#if they were don't hesitate to ask me about it !

[toastedpotatoes]

"What's all this about?" asked someone behind him during a lull in his routine. Their voice carried the distinct lilt of the Folk (good) and an air of extreme exasperation (slightly less good).

Jal turned to face them, cooking implements still in his hands. "Finally—I mean, it would sure suck if—"

"I heard you the first time," said the newcomer, voice tired and dry as dead bark. "And we do understand sarcasm."

"Oh," he said. There went his plans. "Um. Take me anyway? Please?"

They stood facing him a long while, their expression reading visibly as why do I have to deal with this? even in the moonlight.

He must've got stuck with a dud or something. Weren't the Folk supposed to be... magic? Ethereal? Something greater than what amounted to little more than a sharp-eared person with lichen in their hair?

They sighed. "First of all, if you wanted us to take you, why did you bring iron?"

"Oh," Jal said for the second time. He looked down at the pots and pans. "I wanted to get your attention."

"Well, it worked. It also made an incredible racket. Put them away now."

He hesitated—he wasn't exactly eager to lay down his best defense against things like them—but this was his best chance at getting out of his life. He set them down outside the mushroom ring.

"Second," they continued, "why did you decide that the best time to do this was the middle of the night?"

This he had an answer for. "Well, you lot always dance in circles under the full moon, don't you? Figured now would be a good time."

They sighed again, muttered something about sky folk messing everything up, and said, "Not always."

Jal was getting impatient. The night was too chilly, he honestly should have been in the fey realms by now, and instead here he was getting interrogated by some house brownie. "So can you take me or not?"

"I can," they replied. "Doesn't mean I will. Why're you so eager to get abducted anyway?"

"Why's it matter?"

"It matters because I'm the one deciding if you get to go or not. And I'm being rightfully suspicious of the weirdly-excited-to-get-kidnapped human here."

He looked around for anything else he could do besides spill his life story to one of the Folk. There were still the pots and pans—if he could grab one quick enough—but they noticed him looking and their eyes flashed green in the moonlit dark and suddenly all the knots in the surrounding trees were blinking, watching, watching—

"I want a new life!" he cried, not missing how the trees snapped back to normal as soon as he spoke. "I want a fresh start! There's nothing left for me over there anyways. My home's evicted me, my friends've all left, and I can't face anyone there anymore, and—"

"You do realize that none of this necessitates banging bowls together in a mushroom circle, right?"

"They're not bowls, they're—never mind. Just—I can't stay here anymore."

They thought a moment. "Go back to bed."

"No!" He didn't even have a bed anymore. He didn't have anything left to lose. This was his only chance.

"Give me your name, and I'll take you."

Okay, maybe he had one thing left to lose.

"I'm not that dumb," he said, ignoring the highly doubtful look he received. He rifled through his pockets for—

"Thirty dollars?" he offered.

Their eyes narrowed at the bills he held out. "I don't need your money, and it wouldn't be enough anyhow."

"Thirty dollars and I don't leave all this iron in your precious forest."

They deliberated on this, periodically glaring at the lovely assortment of metal noisemakers he'd brought with him. "Fine. Deal. Pack up your clanking mess."

"Yes!" He gathered up his things and took their proffered hand, giddy enough that it was about five seconds before he realized they were leading him away from the mushroom ring, not into it.

"Wait," he said. "You said you'd take me."

"Never said where," they replied, calmly, and for a moment it felt like the trees had eyes again.

"Wait—but—where are we—"

"Relax," they said. "Just the nearest inn. You really need to go to bed." They picked a twig out of their hair. "And so do I, to be honest."

"OH BOY, IT WOULD SURE SUCK IF THE FAE TOOK ME!" cried the man banging pots and pans together in the middle of a mushroom circle.

[theonottsbxtch]

GOOD LUCK BABE | OP81

an: who doesn't love a bit of karma. me i don't actually, i only like serving it

wc: 3.6k

THE CHAMAGNE SPRAYED HIGH INTO THE NIGHT AIR, glittering under the floodlights that ringed the circuit. Oscar Piastri stood on the podium, his hands gripping the trophy he had chased since he was a boy. The cheers of the crowd, the flashing cameras, and the roaring engines all blurred into a single deafening hum. This was the moment he’d dreamed of—his first Formula One victory. He should have felt invincible.

Instead, as the festivities spilled into the team’s garage, Oscar found himself restless. The attention was unrelenting—mechanics clapped his back, journalists swarmed him for quotes, and the grid girls hovered too close, all perfume and red lipstick. Yet, he felt no desire to bask in it.

He stepped back, seeking a reprieve. That’s when he saw her.

No. Not her.

The woman stood at the edge of the garage, the same dark hair cascading over her shoulders, the same delicate tilt of her chin. His breath caught for a moment, hope flaring unexpectedly in his chest. But then she turned, her face illuminated in the harsh lights, and the illusion shattered.

It wasn’t her.

Oscar exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair. His pulse still thudded with the weight of disappointment. Get over it, Oscar, he thought bitterly. She was married now, living the life she always claimed to want. Yet here he was, searching for her in strangers’ faces, a habit he couldn’t seem to break.

He leaned against the wall, allowing his mind to wander where it shouldn’t, to a memory so vivid it might as well have been yesterday.

The English rain had been relentless that spring. At fourteen, Oscar had learned quickly that the drizzle was as much a part of life in this country as tea and school uniforms. He’d hated it at first—hated the cold, the grey skies, and the weight of feeling like an outsider.

But she had made it bearable.

“Come on, Aussie boy,” she’d teased, her hand tugging his as they dashed across the soaked football field. Her laughter was bright, cutting through the dull day. “I thought you were meant to be good at running!”

“I am,” he’d shot back, panting as his trainers sank into the mud. “Just not when it’s like this. How do you people live in this weather?”

She’d grinned, her cheeks flushed. “We just do. You’ll get used to it.”

He’d known even then that he wouldn’t just get used to her. She was sunlight in a world of clouds, the only one who saw past the scruffy kid with a funny accent. She made him feel like he belonged.

“What’re you going to do when you’re famous?” she asked, dropping onto the grass, uncaring of the mud that streaked her skirt.

“Famous?” he echoed, sitting beside her.

“Yeah. You’re going to be a Formula One driver, right?”

He nodded, a rare seriousness settling over his face. “I will be.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “You’re so sure.”

“Because it’s going to happen. Just like you’ll...” He hesitated, unsure how to finish. Just like you’ll always be here.

The roar of laughter from his team jolted Oscar back to the present. He blinked, realising he’d been gripping his glass too tightly, the condensation soaking his palm. He loosened his grip and sighed.

It was no use. No matter how many races he won, no matter how far he travelled, the past clung to him like an unshakable shadow. And tonight, even in victory, all he could think about was the one thing he’d lost.

The television flickered to black, plunging the room into silence. She sat for a moment, staring at the darkened screen, the image of Oscar lifting the trophy still seared into her mind. It was a victory she should have celebrated, should have texted him about like she used to, teasing him about how he could barely hold the cup upright.

But that felt like a lifetime ago.

Her husband’s snores drifted from the bedroom, low and steady. With a sigh, she pushed herself off the sofa, one hand instinctively resting on her growing bump as she padded into the kitchen. The sink was piled with plates from dinner, and the faint smell of garlic lingered in the air. She flicked on the tap and began scrubbing, the water scalding against her hands.

This wasn’t how 23 was supposed to feel.

Her friends had told her university would be the time of her life—lectures, late-night study sessions, cheap wine, and big dreams. She’d loved studying economics, felt alive when she debated market theories and solved equations. But it was all for nothing now.

She had a degree she’d never used and a life she’d never wanted.

Her mother’s words echoed in her mind, cutting through the quiet like a knife: “A woman’s happiness lies in stability. A good husband, a secure home, and children. Anything else is fleeting.”

Her mother’s voice had been so convincing when she was younger, so certain. It made her doubt herself, doubt Oscar, doubt the possibility of a future with a boy whose dreams didn’t align with her family’s values. And when the proposal came—her parents’ carefully orchestrated arrangement with a man from their social circle—she’d said yes.

Not because she loved him, but because she thought it was what she was supposed to do.

Now, her days were a blur of hosting dull dinners, attending charity galas she didn’t care about, and planning a nursery for a baby she hadn’t been ready for. She didn’t hate her husband, exactly, but there was no love between them. He was kind enough in his own distant, polite way, but he didn’t know her. Not really.

She pressed a hand to her back, wincing at the ache. The baby was only four months along, and already she felt the weight of it in every sense of the word. The weight of motherhood, the weight of expectations, the weight of being trapped.

The dishes were finally done, the kitchen spotless, but she still felt restless. The quiet of the house pressed in on her, too heavy to ignore. With a sigh, she turned off the lights and made her way to the bathroom.

Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it for a moment, letting the cool wood steady her. The small space was dimly lit by the glow of her phone in her hand. Her thumb hovered over his name in her contacts, her pulse pounding in her ears.

This is a bad idea.

But the memory of him on the podium earlier—his smile, his triumph—played on an endless loop in her mind. She’d watched his victory, felt the familiar ache of longing bloom in her chest, and now, here she was.

She slid down to the cool tiled floor, her back against the bathtub. After a deep, shuddering breath, she pressed the call button.

The line rang, each tone a needle in her chest. She almost hung up, but then his voice broke through.

“Hello?”

Her breath caught. She tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat.

“Hello?” he repeated, a mix of confusion and impatience. “Who’s this?”

“It’s me,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper.

A pause. Then, softly, “Sweetheart.”

She closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “I just... I saw the race. Congratulations, Oscar. You were incredible.”

His tone shifted, warmer now. “Thank you. That means a lot.” A beat passed before he added, “And... congratulations to you, too.”

Her brow furrowed. “For what?”

“I heard you’re expecting,” he said gently.

Her stomach tightened, and she felt her throat close. She hadn’t expected him to know, and hearing it from him made it feel all too real. A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another, until she couldn’t stop them.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softening. “What’s wrong?”

“I hate it,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I hate my life, Oscar.”

There was a pause, heavy with everything unspoken between them. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but steady. “I warned you,” he said, not unkindly.

“I know,” she said, her voice trembling. “You were right. About all of it. About him, about this life, about—” Her words dissolved into a quiet sob, her hand pressing against her mouth to stifle the sound.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice filled with concern. “It’s okay. Breathe. I’m here.”

She wiped at her tears, even though they kept falling. “I miss you,” she admitted, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “I miss you so much it hurts.”

For a moment, all she could hear was his breathing, steady but ragged, like he was holding something back. Then, softly, “I miss you too.”

Her chest ached at the sound of his voice, at the depth of longing she heard in those four words. Before she could say more, the muffled sound of her husband stirring in the bedroom made her freeze.

“Who are you talking to?” he called, his voice thick with sleep.

Her heart raced, panic tightening her chest. “My sister,” she called back, hoping her voice didn’t betray her.

There was a pause before he mumbled, “Alright. Don’t be long.”

The sound of him settling back into bed sent a wave of relief through her, but it was short-lived. She turned her attention back to the phone, her voice hushed. “I have to go.”

“I know,” Oscar said, his voice heavy with something that sounded like resignation. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

“I’ll try,” she whispered, tears welling up again. “Goodnight, Oscar.”

“Goodnight,” he replied softly, and the call ended.

She let the phone slip from her hand onto the floor, the silence of the bathroom swallowing her whole. She sat there, her head in her hands, the weight of her choices pressing down like a suffocating blanket. I miss you too. His words echoed in her mind, a bittersweet balm for a wound that refused to heal.

Oscar stared at his phone long after the call ended, his hand still clutching it like it might bring her back. The sound of her voice, raw and broken, echoed in his mind. I miss you.

He swiped a hand over his face, but it was no use. The tears came anyway, hot and fast, falling into the silence of his hotel room. He dropped the phone onto the bed and buried his face in his hands.

He’d spent years trying to move on, convincing himself that she was better off, that she’d chosen the life she wanted. But hearing her like that—so lost, so unhappy—made it impossible to keep pretending.

Oscar leaned back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling. The ache in his chest was unbearable. She’d always been the one constant in his chaotic life, the person who believed in him when no one else did. And now, she was trapped in a world that didn’t deserve her, a world he couldn’t save her from.

After a moment, he reached for his phone again, his fingers hovering over another familiar name. He hesitated, unsure if this was the right move, but then he pressed the button.

It rang twice before a warm, familiar voice answered. “Oscar? It’s late, love. Are you alright?”

“Mum,” he said, his voice cracking.

She went quiet for a moment, the concern evident even across the line. “What’s wrong?”

He took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, but the words tumbled out in a rush. “I’m a fool, I should have fought for her. She called me. She said she hates her life, Mum. She’s married, and she’s having a baby, and she’s miserable. And there’s nothing I can do. I can’t fix it. I can’t help her.”

“Oh, darling,” his mum said gently. “I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, his voice breaking again. “I thought I’d moved on, but I haven’t. I still—” He stopped, pressing the heel of his hand to his eyes.

“You still love her,” his mum finished for him, her tone soft but certain.

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I do.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before his mum spoke again, her voice calm and steady. “Oscar, sometimes the people we love make choices we can’t understand. And as much as we want to, we can’t live their lives for them. She chose this path, and now she has to find her own way through it.”

“But what if she doesn’t?” he asked, his voice filled with frustration and helplessness.

“She might not,” his mum said honestly. “And that’s the hardest part—accepting that you can’t save her. But you can still be there for her. You can still remind her that she’s not alone, even if it’s from a distance.”

He swallowed hard, her words sinking in. “I just... I don’t know how to let her go.”

“You don’t have to let her go, Oscar. Love doesn’t work like that. It stays with us, whether we want it to or not. But you can choose how you carry it. You can let it weigh you down, or you can use it to be the kind of man she’d be proud of, even if she’s not by your side.”

He closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I miss her, Mum.”

“I know you do, love,” she said softly. “And maybe one day, things will be different. But for now, focus on your life. Keep driving. Keep living the dream you worked so hard for. That’s what she’d want for you.”

He nodded, her words a small comfort in the chaos of his emotions. “Thanks, Mum.”

“Anytime, darling. And remember, I’m always here if you need to talk.”

“Yeah,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the tears. “I know.”

After they hung up, Oscar sat in the quiet for a long time, the weight in his chest still there but lighter somehow. His mum was right. He couldn’t save her. But he could be there, even if it was just as a voice on the other end of the phone.

And maybe, someday, that would be enough.

Oscar tossed and turned in the hotel bed, the sheets tangling around him as the night stretched on. No matter how hard he tried, sleep wouldn’t come. Her voice echoed in his mind, raw and broken: “I hate my life.” The helplessness clawed at him, making it impossible to rest.

By the time the first rays of sunlight streaked through the curtains, he’d made up his mind. He grabbed his bag, packed hastily, and called his team to arrange a flight back to England. The logistics were a blur—security checks, boarding, sitting through the long flight while his thoughts raced. When the plane touched down, his nerves buzzed with anticipation and doubt.

As he stepped into the arrivals terminal, his driver, Thomas, was already waiting for him, a familiar presence amidst the chaos.

“Good morning, Mr. Piastri,” Mark greeted, taking Oscar’s bag. “Do you want to head straight back to your place?”

Oscar hesitated, the question lingering in the air. His mind flashed back to her tears, the quiet pain in her voice. He clenched his jaw, his decision solidifying.

“Actually…” He leaned closer to Thomas , lowering his voice as he gave her address.

Thomas raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. “Alright then,” he said simply, leading Oscar to the waiting car.

The drive felt endless, every passing street heightening his anticipation. When they finally pulled up outside her house, Oscar’s heart pounded against his ribcage. The house was pristine, tucked neatly into an affluent neighbourhood—exactly the kind of life her parents had envisioned for her. It felt like the last place she belonged.

“Wait here,” Oscar told Thomas as he climbed out of the car.

The walk to the door felt like it stretched for miles. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorbell. What if this is a mistake? But then he thought of her tears, her whispered “I miss you,” and pressed the button.

The chime echoed faintly inside. Moments later, the door opened, and there she was.

Her eyes widened in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oscar?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Before he could say a word, her expression crumpled, and she threw herself into his arms, sobbing against his chest. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as she clung to him like a lifeline.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke, her muffled sobs the only sound. When she finally pulled back, her face was streaked with tears, her eyes red and puffy.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted. “I had to make sure you were okay.”

She wiped at her eyes, a fresh wave of tears threatening to fall. “You shouldn’t have come,” she whispered, but the words lacked conviction.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked gently.

Her response was immediate. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Come in. Please.”

She stepped aside, letting him into the house. It was spotless, almost sterile, with an air of perfection that felt suffocating. She led him to the living room, gesturing for him to sit.

“My husband’s at work,” she said, her voice low. “But he’ll be back in three hours.”

Oscar nodded, his jaw tightening at the mention of her husband. “Three hours is enough,” he said softly, his eyes fixed on her.

She sank onto the sofa opposite him, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “I don’t even know where to start,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

“Start wherever you need to,” he said, leaning forward. “I’m here.”

Her eyes met his, a flicker of hope breaking through the storm of pain. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel so alone.

She sat on the edge of the sofa, twisting her hands nervously in her lap. Oscar’s presence was steady, grounding, and yet her thoughts spiraled wildly. She glanced at him, his familiar face etched with concern, the same boy she’d confided in all those years ago—but now a man who had built his dream while hers crumbled into a prison.

“I don’t know what to do, Oscar,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel so... trapped. Like no matter what I do, I’ll never be happy.”

“You can do something,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “You don’t have to stay here. You deserve to be happy.”

She shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “It’s not that simple. I have a husband. A baby on the way. Responsibilities. Expectations.”

Oscar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes locked on hers, steady and determined. “You’re not a prisoner. If you hate it here, you can leave. You can come stay with me.”

She blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“My place. It’s not much—just an apartment near the team’s HQ—but it’s quiet, it’s safe, and it’s yours if you want it. No strings, no expectations. You don’t owe me anything.”

Her throat tightened, the weight of his offer settling on her chest. “Oscar, I can’t just—”

“Yes, you can,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “You’ve always been stronger than you think. I can even get you a job with the team if you want something to do. You have a degree—you’re smart as hell—they’d be lucky to have you.”

Tears welled in her eyes again as she looked around the room, at the pristine furniture and carefully curated decor that felt so foreign, so unlike her. “I could,” she said softly, her voice laced with doubt.

“You can,” he said, his voice steady.

She met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. “My mum will kill me,” she said, a weak attempt at humour that barely masked the genuine fear behind it.

“You’re killing yourself staying somewhere that makes you unhappy,” Oscar replied, his voice unwavering.

She stared at him, his words cutting through the fog in her mind. Slowly, she nodded, the decision taking shape like a fragile flame in her chest. “Okay,” she whispered.

“Okay?” he asked, his brow lifting slightly.

“I’ll do it,” she said, standing up. “I’ll leave.”

His expression softened, pride and relief flashing in his eyes. “Good.”

She hesitated, looking around the room again as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was saying. “I’m really doing this,” she said, her voice trembling.

“You are,” Oscar said, standing to his feet.

Without another word, she turned and walked upstairs. Oscar followed her, his footsteps soft as they climbed the stairs. She entered the bedroom, its pristine state another reminder of the life she was leaving behind.

She opened the wardrobe and pulled out a small suitcase, her hands trembling as she started to pack. Oscar stood in the doorway, watching her quietly. He wanted to offer help but sensed she needed to do this herself.

Her movements were hesitant at first, but as the suitcase filled, her resolve seemed to grow. By the time she zipped it shut, she looked at him, her cheeks flushed but her eyes brighter than they’d been in years.

“I think that’s everything,” she said, her voice steadier now.

“Then let’s go,” he said, offering her a small, encouraging smile.

They carried her things downstairs, the house eerily quiet. She paused at the door, her hand resting on the handle.

“I’m really doing this,” she said again, more to herself than to him.

“You are,” he said, his voice full of quiet confidence.

She turned to look at him, her expression a mix of fear and determination. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He nodded, stepping aside to let her take the lead. The first step was hers to take, but he’d be there to walk beside her every step of the way.

And while his mother may have told her he can't save her, he damn well proved her wrong.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @driverlando

[estcaligo]

Sebek's scars

Sebek x reader, romantic A/N Technically, this shouldn't be a part of my I Love Everything About You series because it's not in the right format. But a sudden drabble formed in my head while I was rereading Sebek's Scales this morning, so I've decided to include it as a special piece.

Sebek's scales are a wonderful idea, but I need to talk about his scars.

I mentioned once his lightning scars from using his unique magic, but what about his regular ones? He has been through intense training, survival camps, combat practice, and weapon mastery. There have to be some scars on his body.

So I find myself wondering - do they (Lilia, Mama Zigvolt, or Baul) erase these marks with magic, or do they let them remain? I hope they don't remove them.

Because then, you could trace them, kiss them, and tell him how strong he is. And he'd become all smug about it, proudly recounting the stories behind each one.

Of course, he'd mention Malleus at least ten times, declaring that it's an honor to bear these marks - medals of valor earned in the service of protecting his king.

But then, as your hand gently traces along his body, you notice a small scar that appears fresh. Before you can ask about it, he suddenly tenses, trying to cover it up, his usual bravado faltering. For the first time, you catch a glimpse of shyness in his movements.

"I'm sorry, does that hurt?" you ask softly, making sure his reaction isn't caused by pain.

"No, pain is not the matter here" he replies, trying to sound indifferent.

"Oh, good. Then… what's the story behind this one?" you're careful with your question, but try to meet his eyes.

He hesitates for a few moments before finally saying "This one is because of you."

"What? I-I'm so sorry!" your first reaction is panic, as he doesn't elaborate. "D-did I hurt you somehow? If I did, then I'm really s-”

"Ha! As if a weak human like you could hurt me!" his bravado returns as he smirks.

Then, taking your hand, he presses it gently against the scar.

"This one," he says "is from when I saved you from that darkness during our dream-hopping journey! You're such a weak human - what were you thinking, jumping in there…?"

You remember that moment, when Sebek had actually saved your life - one of many, many times. He has never mentioned scars obtained because of you before, though. Is that why he was acting nervous?

"Oh… I see. Thank you, Seb, and… I am sorry." you slowly start to pull your hand away from his body, but he suddenly grabs it, holding it firmly as he meets your gaze.

"Stop apologizing! Or do you think such a trifle is something to worry about for me?" his voice is a little louder than before, and you notice a hint of blush on his cheeks.

"I'm just sorry that you have to bear it because of me now…" you murmur, still sounding guilty.

"Were you listening to me just now? Or are your human ears too weak for even my voice to reach them?!"

You blink at him in confusion. His grip on your hand tightens slightly.

"I just said that bearing scars for protecting those who are dear is a great honor for a warrior!"

"But that was about Lord Malleus-"

"About Lord Malleus, of course. But also…" his voice drops to a quieter tone. "This applies to you, too."

For a moment, there's only silence between you, the weight of his words settling like a promise.

"As long as these scars mean you are safe, I shall bear them as my armor. Do you understand?" his gaze is still locked on you - serious and unwavering.

And you return his steadfast look with a gentle smile, leaning in to draw him into your embrace.

"Bear your armor with pride then, my warrior." you whisper. "And I will make sure no scar ever reaches your heart."

[larluce]

Merlin arrives with a baby in Camelot AU

(co-writing with @roxineedstosleep )

BASED ON THIS PROMPT >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

Chapter 2: A Baby's Call (Part 2)

In Gaius' chambers.

Merlin: (sits down, holding the baby to feed her)

Gaius: Here (gives him a baby bottle)

Merlin: Thanks. (takes the bottle and starts feeding her. Then looks around, spots some broken things and laughs) I see the baby got you a bit of trouble too.

Gaius: She was upset when you weren't around indeed. But she calmed down eventually. (serves Merlin his food on the table) Do you want some vegetables with that?

Merlin: (snorts) I know you're still angry with me.

Gaius: Your mother asked me to look after you both. What she didn't tell me is that I'd have to look after two babies instead of one.

Merlin: I got it. I was stupid.

Gaius: (softens his expression as he looks Merlin feeding the baby, murmuring to himself) In a way, you are a baby looking after a baby.

Merlin: Uh?

Gaius: (outloud) What did your mother say to you about your gifts?

Merlin: That I'm special.

Gaius: You are both special. The likes of which I have never seen before. But it seems you are not the same kind of especial.

Merlin: (lifts his head, confused) What do you mean?

Gaius: Well, magic requires incantations, spells. It takes years to study. What you both do is elemental, instinctive. However, while your eyes glow gold when you do magic, the baby's stays the same.

Merlin: Which means...?

Gaius: I don't know. You both are a question that has never been posed before.

Merlin: Did you ever study magic?

Gaius: (pauses, hesitant) Uther banned all such work twenty years ago.

Merlin: (thinking) That's not what I asked... (says) Why?

Gaius: People used magic for the wrong end at that time. It threw the natural order into chaos. Uther made it his mission to destroy everything from back then, even the dragons.

Merlin: (surprised) What? All of them?

Gaius: There was one dragon he chose not to kill, kept it as an example. He imprisoned it in a cave deep beneath the castle where no one can free it.

Baby: (falls asleep) 😴

Merlin: (stands up and walks to the improvised crib they made for the baby and puts her there carefuly)

Gaius: Now, eat up. You can stay with the baby this time. I'll take Lady Helen the preparation for her voice.

Merlin: (smiles) Thank you (sits to eat, thinking) If the king managed to kill almost all the dragons. Then we can't stay here for long. I hope Gaius can contact the druids soon.

Time skip. In the Lower Town. Merlin looking for somewhere to buy milk when he encounters Arthur and his gang.

Merlin: (just passes by, ignoring them, thinking) Don't talk to me, don't talk to me, don't talk to me.

Arthur: How's your knee-walking coming along?

Merlin: (thinking) Shit... (keeps walking, ignoring them)

Arthur: (mocking) Oh, don't run away!

Merlin: (stops) From you?

Arthur: (sighs) Thank God. I thought you were deaf as well as dumb.

Merlin: (turning) Look, I've told you you're an ass- (cuts himself, not wanting to be send to the dungeons and be taken apart from his baby again) And I apologise for that.

Arthur: (surprised) Really?

Merlin: No, but I can't exactly speak my mind without being sent to the dungeons again, can I? (smiles forcely and bows in mockery) Your Higness. Please, go bother someone else.

Arthur: (amused And curious) And if I allowed you to speak your mind?

Merlin: Will I be sent to the dungeons after that?

Arthur: No.

Merlin: The stocks?

Arthur: You have my word no harm will come to you.

Merlin: Alright. (takes a deep breath) You are a spoiled, selfish royal prat. An ungrateful little shit, blind to the suffering of those who keep you fed, clothed, and alive. Do you even know what it is to work? To bleed? To starve?

Arthur: (his smirk falls) Hold on-

Merlin: And how do you repay the people who serves you? With cruelty and mockery. You think yourself noble because of the blood in your veins, but there is nothing noble about you. You are a leech, feeding off the labor of others while contributing nothing!

People around: (gasp)

Merlin: (bows) My lord.

Arthur: (angry) How dare you. I have fought for my people since a very young age, went to dignitary visits to maintain peace between kingdoms. So yes I do know what is to bleed and to work. But of course an ignorant peasant like you wouldn't know that.

Merlin: And yet you act like an idiot, using people as targets just for fun!

Arthur: Don't pretend you know me.

Merlin: I don't NEED to know you and I don't WANT to know you. Just. Leave me. Alone.

Knights: (wait for Arthur to tell them what do)

Arthur: (furious, his jaw tensed, but shows a serious blank face) I'm a man of my word, so I will let you leave. But if I see you again I'll have you flogged.

Merlin: (with a very fake smile) Thank you so much your highness, you are so kind. (bows in mockery again and leaves)

Time skip. In Gaius' chambers.

Gaius: (enters) How could you be so foolish?!

Merlin: (changing the baby's diapers) I don't know what you're talking about.

Gaius: Don't take me for a fool! Everyone is talking about how you humilliated the prince!

Merlin: (grins) Really?

Gaius: It's not funny. You could have gotten yourself in the dungeons again!

Merlin: He was the one who gave me permission to speak my mind! So I spoke my mind. I wouldn't have done it if he hadn't and he needed someone to tell him his truths. It's not my fault he can't handle them. (finishes to change the diapers) There you are! 🤗 (lifts her)

Baby: (babbles adorably)

Gaius: (sighs) I guess I should be glad you weren't idiotic enough to get into another fight with him or use magic to toss him around.

Merlin: Oh, I was tempted. A lot. (looks at the baby fondly) But, as you said, I can't afford acting like an idiot. I have a lot more to lose if I'm discovered. (his face turns sad) You don't know why we are like this, do you?

Gaius: (shakes his head sadly) No. I'm sorry. I'm afraid I don't possess that knowledge.

Merlin: (pauses) You know, I used to think I was a monster. For being the way I am. For so long I asked myself, why am I like this? Why would the Gods give me so much magic if I can't use it? What is my purpose in this world that rejects everything I am? Everytime my questions came without answers, I felt like dying.

Gaius: And now?

Merlin: (smiles fondly at the baby again) I'm holding the answers in my arms.

Time skip. In the Dragon's Cave. A deprived sleep Merlin enters.

Kilgharrah: Merlin! Until you finally answered my calls.

Merlin: (looks around for the owner of the voice, exhausted) Where are you?

Kilgharrah: (flies to land in front of Merlin) I'm here! How small you are for such a great-

Merlin: Oh, so you are the one who has been talking in my head in the middle of the night.

Kilgharrah: Indeed. As I was saying-

Merlin: I don't care what you have to say! 😡 You know how many hours I've been able to sleep these past few days?

Kilgharrah: (taken aback) Ehm...

Merlin: 3 HOURS! I can only sleep 3 hours a day, because if the baby is not crying, she is making some stuff fly or break! And if she is not making some stuff fly or break, she needs changing or cleaning! But it's okay because I have my 3 hours of sleep, my precious and sacred 3 hours of sleep. And when I finally, FINALLY find some time for my myself to have my fucking 3 hours of sleep, YOU! (points at Kilgharrah with a savage expression) INTERRUPT MY FUCKING SLEEP! 😤

Kilgharrah: ...

Merlin: So don't ever interrupt my beautiful 3 hours of sleep again or I'll make sure you are with the rest of the dragons very soon. (turns and leaves)

Kilgharrah: (watches as Merlin leaves in shock and then thinks) So there is a magic baby too? Interesting. Though I couldn't sense her (closes his eyes feeling the magic around him) And I still can't sense her. Interesting indeed.

Time skip. Next day. In Merlin's room.

Gaius: (enters Merlin's messy chamber and gathers his clothes) Oi!

Merlin: (wakes up) AH! The baby! (quickly turns to see the crib and relaxes once he sees the baby is fine)

Gaius: Have you seen the state of this room?

Merlin: (rubs his face, tired) It just happens.

Gaius: By magic? Or are you going to tell me it's the baby's fault?

Merlin: Well... (points the baby's crib where everything seems to float or move near it)

Gaius: ... It's the baby's fault.

Merlin: Yes. (yawns) And I haven't had time.

Gaius: Yeah. Well, I'll give you some time to clear it up (warns) without magic. And then I want you to get me some herbs: henbane, wormwood, and sorrel. And deliver this to Morgana. (gives him a small bag with a vial) The poor girl's suffering from nightmares, she can't hardly sleep... (gets a better look at Merlin) Although I think at this rate I'll have to make something for you too. You look terrible. (tosses some more clothes at Merlin and leaves)

Merlin: Mmm, can't hardly sleep? I know the feeling.

Time skip. In Morgana’s chambers.

Merlin: (enters the open door, eyes not really focus on anything, very sleep deprived)

Morgana: (as she walks behind her changing screen, looking just as exhausted as Merlin, but entertained by the conversation) You know, I've been thinking about Arthur. (yawns) I wouldn't touch him with a lance pole. Pass me that dress, will you Gwen?

Merlin: (pauses uncertainly before fetching the dress)

Morgana: (begins undressing) I mean, the man's a total jouster. And just because I'm the King's ward, that doesn't mean I have to accompany him to the feast, does it? (yawns trying to hide it)

Merlin: (yawns too, as quietly as he can, and places the gown on the screen with slow movements, not really paying attention cause he's so SO tired)

Morgana: Well, does it?

Merlin: (manages a high pitched yawn)

Morgana: I mean, If he wants me to go... Oh, Gwen, don't tell me I'm spreading you my yawns?

Merlin: (tries to figure a way out of this situation, but he yawns louder instead)

Morgana: I thought so. Well, as I was saying- (looks over the screen, spots Merlin and covers herself quickly, screaming) AAAAH!

Merlin: (blushes furiously, very embarrased, not knowing what to do or say) Uhm... 😳

Morgana: ... You are not Gwen.

Merlin: No. 😅

Gwen: (enters) I'm here.

Merlin: (turns to her)

Gwen: Are you here to drop off Lady Morgana's medicine?

Merlin: Yes! That's exactly why I'm here. I didn't mean to- (yawns) spy or-

Gwen: (smiles) It's fine. Leave it there. (points to a small table in the entryway) Thank you, although I think you should get some rest.

Merlin: (leaves the vial where Gwen indicated and turns to Morgana, head hung in shame) I'm so sorry. (leaves quickly)

Gwen: (helps Morgana behind the screen)

Morgana: (comes out from behind the screen in a new dress) Who was that?

Gwen: A new servant it seems, my lady. And a really tired one.

Time skip. In the Banquet Hall at night. Court members gather.

Gaius: (stands on one of the walls closest to the servants' door, looking around and grabbing some snacks to put in his pockets for Merlin)

Arthur: (joking around and laughing with his companions)

Morgana: (enters with her breathtaking dress, making every men stare at her)

Arthur: (Cursing internally) Gods have mercy. (goes to her)

Morgana: (smiles at him, inocently) Hi, Arthur.

Arthur: (protective brother mode) What is it that you are wearing?

Morgana: It's called a dress. You should try it some time.

Arthur: You know what I mean. Change it.

Morgana: Why?

Arthur: It's... too revealing!

Morgana: (laughs) Who are you to tell me what to wear?

Arthur: I'm the prince!

Morgana: A prince that got humiliated by a peasant boy yesterday.

Arthur: (Taken aback) Who...who told you that?

Morgana: Everyone is talking about it. And if you keep bothering me, I'll make sure no one forgets it. (passes him)

Arthur: (fumes, but lets her be)

Merlin: (appears through the servants' door, completely in a hurry and looking for Gaius in the crowd)

Gaius: (spots him) Merlin! (approaches) I thought you were with the baby? What happened?

Merlin: (very worried parent mode) She just fell asleep, but she hasn't stopped crying! It's not her diaper or her food or a bump, I checked. Maybe is a cold. Or worst! She could be dying-

Gaius: Calm down! It's probably just colic, it happens frequently to babies that age. I have several vials labeled for that in my cabinet. (checks that the prince hasn't seen Merlin, not wanting Merlin to get into trouble again) Now, leave before-

Celebratory horns signal King Uther's entrance and everyone present falls silent and still as they notice the king passing them. The servants' entrance is blocked by all the maidservants and manservants trying to leave so as not to interrupt the king.

Merlin: (stands still next to Gaius. Unable to leave)

Uther: We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.

Applause. The music begins and Uther and the court take their seats. Merlin takes the opportunity to move through the servants who move to serve again, trying to remain unnoticed. However as he passes and Helen starts singing, Merlin notices the members of the court begin to fall asleep. Merlin covers his ears with his hands as cobwebs begin to form over the enchanted sleepers.

Merlin: (thinking, confused and scared) What... what is happening?

Lady Helen: (stares at Arthur as she walks forward and then pulls a dagger from her sleeve)

Merlin: (thinking) Wait... She wants to kill the idiot! 😱 I get the feeling, but it's wrong! Oh, what do I do, what do I do... (spots the chandelier) That's it! (magically drops the chandelier on her as she raises her arm to throw the dagger)

Court members: (wake and pull the cobwebs off, muttering, confused)

Uther and Arthur: (just as confused, stand up to see Lady Helen, now Mary Collins, lying on the floor)

Merlin: (thinking) Oh, shit. Did I kill her?

Mary Collins: (suddenly raises herself up enough to throw the dagger at Arthur)

Merlin: (slows down time instinctively to reach Arthur and pull him out of harm's way)

The dagger slices into Arthur's chair as Arthur and Merlin fall to the floor.

Mary Collins: (gives her last breath and dies)

Arthur and Merlin: (stand up)

Arthur: (thinking) What the hell is he doing here?

Uther: You saved my boy's life. A debt must be repaid.

Merlin: Oh, well. I don't really need-

Uther: Don't be so modest. You shall be rewarded.

Merlin: No, honestly, you don't have to, Your Majesty. (tries to leave)

Uther: (stops him by the arm) No, absolutely. This merits something quite special.

Merlin: Well, if you insist. (thinking) I guess some money wouldn't hurt to buy some things for the baby. Just, please hurry, she'll wake up at any moment!

Uther: You shall be rewarded a position in the royal household. You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant.

The Court: (applauds)

Arthur: (complains in a whisper) Father!

Uther: (ignores him)

Gaius: (tries to approach, but the number of people standing up and approaching the King and the young men is such that it is impossible for him to even object from his position)

Gwen: (claps with a pitying smile on her face, knowing what awaits Merlin at his new job)

Arthur and Merlin: (look away from each other, completely irritated)

Time skip. In Merlin's room. The baby seems not to have woken up, but everything that is close to her levitates. Merlin, completely exhausted, tries to put everything back in its place, but again some things float or start to roll.

Gaius: (knocks on the door and enters) You seem to be a hero.

Merlin: With a shitty reward. (gives up on putting the things back to place and sighs) Can I resign?

Gaius: No. Once Uther has something in mind it's impossible for anyone to oppose him. His word is law, remember?

Merlin: But... We had not planned for me to stay.

Gaius: And now, it seems you'll be here for an unlimited time. And even if I find a camp right now, it's unlikely I'll be able to get you and the baby accepted. I wouldn't worry too much though. It's a relatively easy job to do. And a short term one too.

Merlin: What do you mean?

Gaius: Servants who are dedicated to the prince's care don't usually last very long. He'll probably sack you soon. All you have to do is avoid getting into trouble with the prince and serve him-

Merlin: (worried) Oh no! I can't do that!

Gaius: Be with the prince? It's just following him around all day… (realises) oh, the baby.

Merlin: (sighs) I can't leave her alone, but I can't have her with me all the time either. Or can I?

Gaius: It's been a long time since anyone had a baby in the castle. And almost all the children are already teenagers of the servants or maids. Don't worry, I'll help you with her. (hands Merlin a book wrapped in a cloth) This book was given to me when I was your age, but I have a feeling it will be of more use to you than it was to me.

Merlin: (opens it and looks inside) This is a book of magic! I thought the king had destroyed everything related to magic.

Gaius: He kept a dragon alive, a magic book that pretends to be an herbalist's book won't kill anyone. Not if you are careful that is. Keep it hidden and then take it with you when you go with the baby to the druid camp.

Merlin: (smiles) Thank you, Gaius. I will study every word.

Guard: (knocks from outside, pretending not to notice the baby bottles in the room) Merlin, Prince Arthur needs you immediately.

Gaius: Well, you'd better find out what he wants.

BASED ON THIS PROMPT >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

...

So Arthur and Merlin had an even rockier start this time. How do you think this will affect their relationship?

Tagging @chaosofbelievers , @blackgigglypuff , @stressed-but-chill , @nocheaseforyougoodsir , @thedragonlies , @evedaser , @lolazoel , @sammythetoaster , @caraspud , @g00pygunkyguy , @bertoliosis35-blog , @purpuraffe , @lordemryspendragon , @herstarlight , @justaz , @myalchemicalgnomace , @haunted-glassesgurl , @exmintha , @dumbdemjin , @a-line-drawn , @itsjustmeandmyanxiety , @beebsnas , @rem-the-moth , @tmarauder101

[smystermy]

𝐡𝐲𝐠𝐠𝐞

tags: geto suguru x you; canon-compliant (but it isn't important to this fic); set some time after his defection; you both co-parent nanako-mimiko; established relationship; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; making up after a fight; inspired by this prompt.

warnings: just a tiny bit of angst.

word count: 949.

oneshot, loosely related to 'peel your heart like a pomegranate'.

The house feels too quiet.

Not the peaceful kind—the kind that usually comes when Nanako and Mimiko are fast asleep, and the night settles over them like a thick, warm blanket. No—this is the kind of quiet that feels off, like an empty space where something should be.

Where you should be.

Geto exhales slowly, sinking deeper into the couch, an arm draped over his forehead. His fingers tap idly against his stomach as he stares at the ceiling, waiting.

For what, exactly? He isn’t sure.

Earlier, you had been upset—he remembers the sharp huff of your breath, the way your lips had pressed into a thin line, the little furrow between your brows that always deepened when you were annoyed. He had tried to smooth things over, fingers brushing through your hair, a quiet, “C’mon, don’t look at me like that,” murmured into the space between you.

But you had turned away from his touch, huffing, “Just—go, Senpai.”

So he had listened.

He had left, giving you the space you seemed to want.

And yet, now, something gnaws at him—

A quiet restlessness.

He shifts, turning his head toward the hallway, his eyes lingering on the door that separates you from him before they slip away, drawn to the ceiling above.

He wonders if you’re curled up in bed, arms wrapped around his pillow like it’s some kind of weak substitute for him. If you’re tugging the blanket up to your chin, trying to will yourself to sleep but failing. If you’re still annoyed, or if the silence is bothering you too.

Then—he hears it.

A shift of sheets. The quiet creak of the mattress as weight is lifted. A slow, hesitant shuffle of feet against the wooden floor.

Geto doesn’t move right away. He keeps his eyes on the ceiling, listening, waiting as your presence grows closer. He can hear the way your steps falter near the entrance of the hallway, like you're hesitating, like you don't want to seem like you’re seeking him out—but you are.

He almost smiles.

Instead, he turns his head just slightly, catching sight of you standing in the doorway, wrapped in his oversized shirt—the one he’d tossed onto the bed earlier. The fabric swallows you up, the sleeves hanging over your hands as you fidget with the hem. Your hair is mussed from sleep, your eyes still heavy-lidded, and there’s something soft, almost shy about the way you’re looking at him.

Like you don’t actually want the distance you asked for.

Geto watches you for a moment, his gaze warm and tender. His voice, when he finally speaks, is quieter than before. Softer.

"Couldn’t sleep?"

You hesitate, shifting your weight between your feet, like you don’t want to admit it. Like you’re debating whether to be stubborn or honest.

Then, finally—

"I don’t like being alone."

It’s not what he expected, but it makes something in his chest ache.

He exhales a quiet chuckle, tilting his head against the couch. “I thought you wanted space.”

You look away, fidgeting again. “I don’t need space,” you mumble. “I need you.”

There it is.

A slow, deeply fond smile tugs at his lips, warmth pooling in his chest, seeping into his very bones. You take a small, sleepy step closer, then another, your fingers reaching for his wrist. Trying to tug him up.

But you’re so drowsy, and your grip is weak, barely making him budge.

He lets you try. Lets you pull at him with those soft, tired little tugs. Lets you cling, wordlessly asking him to come with you.

It’s adorable. You’re adorable.

"You’re not very strong, huh?" he muses, his tone dripping with amusement.

You huff, brows pinching, lips pressing into a sleepy pout. “Shut up.”

He chuckles, but he doesn’t make you wait any longer. With an easy stretch, he rises, wrapping an arm around your waist. And the moment he does, you melt into him completely, pressing your face into his chest with a soft, content sigh.

Geto exhales, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he scoops you up effortlessly, carrying you without a second thought. His hands are warm against you, steady—like you were always meant to fit into his hold like this.

"C’mon," he murmurs, already walking you back toward the bedroom. "Let’s go to sleep."

Inside, Nanako and Mimiko are curled up at the far end of the mattress, their quiet breathing filling the space. The room is warm, the blankets soft, the air thick with the comfort of home.

He tucks you in first, pulling the blanket snug around you like he’s wrapping up something precious. Then, finally, he slides in beside you, and the moment he does—

You reach for him immediately.

Fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. Body pressing close, seeking his warmth like you need it to breathe.

Geto chuckles softly, tucking you even closer, letting you burrow against him like you’re trying to fuse into his skin.

"You're clingy when you're tired," he teases, brushing his lips against your temple.

"Mmm," you hum, already half-asleep, your breath warm against his neck. "You like it."

And he does.

He won’t say it, but he does.

As your breathing evens out, as your warmth settles into him and the weight of the day dissolves into the quiet hush of the night, Geto buries his nose into your hair, breathing you in.

If making up always feels like this, he might just have to make you mad more often.

…Not too mad, though.

Just enough to have you curling into him like this, clinging like he’s the only thing in the world you want to hold on to.

general masterlist || geto suguru masterlist

[imagine-you]

If I Open the Door To Heaven Or Hell 4/? [Wally Clark/Reader]

Summary: You confront your scar. Word Count: 2k Author's Note: This chapter contains bullying and how reader died as a result of that bullying. Read On AO3 // Part One // Part Two // Part Three

You hesitated once you stepped into the bathroom, keeping your back pressed to the closed door behind you. Everything was washed in a red glow that lent an eeriness to the scene before you.  

You gripped your jacket tight in your hands before slipping it on. You figured you didn't want to risk dropping it even if it would make things harder on you later. You took a deep breath and forced yourself forward.  

The smell of cigarette smoke stopped you in your tracks.  

"What are you doing in here, freak?"  

You closed your eyes, taking a moment to try to center yourself. You hadn't heard that voice since you were alive.  

"Well? You going to stand there all day with that stupid look on your face?" 

You shook your head, taking another step into the bathroom. It gave you a better view of her. The one who had killed you. The one who had ripped everything away from you, leaving you to haunt the school forever. 

You knew how this was all going to play out. The girl who had bullied you mercilessly for years would end up being your downfall. You should have never stepped foot in this bathroom.  

She was leaning against the wall by the window. She had managed to crack it open and was letting smoke drift outside. It did nothing to cover the smell.  

"God, look at you. What a fucking idiot," she sneered before tapping her cigarette against the windowsill.  

You could feel panic building inside you. Your hands were shaking and you felt like you were frozen to the spot.  

After you died, she had been expelled. You never had to see her again. But now here she was, ready to kill you all over again.  

"You're such a waste of space, you know that? It'd be better if you never existed."  

You didn't know how to react to the words. Those weren't the same ones she spat at you the day you died. She was going off-script, which terrified you even more. Anything could happen now. 

"You can't even speak, huh?" She asked, finally dropping her cigarette to the floor and crushing it beneath her boot heel. "Got nothing to say to me?" 

You didn't know how to speak. All you could think about was where this confrontation was heading and you didn't want to experience it all over again. You had been stupid to let your jealousy and insecurity drive you into this.  

She started approaching you and you felt like you were going to throw up.  

"Y/N!" You heard a faint voice call your name. "Can you hear me?" 

You briefly turned towards the bathroom door, shocked to hear the muffled voice of Wally. He sounded far away and not like he was right on the other side of the door. But you could still hear him.  

Turning your attention away from her had been a mistake. Before you knew it, there was a harsh grip on your arm and you were being backed up into the wall beside the sinks.  

"I think," she started before popping a piece of gum into her mouth. "That this place would be a lot better without you here." She reached out and gripped your face tight, leaving the sting of her nails biting into your skin. She smacked her gum and grinned at you. "You got anything to say to that, freak? Or are you just going to stare at me?" 

You wanted to say or do anything, but you felt like you were frozen with fear.  

"Y/N, get out of there! Just come on. Please," you heard Wally beg.  

"You paying attention to me?" She wondered, pulling her hand back and slapping you.  

It jarred you out of your daze, leaving you to bring a hand up to cover your cheek.  

"I don't know why you wanted to do this, but please just come out. I'm right here for you. I'm not going anywhere." 

"You're so pathetic. No one's ever going to want such a freak, you know that, right? You're gonna be alone forever." 

"Please, babe," Wally pleaded, his voice wavering. "You don't need to do this. You don't need to relive it." 

You couldn't help but think about how Wally only pulled out the 'babe' pet name when he was really stressed about something.  

Another slap before she gripped your chin again, forcing you to look at her.  

"I should have made you eat that cigarette. Got a light? Maybe I can put this one out on that stupid jacket you love so much." 

You could hear someone pounding on the door now. It sounded as if someone was throwing themselves against it, attempting to break it down. 

"Whatever's going on in there, it's not real. You are real. You don't deserve whatever's happening," Wally continued to try to get through to you. He was out there doing his damnedest to break into your scar just to save you. You didn't know how you could have ever thought that Wally didn't want you anymore.   

"Or maybe," she continued, voice low, "I can stick it in your eye. Maybe that way you won't have to see how much we all hate you." 

You felt stuck between her disdain and Wally's desperation. It wasn't until you noticed her reaching for her pocket and slipping out a cigarette that you knew things were about to get worse.  

Suddenly, all you wanted was Wally and the promise of safety he offered. You used her distraction of lighting up again to rush past her, making for the bathroom door.  

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" She growled before you felt a hand tuck into the back collar of your jacket and pull.  

You knew what happened next, but you still weren't prepared for the fall. It felt endless as you struggled to stay upright, helpless against the pull of gravity. And then your head connected with the edge of the sink and you were on the floor.  

You stared up at the ceiling in a daze, because you didn't make it this far the first time. It was over before you could even hit the tiles. This was new territory and you didn’t know how to continue from here.  

You managed to push yourself to your feet and glanced down.  

Your body was on the floor. You were staring up at the ceiling, but you weren't blinking. You weren't even moving. There was a pool of blood forming beneath your head and your neck was bent at an unnatural angle and you couldn't take it anymore.  

You felt like there was something sharp twisting in your gut. You had never thought about what you might have looked like on that bathroom floor. Dead. Unresponsive. Gone forever.  

"What are you doing in here, freak?" She asked again and when you looked up, she was back over by the window, smoking.  

You glanced down at the floor, but your body was still there. The scene had reset, but the reminder of how all of this played out was staring sightlessly up at you.  

"Babe? Babe!" Wally was calling, still trying to break down the door.  

You felt a sob catch in your throat before you were throwing yourself at the bathroom door. You were so sure she was chasing you, intent on dragging you back down into the depths of your personal hell, but you didn't dare look back. You managed to open the door and slam it closed behind you.  

Wally was standing just in front of you. You weren't sure what he saw on your face, but the way his expression twisted from concern to horror had you feeling like someone had reached right inside your chest and was trying to tear out your heart. You ripped your denim jacket off and flung it down the hallway, never wanting to see it again.  

You threw yourself at Wally, taking both of you down to the floor. Wally had managed to sit up and you clung to him like he was your own personal savior. Your face was pressed to the crook of his neck and your arms were wrapped tight around his waist.  

He brought a hand up and smoothed it down your back.  

"I'm here," he promised. "I'm not going anywhere. You're safe. You're out." 

You weren't sure how long you sat there on the floor with Wally. At some point, he had begun to gently rock the both of you from side to side, his touch attempting to calm you as he whispered soothing words in your ear. His lips were brushing the shell of your ear and his hands were running along your back and sides and any part of you he could reach like he was trying to convince himself you were really there.  

"It was horrible," you finally muttered into his skin. "I was so stupid." 

"You're not stupid," Wally argued. "But why did you do that? You know how terrified I was seeing you walk in there?" 

"So stupid," you repeated before finally pulling away enough to meet Wally's eyes. "I saw you and Maddie in the pool." 

Wally's brow furrowed in confusion. "And that made you want to visit your scar?" 

"I thought you and Maddie...," you trailed off, not knowing how to continue. "I was jealous," you finally confessed. "And hurt. And stupid," you reiterated.  

"Oh," Wally said before he seemed to realize what you weren't saying. "Oh," he breathed. "Maddie and I were just goofing off. She needed a friend and I was being a friend. I didn’t mean it any other way." 

"I think I get that now," you sheepishly admitted. Wally had been trying to break into your scar just to drag you out. He was holding on to you now like you were the most important person to him and he was afraid you were going to slip away again. He looked at you like you were his everything.  

"No, look," he insisted, bringing his hands up to frame your face in them. You nearly flinched, thinking about the last person who had held your face. She had only touched you with malice, but Wally’s touch only made you feel loved. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. I would never in a million years ever want that and what we have is nothing like what I've got going on with Maddie or any of the others. You're the only one I've been kissing," he promised, his lips ticking up in a grin.  

"Okay," you agreed with a small nod of your head. 

"And I never want you to ever have to go back in there," he continued, glancing briefly at the bathroom door just over your shoulder.  

“Even if it helps Maddie?” You couldn’t help but check.  

“Never again,” Wally insisted, shaking his head. “You don’t know what that did to me. Seeing you walk in there. God, babe, I was so scared.” 

Wally was looking at you like he thought you had died all over again. In some ways, you supposed that was true.  

"I'm never going back in there," you promised him, hoping it was true. "It was--," you stopped before starting again. "And she--," you cut yourself off again. "It hurt," you finally settled on. It had also put things into perspective for you.  

"It'll get better," Wally promised. "I'm here for you and our friends are here for you too. I'm not saying you won't ever think about it again, but I'll do my best to distract you." 

You let your forehead rest against Wally's, taking a moment to simply look at him. The whole night had been a real rollercoaster of emotion and now you felt exhausted. There was really only one thing you wanted at the moment and that was Wally.  

So, you moved to stand up, reaching down to help him to his feet.  

"Want to pay another visit to the tech booth?" You asked, hoping he knew what you were really asking.  

The tech booth offered privacy and a comfortable couch and a place to revisit better memories. All it needed now was you and Wally.  

Wally grinned before placing a brief kiss to your lips.  

"Hell yeah," he agreed, reaching down and taking your hand in his. "I go where you go. Let's get the hell out of here."  Taglist: @morallygrayboys @loudtalehologram @hey-its-roseaurum @doves1120 @benjiiiisstuff

Author's Note: So, the next chapter is already written! It's this chapter but from Wally's POV, because I wanted to show what he was going through during this. It'll be posted next Wednesday or Thursday! If you want to be tagged, just let me know!

[ffleurist]

🕸️ 029 . a delicate balance

synopsis you confront him about his hidden identity as spider-man, leading to a vulnerable moment where he admits his struggle with love. as the emotional connection deepens, a strange unease fills the room when the nurse lingers with an unsettling gaze. wc 1667

the hospital room hums quietly under the dim lights. kaiser leans against the pillows, mask discarded, revealing the exhaustion etched into his face. you should leave, visiting hours ended long ago but you can't. not when his usual cockiness has given way to something softer.

"you should go home," he murmurs, but his hand finds yours. his grip is weak, but the warmth sends a flutter through your chest.

"not a chance," you say softly, brushing a strand of blonde hair from his face. "you'll start climbing walls again the second i’m gone."

he huffs a weak laugh. "tempting."

for once, he doesn't fight your care. when you adjust the bandages, he just watches you, quiet and unguarded. it's that silence that pulls something raw from him.

"you really stayed," he says after a pause, voice softer. "even after everything."

"of course i did," you reply. "what, you thought i'd leave you to flirt with the nurses?"

a ghost of a smirk tugs at his lips. "jealous?"

"don't push your luck, kaiser."

“mihya.” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

“what?” you ask, not sure if you heard him right.

“earlier... you called me that. please, say it again.”

you pause, your heart suddenly racing at the vulnerability in his voice. “mihya,” you repeat softly, unsure of what’s happening but feeling an unexpected pull.

his gaze softens, and for a moment, it feels like the world around you fades. he looks at you, eyes wide with something raw and unspoken, as if he’s just let down a wall he’s been holding up for so long. “nobody has given me a nickname before.”

“well then mihya, let me be the first.”

his smile fades, and something more serious lingers in his gaze. "i'm not used to this. someone staying."

your heart aches at his honesty. without thinking, your fingers curl tighter around his. "well, you better get used to it. i'm not going anywhere."

his eyes soften in a way that makes it hard to breathe. "good," he murmurs, head tilting slightly toward you. "because if you left, i'd probably do something reckless."

"like what?"

"like this."

before you can respond, he leans in, brushing his lips softly against yours. the kiss is light and hesitant, like he's afraid to break whatever fragile thing has settled between you but when you don't pull away, his hand moves to the back of your neck, deepening it just enough to make your heart stutter.

"you're a terrible influence, spider-man."  you whisper, your forehead resting against his and just for a moment, the danger outside the hospital walls feels a little farther away.

“but how did you know? what gave it away?” he asks, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“your tattoos, mostly,” you reply, trying to keep your tone steady. “and your injuries. you weren’t as careful as you thought. i’ve been thinking about it a lot, and everything started to fall into place. it all makes sense now.”

he looks at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. then, he exhales slowly, the weight of the silence settling between you. “you always were sharper than i gave you credit for,” he murmurs, almost to himself, before meeting your eyes again, the tension in the air thickening.

“i didn’t want you to know,” he admits, his voice quieter now, raw with unspoken fears. “i didn’t want to drag you into this mess.”

you stood away, your voice soft but resolute. “i’m already in it, whether you like it or not.”

he looks back at you, a mix of uncertainty, something softer, yet equally dangerous. "and what if I’m not the person you think i am?” he asks, his words heavy with something deeper.

“not this again, but then we’ll figure it out,” you reply, your gaze unwavering. “but i’m not walking away. not now.”

a flicker of vulnerability passes through his eyes, and he’s silent for a long beat. then, his lips curl into a faint smile, though it’s more weary than anything else. “you’re stubborn, you know that?” he says, almost in awe.

“maybe," you say with a small grin. "but i don’t mind being stubborn about this."

“i was bitten by a radioactive spider, and ever since i saw you at the stadium, i knew i had to get to know you better. when you caught me with the hoodie soaked in blood, and i watched you rush an injured man to the hospital, in that moment, i just… fell for you. i let myself get too close, too attached and i was already in too deep. but knowing the kind of man i am, one without the love of a family, one who finds solace only in soccer, i had to pull away. when i was spider-man, i felt invincible, like i could do anything. i felt reborn. i thought that with spider-man, i could love you and protect you. but instead, i just ended up putting you in danger.”

his words hang in the air, thick with the weight of his confession. you’re speechless for a moment, absorbing everything he’s said. slowly, you step closer, your voice quiet but steady. “you’re not the only one who’s afraid of getting someone hurt,” you reply, your eyes meeting his. “but running away, pushing me away, won’t keep me safe. it’ll just keep me distant.”

he looks at you, his eyes searching, as if trying to gauge whether he can trust what you’re saying. “to be honest with you,” he begins, his voice raw with vulnerability, “i don’t know how to love. i’ve been searching for it my whole life, and when i finally get close, i just push it away, and i—”

“mihya,” you interrupt softly, stepping closer. “stop rambling. i told you, i’m here. i’ll teach you how to love but only if you’ll let me.”

he stares at you for a moment, a mix of disbelief and hope flickering in his eyes. he opens his mouth, as if to say something, but the words seem to get stuck, as if there’s something holding him back.

then, suddenly, a third voice cuts through the silence.

“ahem.” the nurse clears her throat, and you glance up, the sound sharp in the otherwise still room. there’s something unsettling about her tone—too calm and too composed for the situation. “miss, you should really head home.”

you feel an odd chill in the air, a slight shift in the atmosphere, but you push it aside. still, the nurse's eyes linger on you for a moment longer than necessary, as though she’s studying you, almost calculating.

you glance over at mihya, who seems equally taken aback, his eyes flicking between you and the nurse, a frown forming on his face.

“righttt,” you mutter, trying to shake off the odd feeling, but the weight of the moment hangs in the air. “i’ll let you rest. we’ll finish this conversation later.”

he gives a small nod, his eyes still locked on yours, but there's an unspoken weight between you now. as you turn to leave, you feel his gaze follow you, the tension lingering in the air. “take care on your way home, mein Schatz.” 

the nurse watches you leave, her gaze too steady, too sharp.

you pause, turning to face him, the sound of the german term of endearment catching you by surprise. his gaze is gentle, almost tender, as if he’s offering you a piece of himself he’s rarely shown.

"don’t think this is over," he adds, his voice carrying both a promise and a hint of vulnerability. “i’ll be waiting for you once i recover.”

you feel the weight of his words settle in your chest, a promise you want to believe, but the eerie feeling from the nurse’s gaze still lingers. you give mihya a small nod, trying to push past the unease. "i’ll be careful," you reply, though it doesn’t sound convincing, even to you.

even as you stood outside the door, the nurse’s eyes remain fixed on you, too steady, too sharp, like she's watching you leave for a reason. you turn to walk down the hallway, but with every step, that unsettling feeling grows, gnawing at you.

you pause, the weight of the moment pulling you back. something doesn't feel right.

turning back around, you find yourself walking back towards mihya’s room, feeling a strange pull to go back. when you step inside, the room is empty—mihya’s bed is untouched, the nurse gone as well.

but there’s something else.

the window is wide open. the cold night air rushes in, making the room feel even more hollow. you step toward it cautiously, noticing the curtains swaying slightly as if someone just left.

your eyes flick to the window, and that’s when you see it—a faint green flicker from below, glowing just beyond the edge of the building. you freeze. it’s almost imperceptible at first, like the shadow of a lightning strike without the thunder. another flicker—this time brighter, stronger. a green light cutting through the darkness.

your breath catches in your throat. the air around you feels heavier now, the chill from the window mixing with a rising sense of dread. you step closer to the window, peering out carefully, but the light vanishes as quickly as it appeared, leaving only the dim, cold streets below.

was it just a reflection? a trick of the light?

no. there’s no mistaking it. the green flickers came from the direction of the alley behind the building—too controlled to be random, too deliberate to ignore. your mind races, the pieces clicking together. it’s him. the green goblin.

what just happened?

your mind races, but you can't quite piece everything together. and yet, the echo of mihya’s words remains, a quiet promise hanging in the air.

 “i’ll be waiting for you once i recover.”

despite everything, you feel like you can’t walk away just yet. not when you just got him back.

series MASTERLIST

notes from lily ❦⋆ : i have no words.. lol

TAGLIST

@mixolya @x3nafix @96jnie @tamashithe2nd @cookielovesbook-akie @yuiearyi @noomimi @stargirljas @jhsluvv @lotusofia @livelaughloveshidou @swagkittybear @axquella @passw-0-rd @hwaassaa @saeglazer @tofumiarchives @justanotherweeb666 @metaphorically-here @ravenbc @levihanmyotp @rybunnie @adrnmyknight @etherealrin @shosuki @90s-belladonna @wwastro @shr00mfairy @pan-kojiwa @pctterheadd @shumeow-h @deadlydollsstuff @renchai @nomyimi @beomn @heartmaddie @orphicarchive @sky-casino @8x9d @hanmastattoos @biscuitsx [tell me if i missed out anyone]

© ffleurist 2025 do not plagiarise, translate, or rewrite my writings without my permission !

[allthingsfangirl101]

Big Brother's Wedding Part 2 – Glen Powell

Part 1

I checked my watch before going outside. I had enough time to walk along the beach for a little while before I had to be back for the wedding. I was on my way back when I stopped. I closed my eyes and listened to the waves. 

"Your brother was looking for you."

I turned around to see Glen walking toward me. I picked up my dress and met him halfway.

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine," he smiled. "He just wants. . ."

"What?" I asked when he didn't continue. I held my breath as he looked me up and down. "Is something wrong? Glen?"

"Wow," he whispered. "Y/N, you look beautiful."

My face burned when his eyes returned to mine. I reached up and subconsciously tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Shannon really wanted all the bridesmaids in this color," I started to nervously ramble. "I was hesitant. I don't think I look good in this color, but you can't argue with the bride. At least the cut of the dress is flattering. And the slit's not too high."

"I think you look gorgeous."

I studied his eyes, trying to unscramble my thoughts. Glen has always been sweet to me. He's always had my back. He and Matt have always protected me. To be honest, I never thought Glen would ever look at me the way I looked at him. I always thought that he thought I was his younger sister. Never anything more. 

"Thanks," I finally said. "You look red carpet ready."

My comment made him laugh. "At least, this time, I won't be the one everyone is focused on. I'm looking forward to fading into the background."

"I don't think you could ever fade into the background," I teased. Glen laughed as he walked over and grabbed my hand. I didn't do anything as he looped my arm through his and escorted me back to the venue. 

"I'm worried," I whispered. I felt Glen look at me but I didn't return it. 

"Worried about what?" He asked gently. 

"About Matt," I said slowly, "getting married."

"He's going to be fine," Glen said, still not sure where I'm going with this.

"I adore Shannon," I tried to clarify. "But I'm worried that things are going to change once Matt's married. Change with him and me."

"Well," he said, pausing to think about his next words, "some things will change. He's getting married. But nothing is going to change with you and Matt. You two have always been extremely close. Nothing is ever going to change that, Y/N."

"I know," I sighed. "Deep down, I know that."

"All else fails," he said, trying to lighten the tension I had caused, "you got me. If your brother is caught up in married life, just give me a call. I'll come rescue you."

* * * * *

As the music played, Glen and I got ready to walk down the aisle. Every time I looked at him, my heart jumped into my throat and I couldn't form words.

"Don't let me trip," I whispered right before we started to walk down the aisle.

"Don't worry," Glen chuckled. "I won't let you fall."

Without another word, we walked down the aisle. Every second we walked, my stomach jumped all over. I couldn't settle my nerves. I felt like my legs were shaking so badly that I was seconds away from falling. I couldn't tell if Glen was making things better or worse.

Throughout the ceremony, my eyes would glance past my brother and toward Glen. Whenever they did, it seemed like Glen was already looking at me. After the ceremony, we all walked back down the aisle before heading to cocktail hour. I was talking to my family so I lost track of Glen. I didn't see him again until the reception. He was across the room, talking to their old friend group. I quickly looked away when he started to look toward me.

This went on all night. Whenever I looked for Glen, it seemed like he was already looking for me.

"Have you seen Matt?" Shannon asked, playing with her fingers. "It's time to cut the cake."

"I just saw him," I said, trying to comfort her. "He might have gone outside with some old friends. I'll go get him."

I walked outside and searched for my brother. It took a few minutes but I eventually found him and Glen standing off to the side, under a nearby beach gazebo.

"Alright," I heard my brother sigh, "I'm tired of this."

"Tired of what?" Glen asked.

"You and Y/N staring at each other, but neither one of you having the guts to tell the other how you feel. Will you just man up and tell my sister you're in love with her? I'm tired of her dating losers when my best friend would take better care of her."

"It's not that simple. I mean. . . And I'm not in love with. . . Wait, you think that Y/N has feelings for me?"

My brother just laughed. "She has had feelings for you almost as long as you've had feelings for her. So, save me the pain and just tell her."

I held my breath as I waited for Glen's response. "You sure you're okay with me asking out your baby sister?"

"I actually am," Matt chuckled. "All a big brother wants is to see his baby sister happy. And I think you could make her happy."

"I'll try," Glen mumbled to himself after my brother walked away.

When Matt turned around, he saw me and instantly smirked. He walked over and not-so-subtly pushed me toward Glen. He heard the scuffle and turned around.

"Hey, Y/N," he smiled like nothing happened. "You having fun at the party?"

"I am," I said, subconsciously smoothing out my dress. Glen's eyes glanced behind me. I looked over my shoulder, holding in my laughter when I saw my brother almost trip over a chair as he ran away.

"He's not very smooth, is he?" Glen laughed as we looked back at each other.

"About as smooth as a cactus," I chuckled.

Suddenly, a thick tension fell between us. I wanted to say something, but nothing seemed good enough. 

"So," Glen started slowly as he walked over to me, "your brother seems to believe that we both have feelings for each other but neither one of us has said anything to the other."

"I guess so," I said quietly. "But to be fair, I always thought you thought I was Matt's annoying little sister."

"You have never been annoying," he said, lowering his voice as he took a few steps closer to me. "And you were so much more than Matt's little sister. I wanted you to be more."

My heart jumped into my throat when Glen grabbed my hands.

"I wanted you to be more than Matt's best friend."

Before I could think this through, Glen leaned in and pressed his lips delicately to mine. The kiss was slow and built up. As it built, I wrapped my arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around my waist.

We broke apart, both of us out of breath. The second we leaned back, we had matching blushes on our faces.

"I know the reception is still in full swing," Glen smirked as he reached up and moved a piece of hair out of my face, "but what do you think about going for a walk along the beach?"

"I think that is the perfect first date."

[celestiallystella]

can you do a fluff fic where reader is turned into a bunny and legend has to help them understand what's going on? No beastiality just helping understand things like urges to run and things diffrent from their hylian forms? -J

Im hyped to write this, tysm fr requesting!

Legend/Link × GN Reader

This one can be read as platonic OR romantic for your guys' relationship, though I personally envision romantic. Fair warning, he does laugh at you at least once </3

also, i dont know much about bunny instincts beyond dig?? burrow???? hop??? so.. 💀

Hope you enjoy!!

Legend is in quiet disbelief.

You're a bunny. A cute, fluffy bunny. Suddenly, he understands why Sky had been so quick to scoop Legend himself up and coo at him that one time, though he'll never admit that.

Honestly, if you weren't hyperventilating, Legend would be doing just that. As it was, you are hyperventilating, and Legend doesn't really want to find out how quickly a bunny passes out when it's hyperventilating.

Bending down, Legend reaches a hand out to you.

"...Hey," He says softly, glad none of the others are around right now. He'd rather not deal with teasing. He also isn't sure how you'd react to the teasing right now.

He remembers how startling it was for him to be forced into the wrong body, of a different species.

He's relieved to see your eyes pin to him, big, round eyes. He has a feeling if you were in Hylian form, you'd be crying.

"Can I pick you up?" Legend asks, voice quiet, and an inexplicable sense of relief washes over him as he watches you stumble forward, panicking more as you fall over yourself.

He scoops you up carefully, "You're okay," He says, chin placed on your fluffy little head.

"I can't..." He sighs, "We've gotta get you calmed down. You're okay. I've got you," Legend says quietly, "You're safe, we'll get you turned back. You're okay." He repeats.

His hand gently runs through the fur of your side in short little bursts, gentle and slow. It works, slowly, and you're breathing stutters into something more normal for bunnies.

"There you go," Legend says, "There you go.." Legend sighs softly, and a small smile appears as you press your fluffy little face against his neck.

"Can you speak?" He asks, trying to figure out if you were like Twilight in that sense or more like him.

A little squeak is his response, and he takes that as a resounding no.

He refuses to sigh. Instead, he hums, "Well, don't worry. We've just got to make our way back to camp and I can give you a moon pearl. I.." He does sigh this time, "I've been turned into a rabbit before too, and that turns me back."

You squeak again, and he pulls you away from his chest. He holds you out at arms length, sees you aren't panicking, and lets a shit eating grin appear on his face.

"Fuckin' bunny," He teases, and watches as you kick your legs, "Floppy ears." He says, huffing out a laugh before tucking you close, "Least you aren't pink."

You squeak again, near inquisitively, and Legend rolls his eyes, "Yeah, I was a pink rabbit." He confirms, before scowling, "Don't go telling anyone, I don't want them to know."

You headbutt his chin gently, and Legend moves his head to kiss in between your ears gently. He'd be embarrassed about it if it wasn't for the fact that you were just so cute.

"You wanna keep this a secret?" He asks, not at all able to judge.

You nod, and he hums, "...Want me to set you outside of camp and go get my bag?"

You don't nod again, but you don't shake your head. You're still for a moment, thinking it over, Legend is sure.

In the end, you shake your head, and Legend huffs, "How do you want me to get my bag and keep this a secret at the same time, huh?" He asks, despite knowing damn well you can't answer it. You know it too, given the dramatic little sigh you let out.

Legend hesitates, "..Listen," He starts, "I know it's scary, being this defenseless, but you'll be okay on the edges of camp for a moment. I'll make it quick, okay?" He assures, voice near a murmur.

It takes a while for you to respond, and in the meantime he starts walking back towards camp. You guys weren't that far away from camp, so he made sure to drag his feet while you thought.

You squeaked eventually to get his attention, and gestured with your little hand (aww!) to a tree. Legend blinks, frowns, and looks between you and the tree. It dawns on him after a moment.

"...Are you asking me to put you in a tree?" He asks incredulously.

You nod.

Legend caves.

He ends up setting you on a branch you near cling to, little tail twitching. Legend has to bite back a laugh at you, before walking back into camp.

He's careful to act relaxed as he crouches by his bedroll and grabs his smaller pouch.

No one pays him any mind, just as he figured they wouldn't, and he walks back out of camp without issue. He does feel eyes tracking him, though he ignores it easily enough. The others know if there was a serious issue he'd just tell them most of the time, so whoever it was shouldn't follow him.

Legend pauses beneath the tree, looks up at you, and holds his arms out.

You squeak, a terrified little noise, and Legend huffs. "You'll be fine. I'll catch you." He promises.

You shake your head, tail twitching, and Legend rolls his eyes, "So what? You don't trust me now?"

He watches as you pause, blinking at him. He can almost imagine the offended look you'd have on your face before you jump at him. Legend makes good on his promise, catching the fluff ball you now are.

"See?" He says, crouching to set you in the grass. He digs through his bag, "Told ya I'd catch you."

You shuffle closer, and he absentmindedly pats your head. Pulling out the moon pearl, he sets it in front of you.

In no time at all, you're back in Hylian form, shuddering a bit.

"That was awful," You complain, and Legend snorts.

"Tell me about it."

Your eyes narrow a bit, amusement growing and slowly lessening the quiet unease clear on your face, "Pink bunny?" You tease.

Legend's face flames and he gently shoves you, "Oh, shut it. Let's go tell everyone to avoid over there since there's dark magic over there."

Your quiet laughter threatens to make a smile appear on his own cheeks as you two make quick work of ducking back into camp to tell the others.

----

The next time you end up as a bunny, Legend doesn't laugh at you as much and you don't panic as much either. He's grateful for that at least.

On the plus side, the two of you have been separated from the others in Legend's own Hyrule, so Legend's a lot more comfortable fucking around and helping you figure some stuff out.

You are, also, much more comfortable it seems the second time around. That's even more relieving to see, if he's being honest. He hates how much your anxiety affects him and causes him anxiety, but it's not too surprising. Despite his claims, he really is awfully empathetic and he cares a lot.

...Anyway, once making sure that everything was a-okay, he's tossing a moon pearl in your general direction.

The silence is loud, before a little squeak makes him look over at you properly. You shake your head, and Legend frowns a bit.

"What do you mean no? You've gotta turn back."

You nod, but then shake your head, leaving Legend all the more confused.

Huffing, he walks over and crouches down in front of you, "Okay, listen here," He says, flicking your forehead as gently as he could, "You can't stay as a bunny, weirdo."

You squeak, loud and followed by a few more little sounds, sounding angry. He laughs a bit, finding himself endlessly amused.

You hop over to an area that had more dirt than grass, and started drawing what he could recognize as a clock. He frowns as he watches you circle a time and tap your foot.

"...So, that's now?" He asks, and you nod before drawing a line inside the clock along the curvature of it. You tapped that part of the clock.

Legend frowns, trying to figure this out. It'd be easier if you were human, but you aren't.

"...Later?" He asks with a frown, that quickly deepens when you nod, "You want to turn back later?" You nod again, and hop over to him.

Legend scowls, "No way, I'm no-" You cut him off by jumping up at him. It wasn't like you were heavy, you were a bunny, but it did catch him off guard and result in him sitting on the ground holding you up.

"Why?"

You look over at the clock you drew, and Legend scowls, "You'll tell me later, then?"

You nod, and he sighs, setting you down. You twitch a bit, sitting back on your hind legs. You mime digging, and Legend has a general idea of what you're getting at.

He stands up, scooping you up as he goes, and walks into the woods. They were safe, he knew that much, which is really all he needed at the moment. Setting you down, Legend hesitates a moment before sighing.

"Okay, so, you wanna dig, right?" He asks, humming at your nod. "You should be okay to start digging here," He explains, before his cheeks flush a bit and he sighs, "I.. well, it'll probably turn into you wanting to dig out a full den, so we'll be here a while."

You tilt your head at him, and a small smile appears on his face at the cute action. "I did it one of the first times I ended up as a rabbit." He explains simply, before leaning against a tree.

--

He doesn't know when he fell asleep, but he isn't upset about it. Legend didn't have any dreams, thankfully, so it was a peaceful little nap.

He comes face to face with a dirt covered bunny, curled up on his lap. He laughs quietly, and it seems to startle you, because the next thing he knows you're jumping off of him. Your eyes are wide as you blink up at him, and Legend laughs louder this time.

You don't seem bothered by this at all, and instead start jumping around him. He rolls his eyes, groaning as he pulls himself to stand up. You're clearly in an energetic mood, hopping ahead before zig zagging a bit so he can catch up without having to run.

How considerate, he thinks, amused.

Legend catches up, and then blinks as you kick yourself forward quickly towards him. You pause afterwards, blinking, and Legend's smile isn't able to be contained, amused and teasing.

He crouches in front of you, back yelling at him, though he ignores that. "Awh, you're so happy," He says, half teasing but entirely amused. Thrilled, one might even say. Legend's hand pick you up gently, and he's (for once) not at all ashamed to admit he's just cuddling you close.

You squirm a bit after a moment, and he sets you down again. You stand on your hind legs for half a second to make a vague gesture at his hip, and he understands immediately.

Legend takes out the moon pearl, dropping it down for you to grab, and then watches as Hylian you makes a reappearance.

His shit eating smile doesn't fade, only growing a bit brighter at the red on the tips of your ears.

I really did enjoy writing this, so again thank you for requesting this! I envision any future stunts pulled as a bunny for either of you include plenty of obligatory snuggles before you help the other turn back.

was half tempted to make legend a bunny for the second half there, but if i did that i wouldve struggled to find an ending point, i wont lie, so </3

(if youre wondering what the jump was, according to my rabbit/bunny obsessed friend: "buns do this specific jump when theyre really happy, here look! it's called a binky!" and then she showed me this video. is it true? idk, but it got used here, shrug)

hope you enjoyed!! <3

[notapradagurl7]

90s method man fic ? i see you write about him currently but i want one from like 95 😩😩 pleaseee

Love To Give.

Black!OC!plus size X Method Man

Summary: You were supposed go out with your friends to movies when in reality you bump into a familiar rapper, leading to something more.

Warnings: smut, praise, fluff, oral(fem receiving) fingering, tiny sexual innuendo, strangers to friends to lovers, consensual for both parties, counter sex, kinda messy sex.

Taglist: @mermaidchansons @megamindsecretlair @mymindisneverhere

@mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert

@5starr-staciii

@lady-olive-oil @23jammy @zillasvilla

@yassbishimvintage

@musicisme333

@chaoticcoffeequeen @saturnville

@enchantedillumination @kaylalb @mogul93

@theereina @uzumaki-rebellion @blyffe @fakxmbj @kumkaniudaku @ranikyani

@mama-2001

@ororosdaughter @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house

@miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest-

@tforpresz

@uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn

@secretlifeoofmarpessa @planetblaque @hxneyclouds @henneseyhoe @catxo @brattyfics @cocooned-butterfly @charismablu

                     ——

            (1995.)

She strolled down the grey sidewalk towards the towering dust-colored building, her jet-black heel sandals clicked with each step. Above her head, the blue sky was adorned with cirrus clouds, while her brown pupils were fixed on her friend, who she had finally convinced to hang out with her today after her mom's hesitant approval.

As she walked, her ears were greeted with the rhythmic sounds of Big L, A Tribe Called Quest, Biggie Smalls, Jay-Z, MC Lyte, Queen Latifah, Nas, and Wu-Tang Clan. The music was emanating from a boom box held by a young brown-skinned male sitting on a dark green bench. He bopped his head to the beats, lost in the music.

Lisa wandered the streets of New York, she scanned the bustling crowds for her friend. The warm sun beat down on her shoulders, making her thankful for the light fabric of her sundress. Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out, "Lisa!!!" Imani's beaming face greeted her, arms spread wide in greeting. She looked stunning in her form-fitting pink sundress, which accentuated her curves. "Are you all set to go?" Imani asked with a raised eyebrow, ready for their plans to unfold.

"Yes, I have everything I need, Lisa waved her off, with a nod and the two friends continued their stroll, exchanging smiles. They were almost at the street that led to the bodega when Lisa accidentally bumped into someone. Imani halted and spoke up, "Lisa, I need to grab something for the movie." She paused as she realized that her friend had bumped into someone.

Startled by the sudden interruption, Lisa's gaze was immediately drawn to the towering figure before her. His baggy dark blue denim jeans, grey tee shirt, well-trimmed beard, and deep brown eyes made for a striking combination. Before she could even apologize, the person spoke up with a raspy, masculine tone and a New York accent. "My bad shorty, I didn't look where I was goin'."

Imani's hands flew to her mouth as she exclaimed, "No way, you're Method Man!" Lisa blushed, feeling nervous as she introduced herself. "Um, hi, I'm Lisa."

Clifford asked if they were busy, adding, "My bad, I don't want to interrupt your plans with your friend." Both women shook their heads, indicating they had no plans.

"I was planning on hanging with my friend but I think I might cancel them." Lisa replied flirtily, her pearly whites sunk underneath her bottom fully glossed lips.

"For Method Man, girl? But We—" Lisa suddenly hushed her with her palm. Rolling her eyes, Lisa groaned and chimed in, "We have no plans, right?" She giggled, but Imani wasn't amused. Swatting her friend's arm, Lisa smacked her lips in response. "You owe me," she grumbled.

Trying to make it up to her friend, Lisa whispered, "Don't worry, Mani. We can hang out next weekend. I got you." She reassured Imani that they would spend time together soon.

As Lisa and Clifford collided, a spark ignited, and their connection grew stronger every day. They spent countless hours chatting face-to-face and on the phone, even causing her mother's phone bill to skyrocket. After meeting her mother, they started dating and discovering each other's passions.

Lisa's cozy apartment had a medium-sized living room, furnished with a sleek black suede couch where Clifford flipped through channels with his jet-black remote. The room was painted a calming light green, creating a serene atmosphere.

Lisa finished cooking as she placed the food in Tupperware containers for Clifford and her to eat, the tip of his tongue ran across his shut lips from the tangy scent of the food and the curves on her body. Clifford stepped off the couch and strolled into the kitchen, a grin plastered on his face.

Clifford's lips curled into a smirk as he let out a seductive plea, "Baby I'm hungry, come over here quick." she spun around and gestured to the food containers.

Lisa responded with a playful roll of her eyes. "Boy, I already cooked the food," she replied, before Clifford pulled her into him, planting kisses on her lips, cheeks, and the pudge on her stomach twice. His hands cupped her face tenderly to make her gaze into his eyes.

"I ain't talkin' about the food yo."

Lisa's bare back pressed firmly against the luxurious black suede couch cushions, her legs extended upwards and resting on Clifford's muscular shoulders. His arms were locked underneath her thighs as he buried his face in between her thick legs, his tongue flicking over her throbbing clit. As he continued to pleasure her, his slender fingers slid in and out of her wet core, causing Lisa to cry out in ecstasy.

"Shit! Clifford!" she screamed, her legs clamping around his face as he moaned in appreciation of her sensitive pussy. Removing his fingers, Clifford replaced them with his tongue, teasing her with his lips and working his way up and down her sensitive folds. Lisa reached down and tangled her fingers in Clifford's hair, pulling him deeper into her as he continued to pleasure her in all the right ways.

Her fingertips dug deep into the back of his neck, leaving scratches in her trail as his raspy, low groans filled her wet folds. His fingers were soon replaced with his lips, and Cliff murmured in delight, "You taste so fuckin' good, baby." His head swayed messily from side to side as he lapped up her love juices that trickled down his jawline, hungrily savoring her like it was his last meal. He loved every sound she made, every expression of pleasure, and her moans only grew louder as he pleasured her.

With his slender fingers slipping back into the wetness between her thighs, Clifford used his left hand to knead her erect nipple. Her eyes fluttered back as he curled his fingers at just the right spot, making her walls clench and her hips grind against his digits. "You're so wet for me," he whispered, relishing in the pleasure he was giving her. Lisa couldn't contain herself, chanting "Oh shittt!" as the pleasure overflowed through her body, sending chills down her spine.

Her legs were sore and twitching in her lover's grasp, unprepared for the knot that suddenly curled up in her stomach. Her juices splattered onto his face, but Clifford quickly cleaned up the mess with a paper towel. Smirking at her dazed look, he knew he had just given her an unforgettable experience.

She playfully pecked his lips twice and added a sly grin. "How about I make you breakfast tomorrow?" He hummed, her hands gently resting on his shoulders. "Oh, I like the sound of that," she chuckled, his arms snaking around her waist, his lips brushing against her ear.

She blushed, feeling his palm roughly smack her plump ass causing a squeal to escape her lips. "Not now, my legs are sore," she whined, pouting at him. He pulled back and cupped her face, pecking her forehead. "I'll draw you a hot bubble bath, shorty," he added, seeing her blush shyly. As he sauntered into the bathroom, she couldn't help but feel grateful for such a loving partner.

—————-

[gwynrieldreams]

"Most people don't care about the bonus chapter because it wasn't even in the book they read."

"But the priestesses stepped into the sunlight, the open air...The priestess had been pretty in the library, but with that joy, that confidence as she aimed for the three priestesses, she had emerged into a beauty to rival Merrill or Mor." -> Gwyn's true beauty shines when she's under the sunlight, exactly like the necklace. She's also compared to Mor, Azriel's crush. Interesting choice 🤔

"Gwyn had been distracted today—one eye on the other side of the ring. Cassian could only assume she was watching his brother, who had given Gwyn a small smile of greeting upon arrival. Gwyn hadn’t returned it."

"She’d said nothing about it during the lesson. Only glanced every now and then toward Az."-> Glances

"Gwyn let out a high-pitched noise that was nothing but pure excitement. Azriel, on the other side of the ring with the rest of the priestesses, half-turned at the sound, brows high."-> Glances

"He nodded to Gwyn and Emerie, the former glancing toward Azriel, who watched in silence."-> Glances

"Gwyn again glanced to Azriel, who drifted closer."-> Too many glances

"Apparently, Gwyn wanted him to go over dagger handling."-> Why specify Gwyn? Why not Emerie? Why not one of the priestesses who were actually trained by Azriel?

"Nesta refrained from snickering and selected colors for Gwyn: blue, white, and teal."-> Weird because Nesta had crimson, Cassian's colour.

"Cassian glanced over at Az, but his attention was fixed on the young priestess, admiration and quiet encouragement shining from his face."-> He taught her that.

"Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “What do we get if we finish the course?” Az’s shadows danced around him."-> His shadows dancing? Weird because his shadows have never danced before for anyone else. Wait- his shadows danced at her bright teal eyes??! Where have I read that before? Oh, yes! In the bonus chapter Azriel thinks how her teal eyes might light upon seeing his present and he buries the image down deep where it glows quietly.

"Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. “See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,” she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement."

“You have no idea what you just started,” she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. “Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?” Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. “You’re the new ribbon, Az.” -> Azriel is Gwyn's new ribbon? Weird choice of words. Ribbon as in the mating bond ritual?!

"Roslin, Ananke, and Deirdre were close on their heels, propelling Gwyn to push her group harder. She wanted to be the first. Wanted Nesta and Emerie and her to be the ones who wiped the smirks from Azriel’s and Cassian’s faces. Especially Azriel’s."

"And when Gwyn reached the finish line, bloody and panting and grinning so wildly her teal eyes glowed like a sunlit sea, she only extended her battered hand to Azriel."

"The shadows deepened around Azriel, his Siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. “You—we—trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It’s all we can do."

"Azriel slaughtered all of them within moments. He didn’t hesitate. But I could barely move, and when I tried to get up … He gave me his cloak and wrapped me in it."-> He gave her his cloak during a traumatic moment, exactly like elucien.

Well, these were in the book. The bonus chapter was just extra confirmation to our suspicions that there's something more between Azriel and Gwyn. Also, it's available online and most acotar fans have already read it.

Let's not forget that the bonus chapter, that e/riels like to dismiss as non canon, includes the almost kiss and the base of their "forbidden romance" plot.

[acknowledge-reigns]

Filthy Little Freaks | Roman Reigns x Black Reader | SMUT! 18+

A/N: I wrote ts so fast 😭 it's gotta be a record. He left me no choice!! Roman, My beloved tribal chief, if you run into this online somewhere.. No you didn't! ☝🏾

Description: Roman teaches Y/N what happens when you tease YTC.

Warnings: Degradation, spanking, honorifics, daddy kink, very rough sex, praise, Dom/sub dynamic, teasing, LOTS of dirty talk, petnames, p in v, what could be considered cnc if ya squint and really look for it, unprotected sex, creampie, love bites.

Taglist: @lov3rla03 @reignseclipse @acute-crashout-jeyuso

18+!! MDNI!!

My masterlist can be found here.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

You and Roman had been in a passionate relationship for a while now, but tonight was different. The tension between you had been building all day, and it had finally reached its boiling point.

You had met up at his place after work, and as soon as the door closed behind you, he had pounced. He had pushed you against the wall, his body pressed tightly against yours, and kissed you with a fierce hunger.

You had teased him all day, sending him scandalous photos while he was out doing various interviews for 2k25.

He had been growing increasingly frustrated and aroused throughout the day, his mind constantly wandering back to the provocative pictures you had sent him. He knew you were doing it on purpose, trying to rile him up and make him lose control. And it had worked. He had tried to focus on his work, but your teasing had distracted him completely. He couldn't stop thinking about you, about how he wanted to have you all to himself. And now he does.

He pulls you away from the wall and leads you to the bedroom, his hand on the small of your back. He shuts the door behind you and turns to face you, a bit of a gleam in his eye.

"Strip," he commands, his voice low and authoritative.

You comply without hesitation, slowly undressing in front of him. You can feel his gaze burning into you as he watches, his eyes raking over your body hungrily.

"That's it, baby," he says, his voice rough with desire. "Let me see you."

Roman watches as you reveal yourself to him, his eyes narrowing slightly. He steps closer to you, his hands on your hips once again.

"You think you can tease your tribal chief all day and get away with it?" he asks, his voice dripping with a mixture of annoyance and arousal. "Dirty girl. Such a filthy little freak.. but I love it." He smirks followed by a sharp smack to your ass.

You gasp as his large hand connects with your skin, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. He chuckles darkly, enjoying the reaction he's getting from you.

"You like that, don't you?" he says, his grip on your hips tightening. "You like being punished, like being put in your place. Such a submissive little slut for daddy."

He pushes you onto the bed, climbing on top of you and pinning you down with his weight. He straddles your waist, his eyes locked onto yours as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"I'm gon fuck you so hard you can't do anything but acknowledge me, babygirl."

He begins to kiss and bite your neck, leaving a trail of marks along your skin. His hands roam over your body, groping and squeezing as he claims you as his own.

He sits back and looks at you, his expression serious. "Get on your hands and knees," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You obey, rolling over onto your stomach and pushing yourself up onto your hands and knees, presenting yourself to him. You can feel the heat of his gaze, making you shiver with anticipation.

Roman takes a moment to admire the view, running his hands over your ass and thighs. "Good girl," he praises, his voice husky with lust. "Now, you're going to be a good little slut and take whatever I give you, understood?"

You nod, biting your lip in anticipation. He moves behind you, his large hands gripping your hips firmly. You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and it sends a jolt of excitement through you. "Use your words" he scolds.

"Yes, My tribal chief." You responded

With that, having already shed his sweats, red boxers and "ytc" T-shirt, he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes into you slowly, his thick cock stretching you out as he fills you completely.

You moan loudly as he bottoms out inside you, his size overwhelming your senses. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, but quickly picking up speed. He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back, forcing you to arch your back even more.

"You feel so good, baby," he growls, his breath hot against your neck. "So tight and wet for me."

As he continues to pound into you, your body instinctively tries to pull away from him, but his grip on your hair keeps you in place. He notices this and chuckles darkly, clearly enjoying the struggle.

"Oh no you don't," he says, his voice dripping with amusement. "No running. You gon acknowledge me. You gon take this dick. This is what you wanted right? You were home just aching to be used like a good little cocksleeve for your tribal chief."

He pulls out almost completely before slamming back into you with a powerful thrust, causing you to cry out in pleasure. He leans down and whispers in your ear again.

"Such pretty fucking sounds"

He starts to spank you again, each slap punctuated by a deep thrust of his hips. The pain mixes with the pleasure, driving you further into a state of ecstasy. You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your orgasm building rapidly.

Roman can sense that you're about to cum, and he speeds up his pace even more, determined to make you scream his name. He grabs your wrists and pulls your arms behind your back, using them as leverage to pull you back onto his cock.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he asks, his voice strained with his own impending release. "You gonna cum on your tribal chief's dick?"

You can only nod and whimper in response, too lost in the pleasure to form coherent words. He continues to spank you, the stinging pain sending you over the edge. You let out a loud cry as you finally cum, your body shaking uncontrollably as he rides out your orgasm.

He follows closely behind you, his own orgasm crashing over him like a wave. He buries himself deep inside you and groans, his body tensing as he fills you with his hot seed.

He collapses on top of you, both of you panting heavily. He releases your wrists and rolls over onto his back, pulling you with him so that you're lying on his chest.

You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowly return to normal. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he catches his breath.

"You did so good for me, princess," he praises, kissing the top of your head. "So good"

[callmemonster68]

SUNOO - Beyond Appearances ( smut )

You always thought Sunoo was just your gay friend—sweet, trustworthy, harmless. But after a little accident in the bathroom, he started acting different...

Pairing: Sunoo X FemReader (Masterlist)

Genre: Smut

Warning: Contains explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises

Y/N and Sunoo have always been inseparable. He was that friend who broke into your house without warning, stole food from your fridge and threw himself into your bed without ceremony. Your conversations ranged from gossip about each other to spicy details about your crushes – well, your crushes, since Sunoo never seemed very interested in anyone.

Y/N: Don't you have a type? (he asked, throwing a grape in his mouth while the two watched a reality show)

Sunoo: Oh, I don't know. Not a guy interests me that much. (he responded with a shrug, without even taking his eyes off the screen)

For Y/N, this only confirmed what she always knew: Sunoo was gay. After all, he loved skincare, danced to TikTok videos better than anyone and knew how to combine colors like no one else. And, of course, he had never shown interest in any girl.

You were so intimate that he would enter the bathroom while you were brushing your teeth, going through your clothes to help you choose a look and even giving you his opinion on your new lingerie.

Sunoo: This one screams "eat me now" (he said it once, holding up a lacy red ensemble)

Y/N: Exactly what I want it to scream. (replied with a mischievous smile)

They both laughed, as always. No tension, no ulterior motives. Because for Y/N, Sunoo was safe.

Until one day, something changed.

It was a day like any other. Y/N had just gotten out of the shower, the towel stuck to her body as she looked in the mirror, playing with her damp strands.

That's when Sunoo entered the bathroom without warning. As he always did.

Sunoo: Hey, did you see my…

The towel slipped off the instant the door closed behind him.

Time seemed to stop. Y/N stood completely naked in front of him.

Sunoo froze. His wide-eyed gaze swept over her body in an involuntary reflex before he forced himself to look away, turning around with such haste that he banged his elbow on the door.

Sunoo: M-my God! (voice was shaky, breathing was uneven)

Y/N laughed, pulling the towel back leisurely, completely comfortable.

Y/N: Oh, Sunoo, there's no need to despair (he joked) That doesn't even interest you.

Silence.

She expected him to respond with a mocking comment, something like "of course not, darling" or "please, I've seen better bodies." But he didn't say anything.

Y/N frowned.

Y/N: Sunoo?

He was still on his back, his shoulders tense, his breathing a little too heavy. When he finally turned to face her, there was something different in his dark eyes.

Something that has never been there before.

The bathroom incident should have been just that: an accident. But after that day, Sunoo started acting... strange.

Nothing blatant, nothing too obvious. But Y/N knew him too well not to notice.

Before, he plopped down on the sofa next to her without ceremony. Now, there was a subtle hesitation before sitting down, as if he was too aware of the closeness between the two.

Before, he helped her choose clothes without blinking. Now I avoided looking at her for too long when she asked, "Is that dress too short?"

Before, he joked about his encounters, his experiences, his adventures. Now he was silent when she talked about other guys.

But it was when Y/N started to tease him that the reactions became more interesting.

One night, while packing her clothes to go out, she changed into a skintight dress and turned to him with a mischievous smile.

Y/N: And then? Too vulgar? (he asked, turning on his heel)

It was an old game. Sunoo always gave a sharp comment, sometimes exaggerated, sometimes dramatic.

But this time, instead of rolling his eyes and joking, he blinked slowly, as if he was having a thought he shouldn't have.

Sunoo: It's… beautiful.

The tone of voice was not mocking. It was low. Serious. As if he had forgotten for a second that he was "just a friend."

Y/N raised her eyebrow, crossing her arms.

Y/N: Just pretty?

He licked his lips, looked away, and for a split second he looked uncomfortable.

Sunoo: What do you want me to say? (he retorted) That you look hot?

It was an ironic comment, but the problem wasn't what he said. That's the way he said it.

As if he was thinking about it.

The silence that followed was longer than it should have been.

Sunoo cleared his throat and stood up too quickly.

Sunoo: I'll get some water (he said, disappearing from the room before she could question anything else)

Y/N stood there, feeling the energy in the air.

Something was different.

And she wanted to know exactly what it was.

Y/N noticed the changes in Sunoo, but in her head, there was only one explanation: he must be going through something. Maybe he was confused, maybe he was dealing with insecurities, or maybe… he was discovering himself in a way that she didn't yet understand.

But that didn't mean she wasn't going to have some fun.

So he started testing.

Nothing too obvious. Just little teases.

Like when they were watching a movie together, and she decided to lie on his lap instead of the couch. Normally, Sunoo would absentmindedly run his fingers through her hair, comfortable in their intimacy. But this time, he was tense. Hands still, rigid at his sides.

Y/N: You're feeling strangely stuck today. (he joked, looking up)

Sunoo forced a laugh.

Sunoo: I'm just tired.

Liar.

And she started noticing more signs.

The next day, Y/N wore a tight crop top and short shorts while putting on makeup. Sunoo was lying on her bed, on his cell phone, as usual.

Or at least that's what she thought.

When she turned to pick up some lipstick, she caught him looking at the reflection in the mirror.

It was fast. But it was enough.

She smiled, having fun.

Y/N: Help me choose the color? Red or nude?

Sunoo looked away too quickly, picking up the first lipstick without even looking.

Sunoo: Whatever.

Y/N to them.

Y/N: Since when do you have no opinion on makeup?

He pursed his lips.

Sunoo: Since you started interrogating me for everything.

Y/N narrowed her eyes, moving closer and crossing her arms.

Y/N: Are you hiding something from me?

Sunoo: For God's sake, Y/N.

She laughed, tossing the lipstick aside and turning back to the mirror.

She still thought he was gay.

She just didn't realize that he was making everything more and more difficult for him.

Sunoo was acting strange.

Not the way he used to, when he just hesitated or was uncomfortable with some situations. Now, he was actually avoiding Y/N.

The answers were short. Messages took longer to be responded to. When she asked him out, he made excuses.

And Y/N started to feel uncomfortable.

On Wednesday night, she was sitting at a bar, tapping the end of her straw against her glass as she vented to Jake, the only mutual friend they had.

Y/N: He's avoiding me. (she mumbled, throwing her head back)

Jake arched his eyebrow.

Jake: Are you sure?

Y/N: Yes! Before, was acting strange. Now he practically runs away from me!

Jake took a sip of his beer and frowned.

Jake: Did you do something?

Y/N: No! I just... (she stopped, biting her lip) Okay, I kind of started testing him.

Jake: Test?

Y/N: Yes. Like… he was all weird after that day in the bathroom.

Jake: What day in the bathroom?

Y/N sighed and told everything. About how Sunoo had seen her naked by accident, how he reacted differently, and how he had since seemed uncomfortable around her.

Y/N: But he's gay, so it doesn't make sense! (she concluded, exasperated)

Jake was silent for a moment, just looking at her.

And then he asked, calmly:

Jake: Y/N… did he ever say he was gay?

She blinked.

Y/N: What?

Jake: Did he ever tell you that? Or did you just… assume?

She opened her mouth to respond, but no response came.

Because, for the first time, doubt arose.

Y/N always assumed Sunoo was gay. For the cute clothes, for the sharp personality, for the extravagant manner. He never talked about liking women, so she just concluded that he didn't.

But…

She never asked.

Jake laughed softly when he saw her expression change.

Jake: Guess you have some conversations to have, huh?

Y/N spent the next two days mulling over the conversation with Jake.

She tried to recall a time when Sunoo had confirmed that he was gay. Some conversation, some sentence, anything. But all he found were his own conclusions.

And now he was running away from her.

If before she just wanted to tease him for fun, now it was a test by fire.

And she wanted answers.

So, that Friday, she decided to take action.

Sunoo was sitting alone in the college library, concentrating on his notebook, as if he was trying to become invisible. It was ridiculous.

Y/N approached silently, sliding into the chair next to him as if nothing was happening.

Y/N: Hi, missing (he hummed, resting his chin in his hand)

Sunoo tensed his shoulders, but didn't look at her.

Sunoo: Hi.

The coldness in his voice only made Y/N smile even more.

Y/N: Are you avoiding me?

Sunoo: No.

She laughed.

Y/N: So that means if I do this...(she ran her fingers down his arm, very slowly, as if she were distracted) You won't freak out?

Sunoo froze.

And that's when she realized.

He didn't move away.

But he didn't look at her either.

Interesting.

Y/N: It's getting hot in here, right? (she commented innocently, pulling her own coat and leaving her shoulders exposed. Then, she leaned closer, right next to his ear) Or is it just me?

Sunoo took a deep breath.

Sunoo: Y/N…

Y/N: What happened? (she whispered, making her voice purposefully sweet)

He clenched his fists.

Sunoo: You need to stop.

She pulled away a little, blinking her eyes with false innocence.

Y/N: Stop what? We've always been like this, Sunoo. You always let me touch you. Never bothered.

Sunoo finally looked at her.

And it was there, in that dark look filled with something that Y/N still didn't fully understand, that she felt like maybe she was playing with fire.

But did that make her want to stop?

Not at all.

Y/N: Come to my house for dinner today (suggested casually, leaning over to pick up her cell phone on the table, but purposely leaving her cleavage visible for a second longer)

Sunoo looked away so quickly he almost broke his neck.

Sunoo: I can't (he muttered, closing the notebook suddenly)

She laughed, tossing her hair back.

Y/N: Oh, yes you can. You always can. It's going to look weird if you start saying no now.

Sunoo clenched his jaw.

Y/N noticed.

She also noticed when he sighed in defeat and nodded, somewhat reluctantly.

Sunoo: It's OK.

That's how, a few hours later, they were in her apartment. As they have always been so many times before.

But nothing was the same as before.

Sunoo knew this. Y/N knew that.

She prepared a simple dinner as usual. But as he stirred the food in the pan, he made sure to do everything at the slowest pace possible, his hip movements exaggeratedly lazy, knowing that Sunoo was there, sitting at the counter, watching.

He didn't speak. He just stood there, touching his own glass, without looking at her directly.

Y/N smiled to herself.

After dinner, they plopped down on the couch to watch a movie, like they always did. But now she wanted to test it a little more.

So, instead of sitting in the opposite corner like Sunoo clearly wanted, Y/N lay down on the couch, with her head resting on his lap.

It was there that she felt it.

Sunoo's breathing became slower, almost heavy.

He was tense again.

Y/N closed her eyes and sighed.

Y/N: I love that we have this freedom (mumbled) It's so good to have a friend who will never look at me any other way.

Sunoo swallowed.

She noticed.

And smiled.

Y/N: Like, I can lay on your lap like this and it will never mean anything. (she continued, stretching a little more, feeling his body lock under her)

Nothing. He didn't say anything.

She bit her lip.

Y/N: That's why I always knew you were gay (said, without filter) You never looked at me differently. It was never dull. You never bothered with me around.

Now he moved.

Sunoo slid a little on the couch, as if trying to create a distance that simply didn't exist.

Sunoo: I'm going to get water (he said suddenly, pushing her away with a sudden movement and practically fleeing to the kitchen)

Y/N laughed softly.

She was sure now.

And she wasn't going to stop until he broke it completely.

Sunoo didn't return to the sofa.

After getting the water, he stayed in the kitchen for too long, leaning against the sink, with his back to the living room, as if he needed to catch his breath.

Y/N took advantage.

She stood up silently, walking over to him.

Y/N: Sunoo...(called softly, stopping right behind him)

He remained motionless.

She smiled.

Y/N: What happened? (she teased, dragging her fingers down his spine, lightly, only to see his body stiffen) Why are you so nervous lately?

Sunoo: I'm not nervous.

Y/N: No? So look at me.

Silence.

Sunoo didn't turn around.

And Y/N took advantage of that.

She moved even closer, pressing her body to his, her arms slipping around his waist as if it were something innocent.

Y/N: You look weird, you know that? (she whispered close to his ear) Before, you didn't care about anything I did. Now it seems like he can barely stand near me.

She felt him hold his breath.

Y/N: Why are you running away?

Nothing.

Sunoo looked like a statue, holding onto the counter as if his life depended on it.

Y/N smiled against his skin and raised her hands a little higher, running her fingers over the lower part of her belly.

Y/N: That doesn't interest you, remember? (she whispered, cruelly reminding him of what she had said that day in the bathroom)

And that's when it happened.

Too fast.

Too brutal.

Sunoo suddenly turned around, catching her by surprise, holding her by the wrists and pinning her against the kitchen counter.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat.

His eyes were different.

Dark.

Sunoo: Stop (he growled, but his voice sounded anything but firm)

Y/N looked at him, at his heavy breathing, at the grip on his wrists.

And then she smiled, mischievously.

Y/N: Or what?

Sunoo closed his eyes tightly, as if he was fighting an internal war.

Y/N licked her lips.

She didn't know if he would finally give in or if he would run again.

But now, anyway…

She knew he wanted it.

Sunoo was still holding her wrists. Strong but hesitant.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on hers as if trying to find a way out.

Y/N noticed this.

And he decided he wouldn't let him get away.

Y/N: What happened? (she whispered, her voice oozing venom and sweetness at the same time)

Sunoo didn't respond.

Then she leaned in a little more, touching her nose to his chin, feeling his warm breath against her skin.

Y/N: You're holding me like you're going to do something (he continued, his eyes shining with provocation) But I know you won't.

His grip faltered for a second.

And that's when Y/N decided to end him once and for all.

She moved her hips slightly, the touch almost imperceptible, but enough for him to feel it.

Sunoo held her breath.

She smiled.

Y/N: None of that interests you, right?

It was the last straw.

In an instant, he let go of her wrists.

In the next second, he grabbed her waist and pushed her sharply, placing her against the kitchen counter.

Y/N barely had time to react.

Sunoo moved closer to her even closer, his fingers digging into her skin, and when he looked at her this time, there was no more hesitation.

Sunoo: Shut up.

His voice sounded hoarser than ever, as if he had ripped something inside him.

Y/N's eyes lit up.

She licked her lips, sliding her hands slowly down his chest, feeling every tense muscle beneath her fingers.

Y/N: Are you going to shut me up? (provoked, defiant)

Sunoo took a deep breath, holding her face with both hands.

Y/N felt his breath tremble against her mouth.

And then…

He gave in.

The kiss was fierce.

Hunger contained. Anger. Lust. Everything mixed into a burning contact.

Y/N grabbed his hair, pulling hard, and that's how it felt: the shiver running through Sunoo's body, the muffled moan against his lips, the way he gave himself as if he were hungry.

He was lost.

And she finally got what she wanted.

But now…

Now, she wanted more.

The kiss was still burning on Y/N's lips when Sunoo pulled away abruptly, her eyes wide as if she had just committed a crime.

Sunoo: Shit... (he whispered, putting a hand to his mouth, as if to erase what just happened)

Y/N watched as he took a step back.

And I knew right away that he was going to run away.

But this time, she wasn't going to let him.

Before he could move any further, Y/N grabbed his wrist and pulled him back closer, forcing him to face her.

Y/N: Where do you think you're going? (he asked, his voice calm but sharp)

Sunoo swallowed hard, looking away.

Sunoo: That was a mistake… (mumbled)

Y/N laughed, sarcastically.

Y/N: A mistake? So tell me why you're shaking.

He didn't respond.

She tightened her grip on his wrist.

Y/N: Answer me, Sunoo.

He closed his eyes tightly, his shoulders tensed, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Sunoo: I don't... I can't do this to you.

Y/N: Do what? Want me?

He clenched his jaw.

Y/N: Don't you want me?

Silence.

Sunoo didn't deny it.

And Y/N noticed.

She let out a low laugh, pulling him even closer, so close that she felt his breath hitch against her face.

Y/N: So tell me, Sunoo… Why did you let me believe all this time that you were gay?

He remained motionless.

His dark eyes, full of guilt and something else he was trying to hide.

Y/N: Say.

He closed his hands into fists.

Sunoo: Because it was easier that way.

Y/N frowned.

Y/N: What do you mean?

Sunoo took a deep breath, her lips trembling before finally releasing the words:

Sunoo: Because I always wanted you. From the beginning.

Y/N felt her heart race.

But Sunoo didn't stop.

Sunoo: But I knew I would never have a chance. You always saw me as your gay friend, your harmless best friend. If I tried anything, you would push me away. So I let you believe that.

The confession fell heavily between the two.

Sunoo looked exhausted, as if he had just been stripped of a secret that had been consuming him for years.

Y/N bit her lip, feeling a wave of excitement and adrenaline course through her body.

Y/N: And now? (she whispered)

Sunoo looked up.

His eyes were wild, but still filled with fear.

Sunoo: Now... (he murmured, his voice hoarse) I can't stop anymore.

Y/N sorriu.

Y/N: Then don't stop.

Sunoo was completely still.

The chest rising and falling quickly, the mouth half-open, the eyes still carrying that internal conflict.

But Y/N didn't want any more conflict.

She wanted him to give in.

She wanted him to beg.

She wanted him to take her without thinking.

And to do that, I needed to push him until there was nothing left but pure desire.

Y/N: You can't stop anymore, can you? (she whispered, her fingers sliding down his chest, feeling the tension pulsing under his skin)

Sunoo didn't respond.

He just swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on her as if he already knew where this was going, but was still trying to fight it.

She smiled.

Slowly, she ran her hands over his shoulders and up to his neck, her fingers lightly playing with the strands of hair on the back of his neck.

Y/N: So don't stop, Sunoo...

He held his breath.

Y/N leaned in more, placing her lips on his jaw, feeling the tremor that ran through her body at the same moment.

Y/N: You've wanted me for so long... (she murmured against his skin, leaving slow kisses along his neck) Why are you still hesitating?

Sunoo's hands went to his waist, squeezing tightly, but he remained still, as if he needed one last push.

Y/N smiled against his skin.

Y/N: Or do you want me to beg?

And then, she slid her leg between his, pressing her body against him, feeling the undeniable proof that he wanted her.

Sunoo let out a muffled moan, his fingers digging deeper into your waist.

Y/N looked up and met his eyes.

They were different.

There was no more hesitation.

Just hungry.

And that's when he finally broke.

In an instant, he grabbed her face and kissed her again, but this time, there was no retreat.

The kiss was wild.

Desperate.

His fingers tightened around her body, pulling her closer, as if he wanted to feel every inch of her pressed against his.

Y/N smiled against his lips.

She won.

And now, Sunoo was completely hers.

Sunoo kissed her as if he were hungry, as if every second he spent holding back now needed to be made up for.

His fingers explored her body without hesitation, and Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine when she realized how strong and firm he held her.

She smiled against his lips, sliding her hands down his chest, pushing him back slightly.

Y/N: Calm down, Sunoo… (she murmured, provocatively, her eyes shining) I thought you were more… sweet.

Sunoo stood still for a second, breathing heavily.

Then he tilted his head, watching her with something different in his eyes.

Something dangerous.

Sunoo: Sweet? (he repeated, a slow, dark smile appearing on his lips)

Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach.

Before she could react, Sunoo grabbed her waist and pulled her tightly, putting their bodies together again.

Sunoo: You spent so long thinking I was safe, harmless... (he whispered, his lips brushing the skin of her neck) But do you know what happens when someone holds back their desire for too long?

He lightly bit the sensitive spot below her ear, making her body shudder.

Sunoo: It explodes.

Y/N barely had time to process the words before she was forcefully spun around and pressed against the wall.

Sunoo held your wrists above your head, his breath hot against your skin.

Sunoo: You teased me for so long, challenged me, tested me... (he laughed quietly, the sound hoarse and sinful) Now you'll have to deal with the consequences.

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but any words died when she felt his teeth dig lightly into her skin, followed by his hot tongue sliding in, soothing the burning.

She gasped, feeling her entire body throb.

Sunoo was different.

He wasn't just her best friend anymore.

He was a man who had been restrained for too long.

And now, finally released, he seemed determined to make her pay for every provocation.

Y/N wanted to test her limits one last time.

Y/N: What if I don't want to deal with the consequences? (she whispered, a defiant smile on her lips)

Sunoo looked up, eyes burning into hers.

He tilted his head, his smile widening.

Sunoo: Oh, you will.

And then, he took her completely.

Sunoo looked at Y/N as if her teasing had ignited something deep within him. There was no longer any hesitation in his eyes. There was no more retreat. Just an insatiable hunger that grew by the second.

In one swift movement, he grabbed the back of her neck, his firm fingers pressing into her skin, and pressed his mouth to hers with a fierce urgency. The kiss was rough, with no room for softness, no chance for resistance. His tongue invaded your mouth with force, as if he was tasting something that should have been his all along.

Y/N tried to maintain control, tried to reverse the situation and provoke him again, but Sunoo didn't give her space. He pressed her against the wall, his firm body pressed against hers, letting her feel every inch of his response to the desire that consumed her.

Sunoo: You wanted to play with me this whole time, didn't you? (he whispered against her lips, his breathing hot and heavy) Now you're going to have to deal with what you've awakened.

Before she could respond, she felt his hands running down her body, without hesitation, without doubt. He held her waist tightly, pulling her closer, making a point of showing that there was no more room for escape. Y/N gasped, feeling her skin crawl under his touch, her mind trying to process what was happening.

Sunoo bit her lower lip before pulling it away slightly and looking at her with a smile filled with something dark.

Sunoo: Still think I'm the same? (he asked, his voice hoarse and low, sending shivers through her body)

Y/N didn't respond. I couldn't. His body was already reacting before he could even form any coherent thoughts.

Sunoo took that as an answer. His lips began to explore her neck, his tongue tracing a warm path to her collarbone. When he sucked on a sensitive spot there, she couldn't contain the low moan that escaped her lips.

He smiled against her skin.

Sunoo: That's it (mumbled) I want to hear more.

His fingers slowly descended, playing with the fabric of her clothes, as if he was testing the limits of her patience. But Y/N knew he wasn't joking. He was in control now.

And her?

She was about to lose hers completely.

Sunoo raised his face, his eyes fixed on hers, waiting for any sign of hesitation. But all he found was pure, uninhibited desire.

Sunoo: Good girl. (he whispered before finally leading them to a path of no return)

With a quick movement, he lifted her and sat her on the kitchen counter, her eyes dark and full of indecent promises. Y/N felt her heart race even more when Sunoo knelt in front of her, holding her thighs and spreading them firmly.

Sunoo: Now, I want to hear you even more (he murmured, his voice low and full of desire)

Without looking away, he pressed his lips against her exposed skin, trailing hot, wet kisses down her thigh until he finally reached her pulsing center. The first touch of his tongue made Y/N arch her back, a broken moan escaping her throat.

Sunoo smiled against his skin, pleased.

Sunoo: That… (he teased) I want your every sound for myself.

And then, without mercy, he took her completely into his mouth, making Y/N hold on to the edge of the counter, her eyes closed, as the intense pleasure consumed her.

When she finally gasped his name in pleading, Sunoo stood up, her eyes burning with lust. He held her waist tightly, turning her and leaning her slightly onto the counter.

Sunoo: You tortured me by telling you about other guys fucking you (he growled, his breathing heavy against your ear) But I'm going to fuck you so good that you'll never crave any other dick than mine again.

Before she could respond, he entered her at once, eliciting a loud moan from her lips. The shock of pleasure made her hold tight to the edge of the counter, her body already surrendered to the intense way he was taking her.

Sunoo held her waist firmly, guiding her movements without any hesitation. Each thrust was raw and deep and possessive, each thrust making it clear that he was leaving his mark on her.

He leaned over her, biting her shoulder and whispering, breathlessly:

Sunoo: I will never again let you doubt what I am capable of doing to you.

Y/N just lost herself completely in the overwhelming pleasure, knowing that after that night, nothing between them would ever be the same.

Sunoo: Look at you (he growled, his fingers squeezing her waist tightly, pulling her against him with each thrust) All wet for me... You like it like that, don't you? Being fucked by me like that?

Y/N could barely formulate a coherent response, only broken moans leaving her lips as pleasure took over every fiber of her body. But Sunoo wasn't satisfied yet.

He slid one of his hands down her body, down to her most sensitive spot, pressing with his thumb as he continued to thrust into her deeply.

Sunoo: I want to see you cum for me (he ordered, his voice full of lust) I want to feel you trembling on my dick while I fuck you so hard that you'll never be able to think about another guy other than me again.

And that's exactly what happened.

Y/N arched her back, a loud moan escaping her lips as her entire body contracted around him, pleasure exploding in overwhelming waves. Sunoo grunted as he felt her response, his own control crumbling as he buried himself into her one last time, panting, overcome with ecstasy.

They lay there, breathing heavily, their bodies still pressed together, their skin hot and damp. Sunoo slid his lips over her shoulder, leaving a possessive kiss before whispering against her skin:

Sunoo: I warned you that I would never let you see me the same way again.

Y/N smiled, still catching her breath, and turned her head to face him, her eyes shining with desire and satisfaction.

Y/N: And I promised myself I would tease you until you lost control.

Sunoo laughed, biting her bottom lip before pulling her into another hot kiss.

Sunoo: Then I hope you're ready to bear the consequences of this.

And he wasn't kidding.

Sunoo picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, throwing her onto the bed effortlessly. The wild gleam in his eyes made it clear that the night was far from over.

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿

[concretejunglefm]

I've been having virgin!Noah thots all week 😩

please please give me your virgin!noah thots. I go between soft and sweet ones but then more perverted, because he can't help himself okay 🫣

He's definitely big on making out when he's with someone, he just loves kissing okay? He loves the way your mouth feels, even if he's a little shy and awkward at first. After you've taught him how to kiss, especially, then he's practically insatiable, he just wants to do it all the time. Is it you? Or is it just how it feels to kiss you? Honestly probably both, because when he's made out with someone before, it's never been like this. As we know from him mentioning the many failed attempts and 'relationships'.

Dry humping too, but without the intention of fucking you. Like he loves how it feels to just rut against you, your pillow, the mattress, whatever you're letting him do it against, even if he's clothed and when it's the opposite of you grinding yourself on him? God he looses it within seconds.

He's such a sucker for the soft intimacy, holding your hair, playing with your hair, the way you lay your head in his lap. He loves to just have you close to him without the pressure that you're going to try and push for more, because maybe he's a little nervous, maybe he's someone who's trying to 'find the right person' or is honestly a little fearful when it comes to the actual act of sex.

NSFW'ish below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

Just because it's a virgin who may be a little intimidated about actual sex doesn't make him any less of a horn dog. He has his own sexually explicit fantasies and maybe one day he confesses them to you while you're making out; you straddling his lap, your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back, forcing him to look at you as he confesses he's always been a secret peeping Tom. There was a neighbor across the street from him who would always keep her curtains open and he knew he shouldn't have been looking, but sometimes she would so obviously undress or strut around naked how was he supposed to ignore that?

It doesn't stop there because he confesses that he has these tendencies with you. He tried not to, tried to be respectful of you. It started out innocently at first, just catching glimpse of you every time you would change in front of him, or maybe bend over in a dress which rose a little too high, but soon it found himself actively secretly watching you when you showered. You always leave the door open a crack, what's the harm? And maybe you always knew, always sensed that you were being watched, it's why you would always use your shower time as your 'unwinding' time. When you ask him if he ever saw you do that, he'll just go all shy and red in the face, and nod. It makes you wonder what else he's done.

It takes a little pressing but you find out he's stolen some of your used underwear, too. It shouldn't surprise you really, but you like that he's been that horned up over you that he'll go to desperate lengths just to have a piece of you.

Just because he hasn't had sex, nor is considering it just yet doesn't mean he isn't willing to try and please you. His fingers certainly have a skill of their own you can utilize, but with how desperate he sounds in his confession regarding your panties (and the numerous depraved things he's done with them after), maybe munch!noah is on the cards first? This is where he confesses to watching porn (a lot and expect him to mention hentai, the little freak I love him), as well as 'practicing' techniques on fruit, because he heard that's how you should do it. Either way, don't expect him to have any skill beyond almost biting you and being a little too hesitant at first until you take control. He likes when you have a hand on the back of his head and start to guide him into it, when you're instructing him where to go and what to do with his mouth and tongue. By the time you actually cum, you're just bucking your hips and grinding against his face but the boy is in heaven. Is this what he's been missing? Now you're never going to get him from between your thighs, because it's all that he's going to be dreaming about.

Speaking of, sometimes he likes to be the one with his head in your lap, your fingers in his hair as he kisses your thigh, sometimes sneaking a kiss against the front of your panties too, because he can, but he does it so shyly, as if he thinks you're going to stop him or tell him off (maybe part of him wants to you).

[theconstantsidekick]

Avengers: Age Of Ultron ft. Static (2) | s.r

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Fluff with hidden angst.

Summary: So apparently everyone and their mother knows that Steve doesn't want to move in with Y/n. She now very desperately needs him to tell her why?

(These scenes incorporate y/n, yet to be codenamed—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Drinking, lot of cursing, mentions of death of parents, past traumas, feelings.

a/n: am I back? maybe. who knows? don't look a gift horse in the mouth, okay? enjoy it while it lasts.

Avengers : Age of Ultron ft. Static (1) | Series Masterlist | The Avengers (ft. Static) | Captain America: The Winter Soldier (ft. Static) | Static Verse Masterlist

“Hey Y/n!” Bruce waves at her over the small scattered crowd. He seems so excited to see her as if they haven’t seen each other in ages. Like they didn’t just come back from a mission they worked on, together. As if they don’t meet every other Tuesday to drink overpriced whiskey and bitch about Tony. Like they don’t have each other on speed dial.

She smiles watching him make his way over to her through the crowd, “Hiya Bruce.”

“Ah shit,” he curses under his breath as his drink sloshes, dripping a little onto his fingers. God Banner, she thinks. Hope the green guy’s not this clumsy. Licking his fingers clean, he looks up at her with a kind smile. “How—how’s it going?”

She thinks for a second or so, “Going as well as things can go once you discover the organization you were working for was secretly infiltrated by Nazis,” she takes a sip of her drink.

“Messy?”

She smiles over the rim of her glass of whiskey before agreeing, “Messy.”

Bruce nods, shifting like he’s trying to settle something in his head. “Yeah, yeah. That makes sense.” He looks around, eyes darting—nervous. Why would he be nervous? “What about—how’s the weather been lately?”

Y/n squints. “In Manhattan? You mean two blocks from where you live?”

The look on the man’s face is proof enough that he realizes he’s been caught.

“I’ve seen you butt naked like 17 times now—”

"That’s on Tony!" Bruce defends immediately. "He kept pretending the stretchable shorts were taking too long!"

She waves him off. "My point is, the time for small talk is far behind us, I can’t even see it in the rear view mirror. Can you just spit it out?”

That seems to shut Bruce up. He clams up. Scratches the back of his head.

She waits.

Until she can’t anymore. “Spit it out, Banner. Ideally before you give yourself a hernia.”

Bruce hesitates for a second before taking a step closer. He looks around in short quick motions, before he leans in and speaks just above a whisper, “I—I heard about the Steve situation…” He shrugs, she stiffens. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

She knew it was coming.It’s been coming at her all fucking night. First Tony and Nat, then Rhodey, Hill and Sam, then Thor, of all people—and now Bruce too? She’s beyond pissed off. "What Steve situation?" she asks, voice deceptively light.

His brows knit together as he straightens, gathering courage “The one whe—where he doesn’t wanna move in with you.” The statement comes out more as a question than an answer.

And just like that, Y/n is going to kill someone. 

“Who the fuck told you that?” She damn near shouts.

Bruce instantly takes a step back. “No one.”

“Banner,” she takes a step forward. “Who the fuck told you that?”

Another step back. “No one.”

A step forward. “Banner.”

The way Bruce physically shrinks, you’d forget he moonlights as the big green raging beast.

“Will you kill the person who told me?” He asks. She knows him well enough by now to know that Bruce is weighing the danger to himself versus whoever the other person is. He’s trying to find the most peaceful way out of the situation.

“Depends on the person,” she answers diplomatically.

Bruce sighs, resigned. “Then you’ll definitely kill him.”

She takes another step forward. Her movements are too quick for Bruce to react to them, outside of his eyes widening at the realization that she’s grabbing the collar of his shirt.

“Spill it. Banner.”

Giving the answer is the only way out of this now. So it falls easily from his lips.

“Steve.”

Alright then. 

Y/n is going to kill Steve Rogers.

She drops Bruce’s collar, fixes his shirt in efficient motions—because she’s not a fucking heathen.

“Thanks, Bruce.” She pecks his cheek before marching straight for the damn Golden Boy.

Steve’s not hard to spot. Not really. Not ever.

Steve Rogers is always the easiest for her to find. While her brother is prone to be found in hidden, forbidden corners, her boyfriend is the exact opposite. Where Tony demands your attention, Steve somehow just attracts it. His presence is strong and constant, and you can feel it even when you don’t see it. Sometimes Y/n thinks she can feel it from across the room on her fingertips. It always feels tangible.

It must have something to do with being the most impressive person in most rooms, especially during the war, she presumes. Back then when super people were few and far between. There was just him. The only successful super soldier. He must have walked into rooms, and respect, attention and curiosity must have followed. She is aware of the fact that Steve, the real one, the one before Captain America, wasn’t used to all the attention. Wasn’t even used to people looking his way. He’d told her on one of their countless shared sleepless nights that he’d never gotten used to the feeling of people making the way for him. He’d never gotten used to leading the way for people either but that somewhat came easier to him than the understanding that his voice carried weight. His opinions held value. His words being heard was so new to the boy from Brooklyn, he’d told her he believed he was never going to get used to it. 

But Y/n didn’t believe him. Not that she thought he was lying. 

No, not lying. She thinks he just hasn’t taken account of how much he’s changed since then. 

Or maybe, she just views him differently because well… You know how things are when you’re in lov—attracted to someone. 

You scan the room for their face the moment you walk in. No matter who you’re talking to, your focus snaps back like a cosmic magnet. When you crack a joke, your first thought is—did they laugh? Because, fuck the rest of the universe, that’s all that matters. Even when they’re across the room, lost in their own chatter, your body just knows where they are, like an invisible tether. And when they’re not even glancing your way—damn, especially then—you’re watching. Because you’re hopelessly, ridiculously, utterly hooked.

Basically what she means is that, Y/n is always watching Steve. 

He seems like he’s gotten more than comfortable making his presence known.

She can see it now as she walks over to Steve as he’s talking to Hill and Rhodey. He’s smiling, the smile he smiles when he’s trying to charm the people around him. It’s different from the one she gets, that one’s shy and reserved. This one—it’s all bright and shiny, just like the Golden boy himself.

“Hey, handsome,” she calls out, sweeter than honey.

Steve’s smile switches instantly at the sound of her voice. He looks at her and she can see his eyes soften. “Hey there, doll.”

“Why the fuck are you going around telling people you don’t wanna fucking move in with me?” 

His smile drops instantly. 

Rhodey and Hill follow suit.

“Let’s move this somewhere private—It seems like my girl’s going to kill me,” Steve offers as an explanation before he gently grabs her hand and begins moving towards the balcony. She follows without any effort from his part. “I’d prefer it if it weren’t all that public. Wouldn’t want our lawyer going to jail,” He calls out over his shoulder as he holds the door open for her to step out.

She does.

Walking over to the railing, she exhales audibly trying to let go of the anger she’s built up over the course of the evening. 

“You alright there, doll?” He asks, his tone too damn sweet.

FUCK!

Focus, Y/n!

“No. No, Steve. Quite the fucking opposite. I’m dead set on the idea of murdering you, I’m sure I can lawyer my way out of jail.” She’s… exhausted.

He finally walks up to her then. Leaning on the rails, he looks at her. “What am I being charged with, Miss Stark?”

“Defamation.”

He smiles then. Fucking charmer. “And how did I defame my girl?”

“You’re going around telling people you don’t want to live with me—which is absolutely fine, by the way. I just want to know why you won’t tell me that to my face?” She’s so curious, some might deem it as desperation. 

His stance changes. He can clearly hear the vulnerability in her voice. “I didn’t say that to your face because it’s not true. I told you. I want to live in Brooklyn, and you want to live in New York. I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re at my place five nights a week, Steve. You think two more will be an imposition?”

He shakes his head, “Doll—”

She’s not in the mood for bullshit. “Steve, I will never ask you to do something that you don’t want to do. If you think moving in together would be a step we’re taking too soon, I understand that. To me life isn’t all that short as people make it out to be.” She can hear a laugh in some corner of her mind. It sounds suspiciously like Tony. “I would never mind taking things slow.”

“It’s not that, Y/n.” His head falls.

“What is it then?” 

“Doll…”

The thing about their relationship is that despite all the affections the two hold for each other, it’s clear—beyond clear that both of them hold secrets they aren’t willing to throw out in the open.

She shakes her head, “Look, Steve… I—I… I understand that this is new for you. I get that. It’s new for me too. I get that it must be scary, but you have to understand that it’s terrifying for me too.”

“Oh come on, Y/n! You flirt like it’s part of your job description and you do it well enough that you should be billing me for it. What do you have to be terrified of?” Steve throws back. He says it casually, or at least tries to. But the way his eyes skirt away from hers, she knows he’s trying to hide what he really feels. However, she doesn’t like the insinuation all the same. 

“What do I—Steve, do you even want this?” 

He straightens at the accusation, all tall, blond and buff. “What makes you think I don’t?”

She tilts her head, takes in the sight of him. The broad shoulders, the cocked brow, the challenge in his eyes, she relishes all of it. It’s hard not to—when it’s him. When it’s Steve. “The same thing that makes you scared,” she answers him with the same resolution. She watches his brow scrunch together slightly, either at being caught or in confusion, she’s not sure. “I know… I know that we don’t talk about it, that there’s this big fat elephant in every single room we share, and we never address it. We should—we really should talk about it, but we don’t…” She clenches her jaw, gathering courage, “I’ve got a bag full of secrets and you want a peak… I can’t particularly blame you for your curiosity, but I’d rather we could just—”

“Just?”

“I just wish we could move past it,” she admits softly.

Steve inhales audibly and slowly. “It’s not that simple, Y/n.”

“It’s not that complicated either, Steve,” she tells him. “I know you don’t trust me—”

“I trust you.”

The way he says it, it compels her to look at him. And when she does, she’s struck hard by the determination in them.

“I trust you,” he reiterates, “with my life.”

“Just not with your heart.” It’s a painful admission, and just as painful an accusation. She can see the hurt in her chest reflected back in his eyes.

“That’s not fair, Y/n,” he says, voice more broken than it has any reason to be. She’s the one who should be hurt, goddamn it.

“Maybe not,” she acquiesces, “but it is true… isn’t it?”

His head falls, he crumbles. He’s ashamed, because she isn’t wrong. She hit the nail on the head, and it seems the head might have been his. She might have been aware of that while striking the hammer, but guilt blooms inside her all the same.

“Look, Y/n—it’s—” His hands run through his hair in frustration, he turns away for a second before he turns back to her. He’s trying to buy time to come up with the right words.

“Not that simple?” She guesses, laughing a hollow laugh. “Then let me simplify this for you—you don’t see a future with me.”

His face morphs instantly to annoyance, “Who told you that? I know for a fact that I never said it, so who did? Huh? Who told you that I don’t?”

“I can see it in your eyes, Rogers,” she admits, words broken, eyes wet. 

“Then look again.” He’s a strong man, that Rogers. His words always carry weight, especially when he wants them too, sometimes even when he doesn’t.

“I’m looking, handsome, and all’s I see is doubt.”

His jaw clenches, his stance changes.

There’s a fight afoot.

Time for talking it out is behind them.

“Just say it, Steve.” She’s not going to like what comes next.

“I don’t know you.”

Yeah, she doesn’t just not like it, she fucking loathes this.

Steve continues, perhaps a little unaware of the damage his words must be inflicting. “I don’t know you. I—I try to look past it, I try to find some comfort in the fact that I know that you hate coffee and bubblegum, that you smoke when you’re worried, that you cry like a baby when watching movies, not because they are sad, but because they are grand. I know that you are sharing as much of yourself as you possibly can, but—” He meets her head on, like he’s going into battle. And who knows? Maybe he is.“But I also know that you wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, scared and terrified. And all I want is to pull into my arms and protect you from whatever you’re afraid of—except I have no fucking clue what that is.” He takes a step towards her, “I—I want to build a life with you, Y/n. I want a future with you.” Motherfucker. “But how the hell am I supposed to do that when I know nothing about your past.”

For anyone paying attention, her heart is breaking into a million pieces right about now.

“You don’t need to know everything about me to know me, Steve. My past—it’s fucking irrelevant.” It’s not the answer he wants, but it’s the only one she has to offer.

“I’m not asking you to tell me every sordid detail about your entire life—I’m just asking for something, anything… Throw me a fucking line, doll. I’m drowning here,” Steve pleads. He actually, well and truly pleads. He’s bordering on begging at this point. “I want this to be more—so much more, but it feels like maybe you don’t. From where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot more like you’re the one who doesn’t want this, instead of the other way round.”

Fucking hell.

Motherfucking, cocksucking hell.

Goddamnit.

She throws him the line.

“I was born in Madripoor.”

“What?” Steve asks, looking absolutely lost.

She gulps down her heart that’s beating at the speed of light and repeats herself, though this time, her voice wavers ever so slightly. “I was born in Madripoor. That’s where I’m from… or was from, before Howard Stark took me in.”

And he takes it in. He takes in this little tiny piece of information like he’s been handed the Holy Chalice. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling too exposed.

“Why do you call him Howard and not—you know—Dad?”

Her arms cross over her chest before she even realizes she’s doing it, as if her body is trying to hold itself together. She shrugs, trying for nonchalance, but it’s a little too rehearsed. “‘Cause I had a dad. And he was nothing like Howard. He was soft spoken and generous when he shouldn’t have been. He had kind eyes, calluses on his palms and he always smelled like tar.” She can’t meet his eyes when she speaks. “I’m not saying he was the exact opposite of Howard… But yeah, I guess that is what I’m saying.” She looks out over the balcony, at the seemingly endless New York skyline. She exhales sharply, her breath shaky, and grips the balcony railing. The cool metal helps ground her. “My dad was my dad. And Howie was Howie. I don’t know if that makes sense to you, and I don’t think I could explain it even if I tried to… Howard was the man who saved me, but that doesn’t mean he gets to replace my dad.”

“What…” 

She can tell what he wants to ask, and she can tell he’s scared to—because he doesn’t want to push. He’s gotten a sliver and he’s afraid he’ll lose it if he asks for more.

She’s already thrown him the rope, why not give it some slack, huh? 

“What happened to him?” She finishes for him, her voice sharper than before. Her eyes are avoiding looking at him like the plague, and yet, she catches him nodding in her peripheral vision.

Y/n’s grip tightens around the railing. Her shoulders lock up, and for a second, she considers not answering.

But it’s Steve—her Steve, so the words tumble out anyway. “He died—or I think he did… Madripoor is a violent place, a pirate island for all the bad guys from your rogues gallery to go and hide out in… A fight broke out between two rival factions and we got caught in the middle of it. He got me to safety, but then went back to see if he could help any other stragglers… I never saw him again.” Her throat feels tight, but she keeps her voice even. Controlled. “I was six years old.”

“And your mom?” His voice is quiet when he speaks again.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Dad used to talk about her like she was an angel. He told me I was two when we lost her,” she answers just as quietly.

“Does that mean…?”

“I don’t know what it means, Steve.” She kicks the ground a little frustrated, at him, but mostly at herself for being able to give out only broken bits of herself to the man she…  “Maybe she died, maybe she was taken… Or maybe it means that she left us, and he just didn't know how to tell that to a little kid asking about her mom.” Her voice is sharper now, meaner, because if she doesn’t lash out, she might actually have to sit with this awful, disgusting feeling crawling under her skin. Her body feels too tight, like she’s trapped in a room with no exits. “It could mean anything.”

“Did you ever look for them?” He asks, taking a step closer to her.

Her grip on the railing tightens. “Have you ever been to Madripoor?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

���But you have heard of it?”

“Yes.”

“Anything good?”

“Not really, no,” he answers, a little defeated.

She snorts. “On average, 23 people go missing from Lowertown alone…” She waits for the fact to register with him. And then she finally turns to him and adds, “Every week.” Steve’s brows fly up in shock. Then she can’t stop herself from smirking at his surprise. “Looking for them—” she shakes her head with a broken smile. “It would be easier to find a singular bullet in a warzone.”

Something shifts between them. Something shifts in him.

“You’re gonna punch me in the face if I ask you anything else, aren’t you?” He asks, but it’s not a question, it’s a statement. She can hear his smile in his words.

Her jaw clenches, and she decides to reply anyway. “There is a distinct possibility of that happening, yes.”

She hears him chuckle softly to her right. “This is really hard for you.”

“It would be easier if I were a little less sober, but… yes. It is.” Finally, letting go of the railing, she pockets her hands. She stands taller. “However, losing you over this—losing you cause I couldn’t do one hard thing, that would be… harder.” She turns to him then, ready and strong. “I don’t think I’d survive it.”

For a second Steve doesn’t move. He doesn’t let the moment dissolve, either. “You’re not losing me, doll. You can’t.” Then, before she can react—before she can think too hard about it—he just hugs her.

She freezes. Body going stiff like she’s just been handed a live grenade.

Part of her is scared of it, part of her hasn’t readjusted to the change in the tone of the conversation. Part of her is screaming at her to put some distance between herself and the man who holds her whole heart in the palm of his hand. Because what if he decides this isn’t enough? She’s… she’s scared. So, she should pull away.

Instead, her hands fist into the back of his shirt and she holds on.

Steve Rogers is built like a damn fortress, all solid muscle and unwavering steadiness. He’s warm, too warm, like he’s been storing up all this body heat just to throw her off. 

Unfair.

They stay like that, longer than she should probably allow.

Then, she hears him exhale against her hair. 

“When I came out of the ocean, I didn’t think this world had anything for me.” His voice is low, warm—dangerous, in the way it makes her chest feel like it’s coming apart at the seams. “I felt out of place, out of time,” he continues, like this is just casual conversation and not the kind of thing that makes her heart kick wildly against her ribs. “I didn’t feel like I belonged here—or anywhere.” She should say something. Deflect, make a joke, give him an easy out. But all she does is breathe. “But you changed that.”

Her throat closes up.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away—if anything, his arms tighten around her. “Doll, you keep me grounded.” His breath is warm against her temple, too close, too much, just enough. “You make me feel like I belong here.”

She hates this. She hates how much she doesn’t hate this.

Steve doesn’t let her slip away into her own head. Instead, he pulls back just enough to look at her—just enough to make sure she’s listening. “You think it’s a coincidence that you’re always in my line of sight in every room I walk into?” he murmurs, like he’s letting her in on a secret he’s been keeping forever.

She blinks up at him, half-annoyed, half-trapped in his gravity. “I mean, yeah? Maybe?”

He just laughs, low and disbelieving, shaking his head. “Doll, you seriously think I just happen to catch your eye from across the bar?” His fingers are still cupping her face, thumbs skimming over her cheek like she’s something fragile. Her pulse trips over itself. “You think I don’t engineer every situation to always be within your earshot?” he goes on, the absolute menace. “To listen to you laugh? To listen to you cuss with that sailor’s mouth?”

Narrowing her eyes at him, “So you’re saying you stalk me?”

Steve grins. “I prefer ‘strategically position myself in your general vicinity.’” Smooth talker. Then, softly—almost reverently—he leans in. “You’re like a hurricane, doll,” he murmurs, voice barely a whisper. “You’re the eye of the storm. I’m caught in your field, and I have no clue how to get out.”

Her fingers tighten around his forearm, her whole body thrumming with the tension between them. “Do you want to?” she asks, her voice quieter now, just for him. “Get out?”

“No, doll. No.” His nose ghosts over hers, his lips just barely grazing hers as he whispers, “I think I’d suffocate if I tried.”

She barely has time to take a breath before his lips finally, finally press against hers. And—god help her—he kisses like he means it. Like he’s been holding back for longer than he can stand. Like she’s the first breath of air after being underwater too long.

She sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the front of his shirt to keep herself grounded. But it’s useless—because everything, everything, is spinning. Or maybe she is. Maybe it’s him. Because Steve Rogers kisses like devotion—like he’s trying to tell her something with every tilt of his mouth, every slow, intentional slide of his lips against hers.

And she gets it.

She gets it in the way his hands cradle her like she’s something precious, something unshakable and breakable all at once. She gets it in the way he sighs into her, relieved, like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole damn life. Her fingers tangle into his hair, yanking him closer, and—god help him—he groans.

That sound. 

That fucking sound.

It’s low and rough and wrecked, like he’s just barely keeping it together. And that? That’s her favorite thing now. So she does it again—tugs a little harder, just to hear it.

Steve grins against her mouth. “You’re a menace,” he mutters, voice warm and wrecked, kissing her deeper like it’s a challenge.

“And you’re—” she inhales sharply as his fingers slip beneath the hem of her backless dress, dragging slow and teasing along her waist.

“What was that, doll?” he asks, his lips brushing hers as he speaks. Smug bastard.

She glares at him, though it loses some weight considering she’s half-dizzy from the way he’s touching her. “I was gonna say, you’re making it real hard to think right now.”

Steve hums, lazy and pleased, his hands still mapping out every inch of skin they can reach. 

She is so incredibly screwed.

“You wanna stop?” he murmurs, lips skimming down her jaw, pressing the softest kiss right below her ear.

And—oh, she fucking hates him.

Because he knows what he’s doing. Knows exactly how her breath stutters, how she grips his shirt tighter, how she’s not pushing him away. Y/n exhales shakily, tilting her head just a little to the side, just enough to let him keep going. “Did I say that?” she breathes.

His answering chuckle is low and rough, and it vibrates against her skin like a goddamn earthquake. “No, doll,” he murmurs, lips brushing right over her pulse. “No, you didn’t.”

Her fingers curl into his hair, holding him there, keeping him close.

This is dangerous.

This is everything.

And fuck if that matters.

She just wants him.

So she tugs him back up to her, kisses him hard, kisses him until he stops teasing, until he stops holding back and just— 

Lets go.

And when he does?

It wrecks her.

Because Steve isn’t careful now. He isn’t measured or hesitant—he’s all in. He kisses her like he’s making up for lost time, like he’s been waiting for this since the moment he met her, and maybe he has.

“God, handsome—” she breathes against his lips, knowing full well what that nickname does to him.

It absolutely undoes him.

Steve groans again, deeper this time, and then—suddenly—her back is against the railing.

She huffs a laugh, breathless, wrecked, fingers dragging down his chest. “Oh, so now you’re impatient?”

Steve just grins, pressing another kiss to her smirking mouth. “Doll, I’m always impatient when it comes to you.”

God bless her, she is half a second away from yanking Steve right back down to her when—

A slow, sarcastic clap rings out behind them.

“Wow,” a familiar voice drawls. “This is adorable. Really. Hallmark should be taking notes. You two got the tension, the longing gazes, the obvious ‘we were just about to make questionable decisions’ body language…” He sighs dramatically. “Chef’s kiss.” He does the fucking action too, the freak.

She doesn’t even jerk away.

No, she closes her eyes. Exhales through her nose. Prays for strength. Then, slowly, very slowly, she pulls back and turns toward the absolute menace standing in the doorway.

And there he is.

Tony Stark. Billionaire. Genius. Her own personal tormentor.

He’s leaning against the doorway, drink in hand, smirking like he just walked in on the biggest scandal of the century.

“Tony.” Her voice is sweet, lethal. “We practically raised each other which means this can’t be a fault in your nurturing, so it has to be a personal failing.”

Tony places a dramatic hand over his heart. “Wow. What a way to greet your only living relative.”

Y/n tilts her head. “Oh, I’m sorry. You want a warm welcome? Here you go.” She flips him off.

Steve makes a choking sound next to her, trying—failing—not to laugh.

“Wow. Harsh.” Tony scrunches his nose in mild disappointment. “Here I am, simply looking for my beloved sister, only to find her engaging in a very public display of affection with none other than Captain America himself.” His head tilts, eyebrows waggling. “Safe to guess, you two kissed and made up?”

Y/n doesn’t miss a beat. “If I were you I’d be a lot less concerned about our relationship and a lot more worried about that balding situation you got going on.”

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, sorry, I mean the graying situation. My bad.”

Steve clears his throat, valiantly trying to fight back a grin.

Tony scoffs. “Okay, first of all, my hair is immaculate. Secondly, that was a cheap shot.”

Y/n shrugs, all innocence. “You were asking for it.”

“Asking for it—?” Tony gestures wildly. “I came out here to bring you two back into the fold, and instead, I’m being attacked.” He turns to Steve, pointing at him accusingly. “You see this? She didn’t give me nearly this much lip before you two became a thing.”

Steve, to his credit, stays neutral. “You did interrupt us, Tony.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Tony puts a hand to his ear. “Did you just say I interrupted something important? Well, that’s just tragic.”

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Did you need something, or did you just come out here to be an Olympic-level pain in my ass?”

Tony gasps. “Language.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Tony points at him. “You don’t get to say anything, Mr. ‘Don’t-Cuss-in-Front-of-Me.’”

She tilts her head to hide her smile. “Seriously, what do you want?”

Tony takes a casual sip of his drink. “Oh, just thought I’d check in. Seeing as, you know, you made a very public proclamation of murdering the Golden Boy here,” he points to Steve with glass in hand. “People inside are wondering if our fearless leader bit the bullet at the hands of our lawyer.” He pauses there and smiles at her. “But I see you lacked the follow through.”

Y/n snorts. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

Tony clicks his tongue, provoking, “You are getting soft.”

She accepts the challenge happily. “Or maybe I’m saving my bloodthirst for the dickhead who’s cockblocking me right now?”

Tony squints. “See, that I believe.”

Steve, ever the mediator, clears his throat. “You said people were wondering where we were?”

“Oh, right.” Tony waves a vague hand. “The party’s still going, people are still drinking, and Clint is still coping with the emotional fallout of being the only guy who didn’t know about the two of you being a thing—blind idiot.” Tony rolls his eyes. “But more importantly—” He straightens, flashing his most obnoxiously confident smirk yet. “I came out here because there is, at this very moment, an ongoing bet about a very important question—” he pauses for dramatic effect, “—who is Y/n Stark’s favorite Avenger?”

Y/n blinks. “You people need day jobs.”

Tony ignores her. “Now, obviously, the answer is me.” He takes a sip of his drink, completely self-assured. “But, for some reason, some people think that might not be the case.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “People bet on that?”

“Oh, yes.” Tony nods. “The stakes are high, Cap. Sam, Hill, Batron, Banner and Thor put down fifty on me, because, obviously, I’m the correct answer. Apart from Rhodey, the rest of them think it’s Capsicle. Which—” He throws a hand in the air, visibly disgusted. “Come on! That’s fucking delusional.”

Steve smirks. “Wow, Tony. That almost hurt.”

Tony waves him off. “Oh, don’t get sensitive on me, Spangles. You’re in second place at best. I mean, let’s be real—she’s not picking you over me.”

Humming, thinking for a long, deliberate second, she responds with, “Huh.”

Tony’s smirk widens. “Huh? Huh? That sounds like an agreement.”

She shrugs at that, noncommittal. “Sounds like a word, Tony.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “No, no, no. I don’t like that answer. I need definitive confirmation that I’m number one.”

Y/n tilts her head, smiling just enough to be dangerous. “Hate to break it to you, Stark, but if you needed confirmation… doesn’t that mean you’re not sure?”

Tony stares at her. Then blinks. Then—

“Oh, that’s dirty.”

It makes her grin, wide and proud.

Steve, who has been watching this like it’s the best show of his life, finally steps in, looking at her with a smug little smile. “You could just tell him, you know.”

She turns to him, giving him an exaggerated look. “And stroke his already overinflated ego? No chance.”

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. “You love messing with him.”

She smirks. “He makes it so easy.”

Tony throws up his hands. “Oh fuck off! It’s bullying like this that made Dad like you more.”

She makes a face. “Howard liked me more only ‘cause I was committing tax fraud for him.”

Steve chokes. “I’m sorry—what?”

Y/n waves a hand. “It’s fine. I fixed it… Mostly.” She shakes her head, “That’s not the point. Point is, don’t use your Dad as a way to get back at me. You know I hate that.”

“Only if you come back in and state for once and for all that I am indeed and in fact your favorite Avenger,” Tony throws back.

She’s caught absolutely fucking off-gard when Steve’s lips brush against her here, voice velvet smooth and painfully sensual, “No chance of it being me, doll?”

Y/n shivers before she can stop herself. Her fingers tighten in his shirt, eyes flicking up to meet his, and—damn him—he looks so unbelievably smug right now. “Wow,” she mutters, half breathless, half impressed. “Using your raw sex appeal to win a bet? That’s shameless, Rogers.”

Steve grins. “Nobody could tell it from all the bickering, but you two are inseparable—I needed an edge.” He places a soft kiss on her temple.

Tony gags loudly. “Oh my god, save it for literally anywhere else. The tension in here is gonna set off the sprinklers and ruin this killer outfit,” he says motioning to his magnificent three piece wine red suit—which she picked, B T dubs.

Fucking narsissit, she thinks to herself. “You love making everything about you.”

Tony smirks. “Well, yeah. I am your favorite.”

Y/n tilts her head. “You think you are.”

Tony narrows his eyes again. “I hate this game.”

“Yet, here you are,” she grins.

Tony exhales dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine. Fine! You win, okay?” He sighs, rubbing his temple like this is physically painful. “I love you, to the moon and back, obviously.”

She smiles.

He groans at her expression, pointing at her. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Laughing she throws back, “Like what?”

“Like I just handed you the emotional equivalent of my bank account.” He shakes his head, muttering, “Unbelievable.” 

She is still smiling when Tony rolls his shoulders, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His voice softens just a fraction. “Now can you please come back inside and grab a drink with me?” He clears his throat, glancing away like this isn’t a big deal. “I have barely seen you outside of missions, and—maybe I miss you, alright?”

And with that, he turns and walks back inside.

Steve watches him go, then sighs. “We should probably head back. I feel like a jerk stealing you away from him.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Steve, we got drunk and worked on his suit two nights ago. He just likes being dramatic.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. 

“What?” She asks, confused.

“Is there anything you can’t do?”

She smiles at him, considering. “As much as I’d like to answer that question with the dirtiest, cheesiest one liners I can think of, we really should go inside—He doesn’t actually say he misses me all that often,” she reasons with him. But before she follows Tony in, she leans in close to Steve, voice soft but teasing. “This isn’t over.”

Steve grins, brushing his knuckles against hers. “Not even close.”

She smiles against his shoulder for half a second, then pulls him toward the party.

Find other static verse works here.  Read The Avengers (ft. Static) here.

i'll tag people later. i'm real tired, it's been a long day. i just wanna get this out and be showered in comments and reblog.

i'm looking at you. yeah you! reblog this with funny tags. do it!

[the0p]

letters

based off of "to all the boys I loved before" cuse YES I AM A LOSER LIKE THAT FIGHT ME. mlm, fluff, and some spice?? very long story also a bit of a size thing going on cuse...yeah.

I sat on the floor of my bedroom writing yet another letter to a guy I had complications feeling towards.

it was a recurring patern in my life as the moment I shared something special with someone instead of telling them my feelings I'd write them down on a piece of paper and trow it in a box I kept under my bed.

it was a bit pathetic for sure, but can you blame me? love has never worked out for me before, so I much rather admire from a distance.

this letter was addressed to a guy in my school.

Jeong Yunho.

back in 6rd grade, me, him, and some other friends had a small party where we played spin the bottle. at the time a friend of mine had a crush on him that I knew about, so I begged for the bottle not to land on him, but of course it did. I was hesitant, but nonetheless, we shared a short, small kiss, which was my first. safe to say me and her are not on good terms even till this day.

the cringe letter was finished, and I folded it up nicely, putting it in an envelope and writing down his name on it before throwing it in the box and sliding it under my bed.

I didn't think much of it knowing they couldn't get out, so I chose to go to bed for the night.

in the morning, I rushed to the kitchen, my sister sitting on the sofa on her phone, ready to go as I ran around looking for my laptop.

"we'll be late, you know." she said, looking at me from the sofa standing up, trowing her bag over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, okay, i just can't find my computer. can you go back to my room and look? maybe I missed it. please?" I asked her with a pleading look, hoping she'd go check, and thankfully, with an annoyed groan, she agreed.

she came back after a few minutes computer in hand. "it was by your bed, clothes trown over it."

"Thank you so much." I said, taking it from her and rushing out the door to my car, her following not too far behind me.

the school day passed by normally. the usual boring classes until lunch period hit.

I never ate in the cafeteria as it was way too crowded for me, so I always camped out in the bathroom eating and scrolling through my phone. sure it wasn't the most sanitary thing to do, but it was quiet.

as I was enjoying my lunch devouring a sandwich I made in a rush I heard the door open a familiar voice coming trough.

"y/n? you in here?" it was yunho. I was confused about why he was looking for me, but I didn't make a sound, wanting him to leave in all honesty. I brought my legs up so he couldn't see which stall I was in, but sadly, my phone fell out of my lap as I did so making a lot of noise.

I knew he heard as he knocked on the door. I didn't answer until he slid my letter under the door.

my heart dropped.

I quickly put my things in my bag, stuffing the sandwich in my mouth, and opened the door.

"how did you get that?" I asked my words a bit muffled thanks to the food.

he stumbled back as I opened the door, putting one hand into his jean pocket.

"I found it in my locker this morning. you didn't put it there?" he asked obviously a but confused.

I was panicking. the thought of him knowing how I felt about him was one of my biggest nightmares. I shook my head, no trying to figure out how he could have gotten it and if any of the other guys got it.

he must have picked up on the panic "your hand writing is nice. I'm actually quite flattered you think of me this way."

his words caught me off guard. was he playing, or was he for real?

"Look, you were never supposed to get it. just forget about it, okay?"

"What if I feel the same way? do I still forget about it?"

I stayed quiet, staring at him, not expecting anything like that to come out of his mouth. he sighed, putting the letter in his bag and turning his attention back to me.

"it's actually a bit funny how you never picked up on any of the signs. I don't just go around the school campus trying to strick up a conversation, give compliments, and try to hang out with random people, but you seem quite obvious."

the last sentence struck a bit of a nerve. "I'm not obviou-"

my words were cut off by a pair of soft lips on mine. I was shocked, eyes wide in surprise, tho slowly I calmed down and returned the kiss my hand making its way to his cheek.

he pulled away first, both of us silent as we registered what we (he) just did.

he opened his mouth to say someone, but the bell rang, signalling us that lunch was over.

I pulled away, clearing my throat, and my ears a bit red from embarrassment.

"Let's talk after school, okay? we can meet you back here...if you want, of course."

he nodded the sweet smile on his face that I always adored. "See you then"

...........time skip............

I stood in the bathroom waiting for him. I was a bit scared he would end up not showing up, but I tried to have a bit of hope. my sister decided to go hang out with her friends after school. I didn't really have anything to rush.

20 minutes had passed, and he was still not here. it was upsetting, but somehow, I wasn't too surprised, so I just chose to leave. I got home relatively late as I had stopped at the store to get some food since our fridge was very empty.

my sister was already home sprawled out on the sofa watching a movie as I placed the bags on the kitchen counter.

"How was school?" I asked, glancing at her. for some reason, she was avoiding all eye contact and seemed a bit on edge.

"it was okay. how about you...?"

"it was...interesting, to say the least." I responded, putting the food away as she nodded and stayed quiet.

Once everything was done, I went into my room and instantly checked the box that I kept my letters in. the rest where there but the one yunho got. I instantly knew my sister must have done it in the morning. I wasn't mad, tho since maybe she even did some good?

I sighed and changed, choosing to put my homework off for a bit and relax for a bit to decompose everything that happened today.

it was calm for a while. silent even. until my sister barged in practically braking my door down as I quickly sat up from my bed worried that something had happened. i looked her way, a mischievous smile on her face as she pushed yunho inside my room.

wait, yunho!?

he stood there an awkward smile on his face as he looked around and back at my sister, who closed the door quickly.

"use protection!!" were her last words before she left us there.

I got up quickly and started picking up my clothes, throwing them in my closet to make the place some what clean.

"Hi yunho, I wasn't really expecting anyone, so it's a bit messy"

he laughed and took off his coat, placing it on my dresser that was by the door looking around the room. "it's okay. I did show up without a warning."

I hummed fixing myself up as well to not look too much of a mess.

"I'm sorry that I didn't show up today. I got held back in class. I promise I didn't do it on purpose."

his words seemed honest, and his face had regret written all over it. he walked closer to me, towering over me thanks to his height.

"I couldn't have even texted you a heads up cuse I don't have your number, and I'm so sorry"

I let him finish staying quiet. I had figured as much cuse he didn't seem like the type of person to do something like that. Once he was done, I just kissed him.

I didn't know I had the guts to do something like that but I was glad I did as he returned the kiss immediately his hands finding their way to my waist as mine wrapped around his neck pulling him down slightly.

it got a bit heated surprisingly enough, which I wasn't expecting.

we had moved to my bed making out. it was obvious to both of us that we've been wanting each other for a very long time as things wouldn't be going this far otherwise.

his hands moved up, and my legs, as I pulled away, taking his shirt off, pulling him back into the kiss, we were both getting desperate, but sadly, we got interrupted by my sister.

she came in, completely ignoring the sight in front of her, and sat down on my bed, throwing her homework next to us.

"help me." is all she said.

me and yunho were both very embarrassed, but nonetheless, we stopped what we were doing and both ended up helping her.