#i can see it so clearly in my head like the silence between them and they're nodding their head in silence and then one of them says

[sleepywinchesters]

Can I ask for anything buddietommy soft sexy smut thingies 👀

"Hey baby," Eddie said, settling into bed behind Tommy.

Buck was sprawled across half the bed, one arm slung over Tommy, a leg hanging off the end of the bed, snoring softly. Tommy was on his side facing him.

"Hey. How was your shift?"

"Boring. Couple car accidents, kitchen fire, heart attacks. Nothing too wild."

He snuggled closer against Tommy's back, pressing a line of kisses down his neck. Tommy was shirtless and Eddie could already feel himself perking up, dick twitching in his briefs.

"Little pent up there?" Tommy asked.

"Thought about you guys all shift. Was hoping Buck would still be awake."

Tommy turned carefully, doing his best not disrupt Buck's sleep. He earned a soft snuffle, a break in the steady snores, but managed to face Eddie without waking up their partner. He tugged Eddie into a deep kiss, licking into his mouth, hands working up under his shirt.

"I think I can manage," Tommy said, pulling away.

"I think you can," Eddie said.

He sat up, pulling his shirt off. He pulled Tommy back into a kiss letting himself get lost in it. He could feel Tommy's hands clutch his back, rubbing long lines up and down. He pressed against Tommy, grinding a little against his thigh.

"Take what you need, baby. Evan got me off earlier. Wanna feel you."

"Tell me about it," Eddie said, tilting his head back, letting Tommy trail a line of kisses down his neck.

He heard Buck stir behind Tommy, and it only took a second for his rumpled curls to appear above Tommy's shoulder. He was clearly only half awake, but getting with the program. He pressed a kiss to the back of Tommy's neck before resting his head on Tommy's shoulder.

"I'll tell you all about it," Buck said. "Tommy, suck him off."

"Sir, yes sir," Tommy said, pulling a laugh out of them both.

Tommy turned to kiss Buck, carefully angling it so Eddie could see their tongues tangle. Buck's resulting groan was more than enough to get him the rest of the way hard, and he shucked his pants and underwear, tossing them to the side of the bed to be dealt with later. Tommy adjusted his thigh, giving Eddie a better angle to grind against him, leaving a trail of precome along the muscle.

"It's too bad you were on shift, Eds. He was so pretty for me, opened up nice and easy."

Tommy flicked one of Eddie's nipples before capturing it between his fingers to pull a little. Eddie arched up into it instinctively, Tommy's hands familiar with how sensitive he could be with the right amount of pressure.

"Bet he's probably still open," Buck said. "Had him rolling against my face, begging for more, even when I was already 3 fingers deep. You know how he gets so flushed when he gets desperate for it, huh Eddie? Just like you do."

Tommy shoved back the covers, the cool air making him and Buck both shiver. His hand wrapped around Eddie's cock, jerking him slowly. Eddie grunted, pushing his hips forward. Tommy was level with his hip now, pressing a kiss there.

"Thought he told you to suck me off," Eddie said, grabbing his curls.

"Thought you weren't gonna be a brat about it," Buck said. "C'me here."

Near silence fell over everything. It was just the sound of Tommy's hand stroking him, skin on skin, and Buck kissing him. The wet noises of their mouths made him twitch in Tommy's grasp. He knew Tommy wasn't going to be able to go again tonight, and neither was Buck probably, but it was nice to hope. He moaned into Buck's mouth when Tommy finally gave a kitten lick to the head of his cock.

"Where was I?" Buck asked.

"Telling me how good our man is for you. How well he took your giant dick earlier."

"Right, right. Nice and easy, Tommy. Just the head for now. Want him to wait, see how close I can get him from just me telling him how well you did. How good you made me feel earlier. Riding me like you were born to do nothing else."

Tommy hummed his assent, the vibrations going right up Eddie's spine, making his hips twitch. Tommy gripped his hips, holding him still.

"Good job."

Buck looked between him and Eddie, Tommy's mouth work just a little, trying to suck more precome out of Eddie, just to have the tang across his tongue. He looked obscene, eyes closed, focused on Eddie. He glanced up at Eddie who watching him, waiting for him to continue.

"Should have seen his tits bounce while he was riding me," Buck said, reaching to play with Eddie's nipples. "We should put him in lace sometime. Something pretty and purple just so they aren't so distracting. Maybe tie him to the bed and get him off."

"Yes," Eddie said, finding his voice. "He'd look so good. His dick with all those pretty patterns marked into it. Fuck, Tommy. You feel so good."

Tommy had given a particularly hard suck, derailing Eddie's train of thought. His hand tightened in Tommy's hair.

"Close already, Eddie?" Buck asked, low in his ear. He dragged his teeth down Eddie's earlobe. "Wanna hear how good he felt wrapped around my cock. You know how tight he gets when he's about to come and it's all you can do to hold on? I brought him to the edge twice before I let him come, and it was only because if I did anymore I was gonna come. And now, look at him, his lips around your cock. You know he wants more right? To take you down?"

Eddie felt surrounded, affection welling in him. Heat was starting to coil in his abdomen, and he'd be embarassed by his stamina, but he'd been thinking of them all shift. Buck was touching him like he was something precious, and Tommy was focused solely on his pleasure.

"Let him have it. Buck, please. Let him. Wanna feel it."

Tommy whined, low in the back of his throat, clearly in agreement. Buck's hand joined Eddie's in Tommy's hair.

"Want him to come down your throat, Tommy? Let him fuck your face?"

Tommy pulled off enough to answer. "Yes. Yes. Eddie, please."

"Go ahead," Buck said.

Eddie felt his balls draw up, and he know Tommy did to, from the way his hand went up to roll them so gently. He returned his mouth to Eddie's dick, taking in more this time. He bobbed his head a few times, finding a real rhythm before he sunk down.

Heat surrounded Eddie, blood rushing in his ears. Buck twisted his nipple hard enough to make him gasp as Tommy sank down as far as he could, nose brushing his pubic mound. Eddie's eyes rolled back. Tommy's throat constricting around him was wonderful. All he could think was hot, wet, close."

"Go on, Eddie. Come."

Eddie was helpless to do anything but obey. Buck's voice was in his ear, Tommy's hands hot on his thighs as he let Eddie thrust into his mouth, chasing his high. It felt punched out of him, and Tommy sucked him through it, swallowing everything he had to give.

He pulled Tommy off, over-sensitivity creeping in, and pulled him up to lick the taste of himself out of his mouth. He heard Buck hum contentedly as he settled back into his pillow.

"Thanks," Eddie said, low enough for only Tommy to hear.

"Anytime. Gotta get some sleep?"

"Yeah."

Eddie sank down onto the pillow, head pillowed on Tommy's chest. Buck's hand searched for his, and he intertwined their fingers before drifting off.

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[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map pt. 20

Perhaps unsurprisingly, you feel overwhelmingly concerned with Calibani's well-being. Even as you're pulled in three other directions, the drive to go to check on her is stronger than all of them combined. A good 38% or so of your mind asks you whether you might be getting too attached to this woman-who's-actually-a-monster that you've only known for, what, two days or so? It adds that you should be careful since you've been alone for a while. You're vulnerable, you need to take care of yourself.

You tell that part of your mind to fuck off. Well over half of you thinks it's full of shit anyway.

You find your sea-monster predator-turned-friend? leaning against the side of your boat and resting her face on her hand, her eyes scanning the horizon with a troubled expression on her face. Immediately you feel your concern is justified, and you don't even hide the haste in your step as you close the distance between the two of you. "Calibani, what's wrong?"

Her eyes go wide when she hears your voice, and she hastily puts on a big smile as she turns to face you, though you notice it doesn't reach her eyes. "Oh, nothing, Sailor!" she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Just tired, is all! Fighting that gloppy monster took a lot out of me!" She smiles again, bigger and more visibly forced this time, and says. "What about you? It's can't be fun for you dealing with all these..." Her smile falters for a fraction of a second. "These monsters trying to eat you..."

It's a deflection, and not even a very good one, but you worry if you call her on that it'll scare her into withdrawing further. "It's been harrowing," you say as you keep your gaze locked on her face. "But I imagine it's worse for you, since you're a lot more vulnerable now than you used to be."

Calibani frowns briefly, her eyes big and just a little watery, but she quickly plasters a smile back on. "Oh, I've never been the biggest fish in the pond," she laughs. "It's not the first time something's hunted me, and it won't be the last. At least I have a new weapon to defend myself with." She looks at her stork-headed spear, and her smile finally becomes genuine again. "Thank you for making it, by the way."

Now you get to wave dismissively. "Please, you're the one who made it useful. I think you did as much damage to that thing as the boat."

Calibani's smile grows wider as her eyes flicker with worry again. "Yeah, I hurt it pretty bad," she says with clearly feigned enthusiasm, and again tries to change the topic. "It was so clever of you to hit it with your boat. What a finishing move!"

"Well, it worked for me bef..." you stop mid-sentence as you realize that Calibani knows exactly when you last hit a monster with your boat, and that it's likely a bit of a traumatic memory for her. But there's really no way to end that sentence differently, and so you just whisper out, "...fore..." as an awkward silence falls between you. As both of you stand there quietly not making eye contact, your eyes fall upon her tail, which once again hangs over the side of the ship.

"You're tail's hanging off the side of the ship," you say, stating the obvious.

Calibani looks at it. "Yeah, it is," she says quietly.

"Aren't you worried something will grab it again?"

She shakes her head, and her big mane oh hair attached to it wiggles with the motion. "The water feels so good on my scales and fin," she explains. "I think the time spent enjoying that will outweigh any time spent getting grabbed or bitten, so it's worth the risk. Besides, if something grabs my tail, I can warn you that trouble is coming, so we'll be better off in the end anyway."

You decide not to argue with her logic. "Well, let me know if you need anything," you suggest, unsure of what else to say at the moment.

"Will do, sweetness!" she replies with a bright, fake smile.

With a nod, you leave her to her thoughts, deciding to wait and see if maybe she'll open up later. It's time to focus on the second task at hand, anyway, the whole reason you came here: you need to search these boats.

It's slow, methodical work, and at first it doesn't yield much for all the labor involved. All the wrecked and capsized ships are a bust, their contents either lost to the sea or so water-damaged they're basically useless. The boats that are right-side up provide a bit more - some non-perishable or at least not rotten food here (and, to Calibani's assured delight, some salt, pepper, garlic, and paprika), a few useful tools there, even some clothes that you decide to pocket in hopes of adding to your wardrobe (and, notably, a few more sweaters that seem like they might fit Calibani, though a couple might need to be stretched out a bit first).

In one boat, however, you find something truly interesting. It seems rather bland at first - a briefcase, kind of fancy but not something that seems promising at a glance, with a logo on its side that seems vaguely familiar to you: Spindle Inc.

The name sounds familiar, and you wrack your brain about where you heard it before. Isn't Spindle one of those big tech companies, the ones that make a shitload of money but no one's quite sure what the hell they actually do or sell? You realize this is one of the few specific memories of your life before the Sea that you can recall, and try to see if you can remember more details, but nothing comes to mind.

There's a lock on the briefcase, but luckily for you the former owner didn't remember to lock it. You decide to open it up, just to see if anything inside might further jog your spotty and unreliable memory.

Inside, you spot several documents, with the one on top reading, "Field Agent's Guide to the Sea of Monsters." Most of it uses jargon you can't begin to comprehend, but as you pour over it you come across some notes jotted in the margins.

"It's no use, the only way home is under." "Need a deep sea vessel." "North, South, East, West. Where did it come from?" "Can't risk going back to the lab, they won't let me go." "FIND DR. NEPTUNE." - underlined "Where is Neptune's base? Clues scant." "Captain Peter = only person who knows where Neptune is. Find him beyond the boat graveyard. We're close. I'm close. We're going home."

It's scattered and strange, but you think you get a sense of what this person was looking for. Someone named Dr. Neptune, who you can only find by meeting someone named Captain Peter, who is "beyond the boat graveyard," which you can guess from context is where you are right now. Seems your next destination is... well, ok, not really set, but you know where to go looking next, and that's something, dammit!

Of course, looking requires sailing, and that reminds you that you should probably check on your boat. It's been running well enough, but you've had collisions with two large creatures in about as many days, more or less, so it's good to give things a looksee.

Most things seem in order - no leaks, no dents, no strange noises from your engine (because you're not even sure this boat has an engine, much less where it is or what noises it should make, since the damn thing has always been eerily quiet). Only one thing seems out of place.

There's a... stain? you think? on the front of your boat, a jagged red stain that looks eerily like a mouth. It must be the globster's blood, you tell yourself, except wasn't the globster's blood more of a, like, melonoma black sort of color, that putrescent shade of black that's got other colors mixed in like a mess of spilled paint? And it was chunky when it came out, so how is it smeared so neat and smoothly.

Unless... maybe it's paint? Yeah, that's it, it's paint! How could you forget the cute little shark smile that was painted on your boat, that sharp-toothed painted on grin it's always had as long as you've known it? Of course that smile's always been there, it's probably the reason you picked this boat in the first place whenever... whenever you found it, or bought it, probably? Who wouldn't want the goofy grinning shark boat?

Regardless, nothing is wrong with your boat, as it's in perfectly ship shape. You've got a heading, you've got a working ship, and you've defeated a hideous monster that wanted to eat you and, perhaps worst of all, seemed to be British. If anything calls for celebration, this is it. Going below deck, you break out one of your rarest treasures: a bottle of red wine you found, unopened and of, well, a vintage you hope is good (you don't know shit about wine, you're not Donald Pleasance). It's time to break out the salted meat, cook some of those potatoes you found among the ships, and make a night of it!

You go below deck and make as decent a meal as your conditions with allow, then invite Calibani to eat with you. The two of you share the best meal you've cooked yet, and while the little "ooo's" and "mmm's" Calibani makes while eating show she enjoys the food, you can't help noticing she still looks awfully troubled.

"Did you notice?" you say as you finish your meal. "That it tastes different, I mean."

She nods. "It's good," she says quietly.

"That's cause I found some spices," you say proudly, hoping for a big reaction. But while Calibani smiles, it once again fails to reach her eyes. "Did I oversell how good spices are?" you ask.

"No, no, I'm sorry," she says. "It's really good, best I've had, honest, but..." She looks down at the floor and sighs. "Do you... hate me?"

You stare blankly at her, completely dumbstruck by that question. "What?"

Panic flares behind Calibani's eyes as she throws up her hands and animatedly explains, "It's just that you've been attacked by monsters that want to kill you three days in a row and one of them was me! And the other two are dead - I killed one, we killed the other together, and - and I just don't get it, because you didn't kill me when you could have, and I'm just worried..." She stops her ranting to catch her breath. "I'm worried that you don't like killing and that I've forced you to do it and you hate me for it, or that you hate those creatures for trying to kill you and that means you hate me because I tried to kill you, and I never thought of killing as a personal thing before but now that you put the thought in my mind it's all I'm thinking about and I feel terrible about everything and just - just - do you hate me?"

"Uh... wow," is all you manage to say.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she says quickly, "I didn't mean - oh no, you do hate me, don't you?"

"No, no!" you say just as quickly, your hand instinctively touching your compass. "In fact, I'd go so far to say that my mind keeps being pulled in a direction that likes you quite a lot."

She cocks her head at you and squints, confused by your phrasing despite understanding the jist of it. "Um... well, I mean... why though? I tried to kill you, just like that bird and the... the globster thing we just killed." She looks thoughtfully at the floor. "What makes me different? Why did you spare me?"

That's... actually hard to answer. So, as you do with all hard choices, you consult your compass.

[estellan0vella]

Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Sixteen: All This Time SS: 7 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 2.1K Content Warnings: Discussion of drug use & addiction, discussions of rape, recording of rape, discussion of covering up for a rapist Previous Next Masterlist

The living room is bathed in warm light, and the soft clink of wine glasses is the only sound breaking the quiet tension in the room. Felix, Jisung, Minho, and Hayun sit on the couch, each nursing a glass of wine. The air is heavy, charged with the unsaid things lingering between them.

Jisung leans back, stretching out with a sigh, his eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Well, Jeongin’s off discovering his latest kink at Chan’s place," he says, voice tinged with humor, though his mind is clearly elsewhere. "So, let’s get back to the case. Minho, did you find Chaeryeong’s old phone?"

Minho lifts the phone from his pocket, holding it up for everyone to see.

Felix’s eyes light up as he nods toward the device. “Did you charge it?”

Minho shakes his head. "No, not yet. I brought the charging wire, though."

Jisung frowns, narrowing his eyes at Minho. "Why the fuck wouldn’t you charge it first?"

Minho sighs, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "I had to steal this from my mother’s house, Jisung. It’s not like I could just waltz in and plug it in."

Jisung opens his mouth to retort but snaps it shut, nodding as he concedes the point. “Fair enough.”

The conversation lulls for a moment before Hayun takes a sip of her wine and breaks the silence. "We still haven’t spoken to Yeji or Ryujin about the case," she says, her voice thoughtful.

Jisung, already distracted by the case, nods. "You and Minho can go tomorrow."

Minho sits up straighter, his expression hardening instantly. "No!" he blurts out before he can stop himself.

Hayun nudges him sharply, trying to subtly shut him up, but Minho isn’t having it. "It’s a bad area," he says firmly, looking directly at Jisung and Felix. "I don’t know if I’m enough to keep Hayun safe. You know where Yeji lives—she’s in an apartment building full of dealers. It’s not a nice environment."

Felix’s face tightens in concern. “He’s right. Yeji’s place... it’s not somewhere you should go, especially not alone.”

Jisung, however, tilts his head, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “There’s something you’re not telling us.” He glances at Felix, then back at Minho and Hayun. "Look, I know we’re not the brightest bulbs in the box—"

"Hey!" Felix protests, though it’s half-hearted, his attention clearly focused on the underlying tension in the room.

Jisung rolls his eyes but continues. "We’re not complete pabos either. You two are hiding something. Don’t think Felix and I haven’t noticed."

Hayun shifts uncomfortably in her seat, gripping her wine glass a little tighter. “I’m fine.”

“Really?” Jisung says, his tone sharp, cutting through the thin veneer of calm. “Because I noticed this.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small, familiar orange bottle with Hayun’s name on it—oxycodone. “I noticed it was almost empty, so I called the doctor to get your prescription refilled, like a good friend. You know what they said?”

Hayun stares at him, her heart dropping.

Jisung’s voice drops to an almost dangerous whisper, “They said Jang Hayun has no record of ever being prescribed oxycodone.” His eyes burn with hurt and anger as he stares her down. “So what the fuck, Yunnie?”

Hayun freezes, her mind scrambling for an explanation. Her gaze flicks to Minho, silently pleading for him to intervene.

But Jisung isn’t having it. “Don’t look at him!” he snaps, his voice rising. “I know he knows. And I bet Jeongin knows too, doesn’t he?” His voice shakes with frustration. “Look at the two friends you’ve been hiding your addiction from. What happened the night of Yuna’s disappearance five years ago? Because you changed that night. You’ve never been the same since.”

Felix, usually the softer one, leans forward, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Hayun… you’re one of the girls Mingi raped, aren’t you?”

The room goes deathly quiet. Hayun doesn’t say anything. She just stares at the wine glass in her hand, her fingers trembling as she grips the stem. She can feel their eyes on her, waiting for confirmation, waiting for something—anything.

Minho steps in, his voice sharp, like a blade cutting through the tension. "That’s enough. Both of you."

Jisung’s gaze snaps to Minho, betrayal written all over his face. "You knew?" His voice breaks. "You knew before us? You knew before me? I’ve known her since we were kids. Felix has been her friend for two years. But you—" He points accusingly at Minho. "You’ve known her what? Four months?"

"Enough!" Minho snaps, standing up, his posture tense.

Jisung, taking a deep breath, tries to steady himself, but the betrayal is clear in his eyes. Felix, sitting beside him, looks down at his wine glass, his eyes glossy, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

Felix’s voice is soft, barely above a whisper. "We could’ve helped you, Yunnie," he says, his voice cracking slightly. "You didn’t have to go through this alone."

The weight of his words crushes Hayun, guilt settling in her chest like a stone. She looks up at them, eyes wide and filled with regret, but no words come out.

Jisung runs a hand through his hair, frustration seeping from every pore. "All this time," he mutters, "all this time you were keeping this from us. After everything... how could you not trust us?"

Hayun swallows hard, her throat tight, but she can’t form the words. What could she say that would make any of this better? That would explain everything?

Felix wipes at his eyes quickly, trying to maintain some composure, but the hurt is plain as day on his face. "We’re your friends, Hayun. We would’ve been there for you."

Minho, now standing protectively near Hayun, shakes his head. "This isn’t the time for this. You have no idea what she’s been through."

Jisung turns on him, anger flashing in his eyes. "Don’t act like you’re the fucking protector here, Minho. You’ve barely been around, and yet, you’re the one she confides in?" He shakes his head, voice trembling with emotion. "I can’t believe this."

Minho steps forward, his voice steady and commanding. "I’m not protecting her because she chose me over you two. I’m protecting her because she needs it."

Jisung’s mouth opens to argue, but nothing comes out. Instead, he looks at Hayun, the disappointment evident on his face.

"Yunnie," Jisung says softly, his voice cracking, "if you ever trusted me at all, tell me the truth. What happened that night?"

Felix tries to mask his tears with a small, sad smile. "It’s okay, Yunnie. You can tell us. We’re not mad... we’re just—"

"Hurt," Jisung finishes, his voice breaking. "We’re just... hurt."

“She never told you,” Minho starts, his voice steady but somber, “because your sister knew.”

Jisung’s head snaps up, his eyes wide and confused. “What?”

Minho sighs, glancing at Hayun before he continues. “Remember how we said an anonymous source came forward? It wasn’t anonymous. It was Hayun. Yuna would drug the girls, Mingi would rape and record them, and Lia would distract anyone who came looking for the girl.”

Jisung stares at Minho in disbelief, his mind spinning as he tries to piece everything together. “So, when Lia was helping me look for Hayun at that party...”

Minho nods grimly. “Lia knew where Hayun was the whole time. She led you on a wild goose chase, keeping you away from what was really happening.”

Jisung’s face crumples, his hands trembling as they come up to cover his face. “My dad... My dad was fucking Yuna—his student—and my sister’s been protecting and helping a rapist? My family—” His voice cracks. “I— Oh my God.”

Minho’s voice softens slightly, trying to ground Jisung in this horrifying moment. “Mingi blackmails the women with the tapes he keeps. That’s another reason Hayun never said anything. He had power over them.”

Jisung can’t hold it in any longer. He reaches out for Hayun, pulling her into a tight hug. His grip is almost desperate, as if he’s trying to apologize for everything—his family, his ignorance, the trauma she’s had to carry alone. He buries his face in her shoulder, mumbling apologies over and over again, his words thick with guilt and pain.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Yunnie.”

Hayun doesn’t cry, though the weight of his emotions presses heavily on her. She runs her hand gently up and down his back, offering silent comfort as his sobs rack his body. His apologies fall on deaf ears—she doesn’t need them, not now—but she lets him get it out. This pain isn’t just his, but something they all have to bear now.

Across the room, Felix isn’t handling it any better. He’s slumped over, face buried in his hands as he sobs uncontrollably. He’s always been the sensitive one, and right now, this truth is too much for him. He trembles as the sobs wrack through him, his breaths coming out in broken gasps. The devastation on his face is hard to watch.

Minho keeps a steady hold on Hayun’s hand, his own expression hard, though his eyes betray a deep sadness. He’s holding himself together for her, but the rage simmering beneath the surface is palpable. Everything he’s learned about Yuna, Mingi, and now Lia—it’s enough to send anyone over the edge.

“We need to stop the investigation for now,” Felix finally manages to choke out, wiping at his tear-streaked face. “We need to find those tapes before anything else happens.”

Hayun’s voice cuts through the room, calm and resolute. “Then I need to speak to Mingi.”

Her words send a shockwave through the room. Minho freezes, his grip on her hand tightening instinctively. Felix and Jisung both look at her, wide-eyed, the tension in the room suddenly suffocating.

“What?” Minho’s voice is low, dangerous. “No. Absolutely not.”

Felix, his face still red from crying, shakes his head rapidly. “Hayun, no, you can’t. You can’t face him alone.”

Jisung stares at her in disbelief. “Hayun, that’s not—that’s not an option. After everything he’s done to you, you can’t be thinking about confronting him.”

Hayun remains eerily calm, though her eyes are locked on Minho’s, the determination in her gaze unwavering. “I have to,” she says firmly. “If we’re going to find the tapes, if we’re going to take him down, then I need to be the one to face him. I can get information from him that no one else can.”

Minho is visibly tense, his face set in hard lines as he struggles to keep his composure. “You’re not going near that bastard again. I won’t let you.”

“You don’t get to make that choice,” Hayun counters, her voice steady. “I know what I’m doing.”

“No, you don’t,” Minho growls. “He’s dangerous, and you think you can just walk in there and manipulate him? This isn’t some casual confrontation, Hayun. This is the man who raped you.”

Hayun’s eyes flicker, but her resolve doesn’t falter. “That’s exactly why I have to do it. He thinks he still has control over me. He doesn’t. Not anymore.”

Felix, still clutching his wine glass, looks at her pleadingly. “Please, Yunnie. We can find another way. We’ll figure something out.”

Jisung is shaking his head, running his hands through his hair in disbelief. “This is... no, this isn’t how we do it. We can’t risk you like that.”

Minho leans forward, his voice low and filled with barely-contained anger. “You think this is about control? This is about survival, Hayun. You walk in there, and he’ll destroy you. He’s done it before.”

Hayun’s jaw tightens, her grip on Minho’s hand tightening as well. “Not this time,” she says, her voice like steel. “This time, I’m going to make sure he loses.”

The tension in the room is unbearable, each of them grappling with the horrifying reality that Hayun is willing to put herself in harm’s way to bring down the man who hurt her.

Minho doesn’t let go of her hand, even though his whole body radiates with anger and fear. He can see the resolve in her eyes, but it doesn’t make this any easier. If anything, it makes it worse.

“If you go through with this,” Minho finally says, his voice quiet but firm, “I’m going with you.”

Hayun turns to him, her expression softening just a fraction. “No, Minho. You can’t.”

“Then I’m not letting you do it,” Minho shoots back, his voice resolute. “If you’re going to face that monster, you’re not doing it alone. Not this time.”

The room falls into a tense silence once more, the weight of the decision looming over them all. None of them want to accept what’s happening, but they know there’s no turning back now.

Hayun finally nods, her hand still held tightly in Minho’s. “Okay. But if we do this, we do it my way.”

Taglist: @hityoulikebahng @drewsandsebastianswife @fackeraccount @lily-loves-kpop @stilldontknowhoiam

@ziggy1221 @justaspoonofjam @tr-mha-fan @candycurshidkwhatthehell @heeseungspookie

[mickmundy]

[luveline]

would you be in the mood to write something for peter parker x reader?? it’s been a while since i’ve read anything new for him and i’m missing my boy :( maybe something about things getting heated while making out with peter but he knows reader isn’t ready to go any farther so he has to stop them, and then maybe reader feels guilty for not being ready bc they feel like they’re stringing him along? a good mix of (semi)smut & fluff & angst haha. thank u angel i love u <3

ty for requesting, love u <3 fem!reader, 1k

cw suggestive content

���Is that okay?” he whispers. 

You’re nearly too busy trying to kiss him to whisper back. “Yeah, Peter, just–” Fully too busy. 

Peter enjoys being on top of you for two reasons; the first, the most imperative in the moment, is because it flicks a switch in your mind that has you all flustered and breathless under his touch, your chest heaving something sorry and your hands a frenetic back-and-forth between roaming and limp on his back; and the second, his guilty pleasure, is that he’s in an optimal position to slide his knee between your thighs and listen for your breathless sigh. 

He says your name between kisses to catch your attention, finds he can’t quite get it as your mouth closes up on his and your spit wets his lips. Your hand wanders under his shirt. 

Peter has been worse than shirtless around you, a consequence of his strange after-classes hobby, but he’s not so sure you’re ready to peel him out of it. Your fingers ride up his spine. 

He fishes your hand from behind him to hold it above your head. 

“Hey,” he says, pulling back, your eyes lit and aligned with one another, the brightest light in the room. It feels wrong to speak into the dark like this, disrupting your whispers and your quick breathing. “You don’t wanna do that.” 

“I do,” you say. He’s no genius, but he sees the wobble of your lashes for what it is, sudden regret. 

“It’s okay, bub. We got too heavy too fast,” he laughs. 

You bite the inside of your lip as he sits up. It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have kissed you like that, definitely shouldn’t have let his leg slide up against you, what was he thinking? He’s kissed you so hard your lips are swollen. 

You use the flats of your palms to clamber up against the headboard. Your heart is a thudding he can’t ignore, triply loud, and his own pulse is rocketing too. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“No, that’s okay,” —he reaches for the hem of your sweatpants to tug them back over your hip and stomach— “I was bearing down on you, I shouldn’t have– I–” Peter Parker levels of stuttering occur, to which he can’t subject himself, hiding his face in his hands. 

There’s a small silence. Peter attempts to calm down. Your heart rate slowly drops. 

“I really am sorry, Pete.” 

His neck cricks as he lifts his head. “What?” He lets his legs fall to the side of the bed and shuffles up to the top to see you clearly, squishing the back of your thigh where your legs are up to his hip. “Come on, what do you have to be sorry for?” 

“I’m leading you on and stuff. Not cool.” 

“What? What are you talking about? I started it.” 

“I was giving it just as good as I was getting it,” you say with a regretful smile. “You’re just such a great kisser–”

“Don’t try and distract me, it’s working,” he teases. More seriously, he puts his hand on your knee, thumb pressing to the soft crease underneath it. 

“I shouldn’t kiss you like that if I’m not ready for it.” 

“Why not? You can kiss me whatever way you like, it doesn’t have to lead to anything.” 

“I’m winding you up. Boys don’t like that.” 

“I love it,” he says, dropping his chin to his hand to speak to you from just below your eye line. “I love everything you do, I love kissing you, it doesn’t mean you have to be ready for something else.” 

You don’t accept his reassurances as quickly as he’d like, leaning back, the rising valley of your chest and tummy two pretty not to look at even as something serious transpires. He adores you, your every hill and curve and rigid line, all of it, and he’d love to fuck you but there’s no rush. What do you need to rush for? Peter’s sure it’ll be just as much fun a few months down the line as it would’ve been tonight, but it’ll be perfect then, because you’ll be ready then. 

“Who cares what boys like anyways?” he mumbles, kissing your kneecap appreciatively. 

“I just don’t wanna mess it up, Pete. I really like you.” 

“You can’t mess it up, it’s not like that, we’re not like that. You mean a whole lot more to me than that,” he says, giving your thigh a squeeze. You meet his eyes with less shyness now, the beginnings of a smile like twitches at the corners of your mouth. “I like you more than you like me, anyways. You can string me along. String me up, if you want.” 

“String you up where?” you ask with a laugh. 

“From that statue on ESU?” 

“What? How would I do that?” 

“Get Spider-Man to help you.” 

You pull the leg he isn’t leaning on up toward your stomach, knee rubbing along the inside of your opposite thigh, the last trace of regret. “You’re sure you don’t care?” 

“Don’t care, don’t mind, just want you to be happy.” He kisses your knee. “I thought you’d know that by now.” 

You brace your face in both hands, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I know when you do that thing to me. How about you keep your legs away from my legs for a little while?” 

Peter smiles like an idiot, hiding his eyes in your knee and his mouth behind your calf. He doesn’t mind being honest, but you’re making him nervous flirting like that and he isn’t allowed to kiss you again tonight. “I– I can do that. No leg stuff.” He leans away from you suddenly. “God, no leg stuff. You’re beautiful, I wish you didn’t worry about me.” 

“I’ll try not to, Pete.”  

[chestersturniolo]

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader x Matt Sturniolo

stoner!chris - stoner!matt

In which; You show Matt and Chris the Halloween costume you picked out…

Warnings; poly relationship (no incesty shit) , drug use ofc, suggestive, controlling/possessive behaviour. use of y/n and pet names.

DISCLAIMER; wear whatever you damn well want bbys!!!

You step through the front door, barely managing to squeeze inside with the mountain of shopping bags hanging from both arms. Your legs ache as you wobble toward the staircase, bags digging into your skin as you climb. Finally reaching the top, you turn to the living room and see Matt and Chris sprawled on the couch, a joint making its way back and forth between them.

Matt is first to notice you, his eyes lifting mid-puff, taking in the sight of you and all your bags. He smirks, exhaling the smoke slowly as his eyes drift to Chris. “Looks like our money’s been well spent” he says, nodding toward you with amusement in his eyes.

Chris looks over, eyes widening as he takes in the sheer number of bags hanging from your arms. “Jesus” he mutters, shaking his head with a grin. Matt chuckles in response.

You stand there, pride practically radiating off you. “I found so many good things today!” you announce excitedly like it wasn’t obvious already.

“We can see that baby” Matt says, whilst reaching his arm out to pass the joint to his brother.

Chris takes it, before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You gonna show us, or what?” he says, clearly curious as he takes a drag.

A spark of excitement flares up inside you. “Wait here” you say, practically bouncing as you make your way to Matts room, eager to show them one particular purchase. You rummage through the bags, finally pulling out the outfit. It’s one you picked out for Halloween- a sexy angel costume that’s barely there. You undress and start assembling the costume on your body. A white lacy corset with a tiny skirt, along with garters, platform heels and of course a set of wings accompanied with a small halo headband.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and grin. You looked fucking hot. With newfound confidence, you make your way back into the living room, heels clicking against the floor. As you round the corner, you pause, one hand confidently resting on your hip. Clearing your throat, you get their attention.

Both Matt and Chris freeze mid-conversation, snapping their heads toward you, their eyes immediately widening as they take you in. It’s almost comical how synchronized their reactions are—jaws dropping slightly, eyes slowing raking every inch of your body as they stare at you in stunned silence.

You laugh softly at their expressions. “So? What do you think?” you ask, giving them a sweet smile

“fuck” Matt mutters under his breath as he shift in his seat

“i think you need to get your pretty ass over here” Chris says, placing the joint down in the ashtray before turning back to you with a lick of his lips, practically undressing you with his eyes

You shake your head softly, knowing exactly what they’re both thinking, “Nu-uh, i don’t wanna mess it up before i even wear it”

“You are wearing it ma, n it’s for us right?” Chris says raising his brow

“No , it’s my Halloween costume!” you say proudly

They both exchange a look, completely dumbfounded, before turning their attention back to you. Matt leans back on the couch, crossing his arms. “Oh, absolutely not” he says with a firm tone.

Chris scoffs in disbelief “Turn around” he demands, waving a hand for you to spin. You oblige, twirling so they can get a view of the back. Your ass pretty much on full display.

“Yeah, no fucking way” Chris says, shaking his head in whilst simultaneously adjusting the growing bulge in his pants.

You furrow your brows as your confidence crumbles slightly “You dont like it?” you say quietly

Chris is quick to shake his head “Of course we like it y/n look at you-“ he says raking his eyes up and down you’re figure for the hundredth time “-but you’re outta your mind if you think either of us would let you out the house like that ma”

You shoot them a scowl, both hands on your hips now. “But it’s for Halloween! everyone dresses like this!” you huff

“Well, you’re not everyone sweetheart” Matt chimes in

You cross your arms with a roll of your eyes “Whatever”

Chris raises an eyebrow at your tone. “Ay, drop the attitude” he warns, picking up the joint from the tray, relighting it before he taking a hit.

You stand there, arms crossed, slouching a little in defiance. This wasn’t exactly the reaction you’d expected. You were so excited about the costume, a slight pout starts to form on your lips. Matt sighs and pats his lap, motioning for you to come sit. Reluctantly, you make your way over to them on the couch, your heels echoing on the wooden floor. You settle onto his lap,careful not to smush your wings. still pouting, eyes fixed anywhere but on either of them.

Matt wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer as he tries to soften his tone. “Look, you’re not wearin’ that out baby”

You refuse to look at him, staying stubbornly quiet, giving them the silent treatment. Matt and Chris were very good at standing their ground when it came to you, and honestly you loved it 99% of the time. But with that 1%, you could always count on Matt to bend the rules if you give him just enough stroppiness.

Matt lets out a deep sigh, seeing your demeanour, he comes to his own compromise. He hooks his finger under your chin, gently turning your face toward him so you have no choice but to meet his gaze. “How ’bout this…you can wear it out-” he starts, pausing just enough to see the flicker of excitement in your eyes, “-but, only if me and Chris are there with you”

“Really?!” you beam, the excitement coming back full force.

Chris throws his hands up, completely taken aback. “Are you fuckin’ serious, Matt?”

Matt rolls his eyes at Chris’s reaction. “Cmon bruh, you really think anyone’s gonna try anythin’ with us either side of her? I don’t fuckin’ think so” he says , reaching to take the joint back

Chris groans, clearly not convinced. “That’s not the point! They’re still gonna see…this” he says, gesturing up and down at your outfit.

Matt chuckles slightly before taking a long drag, tilting his head back, exhaling slowly before looking up at you with a smirk

“Let em see. we’ll be the ones takin it off”

an; if any of my smut writing moots wanna make a part 2 for this (for you to post) inbox me PLSSS🙂‍↕️

ily alllllllll!!!!

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST LINKED HERE

taglist; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh

@phone4pills @sturniooolos

@monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4 @brianna-grace12

@blahbel668

@stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom @l0ver-i

@starstrucktyrantinfluencer @fratbrochrisgf @emely9274

@chriseatingmeoutin4k @slvttie-zx

@bbybloop @sturnn372 @chrissturnsss @slut4m4tt @izzylovesmatt @spideylovin

@sturniolossss @sturniolofannnforevver @zariyam @r0s3luvr

@sturniolosluttt @matts1freak @conspiracy-ash

@stvrnzwrld @blehblehbleh735

@luvb0xoxo @ivysturnss @stars4star @sturnsxbitvh

@amayaaaho @thebigbadwolfahoooo @strnslutt

@swagalicious260 @strnlslut

[rafecameronssl4t]

i miss thornton!reader so bad!!! can we get one, maybe reader got hurt by barry and topper fights rafe about it! love uuuuu

Protective || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: I've missed writing Thornton!reader :(

Warnings: suggestive, slight angst if you even call it that lol, other than that nothing rlly

Word count: 3,417 (longest fic i've written so far lol)

MASTERLIST (rafe x Thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The music thrummed through the house, filling every corner with a heavy bass as Kelce glanced around the crowded room, his brows furrowed. He leaned closer to Topper, who was lounging on the couch with a half-empty beer in hand. “Yo, where’s Rafe? Haven’t seen him all night,” Kelce shouted over the noise.

Topper, barely looking up from his drink, shrugged lazily. “Probably off somewhere with my sister,” he muttered, taking a slow sip. Just as he said it, the sight of you and Rafe caught Kelce's attention, and Topper turned his head. Rafe appeared at the top of the staircase, hand firmly gripping yours as the two of you descended.

His expression was smug, almost victorious, while you walked carefully beside him, your legs unsteady, a faint flush still lingering on your cheeks. The subtle tension between you didn’t go unnoticed. Topper narrowed his eyes, rolling them dramatically. “Where were you guys?” he started, though a moment later he held up a hand, groaning.

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t even wanna know,” Topper groaned, his eyes narrowing as he sank deeper into the couch, clearly regretting the question. Rafe’s smirk only widened in response, that signature arrogance playing on his lips as he pulled you closer, his hand sliding possessively to the small of your back.

“What’s wrong? Not havin’ fun?” Rafe’s tone was taunting as he sat down, effortlessly pulling you into his lap. You settled against him, your body fitting into his like second nature, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the alcohol in the air. Topper’s response was a dry scoff, his eyes cutting away, tired of the banter.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He took another sip of his drink, clearly unimpressed with the scene unfolding in front of him. You glanced at your brother, trying to lighten the tension. “Where’s that girl you were seeing? Natalie or something—” you began, but Topper’s cold voice sliced through your words, shutting them down.

“Broke it off with her. She was a bitch anyway,” he said, his tone harsh, dismissive, like the whole thing had been a waste of his time. There was a chill to his words that left an awkward silence between you, broken only by the sound of the party continuing in the background. You exchanged a quick glance with Rafe, who simply shrugged, his expression unbothered, like the drama swirling around him barely registered.

Rafe’s fingers, however, were far more interested in the hem of your dress, teasing the fabric between his fingers as he leaned in closer. “I’m having a smoke. You comin’?” His voice dropped lower, intimate, a subtle invitation. You glanced towards the patio door, the thought of stepping into the cold night air making you hesitate. “But it’s so cold out there,” you pouted, your lips curving into a playful smile.

Rafe chuckled, his eyes dropping to your legs as he gave your thigh a teasing pat. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea wearin’ this dress,” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he traced lazy circles on your skin with his thumb. “Oh, it was a bad idea, huh?” you quipped back, tilting your head slightly, a smirk playing on your lips as you met his gaze.

You could feel the electricity between you, the unspoken tension that always lingered just beneath the surface. Before Rafe could respond, Topper groaned again, loudly this time, clearly done with the back-and-forth. “Get outta here, seriously. The two of you are disgusting,” he muttered, rolling his eyes so hard you were sure he was going to walk out. You held up your hands in mock surrender, laughing softly.

“Alright, alright, we’re going,” you teased, sliding off Rafe’s lap. Rafe stood, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you closer as the two of you made your way outside. The night air hit you immediately, crisp and cold, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, pulling you against him as if he could keep you warm just by being close.

~

Rafe leaned back against the side of the house, the dim glow of the porch light casting shadows across his sharp features. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the faint trail of smoke curling lazily into the cool night air as he gazed down at you. He wasn’t really paying attention to the words spilling from your mouth, your voice a pleasant hum in the background, but his eyes were locked on you—specifically, the way your glossy lips moved as you talked.

You were leaning casually against the wall, your phone in hand, gesturing slightly as you yapped about the latest gossip swirling around Figure 8. Your voice was animated, every detail about who hooked up with whom and who got into another petty fight filling the air with energy.

Rafe, however, was only half-listening, his attention drawn more to the subtle curve of your lips, how they glistened under the soft light each time you spoke. The way your mouth moved was more captivating than any story you could tell. He took a slow drag of his cigarette, the embers lighting up briefly as his gaze drifted lower, trailing from your lips down to your neckline, his mind wandering.

You didn’t seem to notice his distracted state, too engrossed in the details of your latest story. But to Rafe, it didn’t matter what you were saying. He was content just watching you, the way you moved, the way your presence filled the space between you both.

You continued talking, the glow of your phone illuminating your face as you swiped through the latest drama on social media. “So apparently, Anna broke up with Drew,” you said, your voice filled with excitement as if it was the most riveting thing that had happened all week. “And get this—she’s already seeing Chase. Like, they were spotted together at The Wreck, can you believe it?”

Rafe exhaled a slow puff of smoke, his eyes lazily following the movement of your lips, still half lost in his own thoughts. “Mm-hmm,” he mumbled in response, barely processing the names you were tossing out. His mind kept drifting—your lips, the way your hair fell over your shoulders, the subtle scent of your perfume mixing with the cool night air.

You didn’t seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm as you scrolled through your phone, continuing. “And then there’s Claire—God, she’s still with that guy from The Cut. You know everyone’s talking about it, right? Like, what is she even thinking? She could do so much better, but nope, she’s still with him.”

Rafe took another drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash off to the side before responding, his tone casual and almost uninterested. “Yeah, she’s an idiot,” he muttered, his gaze still fixated on your lips, completely disconnected from the gossip itself. You sighed, exasperated by how uninterested he seemed. “Are you even listening, Rafe?” you asked, shooting him a playful glare, though you knew this was how he always acted when you talked about Figure 8 drama.

He smirked, letting the cigarette dangle from his lips as he finally met your eyes. “I’m listenin’,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “I just don’t care about half the people you’re talkin’ about.” You rolled your eyes, leaning in just a little closer. “You should care. It’s your crowd, Rafe. You act like you’re too cool for it, but you know you love it when someone else’s life is falling apart.”

Rafe chuckled, his hand firmly tugging you closer by the waist. “Nah, I just like watchin’ you get all worked up about it,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on your lips as he tossed his cigarette aside, his focus now entirely on you. You sighed, tucking your phone into your back pocket, arms crossing over your chest as a shiver ran down your spine.

“Can you hurry up? I’m freezing my tits off out here,” you groaned, leaning into Rafe for warmth. The night air was biting, and the flimsy dress you’d chosen was doing nothing to help. Rafe smirked, wrapping an arm casually around your neck and pulling you against him.

“Quit whining. I already warmed you up earlier,” he teased, his eyes twinkling as they glanced down at you. His hand rested possessively on your hip, the cockiness in his tone making you roll your eyes. You were about to fire back a snarky remark when a voice cut through the darkness. "Rafe!" someone called out, the tone sharp and angry.

Before you could turn to see who it was, you suddenly felt a rough pair of hands grab your shoulders and shove you aside with force. The world seemed to tilt for a moment as you let out a startled shriek, your body stumbling as you lost your balance, crashing into a bush. The cold leaves scratched against your skin, the shock of the shove still fresh as you blinked, trying to regain your composure.

“What the fuck, Barry?!” Rafe’s voice exploded with fury as he shoved the man back, his stance immediately tense, ready to throw a punch. But before he could escalate, he turned back to you, eyes wide with concern. He was by your side in an instant, one hand gripping your arm, steadying you as you struggled to get up.

“You okay?” Rafe asked, his voice softening, all the teasing from before gone, replaced by genuine worry. His hands moved to gently brush the dirt and leaves off you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of injury. You took a deep breath, still a little shaken, but nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you muttered, your voice quieter now.

But your eyes were narrowed, darting to Barry, who stood a few feet away, his face twisted in a malicious grin, his energy dark and threatening. “Oh, my bad, Princess,” Barry sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he glared at you. “Just here to let your boy know he’s gotta pay up. Real fuckin’ soon.”

The tension in the air was palpable as Rafe instinctively moved you behind him, his body blocking yours in a protective stance. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed in confusion and anger. “Pay up? What the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe snapped, his voice rising with frustration. “I already gave you the money—what more do you want?”

Barry chuckled darkly, taking a step closer, his eyes flickering with something dangerous. “Yeah, you gave me some of it,” he growled, his tone low and threatening. “But we both know that wasn’t the full amount, Cameron. I don’t like bein’ shortchanged.” Rafe’s posture stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides as he squared up to Barry, tension rippling through his body. “You got what I owed you,” Rafe hissed, his voice laced with fury.

“I’m not giving you a goddamn cent more.” Barry took another step forward, his gaze shifting from Rafe to you, a wicked smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Better be careful, Rafe,” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. “You wouldn’t want Princess here to get caught in the middle of your little debt, would you?”

Rafe’s entire body went rigid, the implication in Barry’s words sending a jolt of rage through him. He stepped closer to Barry, his voice low and dangerous. “You keep her out of this,” Rafe growled, the muscles in his neck tightening. “Or I’ll make sure you regret it.” You stood behind Rafe, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of the situation finally sinking in.

You could see the barely contained fury in Rafe’s stance, the way he was holding himself back from lunging at Barry right then and there. Barry gave a mocking shrug, stepping back with a grin still plastered on his face. “We’ll see about that,” he said casually, turning on his heel as if the conversation was over. “But I’ll be back, Rafe. You know where to find me. Don’t make me wait.”

He shot one last look over his shoulder before disappearing into the night, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the cold, the air heavy with unsaid threats. Rafe exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before turning to you, his expression softening only slightly. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly, his voice still tight with lingering anger.

You nodded, but the unease in your chest didn’t go away. “What the hell was that about, Rafe?” you asked, your voice a mix of concern and frustration. He sighed, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s nothin’ you need to worry about,” he muttered, though the look in his eyes told you it was anything but nothing.

"Why the fuck was a drug dealer walking through my house?" Topper’s angry voice sliced through the tension, making both you and Rafe turn toward him. His face was red, brows knitted together in fury as he stormed up to the two of you. The pulse of the party inside was distant, but the rage in Topper’s voice filled the silence outside.

His eyes landed on you, taking in your disheveled appearance, the dirt on your dress, and the lingering shock in your expression. “The fuck happened to you?” he demanded, his gaze sharp and piercing, searching your face for answers. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off the remnants of the altercation with Barry.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, brushing a hand over your arm as if to wipe away the discomfort. “Bullshit,” Topper snapped, cutting you off before you could even try to explain. His anger shifted, his eyes narrowing as they darted to Rafe, who was still standing protectively in front of you. “I told you to take care of my sister,” Topper growled, his voice low but filled with fury.

“I don’t want her around a fucking drug dealer, Rafe!” Rafe straightened up, his expression hardening. “Topper, calm the fuck down,” he shot back, his voice steady but laced with annoyance. “It wasn’t like that.” “Oh really?” Topper scoffed, taking a step closer. “’Cause from where I’m standing, it sure as hell looks like it was like that. What the fuck is Barry doing here, and why is my sister gettin’ shoved into a goddamn bush?!”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. “Barry’s deal is with me. I’m handling it,” he muttered, but the tightness in his voice betrayed the weight of the situation. “I didn’t know he’d pull shit like that.” “That’s not good enough, Rafe,” Topper spat, his voice rising. “She’s not some collateral damage in whatever fucked-up deal you have goin’ on.” You stood between them, feeling the heat of the argument escalating, the tension rolling off both of them in waves.

“Topper, seriously, I’m fine,” you tried to interject, though your voice was drowned out by the two of them squaring up. Rafe shot a glare at Topper, his patience thinning. “I told you, I’ve got it under control.” Topper barked out a laugh, disbelief in his voice. “Under control? My little sister gets shoved around, and that’s you havin’ things under control?”

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he took a step forward, his temper flaring. “Watch it, Top,” he warned, his voice dark. “Barry’s my problem, and I’ll deal with him. You don’t need to worry about her.” But Topper wasn’t backing down, his protective instincts kicking in as his eyes darted between you and Rafe. “You better,” Topper seethed, his voice dangerously low.

“’Cause if this happens again, I won’t just be worried—I’ll make sure this thing between you and her is done. I don’t care what you two have going on, Rafe. If she gets hurt because of your shit, I’ll end it myself. She deserves better than to be dragged into whatever mess you’re caught up in.” Your jaw dropped, disbelief flooding your face. “You don’t mean that—” you began, your voice trembling as you searched Topper’s eyes for any sign that he might back down.

But the fierce determination in his gaze made it clear he was dead serious. “Oh yes, I fucking do,” he snapped, his voice sharp as a blade, unwavering in its conviction. “And I’ll tell Mom and Dad.” The threat hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and suffocating, charged with unspoken tension.

A chill raced down your spine, and your heart pounded violently in your chest at the thought of your parents getting involved. They had always been skeptical about your relationship with Rafe, questioning his intentions and whether he was truly good for you. You could almost hear their voices in your head, echoing their concerns “He’s trouble,” and “You deserve someone better.” The idea of them finding out about the chaos swirling around you made your stomach churn.

“Topper, wait—” you tried to interject, stepping forward to bridge the widening gap between them. “You can’t just threaten Rafe like that. It’s not fair—” “Fair?” Topper shot back, cutting you off with a glare. “What’s not fair is that my sister is getting mixed up with someone who can’t keep her safe. This isn’t just about you two playing house; this is serious!”

Rafe stepped in, his voice steady but edged with irritation. “I get it, Topper. You’re trying to protect her, but you’re not seeing the whole picture. I care about her. You think I want any of this to happen?” “Then act like it!” Topper snapped, his frustration boiling over. “You’re letting this shit happen right under your nose. If you truly cared, you’d make damn sure it never came to this.”

The intensity of the moment hung between the three of you, a taut string ready to snap. You glanced at Rafe, searching for reassurance, but his jaw was clenched tight, frustration and anger warring in his expression. “Topper, please,” you pleaded, your voice softer now, desperate to diffuse the situation. “You know how much Rafe means to me. He’s not like that—”

“Not like what?” Topper interrupted, his voice rising again. “Not like a drug dealer? Not like someone who can’t keep his life together? You’re smarter than this, and I refuse to watch you throw yourself into the fire just because you think you can handle it.” Your heart sank as you realized that his anger was coming from a place of love, a protective instinct that had always been there.

But it still hurt to see him turning on Rafe, the person you cared about deeply. Rafe’s expression softened slightly as he looked at you, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world. “Topper, if you really want to protect her, then trust me to do the same,” he said, his voice calmer, but the fire still simmered beneath the surface. “I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise.”

“Promises don’t mean shit when you’re dealing with guys like Barry,” Topper shot back, his voice taut. “You need to figure this out, Rafe. Because if you can’t, I’ll step in, and I won’t hesitate to make it clear to everyone—including Mom and Dad—that you’re not the right guy for her.” Rafe's lips part slightly as he glances at you, his brow furrowed with concern as he notices the tears welling up in your eyes.

“And you both know that the only reason this even works is because I’m allowing it. Mom and Dad are already skeptical enough about this whole thing. If anything goes wrong, you know it’ll be on me to explain why I let it happen” Topper says, his voice laced with frustration as he narrows his eyes at both of you.

He glances at you one last time, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment, before he turns and walks away, leaving the tension hanging in the air. As soon as he’s out of sight, the tears spill down your cheeks, warm and stinging. “Rafe…” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion, but Rafe doesn’t respond with words.

Instead, he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly, enveloping you in his warmth as you quietly sob against his chest. “Shh, it’ll all be fine, don’t worry about it, okay?” he murmurs softly, his voice a gentle balm against your hurt. His hand caresses your hair, fingers weaving through the strands in a soothing rhythm as you cling to him, seeking comfort in his presence.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiii!! I love your writing for the batboys!

So my request is Jason and Dick with a s/o and their like cuddling exchanging kisses relaxing and one of their brothers get them for a mission and see their brother (Jason/Dick) with their s/o for the first time. (Maybe the other batboy didn't know Jason/Dick had a girlfriend)

Okieee! Have a great day!

Dick

Cuddled himself into your side, burying his head into your neck, on the verge of falling asleep but not quite there yet as he hummed whenever you ran your fingers through his hair.

‘You like it when I run my fingers through your hair, you might as well be purring.’ You told him while giggling as he tightened his grip on your waist when he felt you shift slightly beneath him. ‘You’d like that wouldn’t you.’ Dick said sluggishly as he pushed his head further into your hand, impatient as he waited for you to continue running your fingers through his hair whenever you stopped briefly.

‘I would but you already act more than enough like a puppy regardless. I guess what they say about dogs and owners looking alike is more true in your case but instead of looks it’s personality.’ You said as you gently tugged his hair, causing him to groan as he then retaliated by deliberately kissing under your jaw and down your neck slowly as he could.

‘You think you’re funny don’t you?’ Dick asks against your neck.

‘I think I’m hilarious when you’re concerned dickbird.’ You gasped when you felt him nibble on your skin, ‘but you love me for it really.’ You added as he raised his head to look at you with a cute little pout across his tired face. You hated how exhausted he looked and so you had decided earlier that day that he was scheduled for some much needed rest, even going so far as to drag him to bed when he was too stubborn to leave a case for a measly five minutes just to eat food.

‘I do, love you I mean.’ Dick said softly as he raised his head to kiss your lips as you hummed happily against him, just as the door to his room swung open.

‘Alright dickhead, time to-‘ Jason looked up to see that he had clearly instructed something and instead of leaving he decided to stand in the doorway awkwardly as he cleared his throat.

‘I didn’t know you had company in here.’ Jason then said.

‘What do you think I normally do?’ Dick asked his younger brother as he shrugged his shoulders.

‘Piss us about usually.’ Jason replied almost casually that you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sibling spat. ‘Now I’m sorry to cut your lovers embrace short but we need to go, preferably now because I don’t know how much longer Tim and Damian can remain together in awkward silence.’ Dick sighed and kissed your cheek as he begun to pull himself away from you begrudgingly.

‘Sorry peanut, I promise you I’ll cuddle you as soon as I get home.’ Dick said when he saw you pout, hand tugging at his shirt which only made him want to say fuck it and stay in your arms, but he knew he couldn’t leave Jason alone to deal with Damian and Tim the entire night without them unironically pissing the other off somehow. ‘For now I’ve got some siblings to keep away from killing each other, so keep the bed warm for me yeah?.’ He adds as he cups your face and kisses you on the lips, nose and forehead.

‘It’ll be cosy and warm when you come home, that and probably smelling of dog too.’ You said as you kissed the space between his brows, cussing dick to smile and relax beneath your lips, he didn’t want to leave, he really didn’t but he knew that when he did come back it’ll be all the more worth while.

‘That’s fine by me, sweetheart.’ Dick replied, completely ignoring Jason who was wondering how the fuck you managed to deal with his brother for as long as you have.

Jason had you cosied up to his side as he continued to read a book he has been meaning to catch up on for a long while but couldn’t in due to the random spikes in crime as of late.

Which unfortunately meant that quality time between yourself and Jason was short lived. So when you were finally able to have Jason by your side for longer then an a few brief moments, you were bound to leap at the opportunity to cling onto him and smother him in kisses, much like you were doing now across his jawline and down his neck.

‘Miss me that much chipmunk?’ Jason asked with a smile as he paused his reading to rear his head back, allowing you further access to his neck, smiling to himself as he felt your lips caress his skin pleasantly. Jason was very much in need for affection after going without it for far longer then he might’ve liked, especially when most days it seemed as though your affection was all that helped Jason in getting through the day; and being deprived of such was a different kind of torture for Jason when he had finally gotten accustomed to it since the start of your relationship.

‘I did,’ you admitted, kissing his pulse on his neck before pulling away to smile up at him, ‘but with how tightly your holding my waist, I’d say you’ve missed me just as much jaybird.’ You added cheekily as you gestured down to the hand that was gripping your waist almost protectively with a playful glint in your eyes.

Jason scoffed as he then tugged you closer to him, making sure to rest his forehead against your own as he spoke, ‘I did miss you chipmunk, I’m not ashamed to admit it because most days it seemed as though you were the only thing keeping me going most of the time.’ He smiles sweetly at you as he kissed your forehead, you closed your eyes and leant into his touch happily, finding bliss at long last.

Only for the door to Jason’s room to burst open. ‘Jason! Are you ready yet Damian’s- oh.’ Dick stoped mid sentence when he noticed you cuddling up to his brother’s side.

You and Jason looked at Dick, who seemed frozen on the spot with his sudden stillness and unblinking eyes, before looking at each other.

‘Is he…okay?’ You whispered to Jason, concerned.

‘He’s fine. Dick’s just being…well a dick.’ Jason replied as he picked up a pillow and threw it in Dick’s direction, ‘Paging dr dickhead.’ He adds as the pillow hit dick square in the face as you slapped Jason on the bicep. ‘Be nice to your friend? Brother? I don’t know-‘

‘I didn’t know you had a significant other Jason!’ Dick exclaimed, completely forgetting what he was doing there in the first place as he smiled widely at you both.

‘And there’s a good reason for that.’ Jason growled as his hand on your waist tightened.

‘So they’re the reason you didn’t want to come out on patrol tonight?’ Dick continued as he made himself comfortable on the edge of Jason’s bed. ‘Who knew my little bro Jay jay was in love.’ He teased and he tried to pinch Jason’s cheeks, only for Jason to smack it away with a grunt, dick shrugs as he played on his stomach and kicked his legs. ‘So tell me how you met, leave no detail out of it.’

Needless to say dick has to be dragged out of the room by the scruff of his neck by an agitated Jason as he dropped him off with Damian, who was sharping his sword, and said ‘he’s your problem now.’ And went back to his room to you to cuddle.

[froggiewrites]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You spend the night crying into your drinks about how much you want Sanji, and how much it hurts he's in love with someone else. Sanji spends the night crying about much the same. Your friends get sick of it, and decide to help the idiots realize what everyone else already knows. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Misunderstandings, Sanji and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 4.1k

You are going to get drunk tonight. Plastered, even.

Another day, another victory, another adventure spent staring longingly at Sanji when you were sure he wasn’t looking. You could usually handle the embarrassment of acting like a lovesick puppy for a man you knew didn’t feel the same, but something about today really set you off. Maybe it was the way he so sweetly called Nami’s name when you all reunited, or the way he so carefully prepared Robin her favorite drinks, or some other transgression you can’t quite remember. You don’t know exactly what it was, but you know you’re irritated and hurt and a little heartbroken, and there’s about a half a dozen drinks with your name on them behind the bar.

The tavern is lively and loud, and the rest of the crew is clearly having a good time. Your eyes briefly linger on Sanji at the bar, but you try to force your eyes away. No point in lingering here, yearning for something you can’t have. You instead make your way to the back of the room, wedging yourself between Zoro and Robin, who seem to be drinking in silence together.

You had intended on sharing in the peaceful silence, broken only by some quiet comments and gentle chuckles, but three drinks in you can see them side-eyeing you, brows furrowed.

“What?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant it to, but you’re a bit too drunk to care.

“Just surprised you’re drinking so much, is all. You normally pace yourself more than this.” Robin’s voice is quiet and controlled, as though she’s just making a passive observation, but you know your friends and you know she is deeply worried about you.

“I had a bad day.”

“Really? You seemed fine earlier.” Zoro sounds genuinely surprised. Robin shoots him a look you can’t read, and he quickly shuts his mouth.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain someone?” Her voice is kind, so kind, but it makes you clench your jaw anyway.

“No.”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

Zoro mutters, “Oh, god damnit,” before taking another stiff pull of his drink.

“What happened, exactly? You both seemed perfectly friendly this morning.”

“I don’t…know. Everything was fine until it wasn’t, and now I’m all twisted into knots and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well maybe you can start by telling us how you feel, and we can try to help you unravel all of this.”

“We?”

You both ignore Zoro’s confusion and indignation. “Maybe…if you think it will help.” You close your eyes, grounding yourself, and focusing wholly inward. “I just think I’m…tired of wanting things I can’t have. It’s really hard to be on a ship full of people living their dreams, fighting for everything they desire, and I’m here, feeling like I have to constantly hold so tight I feel like my fingers will break or else it’ll all slip through my fingers.”

“And do you feel like you’re holding onto Sanji?”

“Not just him, I guess. To everything. To all of you. But I’m trying to let myself believe that all of this is what I want, and that it’s going to be forever, and then I see him smile at someone else and the illusion just…shatters. I’m not happy. And I know damn well it won’t last forever. I feel like I’m stuck waiting for an inevitable ending that I’ll never be satisfied with. Right now, I’m in limbo, and I can keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt, but every time I think about how hopeless I feel with him it kind of reminds me of how hopeless it all is.”

You put your head in your hands for a moment, taking a deep breath. “And it’s not only about him, right? It’s just kind of a general dissatisfaction with where I am compared to you guys. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t more about Sanji than it isn’t. He’s both, like, a symbol of it and the source of it. He’s the thing I want most, and he’s the thing I know I’m never going to have.”

“Why do you think you’ll never have him?”

“Because he’s in love with Nami.” You say it like it’s obvious.

Zoro is glaring at his drink, still wondering how he got roped into this conversation and praying you stop, while Robin gives you a gentle look resembling sympathy. There's something behind her eyes though, something you can't read, that makes you feel a bit uneasy.

"It's one thing, to have your love unrequited. For the man you're in love with to be hopelessly smitten with someone else. But god, it's another for him to be right."

"Right?" Robin's voice doesn't betray anything as she keeps her tone to a careful academic neutrality.

"It's just...she is that wonderful. I can't be upset about it because I can't blame either of them. She's beautiful and kind and capable and he's...well. He's everything. It just makes sense. It's somehow harder not to be bitter because I really don't have anything to be bitter about, if that makes sense."

"It would make sense if anything you said was true." Zoro's voice is gruff,  and you look to him in surprise, only to find his expression mirroring your own, as though he can't believe he opened his mouth. "He sucks, and she's great and all but she's no angel. And they aren't in love anyway so I don't understand what the problem even is." You think he's trying to help. Sweet, if ineffective.

"He's in love with her. He has been since the day they met. You know that, you were there."

"That isn't love. He's just a horny idiot."

"He's not an idiot." You hate how defensive your tone gets, how pathetic it makes you feel. You hate even more that Zoro and Robin both look at you with undisguised pity.

"I think what Zoro is trying to say is that you seem to think his feelings for Nami go a lot deeper than they do. They're just friends. He just speaks to all women like that."

"Not me."

You all hate the silence that follows.

"He hits on you too." Zoro's voice is a little weaker than before, knowing his argument isn't exactly rock solid. He's kind to you, complimentary, but he's never rushed into battle alone to save you. He's never ridden in on a blazing white steed for you, not like he has Robin or Nami. And sure, you've never been kidnapped like them, but it's hard not to feel the difference when Mr Prince himself has never played his part with you. He's kind to you, so very kind, but he's kind to everyone. That's just who he is.

“You know it isn’t the same, Zoro. It’s always Nami first. It always has been. He talks to me the same way he would any woman. Less than that, even.” You start tearing up despite yourself, and you hope your friends will blame your fragility on your drink and not your tender heart. “He just…he doesn’t look at me like that. He doesn’t fall at my feet, and it’s not like I want him to but…” You break into a quiet sob, and Robin’s hand comes to your shoulder, rubbing calming circles there.

Zoro leans in a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable but worried and kind nonetheless. “That stupid cook cares about you a lot more than any stranger on the street, and I think you know that. He’s just an idiot.” You look up at him, confused, and Zoro tries not to let out an annoyed sigh at your obliviousness. It isn’t entirely your fault. Who could blame you for thinking what you did? It’s not like Sanji helped with that. He didn’t give you the dramatic love confessions he did Nami or Robin. Nami had asked him once why he sang your praises differently than he did theirs, and he had insisted that he would give you only the grandest speeches, once he had prepared words worthy of you. The rest of the crew quickly figured out what he really meant: he was too nervous to say such a thing when he really meant it.  He would instead tuck his love into the food and drinks he served you, into the jacket he placed over your shoulders when you were cold, into the gentle smiles he gave you when you weren’t looking. Everyone had agreed not to push him before he was ready, to let you both find your way to each other naturally, but it was becoming apparent this was the wrong move.

You keep crying into your glass, and Zoro sighs. You’re both ridiculous. What a pair.

Across the bar, Usopp lets out his fiftieth sigh of the night. He has no idea how he got roped into this. Sanji is somewhere between sorrow and rage, buried in a pile of empty glasses that reek of beer. He's been going on for at least fifteen minutes now, and if Usopp had even slightly less of a conscience he'd leave him here to wallow, considering his problem is entirely self-inflicted. But unfortunately, Usopp is a great friend, so instead he bravely sits on this barstool, a listening ear to make sure Sanji's drowning his troubles doesn't end in Sanji himself drowning after he stumbles his way home alone.

"It's not right." Sanji's voice is shaky with emotion, even with his words slurred.

Usopp sighs, pretending he hasn't heard this exact line of conversation three times tonight. "What's not right, buddy?"

"He doesn't...he doesn't deserve her. He isn't good enough for her. That stupid swordsman...what does she see in him?" He takes another swig of his drink, letting out a deep sigh and dropping his shoulders. "He's just...he's not even nice to her. Not like he should be."

"He's being nice to her right now." Usopp motions over to where you're having your own pity party, one Zoro seems to have become an unwilling guest of. Robin is patting your shoulder in sympathy, while Zoro leans closer to say something to you, care and concern obvious on his face to those who knew him.

"But he should worship her. Everyone should. She's...she's..." Sanji drunkenly trails off.

"An angel?"

"A goddess." Despite the glaze over his eyes, his conviction shines though, granting him a focus he hasn't had all night as he gazes at her. "Someone to be cherished, protected, adored. He doesn't adore her. He should be on his knees right now begging for her attention, and he's just...talking to her. Like he would anybody."

"Probably because they're friends."

"But look at her. She clearly wants more than that. She should get whatever she wants. On a silver platter." Sanji really emphasizes that last part, lips pouting and brow tightening. Usopp looks over again to see you about to cry into your drink, leaning further into Robin. You aren't even looking at Zoro right now, but Sanji is still burning with envy. Usopp would love to set him straight, tell him that anyone with eyes could see who's attention you really wanted, but he knows you'd kill him, and he quite likes being alive. Sanji's so filled with malice and self loathing right now that he probably wouldn't even believe him, anyway. For a man so delusional about love, he somehow can’t see it when it’s right in front of him.

“I think you’re a little lost here, Sanji. She’s not in love with Zoro. She’s just drunk and sad. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He keeps that last part under his breath, and Sanji is drunk enough not to have heard it. Instead he frowns, taking another swig of his drink before trying to stand and falling directly into the counter. Your head pops up across the room, eyes wide and concerned, ready to leap to Sanji’s rescue. It’s amazing how blind that man must be to not see how obsessed with him you are. Usopp waves you off before hooking his hands under Sanji’s armpits and hauling him up. “Time to go, loverboy. You’ve had enough.”

“But she needs me!” Sanji struggles, but he’s so drunk he can’t properly utilize his strength. Lucky, or he’d already be halfway across the room to make an ass of himself. Usopp notices a small trickle of blood on his forehead from where he made contact with the bar.

“She’s fine, I promise. But you need to take a trip to see Chopper.”

“I need to help her! I can’t leave a lady in distress!”

“The lady will be in a lot more distress if she sees you’re hurt, Sanji! So get moving!” Usopp starts dragging him unceremoniously from the tavern, praying Franky will still be awake when he gets back to the ship to help him maneuver Sanji into his cot. Sanji passes out about halfway back to the Sunny, mercifully. Usopp hopes Robin and Zoro are having a better time with their other drunken crewmate.

You wake up with a pounding headache and the worst case of dry-mouth you’ve ever experienced. Your eyes just barely crack open, letting in a blinding ray of light, and you let out a small groan of pain. There’s a large glass of water by your bedside and some pills, as well as a small note from Chopper telling you to meet him in the infirmary once you feel up to walking. You chug the water and take your medicine gladly, touched by the sweet gesture. Your crew takes such good care of you.

It takes a while for the medicine to kick in enough for the light to stop hurting, but eventually you’re able to stand. You can’t remember the latter half of last night, your last memory being Sanji slamming his head into the counter while Robin and Zoro held you back from running to him. Zoro had supplied you with another drink then, and Robin had asked you more probing questions, but you could not for the life of you remember any other specifics. You make your way to Chopper’s infirmary so lost in thought you didn’t notice the mischievous looks in the eyes of your crewmates, the way their gazes subtly followed you as you walked.

“Chopper?” Your voice is still a little hoarse from having cried your heart out last night. You slip through the door, expecting to find your dear doctor ready to fuss over you and scold you for overdoing it last night. Instead you find Sanji face first in a bed, a small bandage wrapped around his head. Before you can ask if he’s alright, or if he knows where Chopper is, you hear it.

Click.

Your eyes widen. Your hand reaches for the doorknob, ready to turn it, and you find it doesn’t budge.

“What the fuck?”

Sanji groans again, slowly and carefully sitting up, before looking over at you. “What are you doing here, darling?” He looks at your hand, up at your expression, then back down to the doorknob. “Why…why is the doorknob backwards?”

Instead of the lock being where it should be, you find the keyhole on the inside of the door. There’s slight scratches around the nails holding it and place, and you realize someone has turned it around. There’s a quiet murmur of voices on the other side of the door, which turns to a yelp when you punch the wood. “What the hell is this?”

“We’re helping!” Nami’s voice rings out confidently from the other side, and you hear a few noises of agreement.

“With what, exactly?” You have a horrible sinking feeling you know exactly what they’re going to say, but you try to push it out of your mind, channeling the relentless optimism of your captain.

“We’re tired of you two being idiots!” Zoro’s voice is annoyed and unfriendly, but after a moment it slightly softens. “Just…talk to each other. Like people. For once in your lives.”

You don’t know why, but something about that makes Sanji’s brow twitch in annoyance. “Let us out, mosshead! I knew you were awful but I can’t believe you’d trap a lady!”

“It wasn’t my goddamn idea! Blame Nami!”

Sanji pauses in his yelling at that, but shockingly enough, he still seems upset instead of instantly kowtowing. He frowns, forehead wrinkling, but doesn’t say anything else.

“We aren’t letting you out until you’ve talked. We’re gonna go so you have privacy, but if you break out we’re putting you right back in, so don’t even think about just kicking down the door!” Nami’s voice is firm and commanding, and you find your shoulders slumping, knowing there’s no real point in fighting her. You’re both hungover, exhausted, and not in any state to continue the conflict. You sigh, making your way to a cot next to Sanji’s. You throw yourself down, the slight bounce you make on landing making you far more nauseous than it had any right to.

“Do you know what they want us to talk about?” Sanji sounds almost nervous, which surprises you. Does he know?

“I…have an idea. Do you?”

“I might.”

You both shift awkwardly in the silence that follows. You fidget with your hands, curling in tighter, anxiety eating at you. This is it. This is the rejection you’ve been waiting for. The final blow to shatter your fragile hopes, to crush your remaining optimism and the wonderful future you’ve allowed yourself to keep dreaming of.

“What do you see in him?” Sanji’s voice is quiet and seeping with vulnerability. His eyes are closed, as though he’s scared to even look at you and get your answer.

“What do I see in who?”

“In that stupid swordsman. Why do you care about him?”

“What?” You blink owlishly.

He finally looks up at you. He blinks back. “What do you mean, what?”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m dating Zoro?”

“Are you…not? Trying to do that?”

“No! God no! I’m–” You barely hold yourself back from saying trying to date you. “I’m not into Zoro like that. Did you think I was?”

“I–um. No?” His dour look turns sheepish, a small bit of red painting his cheeks. Adorable.

“God, Sanji. Zoro is not my type.” You both sit for a moment, before you realize something. “Were you upset because you thought I was into him?”

“He isn’t good enough for you.” He says it so matter-of-fact, like it’s an obvious truth. “No one is, but especially not him. You deserve the best, and nothing less.”

Your heart flutters a little, that little thing with feathers worming its way back into you, but you suddenly see Nami’s face in your mind and you crush it. To dream and watch it die is far worse than never dreaming at all. “That’s sweet, Sanji. But you shouldn’t say things like that. You might give someone the wrong idea.”

His head cocks to the side. “What do you mean, wrong idea? You do deserve the best. No one in the world deserves it more than you.”

“What about Nami?”

“What about Nami?”

“Does she not deserve the best? More than I do? More than anyone? Your sweet Nami-swan?” You fail to keep the bitterness out of your tone in that. Not bitterness towards her, of course, or even towards Sanji, really, just a sour taste in your mouth you can’t quite shake.

His brow furrows, lips downturned. “Well she deserves the best too, of course, but why would she deserve it more? Why wouldn’t you deserve everything you want?”

You let out a frustrated growl. “That’s what I want to know! Why not me?” You slam your hand over your mouth. God, he knows, and now he’s going to reject you, so sweetly and kindly, like he does everything, and it’s going to shatter you into a million pieces. You squeeze your eyes shut like blocking out the sight of him will undo what you’ve just done.

You don’t hear him reject you. You don’t even hear him move. You only feel warm hands on your cheeks, and you open your eyes to see Sanji right in front of you, nose to nose, and you can see reflected in his eyes something you might dare to call hope.

“Do you want it to be you?” You hear a longing in his words, see it in his eyes. You have never known Sanji as a man to want, to desire more than what he’s freely given, but in this moment it truly almost seems like he wants you.

You slowly take your hand off of your mouth. Your voice is meek, mouselike, but you force it out anyway. “Would that be okay? If I did?”

“Oh angel, it would be more than okay.” He slides impossibly closer, thighs on either side of yours, torsos pressed together, surrounding you wholly. “It is you. It has always been you. It will always be you. Is that okay?”

You want to answer him in words, something articulate that would move his heart, but instead you let out a soft squeak of surprise before grabbing his cheeks and pulling his lips to yours. They’re chapped, the dehydration from the hangover still plaguing him. He has morning breath. His movements are uncoordinated, unsteady. His goatee scratches your chin. When he opens his mouth, welcoming you further, he tastes like cigarettes and a hint of shitty beer. 

It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You end up on your back, Sanji’s weight holding you down, comforting and all-consuming. His hands rest on your hips as yours tangle in his hair. You only pull back when the demand for air is too much, and even then you consider ignoring the scream of your lungs. You both pull back, chests heaving, and Sanji buries his face in your neck.

“I never thought I’d actually get to do this.” He buries his nose further into your neck, his arms sliding underneath you to pull you into a tight embrace.

“Neither did I. I kept telling myself to stop dreaming about things I couldn’t have.”

“You’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“You’ve had me for just as long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

You take a strained breath. “I was…I don’t deserve you. And I thought you knew that. And that you were in love with Nami. That didn’t help.”

He pulls back to look you in the eyes, his gaze boring into you. “You thought you didn’t deserve me?” He sounds absolutely baffled at the idea.

“You’re kind, talented, strong, handsome…you’re everything, Sanji. You deserve everything you want. And I didn’t think you wanted me.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before a small chuckle forces its way out of him. “That’s…that’s so ridiculous I genuinely don’t even know where to start.”

He kisses your forehead. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I’m ever going to want.”

He kisses your cheeks. “I have wanted you from the moment we met, and I will want you until the day I die.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I have never met anyone more deserving of the world than you. And I’m not going to let anyone say otherwise. Even you. So there.”

You lean up to kiss his forehead in turn. “Well there’s nothing in this world I want more than you. Can I really have you?”

He takes one of your hands and places it over his rapidly beating heart. “You feel that? It’s all yours.” He lifts your other hand and kisses it in a deeply princely gesture that fits him perfectly.

Before you can reciprocate, the door slams open, and you hear Zoro’s disgruntled voice call out. “They’re making out! Can we be done with this now?”

Sanji whips around with even more vitriol than he usually reserves for the swordsman. “Piss off, mosshead. Can’t you see we’re busy?” The quick movement makes him sway slightly, and you’re forced to remember how horribly you’re both doing physically. If he picks a fight with Zoro right now he might end up puking all over his shoes.

“Ignore him, Sanji. We need to get some rest anyway.” You pull his face into your chest, which he gladly collapses fully into. When you run your fingers through his hair, he’s practically purring.

“Anything you say, my love.” His content smile grows wider when he hears your heart quicken at the words. Neither of you say anything else as your friends crowd the room, with their finallys and about times. Nothing in the world matters more than this right now: the feeling of each other’s warmth, the softness of each other’s skin, and the feeling of relief in both of your chests that your hopes were finally allowed to thrive.

[maskedbyghost]

arranged marriage with simon is everything! can you bless us with more thoughts about them? lyy

i wanted to write about this for a few days so i hope you like it :)

the mission’s over. it’s finally done. everything that brought you and simon together under the pretense of an arranged marriage has wrapped up. now, you’re both standing in captain price’s office, watching as he slides a stack of papers across his desk—divorce papers.

“well, that’s that,” price mutters, not quite meeting either of your eyes. “once you two sign these, we can close this chapter. clean break, like we agreed.”

you nod, but your throat feels tight, and your hands won’t move. you’re standing beside simon, close enough to feel the tension radiating off him, but neither of you says anything. price lingers for a moment, clearly sensing the awkwardness in the air, but he doesn’t push. he just nods to both of you and heads out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

the silence that follows feels suffocating. the divorce papers sit on the desk, staring up at you like a cruel reminder of what’s supposed to come next.

but you don’t reach for the pen. neither does simon.

you just stare at the papers. it should be easy—this was always meant to be temporary. but the thought of signing them makes your stomach churn. you can’t imagine not having simon by your side anymore, not after everything you’ve been through. and yet, you don’t know how to say it out loud.

you glance over at simon, and he’s looking right at you. his dark eyes are searching your face, trying to figure out what you’re thinking. his hand twitches, he looks at you like he’s about to say something, but the words don’t come.

instead, he just steps closer, his gaze flicking between you and the papers on the desk. and when he sees that you’re not moving, not signing, something in his expression shifts. a flicker of realization.

without a word, simon grabs the divorce papers and, in one swift motion, pulls out a lighter from his pocket. your heart races as you watch him flick it open, the flame catching the edge of the papers. they burn slowly at first, but then the fire spreads, curling the pages into ash as they drop to the floor.

you don’t say anything. you’re too stunned to react. but simon turns to you, his eyes blazing with an intensity you haven’t seen before. he steps forward, closing the distance between you, and when he’s just inches away, he cups your face in his hands.

“you’re not leaving me,” he murmurs, his voice low but firm. his thumb brushes your cheek, his touch warm against your skin. “ever.”

you swallow hard, your breath catching in your throat. “simon—”

“no,” he interrupts softly, but there’s no anger in his tone. just raw determination. “you’re mine, love. this… this isn’t ending.”

and then he kisses you.

he’s pouring every unsaid word, every unspoken feeling into that kiss. you melt into him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as if he’s the only thing anchoring you to reality. because, in a way, he is.

when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and his breath is warm against your lips. “we’re not signing anything,” he whispers. “i don’t care what anyone says. you’re my wife. that’s not changing.”

you nod, a smile tugging at your lips. “good,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “because i wasn’t going to sign them either.”

simon smirks, his hands still cradling your face. “figured as much.”

the mission might be over, but this—whatever this is between you and simon—is just beginning.

-------------------------------------------

MY TURN NOW GOD PLEASE

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving

[lqfiles]

PAY THE PRICE — 42. putting your satisfaction first

(wc: 2.820.. yeah.. have fun..)

donghyuck stood in front of your door for what felt like eternity, fist tightly held next to his body, contemplating his actions. hesitance had overtaken him again, and he was stood questioning the purpose of this trip in the first place. what was he even going to ask you? why did his mind seek after answers from you to questions he himself didn’t even know yet? haechan wasn’t all too sure about the answers to those inquiries himself, all he knew was that his heart was racing at a pace that felt abnormal, and you had no clue.

“just ask her if.. this is so stupid.” donghyuck groaned under his breath, feet shuffling backwards for a moment. gnawing at the inside of his lips, donghyuck took the hesitant step back forward before pushing through and lifting his hand up in a swift motion, knocking a few times before retracting his hand. his heart continued to race as he awaited any sort of commotion from inside your apartment.

you hadn’t expected the somewhat urgent knocks on your door. it caught your attention, multiple scenarios coursing through your head as you reluctantly made your way to the door. there were plenty of people you had expected at your front door, though none of them were donghyuck for whatever reason. it took you by surprise, the shock evident on your face as you locked eyes with donghyuck who seemed just as surprised to see you.

before donghyuck could mutter any words out, you closed the door. you couldn’t deal with this, at least not now. seeing his face had brought a turmoil upon you, the many emotions and realisations you had experienced over the past few days feeling much more raw and real. you don’t think you could bear to see donghyuck, not now. you closed the door, or you tried to.

donghyuck’s foot got caught in between the door, preventing you from closing it in his face. he winced a little, and the force at which you closed the door faltered for a moment which was enough for him to pull it open again. “can i come inside?” the words left his mouth the moment you two faced each other again. “um..” you gaped, unable to answer his request.

“it will be quick, i swear.” donghyuck added, lightly pulling the door open again. you held onto the handle yourself, contemplating whether to push it back close or not. but curiosity got the best of you and you slowly stepped aside, allowing donghyuck access to your place. his face morphed into an expression of surprise, not expecting you to let him in.

he stepped into your apartment, taking a look around while you carefully eyed his every step. “what do you want?” your words came out harsher than you intended for them to be and donghyuck picked up on the sudden hostility, turning around with his hands in the pockets of the hoodie he wore. “can we sit down somewhere?” donghyuck requested, taking steps towards the sofa in your living room. “you said it was quick.. stop wasting my time donghyuck.” you retorted, and this time your words were meant to be harsh. despite your clear annoyance, donghyuck remained seemingly calm as he seated himself on your sofa and stared up at you, waiting for you.

reluctantly, you sat yourself down next to him, not sparing him a single glance and instead choosing to stare ahead, even when you felt his eyes burning holes into your skull. donghyuck sighed, deciding to copy your antics and stare ahead too. “you’re ignoring me on purpose, aren’t you?” he asked through the silence, and despite hearing him loud and clearly, you remained silent, not wanting to answer the dreadful question.

your silence was enough of an answer though, and donghyuck sighed once again. “what have i done this time?” he questioned, voice faltering to a smaller mutter that almost seemed to be addressing himself rather than you. “don’t worry.” you answered after a minute of silence.

“but i do, because you’re ignoring me.” donghyuck groaned, turning his head to face you for a moment. “that’s not even why i’m here.” his head turned to face you again, though this time it remained there for an uncomfortably long time and it didn’t take you long to realise he wasn’t planning on looking away. “yeah? what was it you wanted to talk about that was so quick?” you reminded him, refusing to meet his gaze that was starting to feel intense.

“we need to talk about us.” you’re sure he must’ve noticed the way your eyes widened. “what are you talking about?” you subconsciously shuffled your body away from his, pushing yourself into the corner of your sofa. donghyuck slightly frowned before a soft exhale left his lips. “i’m talking about this weird tension that has been going on between us.” he corrected himself, thought the correction did nothing to soothe your tense body.

“what do you mean.” you mumbled loud enough for him to hear. “i know you’ve noticed it too.. i just…” your hands started to tingle from the sudden confrontation of everything you had been avoiding for the past days. was the universe punishing for something you did? was this your karma for fooling with donghyuck in the first place? “i just wanna know if that tension means anything to you.” it wasn’t the route you expected him to go with his sentence, and your eyes gravitated towards his, wanting to see the expression he carried. was this perhaps a joke?

he wore a look of doubt and slight unease as he finished his words. truthfully, you couldn’t tell his intentions. “i.. don’t feel a tension, but does this tension mean anything to you?” you resorted to playing coy, unsure of what your true answer might lead to. “i don’t know.” he sighed again with a rub to his face. “so why are you here?” you asked, the emptiness in your stomach not having subdued while your fingers drummed against your leg, a sign of the unease you were experiencing.

donghyuck noticed your uncomfortable fidgeting. “just relax, i’m not gonna do anything. i just needed to talk” he reassured with a soft voice, and for whatever reason, your body seemed to calm a little. “about what?” you hummed back in response, and it almost seemed like donghyuck didn’t know the answer himself as he silently pondered. “you know how i’m.. like scared of commitment, right?” he started off, and whatever dread had left you from his words, returned at the new set of words he spoke out.

“yeah, i’m aware.” you responded shortly, hoping he’d leave it at that. “are you scared of commitment?” donghyuck asked with his voice nothing but soft and almost fragile. it was as if he knew it was a risky question to ask. you huffed through your nose, once again contemplating your words for the night.

“instead of being scared, i just never thought i’d be able to commit to someone.” you admitted, the deep breaths you took helping you ease into your sofa, and for a moment you forgot that donghyuck was even there. “i understand that.” he assured you, and the response left you with a weird warmth. “you sound like you’re not anymore?”

“i still am.” haechan revealed. “i’m very scared that whoever i like won’t like me for who i really am” he added on, and you couldn’t help but frown as you continued to look ahead. “you know.. i’m scared of disappointing them by not being what they expected me to be. that they’ll be disappointed they’re dating donghyuck instead of haechan, you know?” his voice was a mere whisper, scared that if he got any louder he’d become too emotional.

and you screw yourself for being so emotional, let alone emphatic because you sighed, finally deciding to turn his way. you tried to meet his gaze that had lifted up once seeing your head turn, but couldn’t keep the eye contact, because you’re sure your emotions would’ve lead you to different scenarios if you stared into his eyes.

“in my opinion, donghyuck and haechan.. both of them, bring different attributes to the table and i think someone would be weird to not be intrigued by both.” you looked down at your lap as you spoke, attempting to make your words come out confidently. “also, it shouldn’t matter who they think they’re dating because at the end of the day, haechan is donghyuck and donghyuck is haechan.” you added on after a moment of silence. the silence that followed made you grow tenser, and you wondered why he hadn’t uttered a word yet.

you were starting to regret your words. hell. you regretted letting him into your apartment in the first place. over time, the smell of his shampoo had reached your nose, drowning you in the familiar sweet vanilla scent that you had grown attached to. it heightened all your emotions and reminded you of the predicament you were currently in. you liked donghyuck, and you felt like the worst person ever.

“that really means a lot, (—). thank you.” his voice broke the internal battle you were stuck in. your head snapped up, and you had only taken notice now of the fact he had shuffled closer towards you, essentially closing you into the corner of your sofa. “even though you said you can’t commit to one person, i’m sure whoever you will end up with, will be lucky to have someone like you.” he carried a fond smile, and you’re convinced you’ve seen that look before.

you wish he didn’t look at you the way he did right now, because it made the internal conflict of yours much worse as you realised you could almost mistake the look on his face of one you’d assume to be of love. or maybe, you just hoped that the way donghyuck looked at you was what a loving gaze felt like. his words hit much closer this time as you came to the devastating realisation that you wanted donghyuck to be the one lucky to have you.

“your hair has started to grow.” you changed the topic, afraid of what your mouth might have said regarding his thoughts. “it suits you.” your words were sincere as your eyes zoned in on his hair that had reached up to the nape of his neck. “might keep it for longer then.” he chuckled, lightly ruffling it and you lazily rolled your eyes. “i think black hair would look nice on you.” you suggested, hand shooting out to touch his hair too before you came back to your senses, yanking your hand back.

“i’ll keep that into consideration.” donghyuck’s gaze followed the hand that had reached up, focus remaining for some time. you cleared your throat, catching his attention as his head snapped up “you should probably leave.. it’s getting late.” you advised him. realisation dawned upon him before he rubbing the back of his neck in awkwardness. “oh, yeah, my bad.” he apologised before standing up and stretching his arms. you had to avert your eyes as his hoodie rode up for a split moment, revealing the tiniest bit of his skin.

with your head held low from the sudden embarrassment, you followed him to the door for whatever reason. a part of you couldn’t wait for him to leave so you could breathe normally again, while another part, the one too fond of him, wanted to keep him here for longer, just enjoying the time you had before your moral conscience kicked in and realised how wrong this was.

your hand reached up for the door handle, ready to open it but donghyuck’s own hand clasped over the wrist of your free hand, slightly tugging you back to gain your attention. you tilted your head back, awaiting his next action. “this might be weird for me to say.. but i seriously hope that no matter what happens between us, you won’t drop me out your life.”

you felt sick. you felt like you were getting punished. you felt your body warm up and your stomach swirl with a warmth. it was all unfair to you, the way he could casually say stuff like this with no worry about anything while your moral conscience battled to justify these small moments. you swallowed the lump in your throat, body melting into his touch on its own. “that’s so.. why?” you questioned. why would he put you through these dilemmas?

“i guess i enjoy your presence too much for you to drop me.” donghyuck wore a soft yet shy smile on his face as he himself couldn’t look you in the eye. you internally cooed at the sight, having to withhold yourself from wrapping your arms around him in affection. “as long as you’re nice to me, i’ll keep you around.” you decided that was the best way to convey your thoughts, and donghyuck seemed more than satisfied with your answer as a grin found its way to his lips and he looked you in the eyes. “that’s a deal.”

there was a strange glint in his eyes, one that almost resembled desire, and you were suddenly brought back to the night he was drunk. when he wanted to kiss you. “i really have the biggest urge to kiss you right now.” you’re sure those weren’t his exact words and you frowned your eye brows in thought as you tried to remember it. perhaps you were a little stupid, because it hadn’t dawned on you that the words had just left donghyuck until you looked back at him and he awaited an answer.

you were fucked, you were a bad friend, and you wanted to kiss donghyuck. it was wrong, everything about this was wrong, being so close to him felt wrong and letting him be vulnerable felt wrong. but you felt selfish, and your selfish thoughts encouraged you to put your own satisfactions first. donghyuck was ready to take a step back and apologise for his thoughts, but instead he got shut up with the impact at which you leaned forward with, kissing him.

it took donghyuck a few seconds to reciprocate, but his hand quickly found your jaw while his other hand reached for the side of your body, slotting itself there. the desire displayed in his eyes previously, showed through the eagerness at which he kissed you, tilting his head as his thumb caressed your jaw. your own hands found a place around his shoulders as you pulled him closer. you’re not sure when your back reached your door, but you couldn’t care much as your thoughts were occupied with nothing but donghyuck.

the way he kissed felt almost personal, as if his intentions weren’t based on a sudden lust, but instead a message. it made your heart ache, because while you kissed donghyuck, it felt like nothing but a bittersweet reminder that something closely in your reach wasn’t attainable to you.

on the contrary, donghyuck kissed you with the uncertainty about what the kiss meant and what it meant to you.

there was a lust that neither of you wanted to voice loudly, scared of the outcome and after 2 minutes, your moral conscience kicked in. you pushed donghyuck off you with a struggle and you hated the way he continued to chase after you, lips coming in contact with the sides of yours as you dodged him. “haechan, you need to leave.” you were out of breath and felt embarrassed about it. you hadn’t even noticed the warmth you emitted until now, or the way donghyuck was breathing just as heavily as you.

“we’re back to calling me haechan again?” he tried to chuckle through his breathing. “you should go.” you repeated, hand reaching behind you to grab ahold of the handle before opening it. you could feel your pulse in your throat, a suffocating feeling that was making you choke on the guilt you couldn’t swallow. you’re glad that donghyuck left on his own as your trembling hands couldn’t bear coming in contact with him again.

“are you going to ignore me after this again?” the question stung a lot. it stung because you felt horrible that it was his immediate conclusion. it stung because it was exactly what you were planning on doing. it stung, because donghyuck could never understand how much the aftermath of this was going to mess with you.

“are you going to pretend like this means nothing to you again?” you asked in the heat of the moment, body tensing up. your head was held low, and you realised how hard it had been to even make eye contact with him ever since he arrived. the realisation ached your heart again, it was a realisation that you’d never return to how it used to be.

donghyuck didn’t have the chance to utter a response out or even question you, because you had closed the door in his face, leaving you both with a confused, yet warm feeling.

previous — master list — next

notes ; gonna let this one marinate for 2 weeks and be back bye y’all 😅🫰🏽❤️ also sorry if there are any spelling errors i proofread this ones and said that will be enough..

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[feyascorner]

at the end of the day

summary. you and astarion have your first genuine fight and the other companions try to patch things between the two of you.

warnings. comfort/fluff

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

a/n. have not written an actual one-shot in a while omg,...

Breakfast is eaten in silence. One that's been extending far past its welcome date now.

Shadowheart grips her fork, feeling the flitting glances exchanged amongst the others around the table while she maintains focus on the two individuals sitting on opposite sides of the table. Your eyes remain trained on the bread sitting on your plate and Astarion swirls his chalice aimlessly in his hand, neither of you even acknowledging the presence of the other. The cleric grimaces as you stand suddenly, your chair scraping against the floor as you do so.

"Thanks for the food, Gale," is all you mutter before leaving the room with your plate in hand. Astarion rises from his own chair in an instant, huffing.

"I must take my leave as well."

When both parties have left the room, all five other companions stare at one another in a knowing silence. Lae'zel is the only one who doesn't seem the slightest bothered. Wyll is the one to break the uncomfortable tension in the air, clearing his throat after Lae'zel nearly bites her fork off. "I see they're still amidst their lovers' quarrel."

"What are they even fighting about?" Karlach groans, slumping into her chair with an exasperated groan.

"It was nice the first few days to have a good night's sleep without their incessant noises," Shadowheart grumbles, shoving an egg into her mouth. "But now, this is arguable worse."

"Should we...aid them somehow?" Gale blinks.

Lae'zel snorts. "They're adults, we don't need to coddle them, wizard."

Despite her words, they do find themselves a few hours later in unanimous agreement to do something to ease the unfamiliar dryness of the camp dynamic. It comes in multiple attempts. And to say few---if not all--were unsuccessful, is an understatement.

First, when out in the woods, Gale makes an effort to spark a conversation that would prompt both you and Astarion to join in. You nod occasionally, though lost in thought, while Astarion promptly ignores whatever he's talking about. It's a pathetic attempt that has nobody but himself babbling away, which earns a grunt from Shadowheart. It's enough to shut him up, thankfully.

Second, Karlach uses her uncanny ability to lift someone's spirits. Jokes, dancing, all that jazz. Even booze. She urges you to let loose, but all you do in response is smile at her apologetically while Astarion just glares off into space. Another failed attempt. Lae'zel pats Karlach on the shoulder.

Wyll tells stories of his monster hunting days which you usually take an interest in. Astarion naturally listens to what a monster hunter does when he's not hunting monsters, but that's all it is. You and Astarion only listen. There are quips and lingering questions, but neither of you ever direct it at one another, or bother to add into the conversation either. The sheer amount of teasing questions has Wyll's head spinning by the end of it. Lae'zel rolls her eyes.

Just when things couldn't possibly get any worse, you're ambushed. It's a small horde of goblins---nothing beyond your capabilities, but your companions do take some small scratches here and there. Somehow, though he rarely does, as he prefers staying behind you or Karlach, Astarion does too. And despite his efforts to hide it behind his back, you also didn't miss the cut lining Astarion's arm to his elbow. It's not deep by any means, and if it were your own injury, you'd likely just brush it off.

But it's on his skin, and he'd gotten it when taking a hit from an arrow that should've cut your arm.

Blasted hells, you think, as he shrugs it off. Even when you can clearly see him clenching his jaw to bite away the pain.

If battle won't be the end of you, you're sure your idiot of a boyfriend might be instead.

"Come here, you fool," you mutter, holding out your hand. He doesn't even consider the fact that you're mad at one another and immediately extends his arm to you. Habits, you suppose.

You mumble out a weak scolding as he watches you wrap the wound through his lashes. He shivers as you lather a cool ointment on the cut, hoping it's enough to soothe the pain before Shadowheart's recovered enough to properly heal him. He lifts a pale hand to your face, and for a moment, you think he might pinch you. Instead, he runs a thumb across your cheek, spreading the ointment on a scratch you hadn't even realized was there in the first place.

You meet his eyes, your own softening as he cups his fingertips around your cheek. The way he looks at you is overwhelming sometimes---like you're the only thing he gives a damn about in this world---but it's a welcome feeling when he hasn't even looked you in the eye this way in days now. For a moment, you realize you don't even remember why the two of you were mad at one another in the first place.

A laugh threatens to escape your throat. How childish, truly.

And then he flicks your forehead, unable to help the grin etching onto his lips when you blink in surprise.

"That was for making me sleep by myself for three nights."

You swat at his arm while he dodges each of your lazy attempts to get back at him. And though the two of you continue bickering, unbeknownst to you, you have an audience a good bit away, watching you return to your old ways after making them worry for so long.

"What a sight it is--to see young people in love again," Wyll smiles.

Shadowheart deadpans. "Isn't Astarion nearing 240?"

"Who cares?" Karlach shrugs, slinging her arms on either side of her companions with a toothy beam. "What matters is that they made up...and we didn't even have to help them."

[v6quewrlds]

❝ sky full of stars, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: joe's a big space nerd. you're a big space nerd. it's a match made in space nerd heaven.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: literally laid awake last night thinking about this. decided to write it during my lecture. short and sweet but i love writing joe in love. suppressing the urge to cite my sources on this lol. ty to wikipedia's black holes article <3 also don't worry y'all will still get a game day fic on sunday 🙂‍↕️

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: science talk, general cheesiness.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x nasa engineer!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 1k.

Your eyes scanned the living room, your gaze lingering on the framed LSU jersey hanging on the wall. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you thought of Joe's insistence on displaying his pride so prominently in his Cincinnati home. Despite his celebrity status, he remained as down-to-earth as the day the two of you met eight months ago, a quality you cherished deeply.

The gentle hum of the air conditioner filled the quiet room as the documentary's narrator droned on about black holes. Joe's breathing grew even and steady, his head comfortably nestled in your lap. You felt his hand twitch in his half-sleep, his thumb brushing against your thigh through the fabric of your shorts. You gently stroked his hair, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Your thoughts drifted to the upcoming mission you were helping to prepare at the Johnson Space Center. The excitement of possibly making more discoveries on your Mars probe was palpable, and you couldn't wait to get back to Houston. Yet, here you were, feeling more content than ever, with a man you never thought you’d end up with. The rhythmic beat of Joe's heart against your palm was a reminder of the love the two of you had found amidst your two dramatically different lives.

You leaned back, your hand still cradling Joe's head, and refocused on the documentary. The TV screen flickered with images of stars, galaxies, and cosmic phenomena that you knew so well from your work, yet seeing them here, in Joe's home, made them feel so much more profound.

“So, how do black holes, like, eat stars?” Joe’s sleepy voice interrupted the silence. His eyes remained closed, but his mind was clearly still processing the information he had been hearing.

“It’s not so much that they eat stars, but rather they have such intense gravitational pull that nothing can escape them, not even light,” You explained, your voice a soothing murmur. You felt Joe’s head shift slightly, his curiosity piqued.

“So, it’s like a cosmic vacuum cleaner?” He mumbled, a hint of a smile in his voice.

You laughed, the sound echoing lightly in the room. “In a way, yes. But a vacuum cleaner you definitely don’t want to get too close to. Once something enters a black hole, it’s gone forever.”

Joe’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at you, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile. “How can something be that powerful?” His gaze was earnest, the curiosity in his eyes warming your heart.

“It’s all about the mass and gravity. When a star dies and collapses, it can become so dense that its gravity is just too much for anything to resist. Not even light can escape, which is why we call them black holes. They’re like the universe’s trapdoor.” Your voice was soft, your eyes shining with the same enthusiasm that had captured Joe’s attention when you’d first described your job to him.

Joe nodded, his eyes drifting back to the TV screen. His fingers twined with yours, and you felt a gentle squeeze. “And what happens when something does fall in?” His question was genuine, his curiosity a bridge between your worlds.

“Well, we think that anything that gets too close gets stretched out like spaghetti. But before that, it passes the point of no return, gravity gets so intense that it bends time and space itself. It’s like nothing we can truly imagine.” Your words painted a vivid picture in the quiet room, your voice a mix of wonder and knowledge.

“You’re like nothing I could truly imagine. You’re like my own black hole, pulling me in with your brilliance every day.” Joe’s words were a gentle whisper, his blue eyes opening to find yours, a warmth that didn’t quite match the cosmic chaos on the screen.

Your heart fluttered. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Heisman.” You leaned down to kiss his forehead, your smile tender. The room felt smaller, the universe’s mysteries forgotten as the two of your shared a moment of quiet intimacy.

The documentary played on, but your attention had shifted. Joe’s hand found yours again, fingers interlocking. He pulled himself up, dirty blonde hair messy from rest, eyes squinting in the light. “You know I’m going to keep asking questions until I understand everything you do, right?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Joey. You know I love talking about this stuff with you.” Your voice was filled with affection as you reached for the remote and paused the documentary. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV, the only light source in the otherwise darkened space.

Joe sat up, his hand still holding yours. He leaned in, your eyes locking for a brief moment before your lips met in a gentle kiss that grew in passion. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as you shifted on the couch to face him. Your kisses grew deeper, a silent declaration of your love and appreciation for one another’s differences and shared moments of wonder.

As you pulled apart, Joe whispered, “You know, I still can’t believe you agreed to go out with me. A guy who throws a football for a living asking out a NASA engineer.” His self-deprecation made you laugh again, the sound music to his ears. “Still not sure why you’re with me.”

“Why not?” you said, your voice filled with warmth. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, Joe. And you’re incredibly good at what you do. Maybe not launching rockets, but you have your own kind of rocket science going on out there on the field.”

Joe chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours. “You always know what to say to boost my ego.”

“I’ll say whatever it takes to get me ahead of Ja’Marr in your heart,” you teased with a laugh, leaning forward to steal another kiss from his pink lips. The warmth of his breath tickled your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

Joe’s arms tightened around you, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “I don’t know, he’s pretty good at catching my throws.”

“Well, I’m pretty good at catching your heart, so I think we’re even,” you quipped back, your eyes sparkling with love and amusement.

Joe’s chuckle grew louder, the sound rumbling through the room like thunder. He leaned back, pulling you with him until you were lying on top of him, your legs draped over his. “You definitely win that title, babe. No contest.”

Your smile never left your face as you looked down at him. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. You felt his heartbeat beneath you, a steady drum that matched the rhythm of your own. The air between the two of you was electric, the kind of charge that could spark a star into existence.

[monstersholygrail]

HI HI HI I LOVED UR PUPPY BF BLURBO BTW- HI ! um food for thought... cat bf? maybe? like the total opposite of puppy but still absolutely needy lmao HI!

When you walk into your home the silence that greets you automatically unsettles you to the bone. While usually your Cat bf is all over you as soon as you walk in the door after you come home, now he’s nowhere to be seen. You close the door behind you, looking around the empty hall.

“Bubba, where are you?” You ask sweetly, even using his favorite nickname as you wonder if he’s upset with you for some reason.

Entering the living room you look around for him, thinking he has to be here. All his favorite napping spots, besides your soft squishy body, are in the living room. Just as you’re about to look behind the couch, a heavy weight pounces on you from behind and you both tumble to the ground.

A mix of soft purring and rough growling echo in your ear and vibrate into your back with your bf’s chest so tightly against you. Your bf grinds his cock into your clothed core, showing you how needy he had grown without you there. You can’t help but moan, arching into the girth of his length.

“You’re late,” your bf grumbles, his tail flicking in agitation before it curls tightly around your leg.

Your breath hitches as you realize why he wasn’t at the door. He is very much upset with you and by his hardness you know exactly why. So as soon as he starts clawing at your clothes and practically shredding them, you immediately help him get them off till you’re bare for him.

He stares at you, his pupils dilating wide at the sight of your glistening pussy already so wet for him. He can’t keep his hands off of you a second longer and he races to grab handfuls of your flesh, kneading them and watching your curves shift deliciously.

You yelp as he uses his hold to finally yank you back against his body. A shaky moan leaves you as his dick slides between your wet folds, catching every drop of your essence he can. You can hear him sigh and his body relaxes almost completely now that he’s about to be inside you.

He leans his chest over till his form is surrounding your large frame. The weight of him is comforting and a smile tugs at your lips at he nuzzles into your hair, taking deep whiffs of your scent.

“Waited so so long for you, it was torture. Weren’t back when you said. So unfair,” your bf whines and you can feel the pout of his lips on your head.

You gasp sharply as his tip rubs into your clit with every rock of his hips and you know it’s on purpose. Your bf wanting to torture you just like you had him.

“L-let me make it up to you,” you breathe out, arching your hips. Prepared for him to finally take you.

Before you can process the movement, your bf is flipping you onto your back, clearly needing to see your face. Trying to gain your senses your bf easily throws your legs over his shoulders and plunges into your wet heat. You mewl, back arching to take him inside you even faster.

“Just wanna fuck you, baby. Can I please fuck you? Wanna feel you clench around my cock and milk me dry,” your bf whines, his cock already fucking up into you with shallow thrusts. You don’t even think he realizes.

“Go ahead, it’s ok, it’s ok.”

With another whine he picks up his pace, his claws digging into your wide hips so he can pound away at your pussy like he’s been waiting to for the entire day. He ducks his head into your neck as if trying to get as close to you as possible. His whimpers quiet in your ear.

You moan, your hands clawing down his back in a way that has him hissing and pumping into your tight cunt with fierce determination. You meet his every thrust, wanting to reach so deep inside you that you feel him in your throat. Your bf’s whimpers grow louder and you try and squeeze his cock in reassurance.

“It always hurts being so far away from you. Just wanna stay with you, stay inside you, please,” he whines, rutting into you so hard the sound of your bodies meeting fills the room.

Your heart aches for your bf, even as your pleasure climbs higher from your mixed desperation to be together. You moan with every snap of his hips, barely even able to talk but you have to try.

“T-then come inside me. Fill me up to the brim so a part of you can stay inside me. C’mon, bubba. Need your cum. Let go,” you beg breathlessly.

Your bf growls and shifts to push your knees to your chest. Ripping a gasp from your throat as he stretches you even further. Your orgasm sweeps over you a few thrusts later and you scream, clenching onto your bf in every way. Forcing him to follow you into ecstasy. His cum gushing into your eager pussy and making you feel even more full.

Neither of you can get enough, your bodies still furiously meeting even as overstimulation begins to set in. When he whines again you relent and you both slow down until he sags on top of you. You stay like this for who knows how long and you know your bf doesn’t want to leave and risk his cum gushing out of you by the way he clings to you.

“How about you get the plug, love? Can make sure it all stays in. Then we can have some more cuddles.”

Your bf jerks up to meet your eye, a bright smile on his face. His attitude completely turned around from when you first walked into the door now that he’s had you. It won’t be for the last time tonight but he can’t resist cuddles for the life of him.

He carefully pulls out before rushing down the hall to your shared room. You watch him with an adoring smile, having hated being home late almost as much as he had.

[evie-sturns]

Attitude - Matt Sturniolo

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summary: matt comes to pick you up for a late night drive, but you show up with an attitude.

contains: highway sex/angry sex, swearing, arguing, dom/rough matt, mentions of an eating disorder.

all consensual!!!

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"I'm outside baby, you ready?" matt texts and i sigh. putting my phone in my pocket, and opening the front door.

the cold breeze of the night hits my face and a shiver runs through my body, i approach matts black van, illuminated by the street light shining down on it. matts inside, his face lit by his phone screen and i open the door to the passenger side, and climb inside with a huff.

"hey! you alright?" matt says smiling at me. "yeah im fine?" i say blankly and his smile drops slightly. he starts up the car and drives down the street. the awkward slience grows as matt approaches a red light. he sighs slightly "so what did you get up to today?" matt says breaking the silence and i ignore him. "y/n?" he says again louder.

"what!?" i say back angrily loudly and he rubs his eyes. "look do you want me to take you home, you seem a little bit tired." matt says calmly trying to keep himself contained. "no its fine?" i say quietly and crossing my arms.

he keeps driving along the highway, we haven't said a word to eachother in 15 minutes. suddenly matt pulls over on the side of the road and looks at me, sighing loudly. "y/n look, youve said 3 words this whole time, if your gonna keep acting like this i'm taking you home, i was really fucking excited about spending time with you but you clearly are not feeling the same." he says through gritted teeth as he looks away.

"yeah maybe i dont wanna be here! ive been so fucking tired this week and i quite frankly would rather be asleep. so take me home!" i snap back and matt stays silent, turning the car back on and turning it around. "waste of time." i hear matt mutter under his breath and breathe in shakily, dont cry dont cry. "just pull over for fucks sake!" i say on the verge of tears. "yeah now you want to talk to me?" matt growls as he slams the breaks on and pulls over. "you shouldntve snaped at me matt." i say quietly. "i snapped at you?" matt scoffs "ive been nice this whole time, and youve been huffing in the passenger seat the whole. fucking. time." matt says in disbelief.

"your such a fucking asshole, just accept im fucking tired for once, oh wait nevermind, you cant relate because your life is literally perfect." matts breath hitches in his throat "get in the back." he says loudly. i stay perfectly still. "now." matt says again and i stay still. he gets out of the car onto the highway and walks around the car to my door and opens it quickly, picking me up aggressively.

he places me on the grass next to the car, nobody on the highway can see us since are covered by the van.

my stomach flips as i feel a familiar heat grow between my legs. he kneels down behind me and reaches a hand on my lower back, forcing me to arch.

he rips my shorts down and scoffs "no panties and fucking soaked, pathetic." he says amused as he tugs my shirt over my head. "honestly pathetic." he says again before slapping my pussy causing me to yelp.

he yanks down his sweatpants as i'm on display for him on all fours, my back is arched patiently waiting. "please" i whine and he instantly slaps my ass "dont talk." he replies instantly before lining himself up with my leaking hole. he slams his whole cock into me causing me to scream and try to reach behind me and push him, instead he grabs both my wrists and hold them behind my back.

his thrusts instantly start, giving me no time to adjust to his 7 inches. he slams into me, pulling both of my wrists, causing me to arch my back even more, i scream and he quickens his pace "shut the fuck up." he growls as he goes faster. without warning i clench around his cock and orgasm, causing him to slip out and he instantly realeses his grip on my wrists, causing me to fall face first into the grass, humiliating me. i roll over onto my back and he slams himself back into me before i even have time to adjust my position.

tears are pouring out of my eye from how sensitive i am. "fuckk.." he growls as he twitches inside of me and instantly cums inside of me, thrusting a few more times, pushing it deep inside of me. before pulling out and collapsing on the grass beside me.

we lay in the cold night air for 10 minutes before he sits up, breaking the silence. "are you okay.. im sorry." he says shakily before standing up and picking me up. "i-..uh.." i stammer, still processing what just happened. he opens the door to the backseat and places me down, he quickly puts on his jeans and joins me in the backseat. "i got you my shirt, i assumed you wouldn't want to get changed into all your clothes so i have these aswell.." he pulls some panties out of his pocket "from uh.. last time." his cheeks go red and i laugh slightly "thank you baby." i say sliding on my panties and his t-shirt. he man spreads in the backseat, pulling me onto his lap.

"do you wanna talk about it.. ya know.. the argument" he says and i nod "well um i just.." i pause then continue "first of all im really sorry, i know you're tired too, and you honestly have a much harder life than me, ive just had a bad week, i dont wanna get into it but my uh, my eating got alot worse, ive found it hard to."

(30 minutes later)

after crying into matts chest for several minutes he took me to his home and fed me everything in his pantry, then cuddled with me in bed.

"are you feeling better? um, im sorry i went so rough earlier." matt says embarrassed, covering his face with his hands.

"aside from me not being able to walk up your stairs now, im fine."

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ik i didnt color code the speech but i honestly couldnt be bothered whatsoever!!!!!

anyways hope yall liked, also request shit for me to write in my inbox

[haveagarbageday]

Got a secret, can you keep it? \\ Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen (Lestappen)

summary: You're looking for your runaway driver in the paddock when you see something you shouldn't have. Before you know it, you become a part of this well-kept secret.

additional info: I'm on a roll! No, actually, I posted the Max one while I was at work, and then I had half a day left with nothing to do. This idea came to my mind and I had to write it down.

“The moment I find you, Lando, I’m going to skin you,” you hissed into your phone as you searched the paddock for the problem child.

But he only laughed at you, clearly enjoying the hide and seek game he had decided to play with you today. The problem is that he stopped in front of a camera, ready to give an interview, but two sentences in, his attention was diverted by some drama in the background, and he left to check it out. You had to apologize several times, promising to catch him and drag him back to do this properly. But damn it, he was good at hiding. This wasn’t the first time he hid from you, and something told you he could be literally anywhere, even in another team’s motorhome. Anything was possible with this little gremlin.

You reached a quieter part of the paddock that was full of spaces protected from the crowd, the perfect spot for Lando to hide. So, you methodically began to search for him, not missing any of the hidden corners and narrow alleys between the buildings either, but you found nothing. Your frustration was growing with each passing second, with each empty space that seemed to be free of him. When you reached the last one of the alleys, you saw movement in the back, and you were happy that you finally found the runaway driver.

Well, you couldn’t be more wrong. Because it wasn’t Lando, and it wasn’t just one person either. The signature blue and red colors of their shirts made it clear which team they were from, but when you looked at their faces, blood froze in your veins. You knew about all the jokes, all the fan theories and hopes, but never, not even in your wildest dreams could you imagine this happening. Sure, they clearly looked more at ease in each other’s company after sessions in recent years, which was good, people loved it, yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around the sight in front of you.

After seeing them almost swallow each other, Lestappen wasn’t just an urban legend to you anymore. Fuck. You wished you didn’t see that. You could already feel the heavy weight on your shoulder.

Before they could spot you, you decided to do the sensible thing and turned around to leave as quietly and as soon as you could. But not two steps later you heard a voice behind you. “Wait, let’s talk about this, okay?” Max said, taking a step closer to you, his hand resting on Charles’s arm.

Letting out the breath you’d been holding, you folded your hands behind your back and took a step closer to them. “I didn’t see anything, I swear. My lips are sealed, you don’t need to worry about that,” you were quick to assure them. Silence fell between the three of you, but then you remembered why you were here in the first place. “Have you guys seen Lando? He’s being difficult today.”

“Have you tried his driver’s room? He’s probably in the most obvious place,” Max offered, knowing the Brit well enough to give you his best guess.

Okay, you already knew he was smart, but this was the best idea you had heard in a while. Lando would surely pull something like this; chilling in his room, maybe playing some games, then giving you a surprised look as he went: “What do you mean? I’ve been here the whole time!” Wouldn’t be the first prank he pulled on you, that’s for sure.

You thanked him, then turned to leave again, and this time they didn’t stop you. But you heard murmuring, a quiet conversation that didn’t sound panicked, in fact, it sounded like they were discussing something excitedly. Whatever it was, it wasn’t your business. None of this was your business, so you were trying your damn best to forget the whole thing.

The problems began the next day after qualifying, when you were in the media pen with Lando, watching him like a hawk, and shepherding him around to make sure he did exactly what he was supposed to. You were between two interviews, discussing a few things, when Max approached you and stopped next to you to talk to his friend. You greeted him like you normally would, but otherwise you didn’t dare to move or speak, afraid it would become obvious you were hiding something. It probably takes time to get comfortable with the secret you knew, it couldn’t be more than that.

But then you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body as Max casually put a hand on your back while he talked, making it look like it was just a friendly move and nothing more. How could this be an innocent move when you could feel his thumb pressing into your skin, drawing slow circles to drive you crazy? You glanced over at him, and you could have sworn you saw a smug smirk tugging at his lips for a moment when he felt your eyes on him.

Lando was oblivious to the whole scene, he was just smiling brightly and giggling as they talked, too lost in their conversation to notice the way the Red Bull driver teased you. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed the reporter you’d been waiting for signal you that they were ready for the chat with your driver, so you apologized for interrupting them, then gently pushed him in the right direction. This left you and Max alone, and he finally let his hand drop to his side as he turned to you, the mischievous glint in his eyes giving away that whatever he was about to say would make you mad.

“How does it feel to know?” he asked casually, sipping on his Red Bull as if you were talking about the weather. Your eyes turned to him, silently begging him to drop this topic, but he didn’t seem to be interested in letting you off the hook. “We talked last night, you know. It feels so good that someone apart from the two of us knows the truth. Seriously, it’s so tiring to hide from the whole world, not having the chance to talk about the highs and the lows or ask for an outsider’s opinion when there’s a fight or disagreement.”

At first, you were just the kind of friend they’d been waiting for, serving as a neutral outsider when they needed another opinion about something. Then you began to hang out with them, one at the time, eventually serving as a glue between the two rivals who hadn’t really been seen together outside the paddock. Because one day you followed a well-prepared choreography at a bistro, making it look like you were out with Charles, while Max jumped in to get some food to go. Then you noticed each other, started talking, and he ended up taking a seat and joining you for dinner.

The same thing happened a few weeks later, when you and Max went to a club, where surprise, surprise, Charles showed up to greet you. The three of you got comfortable on a curvy couch in a corner of the VIP section, downing shots like there was no tomorrow, too lost in your little bubble to notice what you were doing. Because Max had an arm around your shoulder, talking to you while Charles moved forward to capture your lips in a drunken kiss, and only then did you catch the Dutchman whisper into your ear how much fun the three of you could have if you went home with them that night.

You only realized their relationship turned into your relationship, when Lando asked you about a photo of the three of you hanging out in the paddock on a race weekend, chatting and joking freely over your breakfasts. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with them off the track too. Why don’t you ever hang out with me when you’re in Monaco? You’re so mean,” he said with a pout.

Friends. That’s what you were for outsiders. It was good. With the days spent together getting more frequent though, you knew it was only a matter of time before someone sniffed out the truth. All the nights spent tangled up in bed, with the two of them making a competition out of pulling as many orgasms out of you as they could, surely had a toll on you. Physically, you were more than okay, they made sure of that, but being in this relationship was surely difficult to handle mentally.

“I’m not hanging out with you, you muppet, because I might drown you in a glass of water after five minutes. Babysitting you on race weekends is more than enough, thank you,” you told him with your tongue stuck out.

This conversation made you think, it made you reconsider what you’d been doing in the past months with the boys. For one, it was a dangerous game. Hanging out together more and more, especially when you were at a place where they couldn’t keep themselves under control thanks to the level of alcohol in their bloodstreams, the risk of someone finding out their little secret was higher than before you had been dragged into their life. Then there was the fact that you felt like shit. It felt like you were a piece that didn’t fit. They were so good together, why would you stand between them?

You knew that ending a relationship in a text was the worst, but you didn’t want to give them the chance to start negotiating. So, after the race weekend was over, you sent them a text that you wouldn’t go with them this time, then left the group chat, blocked the both of them, and got on the plane back home. The plan was simple: you would spend a few days watching movies and TV shows that were in your backlog while eating unhealthy snacks, and maybe you would meet some of your friends if they still remembered you.

What could possibly go wrong with that?

Well, everything. It was only your first full day at home when your doorbell rang in the early afternoon, and when you opened it, you found a very disheveled Charles standing there, watching you with a disapproving look on his face. You were ready to tell him to leave you alone, but then he gave you the puppy eyes as he let out a tired sigh, and there was no way you could shut the door in his face. You stepped aside and let him in, stopping in the living room door as you watched him sit down on the couch, and when he patted the empty space next to him, you were stupid enough to do exactly what he wanted. If things went like this, you would agree to whatever he came up with. 

“Blocking us? Really?” he asked you, the hint of disappointment not missing from his voice. “You could’ve at least talked to us in person, give us a proper explanation instead of disappearing like that. What the hell were you thinking? We would meet at race weekends anyway, you can’t think we wouldn’t corner you there.”

Looking away, you gulped and thought about what to say. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many stupid, fake explanations for your decision, but deep inside you knew you had to be honest with him. “You were fine together, Charles. Before I found out the truth, you had everything under control, and you were happy. But then you dragged me into your little secret, eventually poisoning our so-called friendship with casual sex, and–”

“So-called friendship? And casual sex?” he asked, his head slightly tilted to the side, eyes narrowed as he watched you. “Did it ever mean anything to you?” 

You hesitated, unsure of what to say. You really liked them, but the fact their relationship had a lot more history always made you feel like someone who didn’t belong. To you it was casual, just an outlet for getting rid of all the stress your job and keeping their secret came with. Just sex, nothing more. No emotions were supposed to be involved. Sure, they were friends, but it wasn’t love.

Apparently, you were an open book to Charles, because he ran a hand through his hair with a groan as he watched you. “We trusted you.”

“You can still trust me, I won’t tell anyone,” you assured him. 

He let out a desperate laugh. “It’s not that kind of trust, we know you wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m talking about us, about our relationship. We thought you felt the same way we did, that you loved us too. You could’ve been honest, you could’ve told us it didn’t mean anything to you before we caught feelings,” he told you, his voice forced to stay calm. 

“Charles, just try to hear me out. The two of you, that’s the relationship that can work in the long term,” you began to explain. “Me? I’m just… I don’t even know what I was to you. A plaything? A brand new shiny toy?”

“You’re not some toy!” he snapped, finally showing you how he truly felt about this conversation. “You, Max, and me? This could work so well if you just stopped being stubborn. Okay, I admit, we never thought about the possibility of a relationship like this, we always thought it would be just the two of us, but that’s because we had to keep it a secret. But you finding us that day? That was the best thing that could happen to us. We love you just as much as we love each other, that’s what you need to understand,” he explained as he grabbed your chin to force you to look at him. 

You took a deep breath to calm yourself, but the way he was watching you, silently begging you to accept the truth… It was too much. Tears began to roll down your cheeks, but he wiped them away, he kept telling you that it was okay, that everything would be okay, and there was no reason to cry. He repeated this enough times to make you believe it. You were beginning to believe they truly loved you, and you actually thought about the possibility of continuing this from where you had left off. Once your tears stopped coming, he leaned in to kiss you with a small smile on his lips. 

His stupid green eyes were mesmerizing as he watched you, and no matter how hard you wanted to resist, how badly you wanted to be strong and step back, you just couldn’t get yourself to say no to him. Sadly, he was well aware of this ability of his, he had used it on both Max and you a few times before to get what he wanted, and this time he looked just as smug as he always did after a win. 

“Pack a suitcase, because you’re coming with me,” he whispered to you. “Until you get ready, I’ll call Max to tell him the good news.” 

You began to wonder how long it would take you to admit to yourself just how important they had always been to you. Because they were important, no matter how many times you told yourself this meant nothing to you, otherwise you wouldn't be in your bedroom now, packing the suitcase as he asked. You wanted to please him, you wanted them to be happy, and why would you feel this way if you were indifferent?

Maybe this time you would be able to let yourself go and enjoy the relationship, and you would finally believe this could work.

As you were thinking about this, your phone that you left on your nightstand began to vibrate and the screen lit up. You picked it up and saw a message from Lando: “Have you seen this? Max's jet is at an airport near you, but I know for a fact he's at home. WHAT ARE YOU HIDING????”

Okay, maybe letting yourself go wasn't an option.