniffled thickly, trying to keep your tone neutral but the painful rasp in your voice instantly gave yourself away, “…and my car may or may not have broken down coming back from work.”

Natasha's concern deepened as she noticed your raspy voice. "Oh, sweetheart, you should have called me. I would've come to pick you up." Her voice softened, filled with genuine worry. Her grip tightened around you a little. “You're not just ‘damp’, you're practically drenched and- oh, what’s this?” Her eyes glanced down, noticing the theme of items in your own basket.

She had just about to ask you about them, but her question was answered when you ducked into your elbow with two forceful sounding sneezes barely seconds later.

“Double bless you!” Her tone shifted instantly to one of comfort, “Guess I don’t need to ask why your voice is so hoarse and you’re buying meds then, hm?” She cooed and you turned around with a pout, letting your head fall onto her shoulder as you wrapped your arms around her.

“You’re not feeling well.” It wasn’t a question, she just looked at you, looking deep into your weary eyes as she continued to hold you, “How long?”

You let out a small cough into her shoulder, “This morning. Got worse at work, got sent home which was beyond embarrassing.” Your croaking voice mumbled in defeat as Nat’s hand came to soothingly rub your back.

“I’m so tired and achy.” You continued, grumbling softly, finally feeling the weight of the day begin to let up as Nat continued to hold you in the moment, “My throat’s been so bad all day and I’ve had to constantly yell at people to do their jobs properly because apparently they’re all incompetent idiots that don’t know their elbows from their arse!”

Natasha couldn’t help but laugh a little at your choice of words but quickly shut up when you shot her a glare - of course the glare had been in no way intimidating with your sleepy eyes and runny nose, but she got the hint regardless.

“Sounds rough sunshine.” She murmured, sympathetically rubbing your back before the two of you began to walk towards another aisle, “Let me get those for you, oh and the car?” She asked, realising you hadn’t explained.

Nat took the basket from your hand and put it in her cart despite your objections, “It just decided to give up on me, right in the middle of driving home. I text Tony and he said he’d get it moved tomorrow but then my phone died before I could call an uber so I had to walk the way back.” You coughed harshly as you explained what had happened, rubbing your throat with a whine.

“That’s some awful luck sweetheart, I’m sorry. How about we get you a few things and just spend the rest of the day being warm and cosy?” Nat offered as a pulled a stuffed animal from the shelf, nuzzling it against your cheek before putting it into the cart.

Your face lightened up a little and you found yourself keeping a little closer to her as the pair of you continued through the store, “You wanna get some ice cream for that poor throat of yours sweet girl?” She asked, but of course she already what the answer would be.

As you nodded eagerly, Natasha smiled, glad to see a hint of brightness returning to your expression. She led you to the freezer section, picking out your favourite flavour without hesitation. "Here we go," she said, placing it gently in the cart beside you. "Oh, and we should get some tea as well, all we have is that herbal stuff Wanda likes but it’s kinda bitter, you’ll feel better with something sweeter. I think.”

She kept her hand softly holding your own you both headed over to find the tea - occasionally pausing as Nat picked up some of the general groceries you needed but it was hard to miss how she kept adding in small treats for you along the way, your favourite drink, snacks she even chose your favourite scent of laundry detergent.

Eventually your fever raging brain felt too fuzzy to keep paying attention, so you switched off, trusting her enough to let her lead you along without asking questions.

Her voice seemed to echo and your vision blur before a hand cupping your cheek brought you back to reality. “Hey, earth to Y/N.” Natasha repeated herself, “You dazed out for a second there sweetie. Did you hear what I said?”

“Uh, no, sorry.” You answered sheepishly, warm embarrassment creeping up into your cheeks.

But Nat only smiled at you, her warm gaze making you relax, “I asked what tea you’d like baby.”

You nodded and turned to look over the assortment of boxes. You weren’t much of a tea person, in fact you never really drank it at all unless you were sick and Nat was definitely more of a coffee girl, herself. As you looked over the selection, a sudden sneeze caught you off guard, you stumbled back a little and bumped into Nat which made your girlfriend shake her head fondly as you sniffled in surprise.

“Bless you again. Looks like we’ll need some more tissues," She deducted, kissing your cheek swiftly before jogging back to the previous aisle, quickly returning with a few extra boxes and added them to the cart.

"You poor thing," Nat said sympathetically, as she opened one of the boxes in the cart and handing you a tissue. "Here, blow your nose love.”

“Thanks.”

“Berry-Bliss?” She read the name of the tea you’d chosen, after you’d finished blowing nose. “Is that one the kind you want?”

You shrugged sluggishly, biting back a groan as your muscles ached, “I’ll give it a try.”

“Worth a try.” She agreed, taking the box from you, not missing the chance to kiss your forehead as she did so. “You’re really warm baby. How about we pay up and get you back home sweetheart? I know you’re exhausted.”

As she suggested heading home, you nodded gratefully, taking her hand and letting her lead you towards the check outs. It wouldn’t take long to pay and get home but when you did, you knew you were in for an evening of cuddling and love.

Who could ask for more?

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @mahalkitanova @romanoffskisser @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @citrussnz @fluffyblanketgecko @kljhsong @santana1437 @blackwidow-3 @asiangmrchk13 @lovelyy-moonlight @juiles @lots-of-pockets @sashawalker2 @natashamaximoff69 @observeowl @beholdagaywriter @widows201 @llovergirleraa @danveration @idkeithershawty @rainedontknow @poison-blackheart @loveshineslikethesky @somber-sapphic @lexasaurs634 @ahintofchaos @scarlettssub @paisley-yy @wandanats-goodgirl @nuianced-tck-enby @maomaoincomming @anne-lister @rianlovelygirl @taliiiaasteria @swaqcenix @inluvwithfandom

[lamiadrowned]

hi queen! i love ur page and i have a request! could you do headcannons for vi with an extremely honest yet clueless reader, i feel like that’d be so funny like “jinx is no longer my sister” “uhhh yes she is??” anyway that’s it, thank you !! <33

*:･ﾟ✧ vi with a (slightly) airheaded girlfriend

violet x fem!reader | sfw

this is a hilarious request ugh thank you anon

first of all, she finds you so funny. especially when you aren’t trying to be.

it always leaves you stumped when you’re trying to actually correct her on something, and she just bursts out laughing like you told the funniest joke she’d ever heard.

the biggest arguments you’ve gotten into with her happen when you incorrectly correct her grammar or use of a phrase, but neither of you really have a good enough education to tell who’s right and who’s wrong, so most of your spats remain unresolved.

after all, two people who need to be right all the time are bound to bicker.

a lot of your ‘arguments’ don’t contain much bickering, though.

they’re mostly just a back-and-forth dialogue that devolves into mutual confusion and total disarray. as hardheaded as she can be, she’s also the first to admit that she doesn’t know as much as she might have thought.

you’re like her own personal fact checker! (but the facts have no backing and she just has to kind of choose whether or not to believe you).

“any updates on your sister?” you’d ask her after another long day of your respective work pertaining to jinx.

she’d spent most of the day scouring the streets of zaun for any sign of her, while you stayed in your apartment trying to piece together documents and records to track her down.

vi takes off her jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair at the dining table, which is covered in papers and blurry pictures. “as far as i’m concerned, she sure as hell isn’t my sister.”

“what?” your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “i mean, you have the same parents. how could she not be your sister?”

she immediately recognizes your tone, knowing she’d accidentally dug herself into a hole with one sentence. “i… i meant it more as a metaphor, i guess. that’s the word, right?”

you stare at her in complete silence, recalling her words and wondering if the metaphor had completely flown over your head. eventually, you shake your head and try to ignore the knowing smile on her face. “i don’t think you know what a metaphor is, hun.”

“hold on, what even is a metaphor, then?” she asks, now seeming to be just as confused as you, that smug grin now replaced with a look of total dubiety.

you lean against the dining table. “a metaphor would be comparing two things that aren’t related.”

“oh. well, there you go. me and jinx aren’t related. it is a metaphor.” she shrugs.

“you are related, though. same parents, remember?” you tilt your head. “something about biology and all that dna shit.”

she positions herself in front of you and cups your jawline with her calloused hands, tilting your head to look up at her. “it’s adorable and aggravating that you take everything so literally, you know that?”

for a moment, you totally forget what the conversation was about, given the fact that just looking into her eyes is enough to turn your brain to mush.

that is, until it finally clicks.

“oh! you’re using a figure of speech,” you wrap your arms around her shoulders, “which is not the same as a metaphor.”

then, she snaps her fingers and points at you with, smile beaming with success. “yeah! yeah, that’s it. a figure of speech. thanks, babe.”

she’s also quick to realize that you do the same to pretty much everyone else, so at the very least, she knows it isn’t targeted.

if anything, it’s free entertainment.

watching proudly as you squabble with a bartender about how a non-alcoholic drink should be called just that, rather than a teetotaler’s drink, because “90% of zaun’s population probably couldn’t pronounce that word, nonetheless know what it means,” simply because you happened to be one of the 90% who could not pronounce it nor define it.

also, she backs you up like her life depends on it, even if she didn’t hear half of the conversation, or generally have no idea what the conversation was about.

after any of your feuds with someone other than her, she’ll make a point to go up to them and respectfully throw down some corny defenses like “the misses is always right, capiche?” or “can’t really argue with that, huh?”

[atsumutu]

“Hajime, are you bored?”

The raven haired man peers up from his phone, instantly locking the device and pocketing it when he sees the concern etched across your face.

Shaking his head, Iwaizumi gives you a gentle smile. It only takes him a few steps to reach you. “No, just checking my emails.”

Unconvinced, you rest a palm on his chest. It wasn’t like you had forced the man to come out with you. Ever the attentive boyfriend, Iwaizumi had made it his mission to spend some time with you after a hectic few weeks of work - even if that meant spending the day following you into countless stores.

“Are you sure? I know this isn’t really your thing.” you mumble, gesturing lamely at the store.

“Baby, no.” he plants a soft kiss on your temple. “I love spending time with you. Even if it means becoming your personal bag holder.” Iwaizumi lifts an arm, biceps curling underneath his t shirt as he lifts a plethora of shopping bags with ease, 90% of the contents belonging to you.

He watches the way your eyes draw towards his muscle and with the tiniest lift of his lips, he whispers. “I’m starting to think you only bring me along so you can have me carry your bags and ogle me.”

Rolling your eyes, you lightly slap his chest. “You’re the one who always insists on coming with me and carrying all my bags.”

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow as if to ask are you sure?

Scoffing, you offer no solid denial, only a light push that does nothing to move the brute standing before you. Iwaizumi smiles down at you, endeared by the attempt.

“Seriously though, Hajime, I can go around by myself. Why don’t you go home and rest?”

Now he’s confused. It’s the second time you’ve tried to send him home and he’s racking his brain to see if he may have upset you somehow but he keeps coming up blank. Finally giving up, he decides to ask you.

“Why?” he squints his eyes playfully, “You got another man around to carry your stuff for you?” When you don’t respond to his joke, the raven furrows his brows. Calloused palms come to rest on your cheek. “I’m fine, love.”

And sure he looked fine, Iwaizumi was as tough as nails. But not even he could handle the crazy hours he had been working the last couple of weeks and you could tell he was close to running on fumes.

“Ha ha, very funny.” taking a hold of his wrist, you peer up at the man. “Let’s just go home. I think i’ve bought enough-“

“No.” He’s curt and the unexpected sharpness in his tone cuts you a lot deeper than he would have ever intended. You blink at his words, guilt, concern and a flash of hurt painting across your features. Sighing, Iwaizumi rests his forehead on your shoulder, groaning in what you guess is regret.

Your first instinct is to comfort him, so you do. Weaving your fingers through his dark tresses, you let him soak in your warmth.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“I know, Haji.”

With a final sigh, he slumps back a step. “Shit, maybe I do need to get my ass home.” he chuckles half heartedly.

Humming, you take a step forward to reach him, mischief brimming in your tone. “Well if you’d just listened to me the first time I wouldn’t be here trying to calm down Mr Grumpy Pants himself.”

“Watch it.” he snipes, no real bite behind his words.

And in all your childish glory, you stick your tongue out at him.

Iwaizumi looks wholly amused. When was the last time someone stuck their tongue out at him? Then, he remembers who his best friend is and any trace of amusement is gone. “That Oikawa is a shitty influence on you.” he grumbles.

“Come on, let’s go.” you giggle, reaching for his free hand to lead him towards the exit.

“Hey,” he calls, softly tugging at your hands to halt your steps, “I love you.”

Despite the gruff texture of his voice, you would never tire of how softly those words would fall from his lips.

“I love you too.” lifting your entwined fingers up, you seal your words with a quick kiss to the back of his hand. “Now, can we finally go home?”

Iwaizumi smiles, fond. “Let's go home.”

[daisymbin]

21. "we should bake something together—it’ll be a disaster, but fun."

Vernon has a craving for chocolate chip cookies and asks reader for help. lots of fluff and very domestic pls 🙂‍↕️

omg I love this....thank you for requesting this ahh!!!!

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // hansol's m.list

fluff prompt #21: "we should bake something together—it'll be a disaster, but fun."

hansol stood in the doorway of the living room, biting his lip nervously. he shuffled his feet a little, as if he couldn’t quite figure out how to ask. you looked up from your book, giving him an expectant look.

"hey," he started, his voice soft. "want to bake something with me?"

you blinked, a little confused. "bake? really? you hate cooking."

"yeah, well..." he scratched the back of his neck, glancing away for a second. "i was thinking... maybe we could make chocolate chip cookies? it’ll probably be a disaster, but, you know, fun."

you raised an eyebrow, setting the book down. "fun? you do realize you can’t even make toast without burning it, right?"

"hey, that was a one-time thing," hansol protested, his eyes widening with mock offense. "i was just distracted."

you snorted, crossing your arms. "uh-huh. distracted by what? nothing burns toast like that except for someone who’s not paying attention."

he pouted, his bottom lip jutting out dramatically. "there's a good 90% chance that I was probably distracted by you. now, come on. please? i promise i’ll make it up to you if it’s a mess. i’ll even clean up afterwards."

you sighed, feeling your resolve crumble. hansol could be annoyingly persuasive when he wanted to be. "fine. but if the kitchen ends up looking like a war zone, you're cleaning it up."

"deal!" he said with a bright grin, practically bouncing on his heels. "it’s going to be a fun one, i promise."

as you both headed into the kitchen, hansol started pulling ingredients out of the cabinets with such enthusiasm that you couldn’t help but laugh. flour, sugar, butter—he was setting it all up like he’d done it a hundred times before, even though you both knew he hadn’t.

you grabbed the chocolate chips from the counter. "you know," you started, "it’s kind of weird that you suddenly want to bake. you’ve always said cooking’s a pain."

hansol paused mid-movement, glancing at you with a sheepish smile. "well, yeah. it’s not really my thing, you know? but..." he trailed off, his gaze softening. "i don’t know. i guess i just... want to spend more time with you."

you blinked, surprised by his sudden honesty. "spend time with me? we spend time together all the time."

he shifted his weight, looking down at the counter, clearly trying to find the right words. "i don’t know... lately, i feel like we haven’t really... been doing things together, y’know? with all the schedules and work, it’s like i’m always busy, and i miss you. i miss hanging out with you, just... doing something simple." he gave you a small, almost shy smile. "so i thought baking would be a good excuse."

you felt your heart soften at his words. he’d always been so busy, always on the move. the rare moments when he was home, really home, felt like treasures. you smiled at him, walking over to where he stood, and lightly nudged him with your shoulder. "you really do miss me, huh?"

"yeah," he said quietly, a little sheepish but undeniably sincere. "i do.

you chuckled, brushing a stray piece of flour off his cheek, and reached for the mixing bowl. "well, how can i say no to that? let’s make these cookies, then."

hansol’s face lit up with a grin, his earlier hesitation vanishing. "really?"

"yeah," you said, feeling your heart flutter at his excitement. "let’s make a mess. we’ll burn a few cookies along the way, but it'll be worth it."

"yes!" hansol cheered, practically jumping into action. "this is gonna be great, i swear."

the two of you fell into an easy rhythm, flour dusting the air as you measured out ingredients and mixed them together. hansol was surprisingly good at cracking eggs without making a mess, though he did drop one onto the counter once and laughed it off.

"well, that’s one egg down," he joked, looking at the mess on the counter like it was no big deal. "but hey, we're getting there!" he quickly reassures you.

you laughed, shaking your head. "we’ll be lucky if the cookies don’t end up as hockey pucks."

"nah," hansol said, confidently. "i’m a pro at this now. we got this."

as you mixed the dough together, hansol snuck a piece of chocolate chip dough, only to be caught red-handed by you. "hey! no eating the dough yet," you scolded with a laugh.

he made a face, his mouth full of dough. "but it’s so good!" he protested through a mouthful. "you can’t blame me for sampling."

you rolled your eyes but smiled, pulling out the baking sheet to spoon out the dough. "just make sure the cookies are actually edible. that’s all i ask."

you both giggled your way through the whole process—laughter filling the kitchen as you dropped spoonfuls of dough onto the tray. even when a little flour splashed onto hansol’s shirt, he just grinned like it was all part of the plan.

when the cookies were finally in the oven, hansol leaned against the counter, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "thanks for agreeing to do this with me," he said quietly. "i know i can be a pain sometimes."

you reached out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "you’re not a pain. i’m glad we did this. it’s nice... being here with you."

he smiled, his eyes lighting up. "i like it too. i like being with you."

the timer went off, and the two of you rushed to the oven, pulling out the tray with the cookies that were perfectly golden brown. well, mostly perfect. a couple were a little overcooked, but they were still good.

"they’re beautiful," hansol said with a grin, holding up one of the cookies as if it was a masterpiece.

you took a bite, and despite a slightly burnt edge, the warmth and sweetness hit you just right. "not bad for a first-time baker."

"i told you," hansol said, with a wink. "disaster, but fun."

you laughed, taking another cookie and handing him one. "definitely fun. and maybe not such a disaster after all."

hansol smiled, a little shy but warm, as he reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. "i’m really glad we did this," he said softly. "i missed you."

you squeezed his hand back, your heart swelling. "me too, hansol. me too."

[pro-mammonologist]

Things that are canon because I said so:

- Lucifer has only ever broken down a total of three times and all three times were in the presence of Mammon and no one else

- Satan goes out of his way to find human folktales about demons and figuring out if they’re true or not

- Mammon thinks science is really cool but he’s a little stupid so it cancels out

- Beel sends recipes to Mc when they’re in the human world so they can make them and freeze them and then send them to him but Mc had to explain it doesn’t work that way and it would rot or just be gross

- asmo is the brothers matchmakers he is the reason for 90% of their relationships

- asmo has tried to have sex with Barbatos repeatedly but has never ever ever succeeded

- Diavolo definitely has gone to Devildom orgies and just watched for fun

- diavolo has seen Asmo at way too many

- demons can’t get stds but angels can

- demons are fertile on their periods opposed to humans

- Satan reads about human history and has a great understanding of human stuff but somehow Levi ends up knowing more because of anime

- Mammon gets angel, demon, and human history mixed up “Whaddya mean demons didn’t have an Adolf Hitler??? He killed lots of people right???”

- Belphie steals pillows from Lucifer’s room all the time

- Mammon has tried every single psychedelic in creation, remembers practically none of them

- Lucifer has Asmo color his grays for him, his pride won’t let him go to a salon

- Lucifer also plucks grays he has in his eyebrows or uses makeup

- Levi knows obscure human animes but doesn’t know the popular ones???? But Mammon has watched the popular ones… (Levi refused to watch the popular ones because Mammon watched them first)

- Barbatos likes to take ice baths to sooth himself

- Diavolo thinks it’s terrifying Barbatos likes ice baths

- Simeon shares Lucifer stories in exchange for good grades with Diavolo (no one knows but dia)

- Solomon secretly stalked Lucifer when he first decided he wanted to make a pact, because of that, he knows Lucifer’s habits better than Lucifer

- Lucifer has secretly been paranoid he’s been watched all this time but he has thought it was his father or Michael, not Solomon

- Michael frequently writes letters to the brothers but never sends them and Simeon is this close to stealing them and bringing them to the brothers

- Lucifer would let the brothers get a pet if Mc asked but actually because he secretly wants one

- Mammon pretends like he’s the big speed racer fan and would totally do it himself but his older brother instincts kick in when he goes past the speed limit by .1737382 miles

- Lucifer is convinced Mammon can’t drive but Mammon is convinced Lucifer can’t drive and both are backseat drivers

- Mammon used to dine and dash until he worked in a restaurant… yeah he doesn’t do that at all anymore

- finally, all of the brothers have this secret part of the hol that they think no one else knows about but they actually all use the same space just ALWAYS at different times

[unholyhelbig]

any chance for a kate x reader angst?

Title: Firecrest (Part 1/???)

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4075

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual activities, fire, mentions of childhood abandonment, horrible grammar (I don't proofread lol), and things I'm sure I'm forgetting.

[A/n: how about enemies to lovers angst? How about Enemies to lovers with a little fake dating sprinkled in there? Let me know if this is something you all would like to see continued!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Your mother had the in-depth beauty of a street dog. Her features were angular, yet soft and welcoming. People were often tempted to reach and run their fingers through her fur. But she tended to gently correct. She had the perfect demeanor for a government spy. However, you had always known her as a brilliant biochemist. Alluring in her brilliance.

The soft lights of the city shaded her face in the back of the taxi. The air had warmed significantly, but the low hum of the air conditioner made you pull your suit jacket close to your breast. The maroon had felt like too much at first. But the impressed nod from the woman next to you was enough to ebb away any doubts.

Your mother popped open her compact and swiped her finger against the corner of her mouth, taking away the smudged gloss that wasn’t noticeable in comparison to her presence. There was not much you feared in this world, but her wrath. Her annoyance. Her disappointment. None of which she flashed often.

“Remember what we talked about, y/n.”

“Of course. Would you like me to repeat it?”

She snapped the compact and leveled you with amusement. Her eyebrow lifted, the start of a smile at the corner of her lip. She couldn’t be serious. You made eye contact with the taxi driver in the mirror. He showed the same amusement that your mother did, yet somehow, hers stung more.

A groan escaped you, but bled into the mantra that was drilled into you for the past two weeks. “I will be the perfect lady who is grateful for the success of Lance and his political circuit.”

“And?”

“I will not start anything I can’t finish with Katherine Elizabeth Bishop, And I’m an adult perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“That wasn’t part of it.” Your mother corrected softly. Her hands were suddenly on you, smoothing down the lapel of your suit. “But It’ll do. Mostly, because we’re here.”

Eleanor Bishop often held her galas in the historic buildings of downtown Manhattan. There were small pamphlets lingering by the extensive hand-carved doors. They’d detail the rich family that had built it from the ground up. The architecture was always admittedly beautiful, and Eleanor had a subtle, expensive taste.

This venue was no different; stretching hallways and men in suits that mirrored yours in a tasteful black. Your mother never stepped ahead of you, instead holding a hand out and helping you from the back of the taxi. You’d left a generous tip, careful not to shove your hands into your pockets.

“This used to be a museum for fine arts and culture. The last I heard; the city was going to tear it down but made it a historical site. They use it for banquets now, I suppose.”

“Oh? You’ve read the informational booklet, then?”

She jabbed her elbow into your ribs and mocked a scowl. “No. I robbed it. How do you think we paid for your college tuition, kiddo?”

That was an exaggeration. You were 90% sure- maybe 75%. Bobbi Morse was a force to be reckoned with, and that was something you had learned from a young age. She’d let you sit on the counter of her lab while she worked, and you’d watch her with absolute awe.

Your mother had taught you, without fail, a variety of fighting skills. Starting with Aikido and ending with Taekwondo. She was a master at her craft, both in the field and in her lab and had worked with you since you could walk to train you in the same.

“Mm,” You hummed your response, “Which priceless painting did you take?”

“It was a vase, smart-ass.”

You pulled in a breath to retort before effectively being rendered silent by the performance hall. Eleanor Bishop had gone all out for the benefits that she backed. This was a vast space that was adorned in white sheer and glittering lights. A slideshow of the sponsored bird sanctuary flashed on the televisions scattered throughout the space.

There was a band on the stage, string instruments that you could feel in the center of your chest. The low notes shuddered through you as you took in the crowd. There were few that you actually recognized, usually hazed in expensive alcohol and lingering by the food, or some form of fresh air.

“It’s ironic that it’s about birds, right?”

She leveled you with an unimpressed look and squeezed your shoulder fondly. It didn’t take long for Lance to make his way over to the both of you. His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his freshly-shaved face. He gave you a small wave, gently exiting the conversation he was having with a congressman, a millionaire, or an architect that was just the right amount of desperate.

Lance Hunter had stolen your mothers heart when you were ten years old. You always assumed it was the accent, but the more you got to know him, the more you understood his charms. Lance had never forced things with you, had never claimed to be your father.

There were quiet moments when he’d join you on the wrap-around porch of your family home and just sit. The two of you would watch the way the sun dipped behind the horizon, sipping on syrupy cans of soft drink. Eventually, you talked to him, and he listened with diligence.

“My girls,” he said, placing a chaste kiss against your forehead before sidling up next to Bobbi. They had effortlessly matched in a deep and royal blue that contrasted the ignited red of your own suit. You were the perfect epitome of a political family.

Eleanor Bishop had given you a brief nod of the head, signifying your presence. It was a silent warning told through blackened eyes: Behave.

Her diligent attention was enough to split your family up. You preferred to linger away from the stuffy socialites. Bobbi and Lance were required to mingle. You plucked a flute of bubbling champagne from a passing tray and moved towards one of the elegant support beams decorated with what you now learned, was real foliage.

The floral scent tickled the back of your throat, so you took a generous swallow and let the alcohol warm your stomach diligently. There had to be something interesting around here, away from the rest of the party. A plague or two that would further explain the venue.

A burst of forced laughter greeted your parents as they sidled up next to Jack and Eleanor. Lance had produced some campaign buttons, which the group took without hesitation. You had to admit, he was loveable and politician-worthy.

“Look at us, we match.”

You swallowed back a groan, not bothering to look over. A small noise still escaped you, and the grumble conveyed your exact disposition towards Kate Bishop. Disgust. Annoyance. The slightest bit of attraction. She overwhelmed your senses with her crisp, winter scent.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you glanced over at her. She was in red too, incredibly vibrant against her soft expanses of exposed skin. The dress had a dipping neckline, revealing the freckles that created constellations against her collarbone. She beamed with irritation. You’d never admit that she was captivating.

“I thought you were given explicit instructions to leave me be.” You said between gritted teeth.

She hummed and grasped the drink from your hand. Kate was calculated in her movements, wrapping her lips around the smudge of lipstick that you’d already created on the rim of the glass. She didn’t break eye contact, those slate orbs boring into you.

“We both know you’re the most interesting thing at these parties.”

“I’m not falling for your… charms, Kate Bishop. Your mother may have bought you out of our consequences last time. But, I have more at stake.”

She scoffed and set the now empty glass down on the nearest table. You knew damn well that Kate wasn’t absolved of accountability after your run-in a few months back. She held herself differently now, and it was a minute expression of her posture that caught your attention.

There was a small split at the corner of her lip, and a healing bruise just at her hairline. She’d attempted to use makeup to cover the abrasions, but you had a trained eye. You were your mother’s daughter. These were defensive wounds. And for just a moment, you worried that the Bishop’s had a heavier hand than you’d anticipated.

But then, Kate’s muscles flexed and her head lilted to the side, dark curls splaying over her shoulders. She had grown stronger. It wasn’t noticeable, or at least, it shouldn’t’ have been. But you knew every inch of her body and despite your forced separation, she’d grown steady of herself.

“Why should I be punished, when you’re the one who set the curtains ablaze.”

You leaned close enough to feel her body heat. To her credit, she didn’t step back. A ghost of a smirk was on her lips. You snarled your words. “And who’s fault was that?”

“I don’t see how I was supposed to know you’d get trigger happy with your powers when I went down on you.” She gave you a cocky pout. “Is that a new thing, or have you never been able to handle yourself in moments of pleasure?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from grasping at the strap on her dress, pulling her closer to you out of a burst of anger. The phantom look of confidence spread into a full-blown grin. You were exasperated, the familiar heat burning just under your skin.

It was true, you’d lost control for just a moment, with Kate Bishops head between your legs, one hand buried deep in her mess of tangled hair. As an orgasm washed over you, thighs shaking, your other hand had drifted too close to the drapes and had caught them ablaze.

Despite the both of you being adults, you were separated within an instant. Dragged embarrassingly away by your respective parental units after the fire was put out. The last you’d seen of her was reflected with the flashing red lights of a rumbling fire engine.

Kate had a devilish look in her eyes. “Harder, baby.”

“Ladies,”

It was a resolute sound that had you pulling apart as if she was a toxic entity. In your book, she was. Both hands landed in your pockets and the two of you looked sheepishly at Eleanor. She’d been keeping an eye on you, you were sure. And had made a direct line to you the second Kate had given you that salacious look.

“Good evening, Mrs. Bishop. It’s a pleasure to see you.”

Kate coughed out something that sounded like ‘Kiss ass’ and covered it up with a doe-eyed look of innocence. She may not have been afraid of her mother, but you were terrified. Bobbi had a soft hand. It commanded you like a weapon, and you were happy to do what you were told.

Your own punishment had consisted of heavier training. Both mentally and physically to perfect control that you’d had mastered years ago when you were nothing but a girl with streaks of tears dripping from your chin. The fire had been too strong then, overwhelming and horrible.

“Good evening, Miss Morse, I trust you’ve found a way to entertain yourself during the benefit that isn’t antagonizing my daughter.” Before you could answer, she turned her attention to Kate. “And you. I specifically allowed you to bring a guest in attempts to keep you away from Bobbi’s little arsonist.”

She had been under the full impression that you’d taken a zippo to the hanging drapes. It was the white-hot flames that leaked from your own fingers that had done the damage. Kate was thankfully tight-lipped about the fact, and you let the socialite think whatever she wanted. She hadn’t pressed charges.

Kate pulled her shoulders back, almost looking offended at the name you were tagged with. Almost. “Clint got stopped at the front for an autograph, mom. I’m just biding my time.”

“Bide it somewhere else. We’ve talked about this.”

Eleanor gave you a tight-lipped smile that had noticeably softened compared to the venomous expression she held for Kate. A light squeeze was delivered to your arm. It had always scared you how quick she could switch like that. Her shoulders pulled back as she wandered back over to her group.

Lance lifted his chin in your direction. Silently asking if everything was okay, and it was. His quiet reassurance brought the heat licking at your stomach to a bubbling halt. Why you cared more about Eleanors disposition towards Kate, then her acidity directed at you, was beyond something you were willing to confront.

“Who’s Clint?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Can we have a normal conversation, please. Is it so shocking that I’d take interest in your friends?”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Yes. If you must know, he’s not a friend. He’s a mentor. He’s, my partner.”

Both of your eyebrows lifted. Partner in what? It wasn’t something you would audibly voice, save you show any concern past the normal amount that you usually had for Kate. The tautness of her muscles, and the superficial injuries made that discomfort return to the pit of your stomach.

Kate was an archer. You knew such from the trophies that littered her dresser the one time you’d been privy to her room. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid much attention. You were backed against her door and her teeth were scraping against your pulse point. But the little gold figures and the child-sized bow on the wall was enough to of a giveaway.

You only knew one archer, and you knew him distantly; from photos that your mother had blacked out with a sharpie. She’d later told you that she regretted the fact because the memories of the three of you would always remain.

The taste of bile filled your throat and Kate lilted her head to the side, like a golden retriever that had heard a piercing noise. There was a surprising amount of concern in her voice. “You okay? You’re looking a little green.”

“Hm? Yeah. Totally. The champagne is just sitting weird.”

A frown had found its way onto your face, and you directed your attention back to the crowd. It seemed that Eleanor was satisfied enough with the two of you lingering in silence. You were trained to know where the exits were in any venue. Kate’s stare shockingly darted in the same pattern as your own.

People had trickled in until the floor was bustling with conversation. You let your shoulders relax in the slightest bit, swallowing back the acrid taste in your mouth. Eleanor had lost her viewpoint of you and her daughter, and you weren’t much in the mood for fighting her on pure proximity.

“There you are, god, I didn’t know this many people cared about birds.”

This time, you couldn’t stop your narrowed eyes from flashing to the intrusion. Whatever distracted Kate was enough to be deemed a savior in your book. But the voice was familiar, painfully so. It was as if your body reacted by busting out in goosebumps, chills rushing down your spine.

Now, you wanted your mother to be able to see you. You were a strong, and capable adult that knew at least six different ways to kill a person without a weapon. You’d gone on missions with your mother, with your Aunt Daisy, too. A simple man in a simpler suit should not make your knees weak.

Yet- here he was. In a charcoal black ensemble with a pocket square that was a flash of purple. It was a color you’d grown to despise. It was an eyesore, as was the man that stood at a height taller than Kate, but just a few inches.

You’d found a singular picture of him that wasn’t defaced in your mother’s nightstand. A polaroid of the three of you on the beach. The sun had turned your cheeks a flushed pink. He had you in his arms and beamed at the camera. Eyes matching the blue of the ocean.

They were the same now, the same vibrancy that you’d thought about. He looked other, worn from parenthood and the effects of time. Of course, you’d seen him on television, but Bobbi had always been quick to flick it off, only lingering during the Sokovia accords.

His mouth fell open in disbelief, but you were careful to keep your jaw stock still. You weren’t going to give Clint Barton the satisfaction of rattling you. Not here, not if he ever decided to show up when you had a family of your own. Not on your deathbed. He couldn’t invoke that from you.

Kate had learned to pick up on body language, and she had learned fast. Her stare shifted between both you, and Clint. She had the right amount of perception to keep her mouth shut, even taking half an inch step back. She was in a position to hold the two of you apart, if need be.

“Holy shit,” He breathed out, “Sparky.”

“Don’t call me Sparky.”

You were taken aback by your own ability to produce words. They were pinched and had dropped down an octave to true anger. Not the type that Kate Bishop was used to. Sure, you had aggravation directed towards her, but nothing short of teasing.

Clint took a slight step towards you, and you took a large one back, nearly bumping into the support beam wrapped with vines and vibrant flowers. Your hand reached out to grab onto it for support, but Kate’s fingers wrapped gently around your wrist. Right. Yes. That would be the safe bet.

You needed to find Bobbi.

Chances were, Clint hadn’t seen her with the growing attendance. You could slip out through the large storm doors that were a few feet behind you. At least then, you could burn scorch marks into the grass and not into this historical building.

“What is happening?” Kate said, refusing to remove her hand from your wrist. You didn’t wrench it away, either. It was a force, a grounding factor. You refused to let the fire move past your fingertips in fear that it would burn her. “Clint?”

“She uh… She’s…”

The words died in his throat. You couldn’t’ stand looking at him, pale as ice and wringing his hands nervously. He couldn’t hold still, but you were like a stone. Almost as if he would vanish the second you averted your stare.

“I’m his daughter.”

Kate’s hand did move from your wrist and to your hand, almost out of instinct. Your relationship, or lack-there-of, had never required this kind of closeness. But She was hanging on tightly, nails digging into your skin. The slight sting brought you back.

Clint croaked “How’s your mother?”

Kate winced and you felt the spring in your spine loosen. He was more nervous than you were and that gave you an advantage. “You can ask her yourself. She and Lance are mingling.”

“Lance is here?”

“Of course.”

He was running for congressman. It would damage his campaign if he hadn’t shown up. The gossip blogs that followed the lives of New Yorks Elite had picked up on the rift between you and Kate. There were a few grainy photos of the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, wrapped in foil blankets that made you look like Baked potatoes. There was soot on her chin, and you had wiped the darkness away with your thumb. Of course, that had been the moment they caught and wrote about, and plastered all over the internet.

Clint worked his jaw and cupped the back of his neck with a tepid smile. It wavered incessantly. He was boyish in his charm and that would always be the case, no matter how old he got. You knew he had a family now. A real family that didn’t’ consist of a secret agent and their match-happy daughter.

You gave Kate a squeeze with your free hand, signaling that you were fine. The last thing you wanted to appear was weak. She seemed to get the message loud and clear, wrenching her touch away with a nervous clearing of her throat.

“I’m sorry… Can we back up for a second?”  

Clint had a dejected look in his eyes that almost made you feel a twinge of guilt. Almost. Your own ego often got in the way of things, and this was one of them. There was a flood of emotions between both of the archers, a silent pleading to hear him out.

“You and Mrs. Morse dated?”

“They were married.” You snatched another glass of campaign, this one all for yourself. You swallowed the acrid drink and let the bubbles assault your throat. “When did the divorce finalize, again?

“Y/n”

“No, I was never really privy to the details myself.”

“We shouldn’t do this here.”

You finished off the rest of the drink, a certain amount of your defenses lower. You felt warm, but not warm enough to do something stupid. He was right. You shouldn’t do this here and if you had your way, you wouldn’t’ do it anywhere. You were perfectly content to let this man slip back into oblivion and train the Bishop heiress that you had a habit of bedding.

Clint seemed to let out a sigh of relief when you nodded in agreement. He scrutinized you both, the rush of initial shock ebbing away like a melting lake. Chunks of ice broke off and gave way to the familiarity and closeness the two of you held. It was relaxed, despite the rivalry that landed you here in the first place.

“No,” he drawled out, “No, no, no. Kate, you didn’t’.”

The tips of her ears were red enough to match your suit and the color that painted her own lips. She hid her face in her hands with a groan. But you wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her against your side.

“Does that bother you, old man?”

It clearly did. Kate leveled you with a delicious glare that was unmatched but didn’t’ move from your hold. Was she letting you have this? You weren’t entirely sure. He was whipping his head back and fourth with enough force to break his own neck. It was making you dizzy, but giddy all the same.

Your moment of joy at his dismay was short lived. You caught the sharp scent of your mothers perfume. She’d cut through the crowd and furrowed her brow at your closeness to Kate. It took her a few moments to realize that Clint was here. To realize that he was the man that had spurred your act of rebellion in doing the exact opposite of what she’d requested at the start of the night.

Her cool eyes took him in just as yours had. Kate was still next to you, swallowing a dryness in her throat that you could nearly hear. Bobbi didn’t attempt to separate you as Eleanor had. Instead, she gave you a quiet stare. “Darling, I think it’s time we go. There’s a situation we have to attend to.”

“Of course. It’s been a pleasure.”

It hadn’t been, but you shocked yourself and Kate by leaning in and pressing a kiss just behind her ear, still blazing with blush. She froze but gave you the slightest bit of nod. Clint opened and closed his mouth like a surfaced fish, but kept quiet.

Your mother walked with a purpose, her shoulders pulled back and an elegance to her sway. You didn’t look back, keeping time with her as she weaved through the crowd and towards the lobby that was ten degrees cooler and much, much more welcoming.

“Is there actually a situation, or is this your attempt at a rescue?”

She ignored your question, stopping and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a soft look in her eyes that made your stomach squirm. “Are you okay, sweetie? I had no idea that he’d be here. I never would have made you come.”

“I’m fine, mom.” She didn’t seem convinced, so you added “Really.”

Eventually, Bobbi relented with a shaky sigh and cupped your cheek in a comforting manner. “Good. Okay. Good. Because we do have a situation.”

[loveshotzz]

you look pretty like this

bouncer!steve x fem!reader whatta man blurb

summary: Steve comes upstairs after a bad night at The Foxy Lounge.

warnings: 18+ dirty talk, oral male receiving, swallowing, boot riding 😈

word count: 1.4k

authors note: the blurb i wanted to win the poll so i wrote it too! this is part of my 90’s au Whatta Man but you don’t have to read to enjoy. Just know you live above the bar Steve bounces for.

Steve finally looked less pissed than when he stormed in earlier, his half lidded eyes staring down at you from between his legs. The pink glow from The Foxy Lounge sign illuminates his bronzed summer skin in a way that makes your thighs press. The haze from the smoke billows out from between his lips and softens the room while one big hand reaches down to cup your cheek. The pad of his thumb brushing away the tear that escapes from the corner of your eye as you open your throat up more for him.

“Mouth like a fuckin’ champion, honey. You like suckin’ me off like this huh?” He coos leaning back a little to get a better look at you.

You nod your head the best you can while you hum around the thickness of his cock that bullies your gag reflex. The vibrations make him groan loud enough that anyone outside the bar downstairs can hear.

He hollows out his cheeks taking another long drag, his hips bucking when your tongue traces the protruding vein that runs up the side. His leaky tip twitches in your mouth with his release just begging to come out.

“So fuckin’ good for me, makin’ my bad night better.” His words are sweet but the fist that tangles in your hair is a little mean.

His half smoked cigarette dangles from his bottom lip while his eyebrows pinch together to meet in the middle, the ash at the end dangerously close to falling on your bed.

You release him from your mouth with a loud pop, a string of spit keeping you connected when you look up at him with big eyes. He loved when you did that. Your hand wraps around the base, squeezing with just enough pressure to make a heavy breath exhale through his nose.

“You gonna ash that?” You ask a little bratty, swiping your thumb over his slit making him hiss.

His white undershirt sits pushed up just below his belly button, a trail of thick chestnut hair leading to an even fuller chest, the muscles in his abdomen flex when you do it again.

His lips twitch around the butt before he leans back with narrowed eyes. Long fingers reaching up to make the cigarette look small when it gets nestled between them. He flicks the excess off into the ashtray you got for the days it was always just “the one” swearing he’ll quit again tomorrow.

You keep working him at a slow pace, your wrist moving at just the right rhythm to make him grunt. His legs shift slightly so one big boot finds a new home between your knees. The wet patch in your underwear becoming uncomfortable when you think of sitting on it, your body desperate for any kind of friction.

Resting on his elbows, he takes another long drag, doing his best to play it cool while his dark stare fixates back on you.

“Happy?” The question comes out around a cloud of smoke and you have to suppress your moan when the toe of his boot accidentally ghosts against your clit.

“Mmmhmm” you manage to get out.

His brows raise as he clocks the way your lashes flutter and the power in your movements falter for a split second, something devilish taking over his handsome features when he figures it out.

“Getting tired baby?” He grins, biceps straining when he takes another drag. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Your walls clamp around nothing but his words while your eyes lock with the smugness taunting you in his. Holding his gaze you lick a broad stripe up his length, relishing in the way it’s makes him twitch in your hands with a low ‘fuck’ escaping him. You tease him slowly with your tongue, exploring every ridge standing at attention for you before bringing the intensity of your mouth back down to wrap around him. It shuts him up for a second while you try to regain control.

“Does it look like I’m tired?” You ask pulling away just enough for your lips to ghost against the sensitive skin.

You weren’t looking for a real answer, and he knew that, but it didn’t stop him from trying. Whatever comeback he has dies before it has a chance to come out when you take as much of him as you can. Only stopping when he hits that part of your throat that’ll be bruised in the morning.

“Jesus-fuck, honey.”

The corners of your lips twist up around him, more than pleased when his fingers find their way back into your hair. You hum in approval, encouraging him to give in as both your hands find purchase against the dark denim that still covers half his thighs. The muscles dance under your touch, ruining the cotton between your legs even more. He was getting close.

Steve thinks he might be meeting god tonight when you somehow take him deeper, your nose to hitting the rough patch of hair that frames his base. Your tongue works overtime to cover every inch of him you can reach. Breathing through your nose, you start a slow bob up and down his length, only releasing him half way before sucking him right back into the tight heat of our mouth.

You can’t smell the cigarette anymore and it makes you wonder if it was enough for him to put it out.

The saltiness of his precum hits your tongue, and you start to feel like you’ve won, especially when you reach down to massage his balls. One large hand hitting the mattress in response, your name coming out in a mixture of bliss and agony with a buck of his hips.

“Y-you’re so good to me, I don’t wanna be the only one that gets to cum baby.” He sounds the sweetest he’s been all night, and you almost fall for it until the toe of his boot returns with pointed pressure against your bundle of nerves.

You moan loudly, almost letting him slip from between your lips when he keeps it there. He holds it, daring to apply even more pressure till your resistance gives and your hips start rolling against him. The drag against your clit is electric, and the dirtiness of it all has you the wettest you’ve ever been. Saliva drips down his cock as everything starts getting messier. Both of you getting closer.

Tears prick at the corners of your closed eyes, and he can feel the way your body shudders at the new sensation. You whimper around him when he starts kicking his boot up to meet each of your short thrusts. His own hips create a pace that has his eyes threatening to roll back, but he’s trying to take a mental picture of how you look right now.

“Needy girl just wanted my boot huh?” The smugness from before returns when he notices how you stop fighting for control. All your shame is gone while your body chases your impending orgasm. Too wrapped up in how good it feels to fight anymore, you whimper when the rubber of his sole rubs your clit just right.

“You gonna swallow what I give you while you make a mess all over my boot?” His words only spur you on more, your grinding picking up more speed. “You gonna be good?”

You nod hollowing your cheeks, finding the focus to open up your throat even more to take him to the hilt while the beginnings of your release start to wash over you in waves. You palm at his sensitive balls begging him for his.

“God, angel. I’m gonna fuckin cum watching you like this. Fuck- such a fuckin’ dirty girl. Cover my boot, I wanna walk back down stairs with it shinin’.”

He’s a babbling mess, the blunt ends of his nails scratching into your scalp when you feel him twitch against your tongue. Your body shakes as the coil inside you snaps at the same time he starts spilling white hot against the back of your throat. You try to swallow as much of it as you can while it drowns out your moans, but it’s too much and it comes sputtering out the sides of your mouth.

It dribbles down your chin when you finally release him, your eyes daring to meet his. The mossy green of them is back, his expression no longer hard but soft and exhausted. A lazy satisfied grin spreads across his face, as he runs a hand through his hair putting the fly away back into place.

The pad of his thumb swipes at what you missed before he brings it up to your lips.

“Thank you baby.” His pearly whites show in a devastating smile when you do as he asks with tear stained cheeks, your wollen lips wrapping around him to suck him clean.

You looked so pretty like this.

[tiredfox64]

BI HAN X FEM FIGURE SKATER READER?? I man cold man..reader who's constantly in the cold come onnn

History Maker

Prior notes: Of course I see it, I THOUGHT OF IT BEFORE! Also no one call me out on the title.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Figure Skater! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: I’m holding onto the edge I can’t skate

Liu Kang has gained all his champions, you being one of them. You would have never guessed that your ice skating skills made you a potential fighter. Your flexibility, the ability to stay stable and balanced, strong legs, and grace were all aspects of a great fighter. Liu Kang has made no mistake. You might doubt yourself but he sees potential in you. You just need the right mentor.

That’s why Liu Kang unexpectedly dropped in to see Bi-Han and ask him to be your mentor. Bi-Han questioned why he didn’t send you to the Wu Shi Academy with everyone else. The answer is simple, Artika is a better environment for you. Liu Kang has already allowed you to mess around in the area. Bi-Han was not happy with Liu Kang making a decision without consulting him. He got up and told the fire god to show him where you were.

It didn’t take long for them to find you. They followed the music that was coming from the frozen lake. Bi-Han makes his way toward you with annoyance before turning into curiosity.

You moved so gracefully on the thick ice. Your skates left marks on the frozen lake and left bits of shaved ice behind. It was surprising to see you weren’t wearing extra layers. All you had on was a long-sleeved shirt, bootcut pants, and mittens. Gotta keep yourself from getting hypothermia. You started sliding backward on the ice without even looking. You took a deep breath before launching yourself into the air. You spun quickly. One revolution, two revolution, three revolution, four revolution! Four revolutions before you landed on the opposite foot. You kept moving on like you didn’t do a lutz jump. A jump that many would cheat at. Not you, because you’re that good. So good that you caught the eye of the Lin Kuei’s grandmaster.

The cherry on top was when you finished off your routine by doing a camel spin. You lifted your left leg to make a perfect 90-degree angle as you spun on the other leg. You looked so graceful, you were unlike anything Bi-Han had seen. You lowered your leg and brought yourself to a stop. You noticed Liu Kang was nearby watching you with a proud smile on his face. Bi-Han was next to him, staring in awe but it was hard to tell since his eyebrows were still furrowed. You skated up to Liu Kang and asked who Bi-Han was.

“This is the Lin Kuei’s grandmaster, Bi-Han. I was hoping he would mentor you if he so desires.” Liu Kang looked at Bi-Han for confirmation. After what he saw he already made a decision.

“She has potential. It is clear to me that she will fit right in.”

His stance on you changed pretty quickly. He would have refused to deal with you if he didn’t see your wonderful display of skills. But now that he has seen, he can’t let you go.

You were fine with working with him. You just had one condition. You wanted to use the lake whenever you wanted so you could keep skating.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Your time with the Lin Kuei was beneficial. Actually your time was mostly spent with Bi-Han.

The environment was perfect for you. A frozen lake that you could use every day to practice skating. The ice was so thick you never feared falling through. Even if there was a risk, Bi-Han was always there to watch you. He enjoyed watching every special jump or spin you could do. Not only was it impressive but it was majestic. That doesn’t distract him from the fact that he is supposed to be training you.

One of your strengths, as he pointed out through observations, was your flexibility. You could make a straight line with your legs while standing on one foot. You could do a split with no struggle. You could almost make your foot touch your head while standing on one leg. That one is his favorite stretch since it allows him to get close. He liked to “check your form” which meant he’d come up to place a hand on your waist and your thigh. You might have felt him squeeze your thigh once or twice but you weren’t sure. You were more focused on keeping your balance.

You two were very compatible, not much of a shock there. It was a deadly duo that consisted of ice. He can control ice; you can control yourself on ice. A clever trick you guys could perform is when Bi-Han made a path of ice that you can skate on quickly before kicking your opponent at the last second. It catches everyone off guard with how fast you came towards them. It was fun to do, you can’t lie about that.

It became a habit for you two to take walks. You would skate on the ice while he would walk around the lake’s edge. Some of those walks would be quiet, other times you would go on about how you have improved both in skating and fighting. Once in a while when you were close to him he would take your hand and make you do a spin. The first time he ever did that to you, you tried your hardest to stop yourself from giggling. It was romantic you can’t act like he didn’t charm you in that moment. He liked getting a look an all-around look at you.

There was nothing that Bi-Han wanted more than to have you for himself. There was no other woman in his life that had drawn him in like you had. The compatibility when it came to fighting already made him see you as a worthy partner. Ever since the first time he laid eyes upon you, he wanted you. Your beauty and grace were that of a swan’s, but you had the strength and control of a warrior. You were also someone who didn’t pull away from his touch. Not a flinch or a shiver. You acted as if his body wasn’t cold. To you he never was. You never felt like his personality was cold either since he treated you better than everyone else.

The tournament was soon, meaning you wouldn’t need training anymore. It would be nice to return home once the tournament was over but at the same time, you didn’t want to leave. You adjusted to Artika quickly. You fell for Bi-Han quickly. You didn’t want to leave this all behind. Neither did Bi-Han. Perhaps it’s best to establish a relationship now before it’s too late.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You were on your usual walk, him walking at the side while you skated on the lake. You were in your usual spunky mood. You were spinning and giggling as you glided. It didn’t show on Bi-Han’s face but he was thoroughly enjoying you enjoyment.

“I never asked you before, but is there anyone waiting for you back home?” He asked.

“Just my family. But they rarely see me anyways, so this doesn’t make a huge difference.” You replied.

“There is no one back home that is lucky to have you for themselves?”

You knew what he meant by that. He was asking if you were dating anyone. You grew excited by this, in hopes of him wanting to ask you out.

“Nope, no one is lucky. Why do you ask?” You spun around with a smile on your face as you waited for Bi-Han’s answer.

“No reason.” He replied bluntly.

He kept walking before taking your hand into his. He spun you around to face forward again. You thought you made the wrong assumption until you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders. He never let go of your hand. He doesn’t want to let go.

Bi-Han’s not gonna ask you out in the usual way. This is his way of asking you out and making you his girlfriend. His hands are on you, that’s enough to prove that you are his. That move he just pulled was weirdly smooth and slick like ice. Don’t expect less from him. Just appreciate that he did this for you. For his new, special, gorgeous, and talented girlfriend.

After notes: You know I started this and then I didn't know what I was doing. I added the audio cause I felt like it worked idk you don’t have to work with that. I'm hoping I made some sense. If I didn't...damn. Adiós!

[icarusredwings]

Bi bi bi

Tw: hate talk, internalized Homophobia, Wades being a little pushy, but he's in good spirit. He wouldn't actually force someone to admit it if they didn't want too.

Thinking about Logan still being internally homophobic (towards himself) and despite all the stuff he does with Wade he tells people he's not gay and he likes women, etc.

This, of course, doesn't upset Wade that much because she can definitely be a woman, but wants Logan to be able to comfortably tell himself that hes not straight because theres nothing wrong with that and honestly he dosn't understand how someone with so much truama/drama between Scott and Jean could think of themsleves as straight to begin with.

"What about that time on the couch? Or the shower?? Or when I-"

"Those don't count."

"Not sure how giving me the biggest load in my life doesn't count, but alright."

"I'm just not gay, Wade. I mean.. It's cool if you are, but I'm straight."

"Ppfft yeeaaahh okay, pal. And I'm Michelle Obama. And I'm not gay, I'm pan! There's a difference, bucko."

"Oh... well...Besides. We were drunk. So those times don't count."

"Logan....you pounced on me after a single beer.."

"So?"

"You told me that you love me and would crawl through broken glass for me."

"I didn't mean it literally. Just.. roomates."

"GASP... And they were room mates.."

"....Who are you talking to?"

It gets to the point Wade insists that if he's afraid of the label, then the worst he could do is try it for 90 days and then return it.

"Im not afraid of being called gay, Wade its just not true."

"Pussy..."

"Fine!"

This meaning, He could try 'being gay' as he puts it for 3 months like a free trial. Wade promises that he won't tell a soul if the three month mark comes, and Logan truly decides it's not for him. Nothing they've done as a couple would matter and he'll even help him find a bad bitch.

So they do.

Wade treats Logan like a boyfriend, holding his hand in public, still giving him the best head, kissing Logan whenever he'll let him, gets him flowers, tries to make him dinner, folds his laundry, etc. Not much changes actually, but its enough for Logan to notice how "coupley" they already were. And it makes him feel stupid for not seeing it earlier.

His face is red constanlty, his chest is always beating so fast, he's overwhelmed with love. (Literally mauling wade because of it and he didnt scold him, if anything the freak enjoyed his outbursts) Despite everything...

It only takes Logan 3 days to realize... "aw.. shit..." He's not straight. No where fucking near it. Cause if he catches Wade walking around shirtless after working out one more time, he might just have to marry him.

Because not only is he sure this is the best head and ass he's ever gotten, he likes the way Wade holds him after, he likes how much he kissed him, He likes the way he calls him 'pretty kitty' late at night, he likes the way Wade sleep talks, he likes the weird way he puts away the dishes, he likes that Wade took 5 year showers and always came out complaining about the water preasure, he liked how respectful he was to the bodgea and local shop owners.

He loves the way Wade will wear anything and look good in it, but hates just how scared he was to take off his mask. He loves seeing those beautiful yellow eyes and the way his scars reflect the light. Like his own personal sunsets. He loves the way Wade could talk to him for hours and not get bored. He loved the way Wade would come home and slump on him with a big groan because work sucks. He loved how sickly romantic he was (and hated it at the same time)

He loved.. Wade.

"Wade... I think Im bi.."

"Bi bi bi!" He does a dance almost out of instict.

Logans eyebrows scrunch, both disgusted and confused. "What the fuck was that?"

"Don't know. Strange things come over me. But that's great, honey! Soo.... does that mean?

"Yeah... We're together.."

"As roommates?"

Logan shakes his head and suddenly Wade jumps up excitedly. "FUCK YEAH!!! My boyfriend is the Wolverine!! You're stuck with me now, Peanut!!"

He can't help but smirk, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. "Unfortunately..."

[moraxsthrone]

TITLE — spoiled

PAIRING — dom!sugarbaby!zhongli x sub!sugarmama!f!reader

WC — 4.6k

WARNINGS — nsfw. MDNI. modern au. soft dom/sub dynamic. oral (m. & f. rcv'ing). deepthroat/facefucking. overstim. squirting. creampie.

NOTES — i always said that when (not if) zhongli came home, i would spoil him rotten. i went from having no zhongli to having him at C2 lvl 90 + staff of homa + a 2pc/2pc tenacity/noblesse set, and him being in the top 21% of zl hybrid builds on the NA server, hitting 100k+ dmg...all in less than a month. i've been good to him and he's been soooooo good to me so i wanted to write this as a celebratory, homecoming gift for my long-awaited, highly spoiled geo daddy. thanks to @crystalflygeo for the idea and inspiration! i hope i did it justice! <3

the knock comes so gently you wouldn't have heard it had you not been expecting it.

“come in,” you say, finishing the last piece of paperwork and setting your pen down on your big oak desk.

the heavy door creaks open, zhongli striding in before closing the door behind himself.

“working late again, my lady?” the young man muses with a subtle smile, looking dapper in his favorite armani suit that’s been perfectly tailored to the lean musculature of his frame.

a leaden sigh escapes your lips. “yes, but fortunately i’ve just finished. your timing is impeccable, my dear sir,” you say with a playful lilt while leaning back in your chair. “i presume i’m not the only one since someone else must’ve let you in.”

“your receptionist was just leaving as i arrived.”

“well, now that you’re here, to what do i owe the pleasure?”

“i wanted to thank you again for the handsome topaz cufflinks you procured for me yesterday at that fancy boutique-” he says in his unhurried baritone, fidgeting with one of them. zhongli sounds so commanding without even trying, making your loins stir with want. you’ve taken great pleasure in spoiling him since meeting him a couple months ago, buying him everything he’s had an eye for, as well as a lot of things he hasn’t even asked for…

“i knew you’d appreciate them, what with your exquisite taste…” you interject, admiring the way the dark orange gemstones bring out his eyes. “besides, the color becomes you.”

he smiles back, making him look more boyish. “only someone with a discerning eye for quality and beauty such as yourself would even take me to places that sell such high caliber merchandise.” he walks towards you, leaning against the front of your desk mere inches from where your arm rests. “but i want you to know that i appreciate the little things just as much, if not more so. something as simple as say…” his voice trails for a moment, “...indulging me in afternoon tea means a lot to me.”

“oh? but your company is no small thing, zhongli. i enjoy lavishing you with gifts, of course. but you give me your time and conversation in return, and that is far more valuable to me than any gift i could bestow upon you…”

“you sure?” 

your brow crinkles at his hinting tone. “what do you mean?”

he reaches out with his gloved hand, delicately cupping your jaw as his boyish smile fades. “you’re a very busy lady. your time and attention are in high demand. and yet you decide to give what little of it you have over to me. your time is far more valuable than anything you could possibly buy me, and that’s something for which i could never repay you…”

you raise your eyebrows at him in sincerity. “zhongli. as i’ve already stated, your company is more than enough-”

"my lady," he reaches for your hand and brings your dainty knuckles to his lips. “...if i may?”

your mouth drops open in surprise. though you certainly wouldn’t be opposed to it, you’ve never so much as alluded to the prospect of an intimate relationship with him. you’re beautiful. powerful. but also - as he’s pointed out - very busy, leaving you precious little time for meeting a suitable mate, let alone courting one. so just spending time with zhongli - listening to his captivating stories, admiring his handsome face, hearing his spell-binding voice - has been more than worth any amount of money you could spend on him.

“zhongli, w-what…?” you give into the gentle tug of his hand, standing from your chair to face him. with your hand still in his, he cups your cheek with the other while bringing his lips dangerously close to yours. “zhongli, wait,” you say, catching your breath in your throat before he can take it away. “you don’t owe me anything…”

“perhaps not, my lady,” he says, his thumb stroking your burning cheek. “but i would quite like to give you something anyway.” your eyes search his as he speaks, his gaze so comfortably heavy. “you’re beautiful,” he says, breath fanning across your lips. “you’ve been exceedingly generous to me…and i want to give you what i feel is owed to you…”

“but zhongli,” you try, your voice so small and shaky with desire, “i’ve already said you don’t owe m-”

“forgive my insolence,” he interrupts, not sounding sorry at all, “but allow me to put it this way: i’m going to give you what you deserve.”

his thumb grazes your lower lip, only to trail down the column of your pretty neck as his lips finally and mercifully claim yours. and you give yourself permission to kiss him back. how could you not? of course you’ve never expected anything from him, but you’d be lying if you said you’d never fantasized about kissing him, touching him.

zhongli is incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable, devastatingly handsome, and his voice alone is enough to make your panties wet every time you hear it. in spite of the fact that you’ve been providing for him, it is he who seems to hold some unspoken power over you.

breaking from the kiss, you look up into his amber eyes. “wh-what i deserve?”

without a word he turns you around, your butt now pressing against the edge of your desk.

“by now you must think i’m a weak man…”

you shake your head. “no. i don’t think that at all-”

he places his fingers over your lips. “ah-ah. i wasn’t finished speaking, my lady.”

your eyes widen, filling with lust and desire at his insistent tone. yes. you need this. and he knows it. zhongli isn’t just giving you what you want or deserve; he’s giving you what you need.

“but-”

before you can utter another sound, zhongli spins you around until your hips are pressing against the edge of your desk. you feel his hips press against your bottom, gasping quietly at the unmistakable hard bulge pressing against you.

“zhongli?”

he grinds against you, the force causing the edge of your desk to dig into your hip bones.

“you can feel me, can’t you?” he whispers, his wet lips grazing the edge of your ear. “i’ve wanted you like this all along. does that come as a surprise to you, my lady?”

before you can formulate a response, zhongli’s hands - now naked and warm after having removed his gloves - are running along your bare skin under your pencil skirt until it’s bunched up below your ass cheeks. one of his hands slips between your legs, spreading them apart to slowly make his way up until he feels the moisture between them. 

“it would seem you’ve thought about this before as well,” he deduces, eliciting an affirmative hum from you as a response.

his other hand gently pushes your hair aside to expose the back of your neck and you feel the heat of his breath there as his soft lips ghost over your goosebumped skin.

“you must get so tired of having so much responsibility on you,” he mutters. “wouldn’t it be nice to relinquish control every once in a while?”

his voice alone is enough to easily seduce you. with a small nod, your eyes flutter closed as you fight the chill that wants to run down your spine. “y-yes, zhongli, it’s…” your breath hitches when his thumb brushes your lace-covered clit, “...exhausting sometimes.”

a deep chuckle forms in his throat as he peppers light kisses along the back of your bare neck, pushing the ruffle trim top of your dress off one of your shoulders to expose more of your soft skin.

“then allow me.” grasping the back zipper between his fingers, he pulls it down, taking his precious time undressing you from your collar to your tailbone. “if at any point you want me to stop, just say 'lapis'," he whispers and you agree.

he pushes the sleeves over and off of your arms before unfastening your bra. everything falls to the floor, the expensive material pooling around your feet. having rendered you naked save for your panties and designer heels, he stands back a bit and tells you to turn around and face him. feeling a bit self-conscious, you cover your breasts and bite your lower lip nervously as you follow his order.

“tut-tut.” zhongli shakes his head in mild disapproval. “uncover yourself. i want to see every inch of your gorgeous body.”

you lower your arms, exposing your creamy breasts with pretty, budded nipples and zhongli’s amber eyes seem to glow with arousal. he takes his time looking you up and down, licking his lips, drinking in your form as his hard cock strains against his slacks. 

kissing you as he comes in close again, pulling you in with his hands on your ass to let the clothed head of his cock rub against your panty-clad pussy. you gasp and he grips his own cock through his pants and rubs the head over your hidden clit.

reaching for one of your hands, he places it on his clothed erection, sending a jolt of arousal to your core. “touch me,” he says. "i know you want to."

you nod, giving his girth a tentative squeeze through his expensive slacks. a quiet groan escapes zhongli’s throat as he pushes himself into your hand, watching you with hooded eyes as you palm him. even through the dark virgin wool you can feel that his cock is thick and hot, and you can’t help but clench as you imagine how it would feel to be taken and filled by him.

“get on your knees,” he commands and you obey, putting you at eye level with the wet spot that has formed where his cockhead is pressing against his slacks. “take my cock out.” 

you can hardly believe this is happening. not five minutes ago, you were having an innocent conversation with your platonic sugarbaby. now you’re on your knees, seconds away from freeing his cock and tasting his precum - something you’ve wanted since first laying eyes on him but never thought would become a reality.

your well-manicured hands reach for his belt, unfastening it before opening his pants to free his impressive dick. it’s so pretty - thick and pale with a bulbous tip flushed dark pink and a couple of fat veins running the length of him. you lick your lips and wrap your hand around his silky shaft, so warm and hard. without thinking, you open your mouth to lick his swollen cockhead but he reaches down and stops you with a finger to your chin.

“did you ask for permission to suck my cock?”

his authoritative tone has you soaking through your panties, your own slick coating your inner thighs. “n-no, sir.” zhongli is pleasantly surprised at how effortlessly you’ve stepped into your submissive role. “may i please suck your cock, mister zhongli?” you ask, making his member twitch in your hand.

he gives you a kind, crooked smile. “yes, of course, little one.”

his salty flavor has you clenching around nothing when you drag your tongue from the underside of his cockhead to his slit. you give it a little kiss before swirling your wet muscle around it. “mmm~ you taste so good, mister zhongli…want more.”

“such a greedy slut,” he rasps with a crooked grin. “tell you what - i’ll give you a mouthful of my flavor, but you have to earn it.” he runs his fingers through your hair. “suck my cock well enough and i’ll let you drink as much of my cum as you can handle.”

his words have you eagerly wrapping your lips tightly around him, slowly taking him all the way to the back of your throat to make yourself salivate more. pumping your fist along what you can’t fit in your mouth, pretty soon the room is filled with wet, sucking noises along with the occasional grunt and muffled gag.

with your hand still jerking him, you pull off him with a gasp.

“did i say you could stop?” he rasps, fingers tightening in your hair.

“no, sir.” you barely get the words out before you quickly suck him in again. never before have you enjoyed sucking a cock so much as zhongli’s.

as he watches you bob on him like a cock-hungry whore, zhongli takes off his waistcoat and begins to unbutton the tailored shirt you bought him a couple of weeks ago. he works it off until he’s naked from the waist up. it’s difficult to fully appreciate the sculpt of his perfect body from this angle, but you can make out his chiseled chest and mouth-watering abs, causing you to whimper on his length.

he pets your hair and praises you before resting both his hands on top of your head. he guides your pace slowly at first, working himself deeper, pressing into your throat as he rocks his hips until he’s fucking your mouth. you’re gagging on him, a string of spit and precum hanging from your chin.

“look at me while you’re sucking my dick, little one,” he says, voice still commanding but heavy with lust.

you obey, looking up at him while he admires the way your pretty lips stretch around his wide shaft, traces of your lipstick mixing with your saliva on his skin. it’s hard to see him through the tears that prick at your eyes, but your slick is dripping from your panties onto the floor below. as your fingernails dig slightly into the flesh of his toned thighs, you swear you could cum with his cockhead deep in your throat. 

the way your tears dot your eyelashes makes him suck air through his teeth. “nnfuck~ do you have any idea how pretty you look choking on my cock like this, little one?” zhongli’s hips are rocking steadily, his tight balls touching your chin with every thrust. “such a good fucking girl…are you ready for your reward?”

all you can do is moan, the vibration sending him over the edge. with his fingers tangled in your hair, he presses his patch of black hair against the tip of your nose. fighting to keep his eyes focused on you, zhongli groans loudly, releasing his orgasm down your raw, well-deserved throat.

he pulls out of your mouth, leaving you sputtering and gasping for air. but you’ve loved every second of it. even when he’s forceful, zhongli has a grace about him that’s difficult to describe. but you sense it, you know it when you’re with him like this. “th- *gasp* thank you, m-mister zhongli. thank you f- *cough* for your cum.”

“you did so well, little one,” he groans, tenderly rubbing his thumb over your tear-streaked cheek. collecting some stray semen from your chin, he pushes his thumb between your lips and you suck on it, moaning at the feeling of more of his creamy fluid coating your tongue. “you earned every drop, so don’t waste it.”

your willingness to please, your gratitude, your pliability…they all endear you to him. you may spend your money on him, but he slips into the role of your doting dominant just as seamlessly. he wants to take care of you. to dominate you and reduce you to a babbling mess underneath him, but he wants to care for you and make sure you know you’re safe even more so.

he helps you to your feet before backing you up against your desk. he picks you up, semi-hard cock bouncing with his movements, and sets your ass down on the documents you’d just finished when he came into your office.

“zh-zhongli, the paperwork-”

“my dear, the paperwork should be the least of your concerns right now, but if you must know,” he huffs, pulling your drenched panties down and off your legs, “those documents are as good as ruined…”

before you can protest he curls his hands behind your knees and yanks your ass to the edge of your desk, important forms dragging along beneath you, some fluttering to the floor. now you’re naked, save for your louboutins. zhongli clasps his hands around your ankles and lifts them in the air before bringing his lips to one of them and blazing a long, slow trail along the inside of your leg. 

“but don’t you worry…” he mutters between kisses to your skin, his lust-darkened eyes looking right into yours, “your work will be the last thing on your mind by the time i’m done with you.”

his words, his voice, his gaze…it’s all too much and you shudder under his touch, breathing his name. your hands find his dark brown hair, the long ponytail hanging over his shoulder and tickling your electrified skin as he sucks a bruise into your inner thigh.

zhongli’s hands glide down the length of your legs, spreading them to expose your wet, swollen lips. “your pussy is stunning, my lady. even more beautiful than it smells.” he pushes your knees further back, his softened cock twitching back to life as he watches your folds open for him. he breathes you in, groaning at the pink tip of your hard bud peeking out from between your inner lips. “i’ve been dying to taste you…

“ohhh~” you keen, back arching when you feel the heat of his breath on your neglected sex. “mister zhongli…please~”

“please what?” he grumbles, dark amber eyes peering up at you from between your legs.

“p-please…” you plead, voice meek and submissive, “please lick me…”

without taking his eyes off you, he sticks his tongue out and licks a slow, wide strip over your puffy lips. your hips jolt at the tender sensualilty of his warm, silky muscle touching you where you need him most.

“your flavor…” he moans quietly, “delectable.” he teases his tongue around your hard pearl, swiping slowly between your inner labia to taste more of you. “sweeter and more intoxicating than any wine i’ve had the pleasure of rolling over my tongue…”

already you’re cooing for him and he can’t help but want to hear what other sounds he might be able to pull from you, never mind how much he’s dying to devour you. he swirls his tongue around your tiny, pink erection before wrapping his lips around it and sucking it in against his tongue. immediately your back arches off the desk as you gasp his name, shoving your sex deeper into his mouth. zhongli’s brows furrow as he sucks you in harder with a deep growl. his graceful hands are pushing on the backs of your thighs, pressing you further open to dip his tongue inside your tight hole.

“gahahhh~” you cry out, his nose nudging your throbbing clit as he fucks you with his wet muscle.

he lifts his face from your pussy, glistening with the mixture of your arousal and his spit. you open your eyes but before you can whine in protest, he kisses you, and you moan at the taste of your pussy on his tongue as he presses two expert fingers inside you. you cry into his mouth, the pad of his thumb massaging your clit.

he pulls away, a string of your juices and his saliva connecting your lips. “such a good girl for me,” zhongli pants, drunk on your pussy. he slips his naked shoulders under your thighs, his free hand pushing up over your tummy and ribs to cup your breast and gently squeeze your pebbled nipple. “i think it’s time for another reward, hm?” all you can muster is a pitiful whimper in response as his fingertips find your sweet spot. “but you have to promise to cum for me, little one,” he breathes.

“y-yes, sir…” you all but sing for him, “please, mister zhongli…promise…i promise i'll cum for you~”

a dark smile tugs at his lips as he lowers his mouth to your cunt, sucking your clit into his warm, wet mouth once again. his fingers work you over nicely, tugging vigorously against your g-spot as he rubs his flexed tongue over your hard, pink tip. your orgasm builds slowly, deep in your bones and outward intensely as your fingers curl in his hair and you buck your hips against his face.

“fuck, oh god~” you cry out, only for him to latch on tighter, determined to suck you all the way off and drink down every last drop of your orgasm.

his waiting mouth is filled with your essence as his blunt fingertips dig into the plush of your hips. he drinks you down as best he can as you gush for him, but a fair amount of your liquid escapes his mouth and drips lewdly from his chin. slowly he pulls away, sliding his fingers out of your still-clenching pussy. you’re still too drunk on your high to notice yet, but his cock is in his hand, hard and leaking again. 

“so good…” he drawls, standing and sliding his dark pink cockhead between your wet, slippery folds.

you flinch at the contact. you want it - more than anything - but you’re so sensitive and his swollen tip is driving you mad as it bounces over your poor little clit.

zhongli huffs, his cock momentarily catching on your hole before sliding between your pussy lips again. he knows how overstimmed you must be but he’s too needy to care about that right now. he’s wanted to slip his cock into you for far too long and now that his shaft is sliding between your slippery folds he can’t hold back any longer. 

how many nights and mornings has he thought of you while fucking his own hand until he soiled his sheets with his hot sticky semen? how many afternoons has he returned to his office after enjoying a kettle of tea with you, only to lock his door and pull his cock out of his trousers before jacking off while moaning your name under his breath. too many times he has tried to be quiet while biting his lower lip and whimpering quietly as he filled his own hand with his thick, white cum until it dripped between his fingers onto the wooden floor below.

he leans over you, one hand planted on your desk and the other still guiding his cock, massaging your swollen clit with his thick tip. 

“you’ve been so good to me,” he groans, lust-blown amber eyes looking down at you with fire in them. “you’ve given me everything i’ve wanted and more…” the underside of his hard shaft is gliding noisily between your folds.

“y-you deserve the whole world, zhongli,” you breathe, looking into his eyes. “i adore you…” his eyes soften at your proclamation. he stops moving his hips and kisses you, soft and tender, his tongue rolling slowly around yours before pulling away just enough to look at your beautiful face again, your eyes so full of desire and affection for him. “and i you. please-” he breathes, eyes narrowing and his hips moving again, slowly. “…let me take care of you.” both of your breaths hitch when his cockhead finally presses against your hole and stretches you open.

“nnhh~fuck, zhongli…so good~” you keen, your mouth falling open at the feeling of the soft pop of your pussy as it surrenders to his meaty tip pushing past it, deeper into your wet heat.

“ahh~” he gasps deeply, “y-you…” his head falls to your neck as he works himself in and out, a little deeper each time, “you feel -mmff- perfect~” your warm, soft walls welcome him, yield to him, sucking him in hard as you moan for him.

zhongli's cock is slick and glistening with your need. his hands hold your hips in place as he plunges into you harder, his fingertips dimpling your plush skin. your nose is buried in his hair, breathing in his masculine scent and his deep grunts as he flicks his tongue over your nipple while his naked hips clap against your ass. he rises, yanking your ass to the edge of the desk and holds you there with his hands over your thighs as he drives his length - hard and thick and wet - into your heat. your lover maintains eye contact with you as he puts your ankles on his shoulders, his hands around your hips to hold you in place when he begins thrusting harder.

fueled by your cries of pleasure, zhongli fucks you right. he takes care of you just like he said he would. you can feel the pressure of your everyday obligations lifting from your shoulders with every groan that falls from his lips, every slap of wet skin that fills the walls of your office, every whimper of his name and every growl of yours as he makes you forget that you ever needed to be in charge of anything. zhongli is in control now, pressing his lips to the inside of your ankle while those burning amber eyes stay trained on you. 

you trust him, beyond pleased to finally see this side of him. you had always suspected there was a latent dominant in him, but for him to finally take charge like this - of the situation, of you, of your body - you give it all over to him freely. and you’re rewarded deeply. so relaxed your tits are bouncing, your eyes fluttering and crossing as you feel another orgasm building deep within your core.

zhongli leans forward, holding your legs fast against his chest with one arm while anchoring himself with the other. the pad of his thumb is rubbing your clit, his lips are parted, eyes hooded, his moans mixing with yours as he fucks you so thoroughly and you cry out, “ohh…hnn…ZHONGLI~”, thighs trembling, cumming so hard you spray a little against his taut, sweaty belly, still flexing as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

“oh fuck, so beautiful…” he pants, eyes drawn to the space where your bodies meet, beads of your spend trickling down his abs. your cream coats the base of his cock, glistening in his dark brown patch of hair. he quickly lowers your legs, letting you wrap them around his waist, needing to feel him close as he ruts out the last of himself into you. 

you’re still mindlessly whispering his name against his cheek as his grunts turn into quiet whimpers and his moans become gasps. “nnfuck…get ready to take my cum, little one.” 

you’re fucked out beyond bliss but you manage to breathe out a “yesss…please give me your cum, mister zhongli. need you to fill me up with your hot seed…please, please, please~”

your words send him over the edge, hips plunging hard against you before stilling as his cock throbs inside you to spill the hot, sticky contents of his balls into your readied, welcoming cervix. his thrusts slow and jerk as he fills you completely. 

“want you to take all of me,” he confesses against your cheek, eyes closed and brow furrowed. his hips jerk against you, the last of his sperm spilling from his slit. “want you to have it all. you deserve it.” 

— BONUS ENDING (because i'm a dork and i love zhongli’s quirky sense of humor):

when he’s ready, zhongli pulls his wet, softening cock out and watches with deep satisfaction as his semen leaks from your still-clenching hole to form a thick, creamy puddle on your officially disheveled documents. he laughs under his breath. “looks like this one has my signature now as well.”

zhongli m.list

— please consider reblogging if you're 18+ and enjoyed this. i worked really hard on it. <3