#getting answers about stuff and going wait. WHAT?

[darkmatilda]

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer needs your help examining a crucial piece of evidence...but the moment he sees you, his mind goes blah blah blah...proper name, place name, backstory stuff...

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist! female reader, same reader as in pick your poison but you don’t need to read that first—there aren’t any major references, suggestion that the reader engages in casual hook ups, reader has a belly button piercing and a described outfit, spencer's pov only

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by @trulymadlydarling it was slowly gathering dust in my inbox 😭 sorry!

"I think the threshold of my lab isn't exactly the best place for camping."

A woman's silhouette cast a shadow over Spencer as she appeared right above him in the dimly lit hallway.

Spencer sighed in frustration and hauled himself to his feet. As he brushed off his pants, he kept his eyes off the woman in front of him.

"Well, I didn't think you'd make me wait fifty-eight—"

"Oh, just say the hour. Is rounding numbers really that hard for you?" she scoffed, her voice carrying a trace of genuine curiosity. She swiped her access card, unlocking the door to the lab. With her back turned to him, he took in her appearance—an oversized fur coat draped over her shoulders, a designer handbag hanging from one arm. His gaze drifted downward, and to his surprise, he noticed…pajama pants and slippers?

"You should be grateful I even bothered to show up at this hour," she added.

"This is really important," Spencer replied as she led him inside.

She moved through the space with effortless familiarity, heading straight for the light switch. Well, this was her domain, after all—the place where she spent most of her days.

"I don't care," she replied. "Unless you've found proof that Marilyn Monroe was the Zodiac Killer all along—then, well, I care a little. Honestly, you have no idea how much you owe me for showing up..."

He rolled his eyes.

"Should I be thanking you on my knees, or...?"

"I could have been busy. I could have been out with the girls at a club. I could have been having the night of my life..."

"I get it, you made a huge sacrifice answering my request, but can you now—"

"I could have been in bed already. My own. Or not my own," she glanced at him over her shoulder. "Though in that case, I wouldn’t have picked up."

Spencer simply sighed. By now, he was used to it—the way most of their conversations followed the same pattern. How she always set the pace, steering the direction as she pleased. How she sometimes deliberately ignored his words and didn’t care if it made her seem rude. How, in general, she didn’t care what impression she left on others.

He had witnessed it countless times, found it irritating every single time, and yet—every single time—he kept the conversation going. Funny.

She switched on only one of the lights, leaving the room bathed in a soft twilight. Her handbag landed on the long counter beside one of the microscopes, and she tossed her fur coat next to it, completely unconcerned about knocking something over.

Sometimes, he watched her with quiet fascination—the effortless confidence in her movements—and wondered if she had ever, even once, smacked her hip against a doorframe. Or stubbed her toe on a cabinet. Those small, mundane humiliations and everyday mishaps simply didn’t seem to fit with who she was.

He tightened his grip on the plastic bag he had brought with him, the one containing something that needed to be examined. The team didn’t know about it yet.

The thought, the theory, had quite literally yanked him out of sleep. He couldn’t function without checking this lead immediately. But he knew that if he went through the lab, he’d have to wait until morning for the results…so he decided to ask for a friendly favor.

Okay friendly was a big word.

They had known each other for a few months, worked together on several cases, gone on a date, slept together.

Not necessarily in that order.

He was just about to open his mouth, say something, hand her the bag… when, for the first time, he actually saw her in better light than the dim glow—or rather, lack of it—in the hallway. Against his own will, his gaze started its journey over her.

From the slippers on her feet, up the loose pajama pants that ended just below the piercing in her navel, the black camisole with thin straps, to her face—completely free of makeup.

Until now, he had only seen her in two versions. One was her usual, elegant work attire. The other was her evening look—form-fitting, designed to turn heads and keep them there.

On second thought, there was also a third version. Without clothes.

But he had never seen her like this. Casual, comfortable, dressed for nothing more than wandering the walls of her own apartment.

She lifted her arms to tie her hair into a ponytail, and her shirt rode up slightly.

“If my piercing fascinates you that much, I can give you my piercer’s number,” she offered dryly, a fleeting smirk on her lips as she caught his stare. He immediately snapped his gaze back to her face, cursing internally when he realized he probably looked like he had been caught staring. Which, of course, he hadn’t been. “Excellent work. Full professionalism. Experienced hands…”

"I need you to check this stain," he interrupted, raising the bag.

They had been talking too much, and he really needed to know if his suspicions were correct.

She stepped closer to take the bag from him.

“Is this a crucial piece of evidence, or can I touch it?”

“You can touch it…”

She stopped just a step away, shifting her weight onto one hip and tilting her head to get a better look.Spencer instinctively straightened, feeling a strange tension along his spine.Earlier, he had been looking at what she was wearing. Now, what caught his attention was how she looked.

There’s a certain kind of beauty you never quite get used to, no matter how often you see it. The kind that, every time, knocks the air from your lungs for just a second—that fleeting disbelief that someone like this actually walks the earth.

She had it. She radiated it.

And she was just a step away.

She took the garment out of the bag. It was a red turtleneck sweater. She lifted it higher toward the light, furrowing her brow as she examined the stain.

Spencer’s gaze fell on her beautiful face, her eyes shimmering slightly, her lower lip slightly pursed in thought.

Suddenly, she scoffed, snapping him back to reality.

"Mystery solved, and I didn’t even need a microscope," she said, shoving the sweater back into his hands. As he took it, his fingers brushed against hers, catching him slightly off guard. "It’s foundation. I’d recognize that stain anywhere. So, hooray, happy to help, no need to put me in the case report, have a good night, and see you—"

He grabbed her wrist before she could step away, stopping her in place.

"This isn’t a joke," he said, his voice dropping, tinged with sudden irritation.She raised an eyebrow at both his tone and the way he—unintentionally—closed the distance between them. As usual, she looked him straight in the eyes, and as usual, it was hard not to be drawn in. But he tried, because this case was really consuming his thoughts. "Listen, I called you because I need someone to actually test it. Not just glance at it. It'll only take a moment, and then you can go back to crawling into bed with whoever you want. Can you do that?"

The second-to-last sentence made her expression shift slightly.

For a moment, they stood there, unwavering, eyes locked without so much as a blink. Then, the corners of her lips tugged upward—just barely. But it felt more like a forced gesture, an attempt to maintain her carefully practiced expression, rather than a sign of genuine amusement.

"Alright," she replied softly. Not to be mistaken for shyly. There was nothing shy about her, a fact he was reminded of constantly.

"I’ll test it, since it matters so much to you. And then I’m going back to bed." A slow blink before she yanked the sweater from his hands. "With whoever I want."

Why did swallowing suddenly stop being an automatic reflex and turn into something he had to consciously work through?

"That’s great," he said shortly, dryly. He could feel himself slipping into the trap again, letting her toy with him. "Have fun."

"I will."

With that simple assurance, she walked away, and the very particles of air around him seemed to loosen, finally allowing him to breathe again. He turned after her instinctively, the way a swivel chair spins when someone sets it in motion.

She crossed the lab table and leaned over an empty workstation—empty, like all the others. The entire width of the counter separated them now, along with the return of cool detachment to her face. Slowly, Spencer rested his hands on the smooth surface, watching as she got to work. Watching as her hair bounced slightly with the shift in position. Watching as her jaw tensed in concentration. Watching as she leaned over the workstation slightly.

"So," she began flatly, not pausing her work or even looking at him.

Spencer gave his head a small shake, realizing that this time, he really had been staring. At least she hadn’t seen it.

"What exactly am I testing?"

His gaze drifted to her again.

"Something related to the case."

"Wow, I never would've guessed."

He was too distracted to mentally slap himself for how pathetic he was. 

"Uh, it’s not exactly groundbreaking," he began.

He could focus—he just had to try hard enough. He just had to clear the lingering trace of her scent from when she’d stood so close. Had to shake off the echo of her words. With whoever I want, she had said. The more he thought about it, the more accurate it seemed. He firmly believed she could have whoever she wanted. With that confidence. With that face. With that body…

"That’s why I’m checking it after hours. Just, you know…backstory stuff…"

A sound escaped her lips—somewhere between a scoff of disbelief and a startled laugh. She looked at him—no, she pinned him with her gaze.

"Backstory stuff?" she repeated, her lips curling into a smile. Not even a mocking one anymore. She was genuinely amused. "Did you, Doctor Spencer Reid, when asked what the evidence pertains to, actually respond with backstory stuff…?"

“No, I…I mean…”

“Oh God, it’s a good thing they don’t put you in front of cameras. Imagine you, at a press conference. Just casually dropping backstory stuff on national television…”

“I can handle myself in front of cameras,” he clarified, feeling an odd warmth creep up the back of his neck. “But there aren’t any here. And besides, I didn’t realize you wanted me to recite the entire case file from memory…”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said with another amused snort. “Backstory stuff is actually a surprisingly accurate term. You know, very professional.”

He rolled his eyes, feigning irritation, though what he really felt was more akin to embarrassment.

“Speaking of professionalism, maybe you could get back to work?” he suggested.

“I don’t have to,” she replied, flashing him a sweet smile. “I already checked everything. And I was wrong. It’s not foundation—it’s nitroglycerin.”

Spencer’s jaw practically hit the floor.

For the first time since stepping into the lab, his mind was running at full capacity.

"Nitroglycerin? Are you sure?"

"Well, I don’t get these things wrong," she said, almost offended.

"Nitroglycerin," he repeated in a whisper.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Suddenly, everything made sense.

She leaned her elbows on the table, watching him with interest.

He wanted to kiss her.

No—he did not—

"Thank you," he blurted out, her words becoming background noise as his thoughts raced. "Thank you for coming. This…this really helps. I have to tell the team—"

He turned toward the door, dazed by the realization.

Something stopped him.

"Spencer," she called gently.

She didn’t seem angry that he was leaving so abruptly. If anything, there was a certain soft glint in her eyes, a quiet fascination with his sudden revelation. Standing in the doorway, he looked at her one last time, feeling himself freeze in place again. He said nothing, sensing that she wanted to say something instead.

She tilted her head slightly.

"You owe me a favor," she said.

There was something about the way she said it—something that sent a slow, deliberate shiver down his spine. Not even a shiver. More like a careful march of cold fingertips down his vertebrae.

So, naturally, he did what any grown man with an IQ of 187 would do.

He parted his lips slightly and nodded.

[circe69]

“𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭“ - 𝐫.𝐬 𝐱 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬!𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 🕯️

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ who is it? - ryomen sukuna x plus!fem reader

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ what is it? - academic rivals, true enemies to dirty lovers, smut, unprotected p in v, reader gets called "princess", sukuna's tatted, mentions of fatphobia, reader is insecure, but sukuna's down bad, needs those thick thighs, "fuck it" moment, he's a jealous lover.

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ wc & an? - 3.2k, hi guys!!!! valentines special a little late? sry. enjoy.

"The class project will be graded on length, presentation, grammar-"

You tune out your teacher. This was the last period of the day. You were almost free. A smutty book, an iced coffee, and a quiet environment was waiting for you at home. Almost-

"And how well you work with your partner."

A quiet chatter broke out amongst the students around you. This was one of the biggest projects of the year, and from everything you'd heard from previous graduates, it was done independently.

"Yes, yes, I know. This is a new development," your teacher answered, "For this project, I will assign you to a partner. This partner," she emphasized, "is extremely important. You will spend hours upon hours with this person to complete the project. Are we clear?"

The class agrees in unison. As the teacher started rambling off names of who all would be paired up, you watched as multiple students either silently cheered or grimaced at their chosen partner.

"Last but not least, Y/N, you will be with,"

You crossed your fingers and squeezed your eyes shut.

"Ryomen. Sukuna."

Oh fuck no.

What the fu-

"Absolutely the fuck not," a loud, dark voice boomed from the back of the class.

And there he was. The bane of your existence, Ryomen Sukuna, standing up in retaliation. That pink fucking hair in all it's glory, dark tattoos marking almost every inch of skin, and that stupid letterman jacket he's always wearing.

"No way in hell I'll be with her," he exclaimed, his friends around him laughing. You turned around to look him in the eyes, and just as you figured, they were empty.

Sukuna was an all-star athlete. A basketball champion, the top of his class, a total knock-out. Everyone either wanted him or wanted to be him. He was technically perfect. Tall. Muscular. Fast. Smart.

Handsome.

Sure, you had a few wet dreams about him, every girl did. But you were you, shorter, quieter, chubbier, and couldn't play sports to save your life. He didn't give a fuck about you, but it's not like you even cared. You had something that he didn't.

Social fucking ettiequte.

The teacher took off her glasses and set them on her desk, "Partners are final, and so is this grade. No retakes, remakes or extra credit. Class on Monday begins the work period."

The bell rang, and everyone scurried out of class.

"It's not going to be that bad," your friend Cassie said across from the lunch table you were sitting at, "Yeah he's a complete dickhead, but you've dealt with worse! Remember Megumi from the first grade?"

All the girls around you groaned, "Bitch, he bit my fucking arm!" You laughed while Cassie shrugged.

"Look, all I know is that there's a nasty rumor going around that Sukuna only wants to be seen with thinner girls. Toned and skinny. And I mean," you paused to motion your hand down your body, "have you seen me? It's going to be a nightmare."

Another one of your friends, Nyla, speaks up, "First of all, you are not fat. You are curvy, got all the right stuff in the right places. Second of all, none of this even truly matters because you would've gotten an A if you'd been by yourself, you're definitely gonna ace it even with a little extra help."

You take a deep breath. Maybe it was going to be okay. I mean, it wouldn't be a walk in the park, but maybe Sukuna's misunderstood. Maybe nobody's given him a chance. He might even help you with this project, give you some great insight.

Misunderstood, my ass, you thought as you sat down reluctantly next to Sukuna. You slung your bag over the back of you chair and pulled out a pink notebook before flipping it open to a blank page. You expected him to say something, but silence filled the air between you as a clock ticked in the background.

You cleared your throat, "Alright, obviously there's no need for introductions since you've made it clear you are not fond of me," your words and peppery tone forced Sukuna to look up from the video game he was playing on his laptop. "And assuming this is a relatively safe space, I don't like you either. Never have. Quite frankly, you're a piece of shit."

Sukuna's eyes widened at your words before nervously chuckling and looking away. He leans close to you, and a strong scent of dark cologne wafts to you, "Do you really think I fucking care? Care about this class, care about you, care about any of this?" He whispered.

You smile sinisterly and whisper back, "It is literally so obvious that you don't care. Please, stop wasting your breath."

He rubs a hand down his face, laughing at just how fucking insane it is, the way you talk to him. All of the sudden, Sukuna raises a hand.

"Yes Ryomen?" Your teacher says.

He clears his throat, "Yeah, I was wondering if me and Y/N could actually go use one of the study rooms? We're getting a little distracted in here."

She sighed, "Yes, that's fine. Go ahead."

Sukuna jumped up, not even looking behind him to see if you were following. As the two of you exited the hallway, you tried to keep up with his long strides.

"Look, I don't know what your plan is, but it's probably a waste of time and this project isn't going to ace itse-"

Sukuna stopped and spun around, causing you to run right into his chest. You took a step back and leaned up to look him in his eyes. He pointed at the open conference room and whispered, "We are going to go inside that room, lock the door, and speak like civilized people. We're gonna work on the project, feel good about it, and leave early, because I have a party to go to tonight," your huff of annoyed laughter interrupted him, "That sound like a plan?"

You laughed as you walked into the room and turned on the lights, "Sure, Dad. Whatever."

Sukuna threw his books onto the table, "Damn it, you are so fucking annoying."

"What happened to civilized?" You rebutted, rounding the table while taking slow steps toward him.

"Oh, that went out the window the second I heard your name come outta our teacher's mouth, bitch."

The room went silent, Sukuna's breath hitched, your eyes saw red.

"The fuck did you just say?" You asked, taking a step closer to him.

He didn't know what to expect, what to say, he knew he just fucked up. But there was no going back now, and in his head, fucking up even more was his only option. Sukuna straightened his back and crossed his arms across his chest. Your toes were touching his, bodies too close, breath intertwining, but he leaned closer anyways, "I called you a bitch."

You shoved him. Hard. Against the wall behind him. A picture frame shook before falling on the floor. Sukuna made no reaction.

For some reason, tears started welling behind your eyes. Why was he so mean? Why did he have so many comebacks lined up? Why were you entertaining it? Why do you wish he was touching you back, even if it meant he'd hurt you?

You shoved again, this time a grunt escaped you. But his arms stayed in place, never reaching out. His body barely even moved from your force. What was happening? Why was the silent tension between you thick enough to cut into pieces? Your hands against his rough chest burned his skin through his clothes, and every singe screamed, "You shouldn't have said that."

As you shoved for a third time, and as a small cry came from your mouth in frustration, Sukuna's eyes changed. Even though you couldn't see it, every part of his body tensed and relaxed at the sight of your body failing itself. He could see you breaking down, and everyone around him would've told him to wind you up more. To enjoy it.

Before he could say anything else, you looked him in the eyes, "Fuck you," you spat, and grabbed your books before heading out of the conference room.

"Come to the party with us," Cassie said to you in the mirror as you watched her curl her hair. "It'll be fun! We'll get drinks, and dance, and you don't even have to stay for a long time. Say the word and I'll take you home."

It did sound appealing. The idea of a buzz, something to take your mind off of everything, loud music, wearing something cute, maybe talking to a guy.

Fuck it.

"Okay, fine. I'll go."

Cassie gasped, "Are you serious? Really?"

You nodded, and she squealed in delight, "Oh my gosh, I'll call Nyla. She's gonna freak. out." You laughed as she dialed in a few numbers in her phone. As Cassie held the phone up to her ear, you could hear the tone ringing, and Cassie whispered over her shoulder, "Go get dressed already!"

You forgot why you never used to go to parties, until you got to this one. Everything was so overstimulating, from the lights, to the smells, even your thighs sticking to every chair you sat on made it worse.

But you looked good. You knew it, and it had been a long time since you let yourself acknowledge it. A black mini dress that hugged all your curves, and lacy little thigh-highs. You were a goddess, a vision.

And every one seemed to agree. Especially Sukuna's friends.

"Damn, did you see the ass on her?" A white-haired basketball player nudged Sukuna's arm while talking to the rest of the team. As he turned around to see who he was talked about, he almost spit out his drink.

Fuck.

There you were.

Dancing underneath a blue beam of light, with your arms around your friends neck, your sweet hips swaying to the music. It was almost as if he could hear your raspy voice from where he stood, smell your vanilla perfume and sweet-like-cherries hair.

That dress was sinful. It was too tight, too short, too much for Sukuna to even handle, and suddenly, he could feel his blood turn hot at the thought that every single guy in this room is thinking the same thing.

Unfortunately, he was the last person you'd wanna hear it from.

He had always had a thing for you. Your kind words and quiet tone (to everyone but him) along with your overall angel-like appearance, the equation was sickeningly sweet. For years and years, he lifted up silent prayers to God that you'd be in his class the next semester. And they were always answered, only for him to never ever speak to you. So when the teacher said that you were going to be partners, he couldn't believe his ears. He had one chance, and he fucked it up, all because he didn't want to admit it, not even to himself, that the love he had for one girl was only met with hatred.

But as he made his way over to you, he ignored the blaring sirens in his head, all the thoughts that kept him up at night, all he heard was you.

Sukuna was right behind you, inches away. But he didn't want to touch you, not yet. He waited until you turned around and watched your eyes widen at the sight of him.

In this light, he was majestic, and you hated him for it.

The white tee shirt and dark-wash jeans were adding no help to your case, and a pair of black aviators rested upon his head. Every muscle, ridge, even the veins in his forearms, you wanted it all. And maybe it was the drinks, or maybe you were just so done denying it. You had always denied it.

He leaned down, "What are you doing here?"

You looked him in the eyes, "I'm dancing."

The song changed and lights faded to a deep red, and while bodies swirled around you, both you and Sukuna remained steady.

"I can see that." He cleared his throat and scanned his eyes down your figure, "Can practically see your whole ass, y'know."

"What d'you care, hm?"

You could see his molars grind against each other, his adams apple bobbing from a swallow. Just then, another guy comes up behind you and swirls an arm around your waist, "Hey, wanna dance?" You look at your suitor and smile slightly, so excited to see how this is going to play out.

"She's busy," Sukuna growled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Doesn't look like she's busy to me." The man's arm slithered away from your waist and moved so his hand was resting on your hip.

Sukuna was about to kill every single person at this party.

His inked hand reached out to your wrist and tugged you into his side, "Yeah well doesn't matter what it looks like, dumbass, she's fucking busy."

The strange man's hand on your hip was exchanged for Sukunas. The touch of his hand, something you'd thought of for years, dreamt of for longer, had finally reached you. And you hated how much it felt like something you'd been searching for forever.

"Sukuna," you shrieked, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He turned to face you, "Me? What's wrong with me?" His hand squeezed the flesh of your skin subconsciously.

"C'mere," he dragged you to the nearest bathroom, fleeing between bodies and furniture pushed to the side. He opened the door, and gently pushed you inside, shutting it behind him.

He didn't even bother to turn on the lights. You were surrounded by darkness, with the only exception being the strobe lights coming from under the door.

Sukuna's arm was still around your frame, but now, it feels different. Like he wants it to be there.

"You," he starts as his hands travel up and down your hips, "are so fucking distracting."

You can't see his eyes, but you know what they look like. They're not empty anymore. They're yearning, tired of waiting, impatient and hungry.

Sukuna backs you up against the bathroom counter, "So you're gonna have to forgive me for acting out of line out there, and at school, and all my life," his hand reached up to cup the back of your neck, "it's the least you can do for fucking me up."

And that was all you remembered before you felt his lips on yours. As violent as he was born, as scary as you thought he was, his tongue was gentle and forgiving as it pried between your lips. You couldn't help but let out a whimper before breaking the kiss.

"Wait, but I thought you didn't like heavier girls-"

"Who the fuck told you that, sweetheart?" He said against your mouth. You shrugged in response, "Just rumors, I guess."

"You guess?" He whispered as he kissed down your neck, and back up to nibble on your earlobe, "You guess wrong. Very fucking wrong." Sukuna bit the soft spot on your neck and his hands traveled down to knead the fat of your ass, "These hips were made for me, baby. Made for my hands, made for my mouth and teeth. Mine. All mine, Y'hear me?"

You nodded as you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him into you, enveloping his lips with yours. This time, his kiss is harsh and jealous. His tongue licked against yours in fervor, the sound of teeth occasionally clashing only made you pull on his hair more.

"Fuck, I'm sorry for shoving you that one time." You whispered into his mouth before kissing him again. Sukuna dragged the two of you to the floor. "That shit turns me on, precious," he said as he pulled your dress over your head. He growled at the sight of your full tits bouncing free from the fabric. All that was left on your skin was a skimpy thongs and thigh highs.

"Mm, fuck you and these fucking thighs. Look at what you do to me." He said as he shed himself from the shirt and pants, "Making me go insane."

Sukuna lowered himself over you, spreading your thighs apart with his own. The cold air hitting your pussy was a reminder of just how wet you were, soaking the fabric of your panties. A groan tore itself from your throat as he bent down to lick one of your nipples.

"Yes, oh- mmph," you moaned as his teeth grazed the bud, "Need you, please, needed you for so long."

"I know baby, I know,"

That's all it took for Sukuna to free his cock from his boxers. And from the looks of it, you were absolutely fucked.

It was huge, bigger than any dick you'd ever taken in the past, with a patch of pink hair around the base of him. His lips reached down to take yours in a deep kiss as he guided himself to your entrance.

"Fuck," you whispered as you felt the tip of him notch inside you, "It's b-big, Sukuna."

He slides in another inch while thumbing at your swollen clit, "Damn, you're gonna call me that while you're taking my b-big cock?" He mocked, but then reached down to kiss one cheek, than the other, "You can do it, princess - f-fuck - Get there with me."

Once he was fully seated inside of you, you could feel the tip of him just kiss your cervix every time he thrusted. "Fuck, fuck Ryo', feels good." You moaned while fisting his hair, "I like that, baby, say it again."

"Ryooo', you groaned, you felt your climax approaching faster then you expected. A fire was lit underneath your belly and every word that poured from Sukuna's mouth was a douse of gasoline.

"Mmph, these tits - fuck - that pussy, everything about you. You feel so fucking good."

An overwhelming urge to come came over you, as well as a strange feeling, something you'd never felt before, and with every hit his dick gave your cervix, the feeling only grew stronger.

"F-feels weird, Ryo', it's too much, feels like m' gonna- oh fuck."

Sukuna could feel it too, the way your walls rippled against his length every second that passed, your breath was speeding up, your voice was giving out. "Fuck, so pretty, let it out baby, milk my cock. You wanna do that? Spray me baby, I don't give a fuck."

At his words, the cord finally released and snapped. You were coming, and hard, while gushing on his dick. "Fuckkkk, so- so good."

"Where do you want it, princess?" He asked as his thrusts turned frantic and untimed. "Inside. Please. On the pill."

His balls tightened as he came, "M'cummin, cumming so hard," Sukuna warned as he released his load inside of you.

"Fucking hell, I should've done this sooner," Sukuna said into the crook of your neck. The sound of panting and shallow breathing flooded around you.

"Well, if you weren't such an dick maybe you could've."

He playfully smacked your ass in response, and you laughed at the notion.

"What a funny story to tell our kids, huh?"

"Kids? Ryo, we have to at least finish this fucking project first."

"Shit, I completely forgot about that if we're being honest."

"Yeah, I figured."

"Rude."

"Well, if you help me out, I guess I could have a kid or two of yours."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

So this is 5k words. Didn't mean for that to happen. This is for BuckTommy Fluffebruary Day Sixteen: Didn't Know They Were Dating AU. This is the one fill that doesn't take place in the same timeline as my other fills and is set in some nebulous period between 405 and 409. So Buck knows about Daniel. Jes-Yun isn't born yet. You can also read this on AO3 here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

They meet one night when Maddie is asked to cover a shift at the last minute and Chimney begs Buck to step in for a karaoke trivia thing he'd been invited to. When he arrives at the bar, Chimney is sitting with two big guys at a table. One of the guys introduces himself as Sal, and he seems cool enough. The other guy is Tommy, and he's definitely really cool.

“My girlfriend's brother is stepping in for her,” Chimney explains.

“H-hey,” Buck says, waving awkwardly. “I'm Evan. Buck. Evan Buckley.”

It's the least smooth way he's ever introduced himself in his adult life, but he keeps wondering what the hell Tommy's diet and exercise routine is. The guy is massive. He's so warm, though, when he shakes Buck's hand. Literally, because his hands are radiating heat, but he also smiles with his whole face instead of just a polite tilt of his mouth. Buck finds himself smiling back and ducking his head when Tommy lets his hand go.

“Wasn't your girlfriend the secret karaoke weapon?” Sal asks.

“Yeah, but this guy's the secret trivia weapon,” Chimney says, clapping Buck on the shoulder. “You said science and history always gets you, right? Here's your solution.”

Buck flushes and shrugs when Tommy's eyes sweep over him. “I hope I can help.”

He settles in for a night of karaoke trivia, and he's not much help on the pop culture stuff. But there's an entire series of questions themed around popular animals at the LA Zoo, and Buck gets all of them. As he answers, Tommy's blue eyes stay on him, and Buck finds himself answering with more and more confidence. When Celestial Bodies turns out to be the next category, he's quick to answer everything he knows instead of waiting politely for everyone else in the group.

By the end, the Worst Responders (Sal’s idea) win the night, and they sit with a pitcher of beer, their pride, and a Visa gift card each. When Chimney goes to take a call from Maddie and Sal gets up to use the bathroom, Buck suddenly doesn't know what to say to Tommy.

“That was pretty amazing, Evan,” Timmy says, raising his glass.

Buck opens his mouth to correct him, but instead he clinks their glasses and says, “Not so bad yourself, Tommy.”

Tommy's eyes dip as they both take long drinks of their beer, and Buck hopes he doesn't have something on his chin. He wipes it with the back of his hand just to be on the safe side.

“Man, I can't believe you can fly,” Buck says, settling back into his chair. “That's so cool.”

“Well,” Tommy says, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile, “I need the aircraft to fly.”

Buck makes a face at him. “Yeah, I know, but it's amazing. I always wanted to learn. When I was traveling, I'd end up on these tiny planes sometimes and always thought it would be fun.”

“I could maybe show you a few things,” Tommy says, resting his elbows on the table. “My rates are pretty competitive.”

Buck’s reply is cut off by Chimney plopping down next to him.

“Heard a girl talking about you,” Chimney says, nudging Buck and nodding back toward the bar.

He glances but doesn’t really see anyone specifically looking at him. He figures she’ll find him if she’s really interested. His focus goes back to Tommy, who is sliding a coaster around under his finger and smiling to himself a bit, but he doesn’t look all that happy. Instead, he’s just sort of…resigned.

“How competitive?” Buck asks, and Tommy blinks at him.

Tommy looks between Chimney, Buck, and something behind Buck before his eyes settle back on him. “We can figure something out. Honestly, I don’t usually charge friends. Except Sal.”

“For what?” Chimney asks, frowning at his phone screen.

“Thought I might take up flying,” Buck says, shrugging.

Chimney snorts. “Yeah. That’ll last. This kid’s got more hobbies than anyone I’ve ever met. Dude, I think someone stole my credit card number again. Hold up, I gotta call my bank.”

He disappears again, and Buck looks over his shoulder to see Sal is talking to a pretty girl at the bar, and she glances at Buck. When she sees him looking, she smiles shyly before looking back at Sal. If she’s the girl Chimney was talking about, she is pretty cute.

“I don’t have a lot of hobbies,” Buck says, turning his attention back to Tommy. “Well, kind of. I have a lot of interests, I guess. Which, yeah, is kinda weird, but I like the idea of flying. So I would absolutely be down to learn, and I’d be happy to pay for the fuel or your time or whatever. It’s like learning a superpower.”

Tommy smiles and slides his phone over. “Go ahead and put your number in.”

Buck does, noticing that the contact name is already filled in as ‘Evan,’ and he doesn’t bother correcting that either.

By the time they all leave, Buck has Tommy’s number in his own phone and realizes he forgot to get the girl’s number.

–

Flying is so cool, but Buck thinks Tommy might be a maniac. He’ll do maneuvers that don’t feel like they should be physically possible, and then he laughs over the headset. It’s terrifying and amazing, and Buck is flushed and breathless by the time they land on the tarmac at Harbor Station.

“That was awesome!” he says. “Okay, yeah, I owe you a beer. A dozen beers.”

Tommy takes off the headset and smiles. “How about dinner?”

Buck smiles back, though he feels like he’s still trying to catch his breath. “Yeah, okay. I could do dinner.”

–

Micelli’s is nice, and they’ve apparently got good beer and good food. Buck finds out that Tommy’s half Italian on his mom’s side, which explains a lot about his looks. His nose is so regal from the side, and Buck’s found his eyes tracing its shape more than once. His mom was first generation, so Tommy was practically raised by a bunch of older Italian women and his grandfather until he was in high school.

“So when you say the food here is good, you know what you’re talking about,” Buck concludes, and Tommy nods. “Alright, I believe you.”

“What about your family?” Tommy asks, and Buck shrugs. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“No, they’re…fine,” Buck says, shrugging again. He still feels raw when he thinks about his parents. “They’re, uh, back in Pennsylvania. Except Maddie. I think we’re British? Just sort of, uh, WASP-y? But I don’t really know a lot about my family.”

Hell, he knew even less than he ever realized.

“I don’t know a lot about my dad’s family,” Tommy says, and it feels like he understands based on the way he says it. It loosens some of the anxiety that had been building in Buck’s chest. “Scottish, Irish? Something like that. But I never looked too hard. Italians, though, you’d be hard-pressed to find a family that doesn’t want every generation to know every story and legend and the name of every town everyone was ever born in.”

“Family recipes?”

Tommy snorts. “I have a box of them. I’ve been trying to transcribe them just in case something ever happens to them, but there’s so many.”

Buck shrugs. “I could help.”

“Yeah?” Tommy looks surprised at his offer.

“Yeah, I’m kinda good at that kind of stuff,” he admits. “Plus, hey, I wouldn’t say no to learning some new recipes. I feel like I’m finally really getting the hang of cooking. Maybe I can even teach Bobby a thing or two.”

They start talking about the 118, and Buck is surprised at just how different it used to be. From the sound of it, Tommy was really different. Sal, too. And then Tommy felt like he was able to get a new start at Harbor.

“I just didn’t want to die in a closet, you know?” he says, and Buck tries to parse what that could mean. “I wasn’t out at the 118. Everyone thought I was straight until, I don’t know, my last month there? I finally told them right after my transfer went through.”

Buck blinks, realizing he’d somehow totally missed that Tommy’s gay. He realizes his silence could be taken for discomfort and panics. “Th-that’s great! I’m glad you were able to do that. It’s hard. It’s a hard thing to go through.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees, smiling softly. “Well, it’s actually just…freeing. Once you get past actually saying the words.”

“That sounds amazing,” Buck says, sighing. It does. The idea of feeling free has always felt like something he’s been looking for. Being at the 118 is the closest thing he’s ever found to that, but he wonders if it feels the same.

Tommy hesitates and starts to say something, but then their server arrives to take their food orders. Buck forgets to ask him what he was going to say, because he starts second-guessing what he was going to order and leans across to ask Tommy about one of the dishes. When Tommy leans in to look at where Buck’s pointing on the menu, his forearm presses against Buck’s and radiates heat the same way his hand did when they met, the same way his whole body did when he'd hugged Buck after their flight and when they met outside the restaurant. He wonders if it's a natural thing for him or if it's his muscle mass that does it.

“So you do like mushrooms?” Tommy asks, and Buck nods. “Yeah, you'll love that, then. But save room for dessert.”

“Okay,” Buck says, unable to keep himself from ducking his head and smiling as Tommy confirms with the server that Buck is getting whatever the hell it was Tommy had pointed to. He hadn't been paying attention.

–

He loves Tommy’s house. It’s got books and movies and records crammed into every available shelf in the living room, and there are cool old tiles in the kitchen and bathrooms that Tommy’s never going to touch even when he updates the rooms.

“Kitchen’s next, but I did a lot of the hard work with the electrical and plumbing already,” Tommy explains. He goes to a cabinet above his fridge and reaches in for an old cigar box. When he stretches for it, his shirt rides up and Buck blinks at the strip of skin that’s exposed. He suddenly feels guilty for staring and forces himself to look at the view of Tommy’s backyard from the window above the sink. “Here they are.”

Tommy sets the box on the counter and flips it open. Inside are old recipe cards, torn out recipes from magazines and ads, swooping writing on yellowed paper, and what looks to be more than one recipe torn out of cookbooks.

They’re killing time before a movie that’s playing at the theater by Tommy’s place, but Buck wants to dive into the recipes and figure out what it was that his family liked or what was important to them, what they held onto across generations, and which ones made little Tommy love desserts so much.

“Can you tell who wrote them?” he asks, carefully turning over a recipe card for some kind of soup made with lentils and sausage.

“Some of them,” Tommy says, leaning over and looking at the card he’s holding. “That was Prozia Camilla, I think. She always wrote her Bs really weird.”

“What’s that?” Buck asks, looking over at Tommy. He realizes he’s close, but it’s not making him uncomfortable. He feels a little warm, but it’s not from discomfort or embarrassment. The heat might be on in the house, or it's just Tommy being a human space heater. “Aunt?”

“Great-aunt,” Tommy clarifies. “Aunt is zia, uncle is zio—pretty easy. Nonna, Nonno–grandma, grandpa. Cugina, cugino–cousin, female or male. You add pro for great-aunts and -uncles, bis for great-grandparents. There’s one that’s in a baggy from Bisnonna Valia, I think she wrote it down when Mussolini was in power.”

Buck carefully picks through the box until he finds it, and he doesn’t take it out. He does inspect it, though. The paper is translucent and faded, the ink a brown-ish color. “What’s it for?”

“Canestrelli. It’s kind of like a shortbread cookie.”

He likes how Tommy says the words in Italian, the way his mouth shapes the vowels and kind of rolls the Rs but not really, the syllables he emphasizes a little differently than the way Buck probably would if he read the word from a page. He’d asked Tommy if he spoke Italian, and he sort of did. He mostly just understood it, but he sounded like he knew it whenever he said any of the words.

“These are amazing,” Buck says softly, rubbing his thumb along the edge of the paper inside its protective plastic. “Is it weird that I wish I knew them? All the people who wrote these down.”

When he glances at Tommy, Tommy’s looking at him and not at the recipe anymore. “No,” Tommy replies softly. “I don’t think that’s weird at all. They would’ve loved you.”

Buck grins. “Really?”

“Definitely.”

He flushes happily at the thought, even if Tommy’s just being nice. When he sets the recipe back in the box, the alarm on Tommy’s phone goes off.

“I kind of want to just look at these,” Buck admits. “But you said the movie’s really good.”

“Evan, it’s Casablanca,” Tommy says dryly. “It’s literally one of the greatest movies ever made.”

“Well, then I guess we have to go,” Buck teases, closing the box and handing it over to him.

When Tommy puts the box back, Buck’s eyes dip to his ass this time. It’s really a work of art. He wonders what kind of squats he does.

–

Buck’s a mess.

“You didn’t tell me it would be sad,” he moans as he snacks on the last of his popcorn on the way to Tommy’s truck. He’d driven, because it was easier than trying to find parking for two cars near the theater.

“A lot of the best romance movies are,” Tommy says. “But I don’t think it’s that sad. He loves her, and he knows she’s going to be happy. It’s not like Ghost or Moulin Rouge or Brokeback Mountain or anything.”

“I’ve never seen those,” Buck admits. “How can it get any sadder?”

“I mean, one of them could’ve died.”

Buck sighs. “Yeah, I guess. But—can you imagine finding the person who makes you feel like that and having to watch them walk away with someone else? People don’t realize how awful it feels to just be left behind.”

He realizes he’s projecting a lot onto a movie that’s eighty years old, but it does suck. Buck would know.

“Sometimes you just want to be the one people will stick around for,” he mumbles.

Tommy bumps their shoulders together gently as they walk. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Buck smiles and bumps his shoulder back. “You say that now.”

“I can’t imagine wanting to leave you behind if I could help it, Evan.”

The way he says it makes Buck’s heart thud in his chest, and for a moment he’s worried about another blood clot. He looks over at Tommy, who’s looking at him, and he smiles.

“Thanks,” he says softly.

Tommy puts an arm around his shoulder and squeezes him close for a moment before they get to the truck. Buck gets into the passenger seat and considers the few kernels of popcorn left. He wonders what Tommy’s favorite happy romance movie is and what it’s like, what he likes about it and the characters, if he identifies more with one than the other.

“So that’s the best romance movie?” he asks instead.

“I mean, that’s subjective, right?” Tommy says, turning on the truck and pulling away from the curb. “I think it’s pretty close to being the most objectively perfect one, yeah.”

“Is it your favorite?”

Tommy considers the question for a moment. “It's up there. It changes, honestly. I really like Love, Actually, but Princess Bride and Moonstruck are amazing, too. Casablanca is pretty perfect, though.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Buck says, smiling. “I did like it. It just, y’know, made me a little sad. Also, I didn’t realize that whole ‘Here’s looking at you, kid’ thing was a reference. I’ve heard so many people say that and thought it was some idiom I never learned.”

Tommy snorts and shakes his head. “I swear, I will expand your knowledge of movies.”

Buck normally doesn’t really care. He doesn’t have the same attachment to movies that a lot of his friends have, but he likes Tommy showing him things. The flying, the restaurant, the recipe box, the movie—maybe Muay Thai? He knows Eddie does it. Buck’s never really had an interest in it, but Tommy had offered to teach him and Buck had twirled his pasta around his fork and said he’d be interested because nothing sounded cooler. Now that he’s seen the set-up in Tommy’s garage, it would be kind of awesome to have one-on-one lessons and then go inside to make old family recipes.

He looks over at Tommy as he drives, and he notes that Tommy seems as at ease behind a wheel as he is doing anything else. He had also seen the car lift in Tommy’s garage, currently empty but awaiting a Chevelle he’d had his eye on that needed work, and he wonders if he’s always liked cars.

As he watches, he also realizes that Tommy’s side profile is pretty perfect. It’s not just the nose, it’s his entire face. Tommy’s a really handsome guy.

“Evan?” Tommy asks, sounding amused.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Buck slides down in his seat a little, feeling caught out for some reason. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Tommy slows to a stop at the light and looks over at Buck. He smiles and squeezes Buck’s wrist briefly, his huge hand almost engulfing it. He doesn’t understand how someone his height can be so big. With his free hand, he reaches over and picks up Tommy’s hand, manipulating the digits until they’re flat, and he presses their hands together to compare the size. Buck’s never met someone with bigger hands than his who wasn’t at least six and a half feet tall, but Tommy’s fingers stretch a little further, his palm is a little broader.

Then Tommy turns his palm just a little and curls his fingers until they’re between Buck’s, and Buck curls his fingers, too. He smiles and looks up at Tommy, who’s looking at him intently. It makes Buck’s heart pound again.

A car honks, and Tommy startles a little. He laughs to himself as he continues driving toward his house, both hands back on the wheel, and Buck feels his hand close around nothing, feeling empty.

–

Tommy is walking him to his car, even though it’s parked right in front of his house. They’re talking about the next series of movies the theater is showing—old noir stuff, some of which Tommy’s never even seen.

“That could be cool,” Buck says, putting his hands in his jacket pocket so he won’t reach for Tommy’s hand again. It would be weird. “We can see when our shifts line up.”

“They do them all in two month blocks,” Tommy explains wryly. “So that’s going to be a lot of calendar checking.”

“We can always share them to each other,” Buck points out. “Figure out other days we can do stuff.”

Tommy’s eyes look between Buck’s, down to his chin, and back at his eyes again. “Like what?”

Buck smiles and shrugs. “Anything. I mean, we’re kind of the perfect bar trivia partners. We can go around town and hustle all of them out of their gift cards and small cash prizes. But I really do want to help you with the recipe thing. You really think your family would’ve liked me?”

“Evan, do you have any idea how likeable you are?” Tommy asks, leaning his shoulder against Buck’s door.

“Hey, you’re pretty likeable yourself,” Buck says shyly. “You’re kind of the coolest person I’ve ever—”

He doesn’t get to finish, because there are two fingers under his chin and a pair of lips on his. For a moment, he freezes, because Tommy is kissing him. That should be weird. He’s never had a male friend kiss him on the lips unless it was during Spin the Bottle or under mistletoe, and those were always pecks or done with some reluctance on their part. But he can feel Tommy start to pull away and wants anything but that, so he brings his hand up to Tommy’s shoulder and keeps him there while Buck kisses back.

Tommy’s lips are soft, though his stubble is a little scratchy, but Buck doesn’t mind it. He really doesn’t mind it.

“Was that okay?” Tommy whispers when he does finally pull back.

Buck nods and his eyes drop to Tommy’s lips, which don’t look any different than they did a minute ago, but now he knows how they feel against his. He still has a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and brings his other one up to cup his jaw to keep him still when Buck goes in for another kiss.

It feels better than okay. It feels like a real first—well, second now—kiss. He feels like an alarm bell should be going off somewhere in his head, but all he’s getting is a need to feel more of him, to taste more of him.

They’re kind of making out against Buck’s Jeep, and Buck is definitely going to need to talk to Hen about this. If he likes kissing a guy just as much as he’s liked kissing a girl—hell, more than he’s liked kissing some girls—what does that mean?

Tommy pulls away again and presses their foreheads together. They’re both breathing hard, and Buck wonders if Tommy will ask him to come inside.

“I meant to take this a lot slower,” Tommy says. “You seemed…new. I know Howie doesn’t know, but does anyone?”

Buck wonders if he’d missed something in their conversation. “Know what?”

“That you’re—” he gestures between them. Then he pulls back more and searches Buck’s face. “You are, aren’t you?”

“What?” he asks again, feeling very slow. He doesn’t love the feeling, but he's also still really stuck on the feeling of Tommy's lips.

“Wait, are you?”

“Oh, my god, Tommy, am I what?” he asks, laughing.

“Into guys?”

Buck blinks. “I don’t—I’ve never really thought about it?”

Except for that one time in Texas, but he knew that he came off as flirty sometimes when he didn’t mean to. That hadn’t been TK’s fault. Hell, TK was gorgeous and a really good firefighter, and—oh.

“Oh,” Buck says, raising his eyebrows. “Huh.”

“Are you okay?” Tommy asks, searching Buck’s face for something. He’s not touching Buck anymore, which kind of sucks.

“Yeah.” He looks at Tommy and smiles. “Yeah, I’m great.”

He is. He really is. It’s a little bit of a shock, but he’s pretty sure he’ll be fine. Well, he might need to talk to Hen and Maddie and Bobby.

Then it hits him—Tommy walked him to his car. While the sun was up. In a good neighborhood. After the movies. He’d done the same thing after Micelli’s, after they’d flown, and he’d hugged Buck every time. It had felt good and warm and safe. But Tommy always walked him to his car.

“We were just on a date, weren’t we?” Buck says slowly, then counts. “Like, our third one. Wait, did you take me flying for our first date?”

“I thought I did,” Tommy says, his brows raised. “Did you really have no idea that I was asking you out?”

Okay, yeah, Tommy had said they should go out sometime before they’d left the bar the night they’d met, and Buck had agreed and Tommy had grinned. It had been really distracting.

“Huh,” he says again. “Wait, you waited until our third date to kiss me?”

“I thought you needed me to take it slow,” Tommy says, leaning his elbows on the hood and burying his face in his hands. “I thought you were new to this.”

“I mean, I am,” Buck points out. The way Tommy’s leaning makes his ass pop out a little, and his jeans are tight enough that they definitely qualify as date jeans. “Maybe not that new, actually. It’s normal to check out a hot guy’s ass, right?”

Tommy looks at him incredulously. “Evan, how would I know what straight guys do? I’m a Kinsey six.”

“Right,” Buck realizes, though he’s still not clear on the second part. “What’s a Kinsey six?”

“It’s a scale for sexuality. I’ve never actually been attracted to any women.”

Buck frowns. “Really?”

He’s found a lot of guys attractive, because that was just a thing Buck could see as a person with eyes. Hell, one of the first things he thought about Connor was that he had a killer smile. Then he had followed him to Los Angeles. From Peru.

“Oh,” he realizes, pulling out his phone and looking up ‘Kinsey.’ “Two? I don’t know, actually. I’ll have to think about it.”

Tommy huffs out a laugh. “You’re not, I don’t know, mad?”

Buck frowns and puts his phone back in his pocket. “Why would I be mad?”

“A lot of guys get mad when another guy kisses them if they weren’t really expecting it.”

“That doesn’t make sense. You can just tell someone you’re not interested.” His eyes flick down to Tommy’s mouth. “Or figure out that you are.”

“Are you sure—”

“You should come over so I can cook you dinner,” Buck says, suddenly wanting nothing more than to see Tommy in his loft and at his table. In his bed? Yeah, probably. “Saturday?”

Tommy smiles. “You mean tomorrow?”

Buck thinks about it. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

When Tommy kisses him again, Buck wraps his arm around his shoulders and spreads his hand over Tommy’s side. Tommy moans softly against his mouth, and Buck’s lips part further so he can tease his tongue against Tommy’s lips.

“Jesus, kid,” Tommy breathes when the kiss breaks, and it sends a bolt of heat through Buck’s belly. So, yeah, definitely guys. Guys are good. At least one is.

Buck’s phone goes off, and he reluctantly checks it. Maddie’s due pretty soon, so he can’t ignore his phone just in case it’s her.

It is, and Buck answers quickly.

“Maddie?” he says before mouthing an apology to Tommy. “Are you okay? Is the baby—”

“Buck,” she says. “Are you still coming over for dinner?”

Oh, right. The reason they’d done the matinee show for the movie. Buck’s supposed to be having a sibling dinner with his sister. He’s now late for it and feels like a dick.

“I am so sorry, I forgot. I’ll be there in twenty, twenty-five minutes? Do you need me to get anything on the way?”

“If you could get me enough garlic bread to fill your car, I’d be so happy.”

Buck snorts. “I can get some. Maybe not that much. But I’ll stop, just turn the oven on. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay!” she says brightly. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he says, hanging up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what time it was, and I did actually forget. I got, uh, distracted.”

Tommy smirks. “‘Distracted’?”

Buck swallows and nods, his eyes going to Tommy’s lips again. “Yeah.”

“God, you’re adorable.”

He’s never had a guy call him that before. He likes it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tommy says. “When do you want me over?”

“S-six?” Buck says, feeling himself sway toward Tommy like they’ve got magnets in their mouths. “Five. You start early on Sunday, right?”

“So do you,” Tommy points out.

“Oh, yeah,” Buck says dumbly. He goes in for another kiss, but it’s quick. Tommy pushes him back gently with a hand to his chest and nudges their noses together briefly before stepping away. “Bye.”

“Bye, Evan,” Tommy says, smiling and going toward his house.

Buck fumbles with his keys before he finally unlocks the Jeep, and he watches Tommy until he goes inside. It’s a thing he’s always done on dates. When Tommy waves before heading inside, Buck waves for a long time until the door is closed.

“Fuck, okay, garlic bread,” he says, turning the Jeep on. He grins the entire way to the store.

While he walks through Ralph’s, he also looks for stuff to use for the dinner he’s going to make for Tommy. On their date. Their fourth date.

Buck knows he’s standing in the middle of the baking ingredients aisle and smiling at his phone like an idiot. He knows that he’s going to spend half of his Saturday trying to perfect some kind of dessert. He knows he can’t wait to see Tommy and that he’s felt that way every time he’s seen him since they met.

[littelovelunette]

Omg i need more of that age gap secret relationship sevika stuff 😭😭 This time reader is at like a family gathering in some restaurant annoyed out of her mind from her family’s words and she sneaks outside just to find sevika waiting for her outside and they’re just fucking in the back alley of the restaurant 😭😭

Only If They Knew (2)

Contains smut, age gap, implications of getting caught, degradation, implications of exaggerated age gap, rough fingering, mentions of homophobic parents, pussy slapping

The family members were talking, loud noises and clattering of dishes making your head feel all dizzy, you just wished you could be with Sevika.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you stared blankly at your parents who were making ridiculous jokes about your cousins and all other weird things you could care less about.

You got up, "I'm off to the bathroom," you said in a soft tone before you stalked off, heels clicking after yourself as you walked in the bathroom, texting Sevika to come over. You fixed your makeup, making sure you looked all proper for your very very older girlfriend.

Your parents would never approve, heck they would never even approve the fact that you decided to go les.

They would freak out if they ever found out and even if you were old enough to move out, you preferred to keep it low for now.

Your phone vibrated in your purse and you looked at the text that said, " I'm here, doll."

You couldn't help smile at the text, grabbing your phone up and texted her, "I'm coming."

"You'll be saying that later," Sevika texted back and you huffed a laugh rolling your eyes. You took your purse, walking out of the restaurant trying to avoid your family from seeing you on the way.

As you walked out, you smiled at the sight of the tall woman waiting for you. Sevika led you to the alley between the restaurant wall and another building, pinning you to the brick wall, "Wanted to see your big bad girlfriend during a family gathering, huh? It's like you just got wilder for me," Sevika said, her voice a raspy whisper.

You giggled and gasped as Sevika pulled your panties down from under your dress, her fingers working effortlessly as she pocketed the garment

"What are you doing?" You whispered at her.

"Nothing, bunny, just enjoy," Sevika smirked a little before she pushed two digits inside your dripping cunt, flesh of her palm rubbing against your clit making you jerk a little.

"N-not here," you moaned in her ear, "Please, anyone could see us."

"Oh yeah? But you'd like it wouldn't you?" Sevika said with a small growl, fingers digging deeper in your dripping wet mess, "You're getting off at the thought of it."

"D-Dont make it sound so dirty..." You whined out, burying your face at the crook of Sevika's neck as you tried to keep your whimpers and moans low.

"Uh-huh? You love it, you dirty little slut, being fucked by a woman almost twice your age in an alleyway while your mummy and daddy are at the restaurant next building," Sevika curled her fingers making you gasp, "Admit it, you love it."

You gasped, and whimpered lowly. Your eyes closed in embarrassment and you nodded meekly.

For Sevika, your nod wasn't enough, she pulled her fingers out and delivered a slap to your pussy making you gasp and whine.

"Y-Yes, I love it," you answered her as you tried to grind on her hand where she hit you. Sevika smirked, "Be a good girl. Keep quiet." Sevika pushed her fingers back in your cunt and started twisting them and thrusting them fast.

"you love it so fucking much you're creaming on my fingers. little slut you're enjoying this huh?" sevika added a third finger making your eyes roll back as you tried to grab onto her shoulders for support.

"it feels good it's so good." you whispered in her ear as sevika gave her fingers one last thrust and you gasped, squirting over her fingers and your liquids streamed onto the street below. sevika laughed softly, the sound a deep rumble from her chest.

"did so well, my love." she took put her other hand in her back pocket and withdrew some wet napkins to clean you off. "your legs are shaking." sevika commented.

"you're so mean." you mumbled softly as sevika cleaned you off and pulled your panties over your ass, giving it a small pat.

"you'll be fine." sevika leaned in and kissed your head before you wrapped your arms around her and puckered up your lips for a proper kiss.

sevika rolled her eyes but gave in, kissing you deeply as her hands squeezed and palmed your body through your dress, her tongue delving inside your mouth with years of experience.

"be a good girl." sevika said with a warning tone and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. "i'll be fine, i love you baby."

you started walking to the restaurant again despite being a little shaky. sevika cleaned her fingers off, putting her hands in her pockets. "love you too..."

[randomshyperson]

Hi Mary, for the writing game can I request Wanda for hand holding #43 please? Thank you! Hope you overcome your writer’s block soon, I’ll be patiently waiting for your next masterpiece 🥰

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: raising the other’s hand to their lips to kiss it softly. | warnings: angst(ish), brief mentions of manipulation of free will (magic mind control stuff), dark!wanda.

"I just need to find the right spell." Wanda began to justify herself, even though you didn't say anything. Her hands remain in yours, while you wipe most of the blood with a wet cloth.

It's most likely due to the adrenaline from the fight leaving her body now that she starts to speak.

"I'll find it, I promise. And all of this will stop. We'll be able to go home." She assures you half-desperately, half-breathlessly. You just nod, in no hurry to finish your task. You like touching Wanda, and she almost never lets you now that the marks from the excessive use of the darkhold are so visible on her fingers.

She starts to cry softly, and then louder. You let her. The blood disappears from her hands, but only visibly. You discard the cloth somewhere in the corner of the room, to intertwine your hands together in your lap, and Wanda gives in to bury her face in your collarbone and soak your blouse with tears.

It doesn't take long for her to calm down, and you wait patiently until she does, a small Sokovian hum escaping your lips.

When she speaks again, despite the hoarse, affected tone of someone who has just cried so hard, there is a firmness and desperation in her voice that makes you frown in concern.

“I’ll make us a family again,” she says. “And all the pain will go away.”

You sigh. Wanda doesn’t tell you things, not really. So you don’t understand everything she means to say when she does. You don't understand why she hurts who she hurts, doesn't remember their faces, or their names. You don't remember why you're running, or when it started. Where you're going, or who you're running from. 

All you remember is to follow her lead.

“I’m not in pain, Wanda,” you murmur, your eyes dropping to her black-stained fingers. “I’m happy with you.”

She sobs softly, but you’re distracted by her hands. Your fingers trace hers, those dark tips of hers before you dare ask, even though she never explains much beyond what she thinks you should know:

“Is this what hurts you?”

She shakes her head first before answering. "No, love, this is just a reminder." You raise your curious eyes to her. 

"Of what?" 

"Of the monster that I am." You frown, and Wanda offers you a sad smile. She makes mention of pulling her hands away, but you tighten your grip. She looks ready to protest when you lift one of them to your face, to kiss her open palm and draw a sigh from her. "What are you doing, my love?" She whispers, watching as you run your lips over every inch of her skin. Open palms, and fingertips, not caring about the dark magic stains. Not knowing what they mean. Before repeating the same gesture, on the other hand, you let her know; 

"I love every part of you. Even the parts you think are bad. Unworthy of love. Especially those parts." Wanda chokes on her breath, in shock for a moment. But she doesn't wait for you to finish the gesture on her other hand to tilt her face towards you and kiss your lips.

The black fingers move to grab your cheeks, to deepen the kiss and she feels you smile against her lips.

It's a much more intoxicating sensation than the addiction in the darkhold, and Wanda focuses on this as she surrenders herself to the kiss and pushes the demonic whispers to the back of her mind, letting your needy sounds replace them.

She'll remember this, in the next world she destroys trying to get you back. And in the next, and the next.

[princesseilish]

MAKE IT OUT

Boxer!Paige Bueckers x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Paige Bueckers is an up-and-coming boxer in New York, fighting to make a name for herself while navigating the gritty reality of life in the city. Her girlfriend, Y/n, works double shifts at a diner to make ends meet, their small apartment barely enough to live in. Despite their love for each other, the pressure of their struggles and Paige’s demanding boxing career threatens to pull them apart.

Warnings: Heavy emotional themes, Financial struggles and poverty, Depictions of physical exhaustion and injury (boxing-related),Mild language and suggestive, Angst and relationship tension

New York was a loud, chaotic city—impossible to escape, impossible to ignore. But inside their tiny apartment, it was quiet. Almost too quiet. The worn-out couch sagged in the middle, and the windows rattled every time a bus passed by, but that was home. That was their home.

Y/n wiped the last remnants of grease off her apron, flicking her long hair behind her shoulder as she stepped into the cramped kitchen. Her boss had kept her on the floor for hours longer than she’d planned. Of course, he’d made a few comments, too. The usual sleazy stuff—nothing she couldn’t handle, but it was enough to leave her feeling worn.

She kicked off her shoes, sighing. “Paige? You home?”

Paige’s voice floated from the living room, low and slightly muffled. “Yeah, just finishing up some stuff.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. She should’ve known. Paige was always “just finishing up some stuff.” More like she was.

“You want me to heat up dinner or something?” Y/n walked toward the living room, poking her head around the doorframe to see Paige, sprawled out on the couch in a pair of workout shorts, her body flexing as she went through her footwork drills. The glow from her phone screen lit up her face in the darkened room.

“You can heat up some food if you want, but I’m good,” Paige replied without looking up. She was already covered in sweat from training earlier, but there was something about the way she moved—aggressive and fluid, like a fighter in her prime. And Y/n hated it. She hated how much Paige pushed herself, even when it wasn’t necessary.

But then again, she loved it, too.

“You know, I don’t get why you don’t just let me help you more,” Y/n said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “It’s not like you’re getting paid a ton for these fights.”

Paige stopped, finally looking up at her with a grin. “You’ve got your own stuff going on, babe. Don’t worry about me.” She turned back to her phone, scrolling through her manager’s messages. “I’ve got a fight coming up. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

“Another fight?” Y/n scoffed, walking into the room and flopping onto the couch beside her. “You can’t even get enough sleep because of these stupid underground fights. That can’t be your answer, Paige.”

Paige shot her a look. She knew this conversation all too well. “If I don’t fight, what am I supposed to do, Y/n? Sit at home and wait for something to fall into my lap?”

“You could take a break for once. Let me take care of you,” Y/n said softly, glancing at her girlfriend’s clenched jaw. “It’s hard enough already. I don’t want to lose you, Paige. I just… I don’t want you to do something stupid.”

Paige exhaled deeply, resting her phone on the coffee table and running her hand through her damp hair. “I’m not doing something stupid. I’m doing what I’ve gotta do to survive. If I stop fighting, then everything—” she motioned to the small, cluttered apartment around them “—this goes. We go.”

Y/n’s heart sank. “I know. But it’s too much right now. You’re pushing yourself so hard… and for what? A scrap of cash every couple of weeks?”

“Every scrap adds up,” Paige shot back, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll get there. I promise.”

Y/n took a deep breath, her chest tight with frustration, love, and everything in between. “I’m already working two shifts at the diner. My boss—” She stopped herself. There was no need to get into it now. “It’s just… hard, okay? I’m so damn tired. And I know you’re tired too.”

Paige’s eyes softened, and she leaned over, brushing her hand against Y/n’s cheek. “I know you’re doing your best, babe. And I appreciate it. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. I just…” She sighed, dropping her head onto Y/n’s shoulder. “I just don’t know how to stop.”

Y/n let out a breath, running her fingers through Paige’s hair. “I don’t know either. But I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

Paige didn’t say anything for a long while, just sat there, pressed against Y/n as if she could hide from the weight of everything for a moment.

And Y/n didn’t mind. Not one bit.

A Couple Weeks Later

The evening was quieter than usual. Y/n had just gotten home from her shift, but Paige wasn’t in the living room. She walked into their tiny bedroom, and there she was, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at something on her phone.

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “You look… pensive.”

Paige glanced up. “I’m just waiting for the call. They want me to fight at the Underground League next weekend. It’s big. Could be my breakthrough.” She bit her lip, unsure of how to gauge Y/n’s reaction.

“Oh yeah? Big enough to make us not have to eat ramen for a month?” Y/n asked, leaning in the doorway.

Paige shot her a tired but playful smile. “Bigger. Maybe even a hundred bucks more than usual.”

“Wow, rich and famous now, huh?” Y/n teased.

Paige stood up and walked over to her, wrapping her arms around her waist. “More like still struggling. But I want us to be okay. I just want more than this, Y/n.”

Y/n sighed softly. “I know you do. I just wish it didn’t come with so many punches.”

Paige cupped her face, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “You know me. I’ll fight my way through it.”

Y/n smiled softly, her heart full of all the unspoken things between them. “Yeah. You will.”

Paige looked down at her. “But we’re doing this together, right?”

Y/n leaned into her, closing her eyes. “Yeah. We’ll get through this together. Even if it’s just one more fight at a time.”

It wasn’t a lot. But it was theirs.

And in the end, that was enough.

The Fight Night

Paige stood in the locker room, slipping her gloves on. Her coach paced nearby, talking to her about strategy, but her mind was elsewhere. She could feel the weight of the crowd outside the gym doors, waiting for her to fight. She hated the noise. The pressure.

But when she stepped out into the ring, her heart found its rhythm. She saw Y/n in the front row, standing with her arms crossed, her tired eyes fixed on Paige. She didn’t smile, didn’t cheer. She just watched.

Paige nodded to herself.

Just one more round.

And then maybe, just maybe, things would be different.

But for now, it was just the two of them. Fighting for what was theirs.

The sound of the crowd faded as Paige’s focus zeroed in on her opponent. Her gloves tightened around her fists, and her breath came in steady, controlled inhales. Each movement felt like a heartbeat, rhythmic and deliberate. This was what she’d been working for—this moment, this fight.

Her manager’s voice rang in her head, reminding her of the prize money, the opportunities that could follow, but Paige only had one thought on her mind: Y/n.

She glanced to the front row, catching her girlfriend’s tired, but determined eyes. Y/n didn’t look happy—she never did when Paige fought—but she was here. She always was.

The bell rang, snapping Paige out of her daze. The first punch from her opponent came fast, but Paige was faster. She dodged, countered, and landed a solid jab to the jaw. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, but there was something different tonight. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

The fight dragged on, round after round. Sweat stung her eyes, and every bruise felt like a reminder of the life they were living—the stress, the struggle, the fights both inside and outside the ring. She was getting close to breaking. The fight wasn’t going the way she expected.

But then, a familiar voice cut through the fog.

“Come on, Paige! You’ve got this!”

Y/n. Paige’s heart skipped a beat, the words cutting through the chaos. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough. It was always enough.

With a deep breath, Paige shifted gears, landing blow after blow. Her body moved like muscle memory, the pain forgotten, the exhaustion ignored. The fight was hers now.

As the final round approached, she could see it. Her opponent was slowing down, and so was she, but she could feel the end coming. She needed to finish this. For her, for Y/n, for everything they’d been through.

The crowd roared as the two fighters exchanged punches, both tired, both ready to give it all. But Paige had the last word. With a final, swift blow, she knocked her opponent to the mat, the referee counting down.

And just like that, it was over.

The bell rang. The crowd erupted in cheers, but Paige barely heard it. She collapsed to her knees, chest heaving, sweat dripping from her face. But through the haze, she saw Y/n.

The same tired, strained expression still on her face. But there was something else too—pride, maybe? Love? Paige couldn’t tell.

Y/n wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t disappointed either. She was here, and that was enough for Paige.

She stumbled to her feet, the weight of the victory barely sinking in. The manager was already on the phone, talking numbers. But Paige didn’t care. She stepped out of the ring and made her way toward the front row, her eyes locked on Y/n.

“You okay?” Y/n asked quietly, stepping toward her.

Paige took a shaky breath, a grin tugging at her lips. “I’m fine. I won.”

“I know.”

Y/n’s voice was soft, but there was a warmth to it, a softness Paige hadn’t expected. It was as if all the tension between them had melted away. She reached out, pulling Paige into an embrace, her arms wrapping around her tight.

Paige rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder, finally feeling like she could breathe again. “We’re gonna be alright, aren’t we?”

Y/n pulled back, looking up at her with that familiar glint in her eyes. “We’ll be fine. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but we’ve got each other. That’s all we need.”

Paige smiled, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. It wasn’t much, but it was everything.

Together. That’s all they needed.

As they walked out of the arena, the night still felt heavy. There was no guarantee that things would get better, no promises that the rent would be paid without another fight. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. They were making it through—just one more round at a time.

And that was all they had. And it was enough.

The following days weren’t easy, but they never really were. Paige’s manager was already pushing her to keep going, to find another fight, to make the next move. The money from the win was nice, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet. Not with rent overdue and Y/n still working those exhausting shifts at the diner.

But things had shifted, in a way. There was a quiet understanding between them, a subtle reassurance that neither one of them had to face this struggle alone. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but it was their reality, and they were in it together.

Y/n worked a double shift the night after the fight. Paige had told her to rest, to take the night off, but Y/n never could. She liked the independence it gave her, the sense that she could still contribute to their tiny apartment in some way. Even if it meant dealing with the perverted stares of her boss, she’d endure it to make sure they were okay.

“I’ll be alright,” Y/n had said as she grabbed her bag and headed toward the door.

Paige looked up from where she was lacing up her gloves. “You better be,” she said, her voice softer than usual. She hated that Y/n had to do this. She hated that Y/n had to work under conditions that made her uncomfortable. But she wasn’t in a position to do anything about it—not yet.

Y/n smiled weakly, but Paige could see the exhaustion in her eyes. She placed a hand on her cheek before leaning in for a quick kiss. “You’ll see me later, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here when you get back.”

It wasn’t a lot—just a kiss, a touch. But in their world, it was everything. They didn’t have the luxury of big gestures. They didn’t have the space for extravagant dates or trips. They only had moments like this. Small but meaningful, like their own little secret.

Later that night, Paige couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The apartment felt quieter than usual, the stillness almost suffocating. She’d been training, punching at the bag with more intensity than necessary, her focus on the pain. But it wasn’t just physical—it was mental too. The fight she had won wasn’t enough. It never would be. Not when the world kept pushing back.

She grabbed her phone, debating whether to text Y/n, but she didn’t want to interrupt her. She knew she was probably on her break, and she didn’t want to add more stress. But after a few minutes, she gave in, typing a quick message:

Paige: “Miss you. Be safe. I’ll be waiting for you.”

She sent it and immediately regretted it. It sounded needy, weak, but it was how she felt. She was scared—scared of everything. Scared that they’d never escape this cycle. Scared that even with all her hard work, nothing would change.

The ping of a text cut through her thoughts:

Y/n: “I’ll be home soon. Don’t wait up for me. Just got a new tip from the old guy at the counter. Gross, but at least it’s money.”

Paige couldn’t help but feel a flash of anger. That old guy at the counter—she knew exactly who Y/n was talking about. The guy who made Y/n uncomfortable, the one who stared too long. She hated that Y/n had to deal with it. Hated that she felt forced to.

But she didn’t have the words. Not yet.

Instead, Paige responded with a simple message:

Paige: “Don’t let him get to you. I’ll be here. When you get home, we’ll forget about all of this.”

She stared at the words, wishing they were true. Wishing that they could just forget about the struggle, the stress, the pressure. But they couldn’t. They were stuck in it. Together.

When Y/n finally walked through the door hours later, looking exhausted but still managing a tired smile, Paige immediately crossed the room. She didn’t say anything at first. She just pulled Y/n into a hug, holding her tightly. It was all they could give each other right now.

“I’m so tired,” Y/n whispered, her voice muffled against Paige’s shoulder.

“I know,” Paige replied softly. “You don’t have to do it all, you know.”

Y/n pulled back, her eyes meeting Paige’s. “We don’t have a choice, Paige. You know that.”

Paige looked at her, her chest heavy with a truth they both had to face. “I know.”

But for a moment, they just stood there, holding each other, allowing the world outside to blur into nothing. In that moment, it didn’t matter that their rent was still overdue or that Y/n had to deal with disgusting customers at the diner. It didn’t matter that Paige’s manager was already breathing down her neck about her next fight. All that mattered was that they were together. And that, despite everything, was something worth holding on to.

“Tomorrow’s a new day,” Paige murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Y/n’s face.

Y/n nodded, her hands running up and down Paige’s back as if to ground herself. “Yeah. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

And with that, they fell asleep in the cramped bed they shared, the sound of the city just outside their window. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. For now, it was all they had, and for as long as they had it, they’d keep fighting—together.

The following weeks were a blur of training and late shifts. The cycle never seemed to end. Paige’s fights, though more frequent, didn’t provide the recognition she needed. Her manager, ever impatient, pushed her harder, always looking for the next match, the next payday. But Paige was running on fumes. Her body ached, her hands bruised and calloused from hours of sparring and punching the bag. She was constantly battling fatigue, but every time she stepped into the ring, her mind was drawn to Y/n. To their life. To the future they wanted but couldn’t seem to grasp.

Meanwhile, Y/n’s job at the diner was slowly wearing her down. The tips were decent, but it wasn’t enough to make a real difference. Her boss—rude and lecherous—had grown bolder in his advances, making her feel more and more uncomfortable with every shift. Y/n wasn’t naïve; she knew that the best way to stay in his good graces was to smile and ignore his inappropriate comments. But it was getting harder to fake her enthusiasm, especially with the strain of her relationship with Paige constantly on her mind.

She missed the old days when it felt like they were invincible. When they could spend hours talking about their dreams without worrying about rent or bills. The love they shared had always been something pure, something real. But now, every conversation felt like it was tinged with frustration. She could see it in Paige’s eyes—her exhaustion, her frustration with the lack of progress. Paige was losing herself, piece by piece, and Y/n didn’t know how to help.

One night, after another draining shift, Y/n came home to find Paige sitting at the small table in their dingy kitchen, her gloves sitting beside her, her face buried in her hands. The apartment was eerily quiet, the usual hum of the city outside muted by the exhaustion that hung in the air.

Y/n stood at the doorway for a moment, unsure of what to say. She had a million things on her mind, things she wanted to confront, things she wanted to fix. But right now, all she could focus on was the woman in front of her, the woman who had fought so hard to get here.

“You good?” Y/n asked quietly, stepping into the room.

Paige didn’t look up, but the tremor in her voice gave her away. “I don’t know anymore.”

The words hit Y/n like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t that she didn’t know Paige was struggling—it was obvious—but hearing it out loud, hearing Paige admit it, made it all the more real. This wasn’t just a phase. This wasn’t just a bad week. This was the reality of their lives.

“I don’t want you to do this anymore,” Y/n whispered, her voice catching in her throat. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself for nothing.”

Paige finally looked up, her eyes meeting Y/n’s, and for the first time in weeks, there was no deflection, no walls. There was only exhaustion and something deeper, something painful.

“I don’t have a choice, Y/n,” Paige said softly. “I don’t. We’re barely getting by, and I’m not even close to being good enough. If I don’t keep pushing, we’ll lose everything. Everything we’re trying to build… it’ll be gone.”

Y/n’s heart ached at the words, at the desperation in Paige’s voice. She had always admired Paige’s determination, her unwavering drive to succeed. But lately, it felt like that drive was driving them apart rather than bringing them together.

“I know you’re trying, P. I know you’re doing everything you can. But you’re killing yourself for something that might not even happen. You don’t need to do this for me. You don’t need to do this for anyone. Not if it means losing yourself in the process.”

Paige’s eyes flashed, the weight of Y/n’s words cutting deeper than she expected. “So what do you want me to do? Stop fighting? Stop trying to make something of myself? Stop trying to give us a future?”

Y/n took a step closer, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want you to stop hurting yourself. I want you to be happy. I want us to be happy. And I can’t do this anymore, P. I can’t keep pretending like everything’s okay when we’re both just… drowning.”

The silence in the room was suffocating. It felt like they were both holding their breath, waiting for the other to crack, to admit the truth. Y/n could feel her chest tightening, the tears welling up behind her eyes. She couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Paige said finally, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just… I just wanted to fix everything.”

Y/n reached out, cupping Paige’s face in her hands, her thumb gently brushing away the tear that had slipped down her cheek. “I know. I know you did.”

They stood there for a long moment, neither of them knowing what the next step would be. All they knew was that they had reached a breaking point, a crossroads in their relationship that neither of them had anticipated. Y/n wasn’t sure if they could keep going down this path, but she knew one thing for certain: they couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” Paige murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Then let’s figure it out together,” Y/n whispered back. “We’re in this mess together, P. We’ve always been.”

And for the first time in a long time, Y/n believed it. Whatever the future held, they’d face it together.

The next few days were a blur of heavy conversations and quiet moments shared between Paige and Y/n. They had always been able to talk about anything, but now, it felt like they were both navigating a minefield, every word carrying the weight of their unspoken fears.

Y/n continued to work double shifts at the diner, her boss’s lecherous comments still lingering in her mind. It was hard to focus on anything other than the constant stress of making ends meet. Paige, on the other hand, was training harder than ever, as if each punch she threw could somehow punch away all the tension and anxiety clouding her mind. But it wasn’t working. She could feel the pressure building, her muscles screaming for rest, but she couldn’t stop.

One evening, after another long day for both of them, they found themselves sitting in their tiny kitchen, a take-out container between them. The silence was thick, but neither of them knew what to say anymore. It felt like everything they had been trying to hold together was slowly slipping through their fingers.

“I’ve been thinking…” Paige finally broke the silence, her voice quiet but firm. “Maybe it’s time for me to step back from boxing for a little while.”

Y/n’s head snapped up, surprised by the admission. “What? Really?”

Paige sighed, running her hand through her hair. “Yeah. I don’t know… I’ve been pushing so hard, and it’s not helping. It’s only making things worse. I can’t keep pretending like I can handle everything—this, you, the pressure from my manager, the bills… I don’t know if I can do it anymore.”

Y/n’s heart ached hearing the vulnerability in Paige’s voice. She had always seen Paige as this unbreakable force, the one who always had a plan, who always knew what to do. But now, she was seeing a side of Paige she wasn’t sure she had ever seen before—a side that was uncertain and unsure of what to do next.

“I don’t want you to stop fighting,” Y/n said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But if you need to take a break… I won’t be mad. I just want you to be okay.”

Paige met Y/n’s gaze, her eyes searching for something—something that might tell her she was making the right choice. She had always put Y/n first, always tried to protect her from the chaos of her life, but right now, she wasn’t sure how to do that. How could she protect Y/n when she felt so lost herself?

“I’m sorry,” Paige said, her voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean for things to get like this. I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”

Y/n reached across the table, taking Paige’s hand in hers. “You didn’t drag me into anything, P. I chose to be here. I chose you. But we have to face the fact that we can’t keep going like this. It’s not healthy for either of us.”

Paige squeezed her hand, her heart aching at the truth in Y/n’s words. She wanted so badly to fix everything—to make everything right—but she didn’t know how. She was stuck in a cycle of stress, self-doubt, and exhaustion, and no matter how hard she fought, it didn’t seem to be getting any better.

“You’re right,” Paige whispered, looking down at their joined hands. “I don’t know how to make this work anymore.”

Y/n didn’t know what the future held, but she knew one thing: she wasn’t going to give up on them. Not now, not ever.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said firmly, pulling Paige closer. “We always do. It’s not going to be easy, but we’ll get through it together. We don’t need everything. We don’t need all the things we’ve been chasing. As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay.”

Paige rested her forehead against Y/n’s, taking a deep breath. She didn’t know if she believed that yet, but in that moment, with Y/n’s arms around her, she could almost imagine it. Maybe they didn’t need all the answers right now. Maybe they just needed to take things one step at a time.

“I love you,” Paige murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

Y/n smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Paige’s face. “I love you, too. And that’s enough for me.”

The days that followed weren’t easy. Paige took a step back from boxing, deciding to give herself some time to breathe, to think about what she truly wanted. Y/n continued to work at the diner, but she started looking for other opportunities, determined to find a way out of the rut they were stuck in. There were still arguments, still moments of frustration, but they were learning to navigate it all together. Slowly, they were rebuilding their life, piece by piece.

It wasn’t perfect, far from it. But it was theirs. And for the first time in a long time, that felt enough.

Paige sat on the edge of their threadbare couch, staring blankly at the phone in her hand. The bright screen illuminated her face in the dimly lit apartment, the silence pressing down on her. She had received the offer she’d been waiting for—an invitation to the biggest boxing tournament of her life. It could be the break she needed, the one that could finally lift them out of the cramped, run-down apartment they called home. But there was a catch.

Leave New York. No distractions. No one by your side. Just you, the fight, and the opportunity to prove yourself.

She ran a hand through her hair, glancing around at their tiny space. The apartment was falling apart, the rent barely covered by the tips Y/n made working double shifts at the diner. They’d been scraping by for months now, and Paige knew that if she wanted a future, if they wanted a future, she needed this. The chance to win could change everything.

But then the ultimatum hit her like a gut punch. If she wanted to go, if she wanted this shot, she had to leave Y/n behind.

Paige could already feel the weight of the decision pressing down on her chest. Y/n didn’t deserve to be stuck here, in this dangerous part of the city, while Paige chased a dream. She knew how tough it was for Y/n. She had seen it in her tired eyes every night when she came home from work, exhausted from waiting tables, dealing with creepy bosses, and barely making ends meet. Paige wanted to shield her from all of it. But the truth was, leaving her behind for a week felt like ripping her heart out. She hated the thought of it.

When Y/n came home from work that night, the exhaustion written all over her face, Paige tried to hide her turmoil, but she couldn’t mask the uncertainty in her eyes.

Y/n dropped her bag with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. “Hey,” she greeted softly, moving toward Paige. “How was your day?”

Paige gave a tired smile, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Same old, just… thinking.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Thinking about what?”

Paige hesitated, knowing what she was about to say would change everything. “I got the offer. The tournament. The one I’ve been working for.”

Y/n’s face lit up with surprise. “Wait, really? That’s amazing, P! This is it! This is your shot!”

Paige’s throat tightened as she looked down at her hands. “There’s a catch,” she whispered.

Y/n’s expression faltered. “What do you mean?”

“I have to leave. I have to go out of town for a week, no distractions. It’s part of the deal. My manager—he wants me to focus completely on the fight.”

Y/n’s face softened, and she stepped closer, her hands resting gently on Paige’s shoulders. “Then go. You have to take this. It’s your dream, it’s what you’ve been fighting for.”

Paige looked up at her, her heart breaking. “I don’t want to leave you behind. Not like this.”

Y/n’s brow furrowed. “Paige, I get it. I really do. You have to do this for us, for both of us. We can’t keep living like this, you know that. I don’t want you to stay here because of me. Go. Take the shot. I want you to.”

“But—” Paige’s voice cracked. “But I can’t leave you here. Alone. Not in this place, not with everything going on here. It’s not safe. You know it’s not.”

Y/n’s lips pressed into a thin line as she stepped back, crossing her arms. “You think I can’t handle it?”

Paige immediately regretted her words. “No, Y/n, that’s not what I mean. I just—” She ran a hand over her face, feeling the weight of her choices crashing down on her. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to go without you, but I know this could change everything. I need to take this chance. I need to prove myself.”

Y/n’s eyes softened as she met Paige’s gaze. “I know you do. And I want that for you. But I want you to know something, P.”

Paige looked up, confusion swirling in her chest. “What?”

“I want you to go,” Y/n said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to take this. I want you to fight, to chase your dream. I don’t want to be the reason you hold yourself back. But I need you to promise me something.”

“What?” Paige asked, her voice shaking.

“Promise me you won’t forget about us. Promise me you won’t come back and tell me it wasn’t worth it, if it means losing me in the process. I don’t care about the money or the recognition. I care about you. You’ve already given so much to this. But you can’t lose me in the process.”

Paige’s heart shattered at the weight of Y/n’s words. She couldn’t bear the thought of coming back and seeing Y/n lost, hurt, or feeling abandoned. She reached out, cupping Y/n’s face gently. “I’m not going to lose you. I swear. But I can’t promise I won’t be torn apart by this, too. I need you, Y/n. But I need this too. For both of us.”

Y/n sighed, pressing her forehead to Paige’s. “I know, P. I know. Go. I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.”

Paige closed her eyes, leaning into the warmth of Y/n’s touch, feeling the weight of the decision she was about to make. She didn’t want to leave her, didn’t want to be without her for a single day. But sometimes, sacrifices had to be made. And this, this was one Paige knew she had to take.

“I love you,” Paige whispered, her voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” Y/n replied softly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the uncertainty hanging in the air.

Paige kissed her forehead, knowing that no matter what happened, she couldn’t lose sight of what was important. The fight, the opportunity, it was everything. But Y/n? She was forever.

The week came too quickly, and Paige found herself standing at the door of their apartment, bag slung over her shoulder. Y/n was there, her eyes soft but determined, the silence between them more deafening than anything they had said. Paige took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. This moment, this goodbye—however temporary it was—felt like everything.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Paige said, her voice wavering despite her best efforts.

Y/n nodded, but there was something about her eyes—something hidden behind that familiar, understanding gaze—that made Paige’s heart ache in ways she didn’t know it could.

“I know,” Y/n said quietly. “And when you get back, we’ll be closer to where we want to be.”

Paige wanted to say something, wanted to promise her the world, but the lump in her throat stopped her. All she could do was nod, her hand reaching for Y/n’s, squeezing it tightly.

“I love you,” Paige whispered, her voice breaking on the words. “I don’t know how I’ll do this without you.”

“I love you too,” Y/n said softly, her thumb tracing circles over Paige’s hand. “But you’ll be back. And when you are… we’ll figure everything out. I know you’ll make it. You’re the strongest person I know.”

And with that, Paige turned and walked out the door, Y/n’s words echoing in her mind as the cold air hit her skin. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to leave Y/n behind. But this was their future, and this fight—this chance—was their ticket to something bigger. Something better.

The tournament was brutal. The fights were intense, and Paige’s body took a beating that made her question whether she could keep going. But there was something inside of her—something that wouldn’t let her stop. Each round, each punch thrown at her, made her think of Y/n. Her face. Her touch. The way Y/n had believed in her even when Paige couldn’t believe in herself. That was the strength Paige needed.

She fought harder than she ever had, pushing through the pain, the exhaustion, and the self-doubt. It was a long, grueling night, but when the final bell rang and the judges announced her as the winner, Paige felt like she had won more than just a title.

She had won their future.

Back in New York, Y/n was waiting, as she had promised, always waiting. She had worked long shifts, doubled up to make ends meet, but with each paycheck, with each passing day, she believed a little more in the dream they had. A dream of a future, of a home where they could rest, laugh, love.

Y/n had her own moments of doubt, her own moments of struggle. But every night, she would look at the small picture on their fridge—a snapshot from a day spent at the beach, just the two of them, laughing as they splashed in the waves. That was the reminder. They were building something together, even when it felt like everything around them was falling apart.

Months passed (i switched it, oops) Paige finally returned, just as promised. She was different—stronger, not just physically, but emotionally. The tournament had changed her, and with it, her determination. She had a new kind of fire in her eyes, and it was all for them.

The moment she stepped back into their tiny apartment, Y/n rushed to her, wrapping her arms around Paige in a tight embrace. The world outside seemed to stop, everything slowing as they held each other close. Paige kissed her softly, a promise in that kiss—one she had carried with her all this time.

“I did it,” Paige whispered, her forehead resting against Y/n’s. “I won, Y/n. I did it for us.”

Y/n smiled, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I knew you would.”

They stayed like that, in the quiet of their little apartment, with nothing more than the sound of their breaths and the beating of their hearts.

But now, the future was uncertain in the best way possible. The door was wide open. Paige’s boxing career had taken off, and with it, new opportunities were beginning to unfold. They could leave New York, go anywhere, do anything. The world was suddenly theirs to conquer.

It was a few months later when Paige took Y/n’s hand and led her to the roof of their building, a small ring tucked in her pocket. The city was alive below them, the lights sparkling against the night sky, but all Paige could see was Y/n. She had everything she needed right there.

Y/n looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “What are we doing up here?”

Paige smiled softly. “I wanted to ask you something. Something important.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her smile teasing. “What, are we getting married?”

Paige laughed, but the sound quickly turned into something more serious, more real. “Actually… yeah. I think we should.”

Y/n blinked in surprise, her hand instinctively reaching for her chest. “Wait, are you serious?”

Paige dropped to one knee, the ring gleaming in the city lights. “I’ve always been serious about you, Y/n. You’re my everything. Through all the mess, all the struggles, I want to face it all with you. Forever.”

Y/n’s breath caught, and the tears she had been holding back all night finally spilled over. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

As Paige slid the ring on her finger, a tear escaped her own eye. She had fought for this moment, fought for them, and in that moment, the world felt like it was theirs to take.

They kissed, the noise of the city fading into the background, their hearts beating in unison, knowing that no matter where life took them, they would always have each other. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was theirs.

And that was enough.

The end of one chapter, but the beginning of their forever.

[nana-mizu-shiki]

Nobody else at the party had seen when the boy had left, just knew that he did when Vlad Masters had thrown a fit looking for him. Luckily for the guests, a friend (?) of the boy had made him aware of the fact that he had left via taxi, Miss Samantha Mason.

The Waynes had stuck together since the boy had injured Mr. Drake-Wayne, wary but continuing the party, minus Mr. Drake-Wayne himself and Mr. Grayson.

Now, Tim and Dick were in a bathroom near their rooms, cleaning up Tim's slowly bleeding nose. Kid had a surprisingly good punch.

~~~~~~~~~~~◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇~~~~~~~~~~

"I just, I don't get it? What could Masters be up to that his ward is willing to physically harm someone as high-profile as us just to stop him? We have no idea how he got his wealth, but his ward does, and instead of telling someone he's just stopping them from interacting with him. Why? How shady is it? Is he holding something over his ward? Why go through all this trouble?"

Dick shrugged, not paying much attention to Tim's rambling. It all came down to the same question anyway. Why did Masters ward do what he did the way he did it?

Tim sighed. Dick told him what he overheard as soon as he was able to pull Tim away from the party, texting the rest of the family a summary separately.

"Y'know," Dick began, leaning on the sink, "There is a way to find the answers to your questions.."

Tim looked over suspiciously at Dicks mischievous tone of voice. "Hm?"

"Ask." Tim blinked blankly at his brother. "Make a file for him, find where you can find him, run into him, talk, then ask. Seems pretty easy to me."

The smirk on his older brother's face spelled nothing good, but Tim was secretly planning a way to meet his punch-boy again anyway. He side-eyes his brother.

"Hm." He looked back at the mirror. "...Maybe."

~~~~~~~~~~~◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇~~~~~~~~~~

Daniel Jonathan Nightengale Fenton. Masters (maybe).

Tim. Liked. The name. Mhm. Yep.

Daniel is 16 years old and was born in Amity Park, Illinois, to doctors Jack and Madaline Fenton. Currently lives in Wisconsin, as the ward of Vladimir Masters. His sister is attending a University in Metropolis for psychology on a scholarship next fall. Has expressed interest in moving in with her on social media. Has other connections with Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley, the daughter of a wealthy family and an expected scholarship student to MIT. No other notable connections. Has also expressed interest in space exploration on social media, but has mentioned being unable to due to health issues (*Come back to this later, Tim), and has mentioned wanting to go into engineering instead.

There was other stuff Tim found about Daniel when stalking looking into him, but this was what he found important.

If he was able to move in with his sister, the chances of Tim meeting him again increased drastically.

And well, a little hacking never hurt anybody.

~~~~~~~~~~~◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was fucking ecstatic.

Ellie had offered, very casually so it was obviously set up, but whatever, to watch over Vlad for him so he could stay with Jazz, at least for a little while. Danny felt kind of bad about it, felt like he was using his big sister, but she had been the one to offer and was very insistent. And that was before he was stuck with Vlad and...

Danny was happy with his sister. She got a full scholarship to the school of her dreams, of course he's happy! And they get to live in a really nice apartment because it's in Metropolis!

So, yeah. Danny's happy. Plus, now he's finally got a job.

~~~~~~~~~~~��◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇~~~~~~~~~~

Tim.... might be going a little overboard.

Whatever, Kons not saying anything so Tim's not going to stop.

.....Maybe he'll only bring 50 of the 100 roses.

Anyways, Tim was waiting a block away from the small diner Daniel worked at in his car, consistently checking the time for when he should go inside.

....It wasn't stalking, shut up....

Tim got out of the car with 50 of the roses and walked into the diner casually, knowing that it closed in 20 minutes.

....Maybe he should have come sooner. Whatever.

When he walked in though, it was apparently in the middle of a robbery. Where Danny was decking the robber as he jumped over the counter.

The place was silent as the attempted-robber passed out with one hit.

Tim cleared his throat.

"Ah, Daniel, I know we met only once, but I’d really like to get to know you better." There's music in Tim's inner thoughts that soften, and Tim holds out the roses for Danny. "Would you please go on a date with me?"

Sorry, Rich Boy

If there was anything Danny hated more than anything, it was doing what Vlad wanted him to do. Especially when he'd done it thinking it was against the fruitloop's wishes and the man gave him that smirk that tells him Danny had played right into the fuckers hands.

So Danny had gotten good at sniffing out a scheme. And, honestly, he didn't need to do much sniffing here.

Vlad had invited him as a plus one to a Wayne (Yes, that Wayne. Brucie Goddamn Wayne.) Gala, meant to take place only a few days from now. Vlad must have suspected Danny would never agree, would have thought it was another attempt for Danny's loyalty where none of his friends could help. Unfortunately for Vlad, Danny was a spiteful fuck and he wouldn't let Vlad go to a Gala full of rich fools alone. Not when Vlad had previously admitted to how he'd gotten his fortune in the first place.

So, there Danny was, keeping an eye on Vlad. At a Wayne Gala. In Gotham, New Jersey. Fuck his half-life.

It was a horrible idea, really. The suit is stuffy, the room is stuffy, and the people are fucking stuffy. He hangs around the food for the most part, only because Vlad keeps coming back to it which makes keeping an eye on the guy somewhat easier. He admits coming was a good idea only when he sees Vlad making buddies with the Wayne troop themselves and that smirk is on his face. Well, fuck that.

He catalogs the group; not including Bruce Wayne there is a scowling child (immediately off the table, he’s not some fucko like Vlad okay), two teenage boys (one of them black and built like a small brick wall. The other a white boy, scrawny as hell, and looking a breeze away from passing out), two teenage girls (one a peppy blonde and the other a ravenette, off to the side laughing together), and a man (big).

Overall, if he had to pick who to go after to cause the most fuss, it’d be the kid. However, he has morals, so he sets his sights on the skinny white boy instead. He’s skinny, obviously, but upon a closer look has some muscle on him that makes Danny less guilty for his choice. Sorry, rich boy, but Danny has a godfather to piss off.

He sets down his drink, walks over, and decks the poor boy in the face. The look of horror on Vlad's face is well worth the absolute confusion coating the entire group.

And, just for the cherry on top, he turns to Brucie Wayne and the fruitloop, "Your Gala sucks and so does your city. Fuck this place, never bring me here ever again Vlad."

[reinreingoawayy]

sae was super against the idea of having a pet cat. one, he thought they were mean, and two, he couldn’t stand the smell of their shit. so when he sees you holding a small black stray cat, both—you and the cat—drenched from the rain, he couldn’t help himself from shaking his head while he grabs towels for you and for the cat. he suggested bringing it to the animal shelter, which you disagreed right away as you tucked the poor cat into your arms as if he was going to snatch it from you and throw it to the nearest animal shelter.

he exhaled as he watch you give your full attention to the cat.

“so what are you gonna do about it now?” he asked.

“i don’t know—keep it?” you said, gently patting the towel on the cat’s body.

“but—”

“but i want to make sure you’re okay with it first,” you said.

“you know the answer,” he said with finality in his voice.

“can’t i change your mind? at all?”

sae looked away because he knows—he knows himself that he’d eventually give in to those pleading eyes. sae had always been this tough guy, but for some reason, the tough, hard to please, unchanging mind, becomes all too soft for you. it was almost like you had him in a spell that he couldn’t get through, not that he’d want to get through.

for him, what comes first is you. regardless of what he wants, it was always you first, and he was okay with it. seeing how your eyes would light up, the way you curl the corners of your lips when you’re happy was enough reason for him to put you first before anything else.

but having a pet cat was a different topic. he was very open about not wanting it. so, it was a challenge for you to persuade him. it only took a lot of pleases and promises and few bribes here and there before he finally exhaled with defeat. that was your cue that he was finally giving in.

“fine,” he said softly.

you beamed and almost jumped onto him for a hug.

“thank you!” you said again and again.

“but we must have conditions,” he said as you sat back to your seat, ready to listen to his conditions. there was a handful but you were more than willing to cooperate if that meant you could finally have a cat.

after bringing the cat to the veterinary clinic to make sure she was all good, you both went to a pet store to buy some stuff for the small cat. you were all giddy and excited as you survey each aisle, thinking and grabbing all the stuff you thought she might need while sae push the cart behind you.

“do you think this is excessive?” you asked sae.

he quickly shrugged his shoulders. “if you think it’s good for her, then go for it,” he replied, making your heart melt for a moment. you felt a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest that it almost made you tear up in front of the whole store.

after buying all the stuff, you went back home, played with the kitten while sae goes out for his usual football practice. if you don’t have work, you’d stay at home doing random stuff to fill up the boredom. he usually comes back before dinner time, if there’s intensive training, he comes back before midnight, and today is that day. when he comes back, it’s either you were already asleep or binge watching a series with your skincare on.

tonight, you decided to wait for him while you play with the kitten, but exhaustion came faster than sae and before you even know, you were knocked out on the couch with the ball of yarn on your hand. before you pass out, you could’ve sworn you heard the door unlocked but you drifted anyway.

sae sighed, watching you sound asleep on the couch. the blue ball of yarn was still on your hand and the small cat was laying beside you, perfectly loafed.

“hi there,” sae said, kneeling in front of you and the kitten. he felt stupid for greeting the animal, but when the kitten let out a small meow, he was taken aback.

“sorry if i acted that way earlier. truth is, i don’t really know how to take care of someone like you and i’m a little afraid that i might end up neglecting you, but don’t worry. your mom, right here…” he said, pointing at you, still sleeping.

“she’s gonna take good care of you and i will do my best to do my part as well. i’m sorry if i ever had you feel you were not welcome here. i just really don’t know what to react. it’s a me problem. you are definitely most welcome.”

he bit his lower lip as he tried to scratch the kitten’s back hesitantly, but when the kitten leaned on to his touch, he felt a slight relief.

“so how was your day with your mom? did you do anything fun?” he smiled.

“my practice was fine. it was tiring and almost felt redundant, but i love football so it’s fine. i hope you find what you love soon. i’d like to see it.”

“one last thing i have to tell, love your mom as much as i love her, okay? i hope you see how much of a wonderful person she is. she’s the best you could ever have,” he said before finally nudging your shoulders to wake you up.

“wake up, love,” he said in a very soft voice.

you hummed, pretending not to hear all of what he said just now.

“i love you, sae,” you whispered.

“you heard that, didn’t you?” he said.

“maybe?”

“i love you, too. now lemme get you to a proper bed.”

[hansoleil]

★ ˙ ̟ ─── . “(im)patience”.

— hannie × reader. — 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: smut. — 𝘄. 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2734. — 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: afab reader, brat tamer!hannie, fingering, oral (f. receiving), orgasm denial, inappropriate language. — 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: hi! i'm a little nervous about this.

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔. jeonghan loves testing your patience.

You had already convinced yourself: if "gaslighting" was a person, it would be your boyfriend. Yoon Jeonghan was physically incapable of going a whole day without messing with you. In the words of his closest friends: "his love language is to be a little of a son of a bitch" and yes, you were already aware of this before you became his girlfriend — even worse, this personality trait was what made you fall head over heels for him.

Jeonghan is a contradictory man: his angelic face does a great job hiding his perverse tendencies, it's the perfect combo to make you fall for him and his tricks. The pranks vary in relevance, genre and intention, but Jeonghan manages to throw you off track every time. Things like:

𝟏. Hiding your phone charger and arguing with you because, according to him: "you never know where you put your stuff";

𝟐. Texting you that he needs to talk about something very serious, disappearing for hours and then saying something along the lines of "I don't even remember what it was" when you finally see him in person;

𝟑. Pretending to forget important dates just to see the look of desperation on your face (but he always comes up with a surprise in the end — at least).

It's difficult for you to list the amount of times your boyfriend tried to drive you crazy. It was the perfect combination: Jeonghan seemed to take an immense pleasure in seeing you angry and you got annoyed every single time, no exceptions.

For Jeonghan, however, it's hard to contain himself. You look so hot when you're mad at him, he just can't help it. He genuinely feels more in love with you whenever you look like you're about to jump him. Seeing you all pouty, full of anger makes him want to swallow you whole. That aside, he'd rather not even think about how his cock throbs inside his pants every time you yell at him. And, hell, Jeonghan's no fool. He knows very well that you're only playing his games because you also get aroused whenever there's something going on between you two.

── ★ ˙ ̟ ──────── . ♡

Don't get it wrong, every time you woke up, you would spend the whole day waiting for the moment when Yoon Jeonghan would decide to destroy your patience, but apparently that infamous moment had come too soon.

Your body woke up before your mind could, going through various levels of unconsciousness and consciousness, you felt large hands squeezing your thighs and a warm breath on the back of your neck, taking a few seconds to remember who would be the only possible owner of those touches.

"Hannie?", you whisper sluggishly. Not even bothering to open your eyes or move your body.

"Hi, love. Took you long enough to wake up, huh?", the grip on your legs was still there, slowly moving his hands to your inner thighs.

"I want to sleep more...", you whined. You had worked until late the day before, your body still heavy with fatigue.

"Then sleep, princess. I'll play with this pussy just a little, yeah? We almost don't see each other these days, I miss you.", he snuggled more into your body as he spoke. The pout in his voice could be predicted, his tone was very telling.

You didn't even bother answering, just readjusted yourself on the bed, laying supine and opening your legs to Jeonghan. This was the green light for him to do whatever he wanted with you. His face lit up in a smile seeing you give up yourself so easily, in his wicked little brain it was like your body became his property in these moments — he would never say this out loud though.

Jeonghan didn't waste any time, leaving languid kisses down your neck and collarbones as he teased your nipples through the flimsy fabric of your pajamas. His skilled fingers played with the sensitive buds just the way you liked it, the man was also making sure to glance at your expressions — observing your reactions to each move.

"Hannie, you didn't ask me to play with them... it's taking too long! You know I can't sleep like this.", now it was your turn to whine. You just wanted to cum and come back to sleep, not really wanting to deal with Jeonghan's antics.

"But I need to get you wet for me, love. Isn't it better when you're all desperate for it, princess?, he said, nuzzling his nose on your jawline. "Let me give them attention just a bit, yeah?", Jeonghan pecked your cheek lovingly, as if he was asking for the sweetest thing in the world.

He lifted your pajamas' shirt, rolling up the fabric until it was stuck at your collarbones — freeing your breasts from it. Kisses were trailed down your belly button, but they went up before you could think he changed his mind. He massaged them carefully, eyes attached to yours, squeezing them with a little more intensity just to watch your expressions contort.

Jeonghan went down slowly, opening his mouth to finally capture one of your boobs inside it, but never stopped massaging the other one. He was sucking at them passionately, grunting against your skin. Alternating between the two buds, he also slightly bit the skin, tracing them with his tongue right after to soothe the pain.

Hannie was a dedicated lover, he knew very well that if he did it just right you would start begging for him to make you cum very soon. And it wasn't a lie — you felt an ache between your legs, the fabric of panties almost turning transparent. One of your hands tangled onto his hair, pressing his face against your skin.

"Jeonghan, please!", you mumbled annoyed. The short amount of patience you had already started to evaporate from your brain.

"You're so stubborn, _____.", his tone as serious as his face. "Alright. If you want it to be like this...", every detail of his oratory sends your body into alert mode. It wasn't characteristic of Jeonghan to comply with anything so easily, something was definitely wrong.

His body went even more downwards, eyes never leaving your. His expression was still serious, but knowing him for so long, you knew that the glint behind his eyes was not a synonym to something good.

Jeonghan kissed the inner part of your thighs, leaving one or two bites on the immaculate skin. His hands trailed up to your waist and pulled your body to him. His face got closer to your core and he nuzzled your clit with the tip of his nose. Greedy, he also gave you the touch of his tongue, still playing on top of the fabric. You sighed, pushing your hips in his direction, wanting more of his mouth on you.

"Behave.", it was harsh, clearly a command. Jeonghan used his hands to press your hips to the mattress, keeping you still. He suckled on your clit with need, as if the pieces of clothing were not in the way.

"Hannie, do it properly!", you whimpered, sounding as needy as you could, trying to earn his compassion. Your fingers even tugged on his hair, showing how desperate you felt.

It all happened in a swift, when you were able to notice, Jeonghan had already captured your wrist above your head using one of his hands and the other as anchored to your jawline. His body was warm pressed against yours, you felt his long hair tickling your face.

"So fucking demanding, yeah?", he clicked his tongue in disapproval. The pressure on your jaw got stronger, squeezing your cheeks until you pouted. "I thought you gave me permission to play with you however I want. Why are you bitching now? Hm?", he shook your face demanding an answer he knew very well was not gonna get.

And your "answer" happened to be different from what he was expecting: your legs pressing against each other, trying to pleasure the sticky place between them. Jeonghan, being one to never turn a blind eye on things like these, made sure to watch every movement.

"You're too busy acting like a needy little bitch to even bother listening to me... isn't that right, love?", your eyes met again. Jeonghan throbbed inside his pants seeing such a dazed look in your face, he always got you so weak with little to no effort. "Am I right, slut? Tell me.", he tapped your cheek a few times, still instigating you to talk.

"Hannie... don't talk like that!", your voice almost imperceptible. You felt your face burning, legs squirming even more.

"Why not, love?", the tone was cocky, clearly mocking you. Jeonghan used the weight of his own legs to make you open up more. His other hand reaches for the hem of your pajamas' pants, touching you directly. "Your little pussy likes it when I talk like that, princess. So wet for me, yeah?", his long fingers teasing the soaked folds, playing with the oozing liquid.

Hannie pushed his middle finger inside, it was just to irritate — he knew only one was not enough to satisfy you. Feeling how warm you were, his thrusts were languid. Your walls tightening around him so good he couldn't help fantasizing himself inside you.

"So damn tight. Wish I could fuck this pussy forever.", he rubbed his nose against yours, fingering you nonstop. Not for his praiseworthy self-control, Jeonghan swears he would've had already fucked you until one of you fainted.

"More, Hannie... I need more, please.", your begging is almost inaudible, he only was able to listen because of how close he was to you.

"One more, love? What a greedy little pussy. Think I'm spoiling you too much.", the raspy voice right beside your ear was almost enough to make you come undone. You felt your body burn, skin prickly in anticipation.

Jeonghan slided one more finger inside, curving his hand to also stimulate your clit with the heel of his hand. He arched his fingers upwards, having all your weak spots tattooed on his mind. The movement grew faster, the thought of having you all disheveled consuming his head.

Maybe it was the fact that you had just woken up, maybe it was all the teasing or maybe it was a mix of those two things, but you felt like you were almost losing your mind — the taste of the pleasure numbing your senses. Eyes closed, moans turning into whimpers, breath shaking. So close... your little pussy was squeezing him mercilessly. The wet sounds and your own voice were everything you could hear. Your movements were constrained, but you tried your best to fuck yourself on your boyfriend's fingers.

Your moans halted, eyebrows knitted tightly as your mouth turned into a perfect "O". And that's when you felt empty. No warnings. Out of the blue. Core still pulsing desperately, a frustrating ache between your legs due to the orgasm that was ripped from your fingers. A very pleased Jeonghan was not what you were expecting to see when you opened your eyes. Tasting your arousal, he was sucking on his fingers with delight. Eyes closed, mouth emitting a series of "hmmm's" — as if he was savoring something delicious.

"Jeonghan! Son of a bitch!", you snapped, moving in exasperation under his body. Your boyfriend shot his eyes open, as if he was surprised with the change in your behavior. His fingers left his mouth rapidly as he made what he could to hold you still.

"Hey! Calm down! What's wrong?", he chuckled lowly, not able to contain himself. His face morphing into an angelic expression, like he wasn't aware of what he had just done.

"You know damn well what's wrong, you jerk. What the hell is wrong with you?", aggravated, you tried your best to slap him. But he was faster, holding you by the wrists again.

"I swear I don't get it, love. I didn't do anything wro- ah! You did not come, my love?", his surprised face was almost convincing, but you were too smart. "I didn't mean it, my love. I can even promise! I thought you were done and was just tasting you, baby.", a born actor, Yoon Jeonghan.

"Get off me, Jeonghan.", you were no idiot. After almost three years dating this man, you could read him like a book.

"I'm being honest, baby. Can you forgive me? Please?", he whined, knowing it was light work to soften your heart. Jeonghan placed wet kisses on your neck, transforming them into hickeys soon after. His sneaky hand squeezing your ass with need. "Let me redeem myself, love? Promise I can make you cum quickly.", trailing his kisses to the corner of your mouth, he silently asked for permission to kiss you properly. Biting your bottom lip, he wasted no time when it felt like you had given in to him.

The kiss was lascivious, he knew exactly what to do in order to make you weak. Tongue grinding against yours, sucking on your lips sensually. It was wet, drool almost dripping from the corner of your mouth. Dirty, just like Jeonghan liked it.

"Gonna let me eat this pussy out, yeah?", he bit the thin skin of your jaw. "Right, baby? Gonna make a mess all over my mouth?", now the tip of your ear. "Is that it, love?", he halted his movements, finally looking into your eyes.

"Be quick.", you tried to sound unfazed. However it was obvious that he had already won you over. He gave you a big smile, almost jumping to get between your legs again. Jeonghan helped you get rid of your pajamas' pants and panties — throwing them on the bedreoom's floor. Hurriedly, he opened your thighs and positioned his body in the middle. He used his thumbs to stretch your folds, observing your core with close attention.

"Hannie, stop it!", you felt your skin prickle. Jeonghan seemed to have a thing for doing things of the sort just to get you embarrassed.

"I'm just admiring it, love. So fucking pretty.", he caressed it fondly. To get a reaction out of you, he licked from the small oozing hole up to your clit. He also made sure to come back and play with your little cunt, swallowing your arousal. Jeonghan pushed the tip of his tongue inside, licking at your walls with dedication.

Your body was squirming in sensitivity, the shockwaves of your ruined orgasm still burning in your core. He now played with your throbbing clit, flicking his tongue at it. Involuntarily, your hips moved against his mouth, looking for more. Jeonghan didn't try to stop you this time, letting you grind on his face however you wanted.

"Ah! Hannie!", you gasped feeling him sucking on your clit more forcefully. Wanting to break you more, he buried his fingers inside of you again. You became a mess, moans turning desperate and sluggish. The pleasure was almost unbearable now that Jeonghan ate your pussy like he was starving. Your legs were involuntarily trying to close around your boyfriend's head, even with him trying his best to keep them in place.

"Please, Hannie! Please, please...", you didn't even know what you were begging for, head completely empty. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you squeezed the bed sheets between your fingers — looking for something to keep yourself grounded. It was like your waist was moving by itself, trying to get closer to Jeonghan's mouth. You were right at the edge again, seeking the last thing that was going to set yourself free. For some reason, this orgasm felt like it was going to be more intense than the previous.

And that's where Jeonghan left you again. Getting up abruptly, didn't even leave time for you to process what just happened.

Your eyes opened in surprise, you were sure you were close to crying. Fuck, this has to be a lie. Out of all the times he messed with you, this is surely the worst one, you were sure — and this is a big exaggeration, but after having two orgasms completely ruined the time had finally come: Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't last to see another day.

Staring at an empty room and hearing your boyfriend's unhinged laughter, you promised yourself you would do a thousand times worse. But not before (lovingly) slapping the hell out of him.

"Yoon Jeonghan!"

# — © 2025 hansoleil ᯓ★ masterlist.

[jadedrrose]

𝐖𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

request: "with a s/o who pampers him after a long training session— they make him his favorite pumpkin soup, give him lots of water, wipe his sweat, tend to his wounds (if he ever has any) and give him lots of kisses!! Angeal and Genesis witness all of that mushy gushy stuff, and like to tease Seph behind his back"

word count: 1697 warnings: female reader (she/her pronouns used), non-sexual nudity (they take a bath together), pre-nibelheim seph, fluff note: I saw a tweet about a "theory" (?) that the first class SOLDIERs share a living space but have separate rooms, so I used that idea for this fic.

Sitting on the plush couch in the first’s living quarters, you read a book, keeping an eye on the pumpkin soup which currently simmers on the stove. You’ve been preparing it for the past few hours, knowing Sephiroth was having a particularly busy, and exhausting, day. Glancing up from your book you read the digital clock on the side-table, finding that it’s getting fairly late. Your boyfriend had said he’d only be training for about an hour after completing his missions for the day- so what was the holdup?

However, your question was answered upon hearing the sound of voices entering the room. Genesis, who’d been loudly boasting about how he’d beaten both Angeal and Sephiroth in training, paused, presumably taking in the scent that filled the room. “It would seem that someone’s been in here, cooking.”

The three men step out from the doorway into the main living area, and you can hear Sephiroth just barely whisper your name. You put your book down, getting up to greet him. Pushing past the other two men, you smile and wrap your arms around your boyfriend, who returns the hug. You can feel his exhaustion in the embrace. Holding him tighter, your lips meet in a soft, short-lived kiss. 

“What are we reading today?” Genesis asks, picking your book up from where you left it. 

“A murder mystery,” you reply, reluctantly letting go of Sephiroth. “Sorry to say it isn’t your beloved Loveless.” 

“Hmph. How many times have I asked you to read it, now?”

You roll your eyes, and nod to Angeal, silently greeting him. “Too many to count,” you finally reply. “I’ll get to it… eventually.”

“Perhaps you’d have more time to read it if you didn’t spend it all pampering the golden child,” the redhead laments.

“Let her do with her free time as she wishes, Genesis,” Angeal cuts in. 

Before Genesis can playfully bicker some more, Sephiroth speaks up, “did you make pumpkin soup?”

“Yep! I knew you’d be having a long day, so…” you bashfully look down, finding his warm gaze makes your heart beat too quickly. “And I did make enough for you guys, too,” you say, turning to Genesis and Angeal. “It’s ready when you all are.”

The two men rush into the kitchen, grabbing the bowls you’d placed on the table and hastily scooping the soup into their dishes. Sephiroth, however, stays back and gives your upper arm a squeeze. “Thank you,” he quietly says. “I really appreciate you doing this.” 

His gaze now tells you that he’s very tired, and so you decide you’ll run him a bath after dinner. But for now, you give him a loving smile, before sneaking in another quick kiss and pulling him into the kitchen by his wrist. 

—

Once all four of you have eaten, Angeal and Sephiroth are washing and putting away the dishes, and so you take the time to go prepare a bath for you and Sephiroth. As the water slowly fills the tub, you wait, leaning against the vanity. 

“Can the baby not even fill a bath for himself?” Someone says, and you nearly jump a couple feet into the air, temporarily scared. 

You turn to find Genesis at the door, arms crossed in front of himself. “Someone must be jealous that they don’t have anyone to dote on them,” You sigh, “what are you doing in here?” 

Genesis extends an arm, holding out a copy of Loveless. “Decided I’d bring you this so that it would be ready for you to read at any time. And perhaps seeing it will serve as a reminder.”

You shake your head, but you’re smiling anyway. Taking the book, you go to put it on the side of the dresser that Sephiroth let you have. “Thanks.”

“No need to thank me. In fact, you can keep it.”

“You don’t want your beloved book back?” You ask.

“That’s a spare copy,” he replies.

Of course he has multiple copies, you then roll your eyes at the idea of him having a bookshelf dedicated to it. 

—

Back in the kitchen, Sephiroth places the silverware back into the drawer and then dries off the counter. Just as he’s about to retreat into his room for the night, Angeal closes the fridge door- having put the remaining soup away- and turns to him. “You’ve really got her wrapped around your finger, huh?” 

“What do you mean?” Sephiroth raises an eyebrow. 

“She cooks your favorite meals, and prepares baths for you. Don’t tell me she brushes your hair, too.”

Sephiroth frowns, knowing he can’t deny that, and Angeal laughs in response. 

“Anyway, what I’m saying is you’ve found yourself a nice, honorable woman,” Angeal clarifies. “Don’t let that go.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Sephiroth nearly scoffs. You’re quite literally the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and the thought of him losing you was his biggest fear. If he ever let you go, he’d never forgive himself.

“We’ll I’m just saying… maybe you should do something to thank her. Show her how forever dedicated to her you are.”

Sephiroth contemplates what Angeal means by that for a moment, before quietly asking, “are you suggesting that I pro-“

“Your bath awaits you, princess,” Genesis announces, entering the kitchen. “Your love is waiting to pamper her baby.”

Sephiroth lowers his head, hoping his hair might hide the blush that spreads across his face. “I’m not her baby.”

The other two men burst into laughter. “I’m afraid I have to agree with Genesis. She really does mother you sometimes, huh?” Angeal chuckles. 

“Don’t keep her waiting, baby,” Genesis teases. 

Rolling his eyes, Sephiroth leaves the kitchen, heading straight for his room. He locks the door behind himself and finds you leaving the bathroom, a silky robe in your favorite color wrapped around yourself. It seems you’ve just changed into it, then.

“Um, you can… go in,” you step aside, letting Sephiroth into the bathroom. 

You’re about to let him undress himself in privacy before you remember all of the gear he has to take off. You quickly turn around and follow him into the en-suite, helping him remove all of the armor and belts. You then pull his coat off for him, tossing it into the laundry basket before reaching to undo the straps across his chest, but it’s then that you spot a cut on his chest. “Seph, you’re hurt!” You cry, dropping to your knees to get medical supplies out from the vanity’s cabinets. 

You’re stopped in your tracks as Sephiroth pulls you back up, shaking his head. “I can wash it in the bath. It’s already healed quite a bit, anyway.”

You sigh, taking a closer look at the wound. He’s right, it has already healed much faster than it would’ve if it was on you. You suppose that it’s due to the mako treatments he receives. 

Once Sephiroth is down to just his pants, you let him fully undress and get into the tub, keeping your eyes averted. 

“Don’t act as though you’ve never seen me naked before,” he calls from the bath. “Join me,” he then invites.

“But I want to-“

He shushes you with a finger to his lips, before grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer. From there, he pulls at the ribbon keeping your robe together, watching with a mischievous gaze as it falls to the floor. His slitted pupils grow wider at the sight of you, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just relax with me, love,” he coaxes, making room for you to sit in front of him. To your surprise, once you’re in the warm, soothing water with him, Sephiroth makes no move to indicate he wants anything sexual out of this. Instead, he yawns, closing his eyes.

“You seem exhausted,” you say, running a hand through his hair, dampening it. “Rough day?”

“Somewhat,” he grumbles. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, sweetly, before putting some of his floral-scented shampoo into your hand. “Let me take care of you?” 

It comes out as more of a statement, but you still wait for his permission; he can sometimes be so avoidant about these things, like he doesn’t feel as though he deserves to be taken care of. Sephiroth nods, and so you reach around him, and begin massaging the shampoo into his hair, starting at his scalp. Gently, your fingers dip under his silver locks and you lightly scratch his head, the shampoo quickly foaming up as you do so. You then slowly work your way down the long length, and finally help him rinse it.

Once his whole in-shower hair routine is done, you move to sit behind him and rub his back, working your soft hands over his muscles. He sighs as you help him relax, and after a short while of giving him a massage, you can feel- and see- that he’s nearly half asleep. You stop and wrap your arms around his torso, resting your head against the top of his back and neck, his silky hair pushed over his shoulder. You press a kiss to his pale skin, and it’s then he mumbles something you can’t quite decipher.

“Hm?” 

“I wanna hold you…” he says slightly louder, but his exhaustion is now extremely clear in his voice. Smiling, you get up. “How about I help you dry off and you can hold me in bed?”

“…yeah,” he agrees.

And so you drain the water, give Sephiroth a towel that he uses to dry himself from the stomach down, while you wrap a towel around yourself and get yet another towel for his hair. 

Many towels later, he’s in a pair of sweatpants and you’re in one of his t-shirts, dragging him to bed. As soon as he’s laid down, Sephiroth grabs your waist with a scarily fast speed, tugging you down with him. “Thank you for everything… I love you,” he groggily says. Holding you in his arms, he buries his face between your neck and shoulder, giving your skin a light kiss as he drifts off into sleep. You smile yet again, placing your hands over his own as you follow him into a peaceful slumber.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 𓆩♡𓆪 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

[sweetiesicheng]

vernon - reaction

word count : 645

and of course, happy birthday to nonie ~

-

you change the screen from your starting overlay.

"hello friends! thank you for joining me on my live stream today," you greet everyone. you watch the chat log fly as your audience members greet you. "i'm sorry for being late today. my computer decided that it needed to update itself instead of letting me stream."

you read the messages that are sent into chat for a second. 

"i'm listening to an album today," you answer someone's question. "just one for today, and i’ll take suggestions towards the end.”

svtcarat05: yes! another album review!

ynfan0202: pop??? is anyone good charting?

ynbot: !! please abide to all rules before sending messages to keep our chat safe and friendly !! :)

rocky900: is it vernon's new album? it's pretty sick

lsm33: what about s.coup's album?

cheolcheol: @lsm33 they listened to it last stream

you go onto the stream setup and change the screen that is showing on the livestream. a music platform appears, and you click on the album that you'll be listening to. 

"alright friends! we'll be listening to vernon's new album called "abyss." i have the album ready and the music videos," you announce to everyone. "we'll listen to the album first before we watch the music videos," you add. 

mysticsvt: what vernon's album?!

boototheseungtothekwan: yes!!!

cloversun37: who's vernon?

vernonnonver: some good stuff today

svtlover14: VERNON !!! MY BIAS

caratsunite: abyss and surface are my favorite songs

"wait, wait, wait, before i start...let me do something," you say and pick up your phone. you unlock it and call someone. 

the call picks up, "uh huh?"

"what are you doing?" you ask vernon. 

"nothing much, just out," he answers. "what's up?”

"i'm listening to your new album today."

"you haven't listened to it yet?"

"i need the content."

the door opens and vernon walks into your office. he holds his phone up to his ear, "it kind of hurts that you haven't listened to it yet. i even gave you a signed cd."

you end the call and laugh while starting to read the now frenzied chat. vernon pulls up a chair and looks at the chat too. 

"why are all of the messages coming in so fast?" vernon asks you. “i can’t read any of them.”

"i mean, you are kind of a big deal," you reply to him. 

hamstertiger: THERE'S NO WAY

thisis_redtoo: twitter was right! they are friends!

seventeenteenteenteen: hi vernon!!!

97line97: vernon !!!!!

lovemoneymingyu: VERNON

"sorry guys, i'm putting chat in slow mode because you guys are crazy today," you say and change the settings on another monitor. "for anyone who doesn't know, this guy next to me is vernon. we're listening to his album that just came out a few days ago."

"hi guys," vernon greets, "i was standing outside for like two hours waiting to come in here."

"he's lying! i would never do that to someone," you immediately interject. 

"you left me at the beach," vernon reminds you. 

"because you were asleep! seungkwan and dino were with you anyways," you say to him. "alright, let's get started! vernon, pick which song we should start with."

"oh, artist's choice? we can start with "abyss" first," vernon says while you press play on the his album. 

—

after ending the stream, you lean back in your chair and look at vernon. 

"so, how was your first time on one of the streams?" you ask him, wanting to hear his opinion since he is your first guest. 

"you did a good job. it was fun getting to be on this side of it," he says to you. "you really like my album, huh?" he asks, referring to your reactions. 

"well it is my boyfriend's album," you reply. 

vernon chuckles, "thanks for the support," he says to you and leans in to kiss your cheek. 

"anything for my favorite artist."

"and the content."

"it helps pay the bills.”

[lvrface]

hellaur!! can you write a ponyboy curtis fic where reader is his first girlfriend and he has nooo idea what to do so he goes to soda for advice constantly?

𝜗𝜚 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭 — when you know, you know

synopsis. ponyboy is clueless about girls, but luckily his older brother is just the expert.

ship. ponyboy curtis x fem!reader

warnings. none, not proofread

word count. 2359

notes. first time writing for outsiders in a long time so i hope this is good! thanks for requesting mwah

ponyboy curtis was stumped, and that didn’t happen often.

he liked to deem himself as smart— and he was. so it wasn’t everyday that he found himself stuck on something, unclear and unsure.

and it definitely wasn’t everyday he went to his brother, sodapop curtis, for some intellectual advice. but he knew soda knew more about the world of girls, than he would ever know.

“so then, just give her a small wink, hand on her back and that million dollar smile!” soda exclaimed excitedly. he stood in front ponyboy, as pony was sat on the couch listened intently.

pony nodded slowly, with his eyebrows furrowed, “yeah, uh, no,” ponyboy dismissed with a small chuckle.

“what? i thought that was pretty good— steve, d’ya think that would work, huh?” soda turned to steve for some reassurance who just nodded.

“yeah, yeah, thats how you get the chicks, pony,” steve said, agreeing with soda. steve was sat at the round table, not really listening to the conversation going on as he shuffled a deck of cards. pony just rolled his eyes, sinking down into the couch more.

“well first off, i already got the ‘chick’,” pony quoted, shooting steve a slight glare. god, did he always have to get involved with everything? he then turned back to his older brother, “and, besides, (y/n) ain’t really into allat stuff, y’know?” ponyboy added on sheepishly, whilst playing with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“whatcha mean she ain’t ‘into allat stuff’?” soda questioned with a raised eyebrow, trying hard to defend his flirting techniques.

“i mean, i ain’t walking up to her saying,” ponyboy started, clearing his throat, “are you from tennesse? because you’re the only ten i see,” ponyboy quoted one of the many pick up lines sodapop had spent the last 30 minutes teaching him.

“hey, i thought that was a good one,” soda defended himself with a slight pout. he took his flirting techniques and array of pick up lines, very seriously.

ponyboy sighed, as sodapop sat down on the couch next to him. “anyways, i don’t need help picking her up or flattering her— i just need help with this first date stuff,” ponyboy explained, his tone softening a bit.

soda looked back at him, nodding as a small smile took over his face once more, “yeah, okay, kid, i got you!” soda said, beginning to get excited once more.

ponyboy rolled his eyes playfully, but he did appreciate the help.

and that’s how he ended up, standing at (y/n)’s front door with a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“get her flowers, broads love flowers,” soda’s words echoed in his mind, as pony awkwardly shuffled in spot as he waited for his knock on the door to be answered.

(y/n) flung open the door, maybe a bit too over excitedly, and was taken aback by ponyboy’s appearance.

obviously, she was expecting to see him— they had this date planned for a few days now. her and ponyboy had been friendly for a while, and he gained the courage to ask her out, and here they are.

about to be on their first date.

so yeah, she was expecting to see him. but she didn’t expect to see him done up so nicely, with roses in his hand, and that sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“hey, pony,” (y/n) greeted him, breathlessly. she shut the door behind her, and brushed some rogue hair out of her face as she took a few steps to stand in front of him.

“hey,” he replied, trying to remain as casual as he could.

but god she looked so pretty.

“thanks,” (y/n) said to his compliment, a faint blush taking over her cheeks.

damn, he said that out loud.

snapping out of his little trance, he raised the flowers up to her, “uh, here, they’re for you,” he told her, becoming shy. he looked to the ground.

(y/n) couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, and took the flowers off of him, “thanks, pony, that’s real cute of ya.”

(y/n) quickly scurried back into her house to put the flowers down, before making her return.

ponyboy raised his arm slightly, to motion her to link arms with him, “let’s get going,” he told her softly, to which she just nodded and linked arms with him.

the pair got to walking, talking— well mainly it was ponyboy talking about whatever was on his mind, whilst (y/n) just happily nodded along.

“those flowers were real nice, pony,” (y/n) interrupted him, midst rant.

ponyboy looked to her, a soft smile playing on his lips. “it’s nothing really,” he shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but (y/n) didn’t let the blush that painted his cheeks go unnoticed.

ponyboy made a mental note of that, soda was right.

girls really do love flowers.

“you ain’t even kissed her yet?”

ponyboy rolled his eyes at the statement coming from dallas, who was sat on the couch, eavesdropping on the conversation going on between ponyboy and sodapop.

“yeah, well, some of us don’t put our dick in everything that has a hole, dallas,” ponyboy retorted, to which dallas chuckled.

“okay, romeo,” dallas quipped sarcastically, his words muffled from the cigarette that dangled from his lips.

ponyboy just shot dallas a glare before sodapop spoke up, “nah, don’t worry, pony, i get ya! wanting to wait for the right moment,” sodapop said, defending ponyboy with a pat on the back as they stood in the kitchen.

“wait— have you even ever kissed anyone before?” dallas spoke up once more, looking to ponyboy with an amused expression.

red took over ponyboy’s face as he looked to the ground, scratching the back of his neck, leaving dallas cackling in the background making a number of comments.

“leave him alone, dal,” soda said, before turning his attention back to ponyboy.

“look, all you gotta do is just look in her eyes— make some nice comment, i don’t know, tell her she got pretty eyes or somethin’,” sodapop said, shrugging as got a drink out of the fridge. “let her receive the compliment, then just lean in— go for it, i mean she’s your girlfriend or whatever right? not like she’s gonna reject ya,” sodapop finalised, taking a seat at the table.

ponyboy wished it was as simple and easy sodapop was making it sound. maybe to soda it was that easy, but to ponyboy it was more than that.

but all he said was, “okay, yeah, thanks,” and walked away to his room.

it had been around a month since their first date, and ponyboy and (y/n) had been getting closer and closer by the minute. they practically spent every spare minute they had together, talking, laughing, reading, whatever occupied them.

and that’s how ponyboy ended up, on a park bench, reading a book he borrowed from the school library to (y/n).

truth be told, (y/n) didn’t really enjoy books. well, she didn’t not enjoy them but she just never really took time out of her day to read any. that was until ponyboy came along, and suddenly the books seemed so exciting when it was his voice she was listening to.

but at this moment, (y/n) wasn’t listening to his voice at all, she just opted to stare at his face. she studied every freckle that grazed his cheeks, his focus too concentrated on the lines in front of him.

ponyboy could feel her stare on him, but he tried his hardest to just keep focused on the words in front of him. but after a certain point, he couldn’t keep it together, and just cleared his throat. he closed the book slowly, “uh, i’ll read the rest later. my eyes are getting tired,” he said, making up an excuse as put the book to his side.

“yeah, okay,” (y/n) replied with a nod, feeling as if she had just been caught.

the two just sat there for a moment, a silence taking over them. it wasn’t awkward, it never was, but there was some tension as they both jusy twiddled their thumbs— avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“hey—“ they both started, turning to face one another at the same time. the pair couldn’t help but chuckle at the awkward moment.

at the same time, they both looked at each other slowly. ponyboy noticed the crinkle by her eyes, as she smiled, and (y/n) noticed the way his lips turned curved into a small smile.

“what?” (y/n) chuckled, suddenly getting embarrassed. she was wondering why he was staring. “do i have something on my face?” she asked, her hand immediately going to pat around her face.

“i— uh, no,” ponyboy said, grabbing her wrist to slowly bring it down back by her side.

(y/n) looked at pony with a confused expression, tilting her head to the side, “then what?” she asked, laughing.

ponyboy couldn’t think what to say—

“you’ve got really pretty eyes.”

shit, now he had to do the whole thing.

right, let her receive the compliment.

a smile took over (y/n)’s face, she became almost embarrassed at the compliment. she wasn’t really used to them. “thanks, ponyboy, you do too,” she complimented him.

okay, great, next step.

next step, lean in, right?

ponyboy just stared into her eyes, admiring the different shades of colours that all moulded together well to create the perfect colour.

his hand raised ever so slowly, to grab the side of her face softly. he carefully leaned in, as if he was scared to hurt her, and pressed his lips gently against hers.

(y/n) felt her heart rate quicken, and she felt the thumps coming from ponyboy’s chest as his body pressed against hers.

ponyboy internally sighed with relief, that she never pulled away— or turned him away. it was all going to plan.

maybe soda was onto something.

“soda?” ponyboy called out. they were in their shared bed, trying to get to sleep, their backs turned to one another.

“yeah, pony?” soda yawned, rolling round. he propped himself up on his elbow, prepared to listen to ponyboy.

“how do you tell someone— a girl, you love her?”

soda couldn’t help but laugh at that, “gee, is my kid brother in love?” he said, with a teasing tone.

pony just shrugged at that, his back still facing soda.

sodapop sighed, thinking about to answer, “tell her, when it’s just y’all. tell her when you look at her and think, damn, ‘i never noticed just how pretty she is until she’s in this lighting.’ and when you know, for sure,” sodapop answered.

ponyboy listened intently, his hand fiddling with the blanket that covered him. he sometimes wondered how soda got so much slack for being ‘stupid’ when he casually comes out with remarks like this that make you debate everything in your life.

“how do you know, when you’re in love?” ponyboy asked, his voice so quiet he wasn’t sure soda heard.

sodapop laughed softly at that, sinking back down into the bed on his back. “god, kid,” soda let out, sighing, as he thought about it. “you just know, y’know?”

ponyboy huffed out at that answer, it wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. “no, actually i don’t know,” pony replied, with a small pout as he rolled over.

“yeah, sure you do, pony,” sodapop replied, “chances are, if you’re asking how do you know— thats your answer, you know.”

and with that sodapop, rolled back over, to try and drift off to sleep. ponyboy pondered on that thought for a while, and at first he thought it made no sense at all.

but when he was sat on his front porch steps, with (y/n) tucked into his side as they shared a milkshake they bought earlier— the sunset they were looking at illuminating her face, he suddenly understood.

damn, i never did notice how pretty she really was until now.

“yeah, i’d like to live in the countryside,” (y/n) answered his question from a few moments prior.

“bet it’d be real peaceful,” ponyboy added on, his hand beginning to rub small patterns onto her arm.

(y/n) hummed in agreement as she wrapped her lips around the milkshake straw to take a sip. she put the milkshake down next to her, and swallowed, before looking back at pony, “we should move to the countryside when we’re older,” she declared, moving slightly closer to him.

that sentence done something to ponyboy. the thought that (y/n) really wanted to stay with him and thought about a future with him awakened something inside of him. he looked down at her, who was simply just resting her head on his chest— unknowing to the effect she just had on him by a simple, innocent sentence.

ponyboy looked at the situation in front of him. it’s just them two. she’s looking real pretty— and goddamnit, he knows.

sodapop was right— was he a psychic or something?

“ponyboy, you okay?” (y/n) asked, looking up at him to be met with an almost puzzled expression.

ponyboy looked back down at her, and it all just made sense.

“i love you.”

he blurted it out, it was shocking to him how the words seemed so nice coming out of his mouth— especially if it was to her.

ponyboy’s heart thumped and he felt his mouth go dry, as he awaited a response.

(y/n)’s lips that were slightly swollen from the cold milkshake, turned into a wide grin. she excitedly planted a kiss on his cheek, her red lip stick leaving a mark that was definitely going to give the gang a reason to tease him later.

“i love you too, ponyboy.”

sodapop curtis might’ve not been the most book smart kid going— hell, he wouldn’t have even made it onto the list. but when it came to love, he might as well have been einstein.

ponyboy just smiled back down at her, tugging her closer under his arm as their conversation wandered back to the clouds, and the orange hues of the sunset.

pony couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at the girl tucked under his shoulder.

yeah, soda was definitely onto something.

[celestiallystella]

Mer Legend/Link x gn!reader

back on my merman legend propaganda

progression of legend x reader, but with a strong focus on mer legend instead of hylian legend! won't have anything to do w/the chain, so he will simply be called link (though even then its used very little lol), and reader is a hylian native to legends hyrule :)

its prtty long, a lot of my rambles about him, but yk

hope you enjoy!

the first time you two meet he's in his mer form

youre in absolute DISBELIEF

youve been pretty sheltered most of your life, so you havent gone out and seen/experienced much, and now that you live by yourself you don't put any effort into learning about what everyone in the larger parts of hyrule think/know

you definitely dont think merfolk are real

AND YET heres this blonde haired mer, blinking up at you from the water

he looks just as shocked as you do

theres a lot of attempted gaslighting on his part

he isn't real, youre totally making him up, mer people?? nahhhh never

you, of course, don't believe him

he must realize he can swim away, because he does just that, leaving you hanging

it becomes a common thing, though, to stumble across this really odd mer

thankfully, over a lot of time, he starts to stick around a bit more and you guy get to talk

you learn his name is link, and that he's rather grumpy (though, maybe that's a bad word for it. tense and untrusting, maybe?)

he never answers ANY of your questions about what it's like to be a mer, and he'll often leave right after you ask him any questions

so, you learn not to ask questions!

instead, you talk about yourself, your interests, your family, your friends, just.. everything

the first few times, he doesn't seem to be really listening to anything you say. he's just collecting a lot of stuff off of the riverbed and stowing them away.

(the first time you ask what he's collecting he near growls, gets clearly embarrassed about that and promptly flees. you don't ask again)

either way, at some point he starts listening to you as he gathers materials.

he's not sure when he started to like listening to you talk, but it happened at some point and now he's come to look forward to it a lot

he gaslights himself into thinking its just funny to listen to your complaints when he's done and gone through so much. that it was just nice to be reminded that not everyone in hyrule is going through literal hell

it gets harder to convince himself that's his reasoning when he realizes he doesn't need to go back to the river near your house anymore

he doesn't want to go somewhere he doesn't need to, but eventually he gets super stressed by everything he has to deal with and decides thats a good enough excuse to go listen to some random person's ramblings

at that point, though, it's probably been weeks, so you've also stopped going

why would you go when the mer you liked talking.. uh.. to isn't there?

so, he shows up and is promptly bummed when he realizes you aren't there.

we all love link, i know, but you guys i fear he's a little dumb, so the thought of... taking the mermaid suit off never crosses his mind.

like he could take it off and just go knock on your door like a normal hylian would, but he could also depressingly lay on the riverbed like his lover has gone off to war and hasn't responded to any of his letters

anyway.

he repeats this a couple of times before deciding you've gotta come down eventually, right? and even he'll admit it at this point; he's starting to miss you

so everytime he comes, he'll bring an itty bitty shell of some sort and set it on the shoreline.

you think he's a mer, and he doesn't plan on telling you he isnt, so he might as well play into that

and hes right, eventually you do go down to the river and see the little pile of shells he's left you, like he's a bird waiting for his owner

you're definitely a bit surprised, but you collect the shells.

you go down early the next day with the shells in hand, a knife, and some string

as you wait to see if he'll turn up, you carve little holes into the shells and pull string through them

they're a bit too big for a necklace, unfortunately, but you can still make it into a decoration of some sort no issue.

he does show up eventually, and he gives you a smile when he sees you, which is probably one of the first youve seen from him. its small, but its meaningful

so anyway, you thank him for the shells, he gets a bit embarrassed and defensive, so you quickly move on

you start up the old routine of rambling on about different things

at first you had set your work aside to chatter, but unlike before when he would swim around while you talked and he gave idle, bland comments, now he sits with his arms crossed on the bank, head sitting on them and staring at you unnervingly

so, you pick the shells back up and keep working while he watches you

this guy does not realize he's acting weird in your eyes, so he remains where he is, tail and most of his upper body floating in the water, his chin and arms on the river bank

that becomes the new routine! eventually though, you do run out of shells to use and have to face his stare

for a minute the first time you stutter and choke on your words - you live in relative solitude, and, as aforementioned, you were relatively sheltered, so you really arent used to people paying such close attention to you and your words

you get by it though!

he does catch on at that point, and makes it a point to look away or start scratching random designs into the dirt under his hand whenever you end up stuttering again, which helps to get you more relaxed

he isn't really sure at what point during this he starts offering more about himself to you, but he does

his age, the fact that he's done a lot, how stressed he is (though, never the details) and other miscellaneous things, like his enjoyment of traveling and magic

youre thrilled to learn what you can about link

and after you find out about his tendency to hoard things, you offer the shells he gave you that you strung up back

he declines, and says that they were meant for you anyway, so you might as well keep them

i think thats when he realizes he must have developed some romantic feelings for you at some point, and just hadnt picked up on them

it definitely scares him at first

the last time he'd felt anything towards someone that he was confident he could label as being romantic, it was marin, and.. well..

so, yeah, it scares him off for a little bit.

you learned your lesson last time he disappeared, and still go down to the river pretty frequently.

anything that's not a house chore and can be done wherever starts to get done by the river, and that's just how it is now

he does come back eventually

he realizes that he knows damn well he isn't dreaming (though sometimes he isn't sure, but ever since all of that happened, hes never been too sure about anything)

he also decides that if this, if you, are a dream, maybe its a sign from Hylia herself to just kinda stop falling for people

so anyway, when he comes back he brings one of his necklaces with him. hes not sure if youll like it, or if youll wear it, but its really simple

just a black cord, and a small charm on it thats enchanted for protection

when he gives it to you, youre thrilled

maybe you wear jewelry a lot, maybe you dont, but either way its something easy to slip on and off and it's rather nondescript

plus its from link so of course you wear it

anyway, it snowballs from there and he starts gifting you random, small items

theyre either enchanted to protect you in some way, or they really are just random items

eventually YOU realize you like him too

for you i wanna say its an easy thing to accept. you like this silly, grumpy mer guy, and thats that

so youd confess first, probably after you confirm its not just a fleeting crush, and link probably glitches or something

anyway, you guys would totally have your first kiss with him awkwardly half out of the water and you on your knees crouched down

you fall in right afterwards, because the angle is so awkward

i think at this point he'd be worried you wouldnt like him once you find out hes not a merman, and he isn't really sure how youd react to him not being one, so i think he'd just show up at your door injured one night and panicking (though he won't say he's panicking)

you, also, panic before doing your best to help him

blah blah blah, he heals up, you guys talk about the fact that he is not, in fact, half fish, and you reassure him you dont only love him because hes half fish

thatd be silly of you

its something i think youd probably have to reinstate throughout your relationship with decreasing frequency over time

he never admits hes a bit insecure, but youve learnt to read his silent signals over time, so you can tell

he does appreciate it a lot, and he appreciates you even more

he's forever glad he decided on the river by your house to gather materials from

though, sometimes he still expects to wake up and find out it was all a dream (he never talks to you about that one, i fear)

idk might take this and do more with it, i kinda just rambled a loott and it all feels like it might be a decent template for a full fanfic but who knows!! not me, thats for sure LMAO

[carmenized-onions]

It’s been a little while since you’ve posted on here so I hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself!!! 💖

my darling loves, I'm so sorry

I'VE BEEN SO EMBARRASSED. I HAVEN'T WANTED TO SHOW MY FACE AROUND THIS TOWN BECAUSE I'VE GOT NOTHING TO SHOW FOR MYSELF AFTER TAKING SUCH A LONG TIME AWAY FROM YOU ALL.

I've been. violently busy. in a good way, mostly. One of my jobs is the best job in the world and the other one is such a bitch it makes me scream every day forever.

but i'm also spending time with friends and enjoying life !

My mom also finished her last chemo appointment just a few weeks ago!!! YIPEEE!!!! Her CT Scans look GOOD!! so no chemo for the foreseeable future. She's unfortunately got the type of cancer that doesn't go away, but at the very least, it's MANAGEABLE. And that's a huge win. I'm very very grateful.

I ALSO FOUND A THERAPIST!!! gone to 2 sessions so far. every session she uncovers a new fucked up facet of me and honestly, can anyone else relate to this, it's sort of nice for someone else to look at your life and go like "oh wow. oh wow there's like. there's like so much here." like it feels good to think oh hurray. i'm not crazy. life IS fucked!

MY BROTHER MOVED!!! this took up a lot of my time, honestly. i love him and my nephew and my sister in law dearly. so i spent a long time making their gifts. i'm silly.

OUR CAT GOT SICK!!! HE'S GOT PEE CRYSTALS CAUSE HE'S OLD!!!!! HE'S DOING OKAY NOW THOUGH!! HIS STUPID URINARY FOOD IS SO EXPENSIVE THOUGH!!!

ANYWAYS. those are my major life updates right. So what's with the no chapter happening??

i. hated. the draft i'm working on so much. that i didn't work on it for like. a month.

and then in a haze. i left myself this voice to text note in my notes app as i was falling asleep one night.

then i hated that too. a week passes. perhaps two, actually.

i finally gain the courage one night to read my draft over.

it's actually not bad at all

it's actually pretty good

some scenes definitely need reworking but that's because i need to fully realize some character feelings

I just had really intense writers' block and fatigue, honestly. But i'm finally writing and EXCITED about it, again. I'm pulling that shit up on my commute and writing whenever i can. which makes me really happy. i was not loving the way it felt like a chore, for a minute there.

that said.

100% going to be more realistic with this chapter waiting timeline, and put a 'hiatus' or some sort of 'delays' tracker on my landing page. cause like. i keep saying check back in 2 weeks. and that's not fair to me or you girl. let's keep it real.

i think we're like.... hm... 50-60% there. (i'll update my landing the day after this post, it's late and i'm eepy)

i MIGHT write some blurbs in the mean time, it really depends. i keep having ideas and then they blink out of existence. perhaps send ideas. i might do something with them.

BUT YES I AM OKAY AND ALIVE. My silence came from a LOT of life stuff getting in the way and also a lot of honestly embarrassment. i hate coming out here over and over and being like haha. i've got nothing <3

but i know that y'all will understand, and i need to trust in y'all's patience more. and i'm GONNA!!!

gonna try to start up my 'answering one ask a day' trend again. except wednesdays. i work late on wednesdays so fuck that. but perhaps all the other days you'll hear from me.

alright. i'm going to shut up now. was any of this coherent? i don't know. thank you for listening!! i missed you dearly!!

[discjude]

Oh boy oh boy its the discjude official COVEN bingo card!!! not many are about the coven themselves because i uh uh don't know too much about them but yeah. I've put a brief explanation of each of these under the cut (because a few are vague) (WARNING its a lot):

Lady Lesso mentioned: this one sort of coincides with "hester true evil speech". I reckon she's important enough to the witches to warrant a mention. Also. I think all of the Lessos might be relevant but I talk about that in my predictions

Obligatory Sophie cameo: she's Soman's favourite. She's showing up

Political commentary: based off of his substack, I don't think Soman will go too overt with it, but I think there'll be a more roundabout one. I'd love to see him address the fact that he wrote in that homophobia is a thing in SGE. Soman if you can hear me

Drag race reference: He's done this a lot before, in QFG mostly, and I think he'll do it again

TCY acknowledged: this could be like a "haha yeah you remember how the storian almost got destroyed? that was kinda crazy aha". I have a horrible feeling that he's going to completely skip over that part of canon

Hester gives a speech about "true evil": i mean come ooonnnnnnn. I also think this'll include something about evil love that contradicts the canon about it

No blatant fatphobia regarding dot: Soman phased this out in TCY I think he'll have stuck with it

Rats are, somehow, back. Not explained: Japeth killed at least one of those things and I genuinely think Soman will have forgotten it

Events of R+F acknowledged: ties into my predictions a bit, but I reckon the setup regarding neverland and the other stuff in Fall might come up

I'm right about my predictions: I think the entire thing looks very aquatic themed, and there's a lot regarding evil water stuff, so a) the mermaids are relevant b) the saders are (still) relevant c) the lessos are relevant. that's the big three in my opinion. I can't wait to be horrifically wrong

Storian still at fault: i mean. name one book where it isn't. and you cant say OTK that doesnt COUNT

Symbolic ending of the series thing: I want the storian dead. thats what this one means

Obligatory tagatha: come onnnnnnnnn

There is at least one twink: yeah. not much to say here

Vaguely pub-style setting: this one also includes "why is everything british" because i said so

None Japeth: Japeth is mentioned by name exactly no times. I'd love to have faith but I really don't

Tennis reference: I fucking CAUGHT Botic being a tennis player's surname in the prequels. he's GOING to try it again

Colour/lighting symbolism: have a draft rn about colour symbolism in SGE and I think Soman might lean into it

At least one snake: please i want to feel something

hestadil real: come ON he's doing this every tiktok post about coven has had the hestadil tag he's doing this

Aric is referenced: goes with my predictions and lady lesso being mentioned. I hate to say it I think he's far more likely to be referenced than Japeth

Big unanswered question gets answered: the BIG!! one is the Aric Dad Reveal. I want to know for parallel reasons and I think it could happen. maybe

no wait! We'll use the power of friendship: speaks for itself. something like this happens

major character death: goodbye dot. im being fr I think she's dying in coven

Thank you dearly to @liketwoswansinbalance for some of these entries I really struggled to think of some. Also no I'm not convinced of my predictions. But it'd be nice. right

[phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing]

The funniest thing about being a Honkai lore enthusiast is that sometimes you think you have something that makes sense based off hints, but then the truth turns out to be much, much weirder