#if you followed the right people of course

[imsofreakingtired]

a fic based on this incorrect quote 💙🦋 thank u @bbybhr for the idea :D

sour grapes

content warning(s): none, just fluff- this is the au where everyone is sane and happy. useless lesbians and their mutual pining. sevika is smart in many ways, but she's kind of an idiot when it comes to her feelings for you.

or, you fell first. sevika fell harder. wc: 3.2k words

"even if i come closer step by step i don't think i could hold your hand the love that sits at the top of the ladder- oh, i don't wanna be the one to get hurt (yeah, you'll hurt me)"

~~~

It’s only midday, but the Last Drop is bustling with activity. Humans, vastayas, even a Yordle here and there chatter over each other, and ribbons of laughter unfurl from their conversations as they call for another drink. 

You stand at the door, rolled papers tucked under your arm, and survey the crowded place. You have a meeting with the owner, Vander, but he’s nowhere to be seen—he could be getting something from the storage room….Or he’s late again from a date with Silco. In short, you’re looking at anything between two minutes and half an hour of waiting. 

Not a problem today. Your next client cancelled their appointment last minute, saving you a trip all the way up to Piltover—so you have luxurious time to spare. You find a small empty table near the corner, where you can sit with your back to the wall and look over nearly the entire bar. Your eyes wander from the aluminum make of the bar counter—that could be rebuilt with steel: more sturdy and much more sightly. You take in the simple design of the tables and chairs. It’s the details that excite you most, more than any wide-scale layout. The smallest touches could transform a room. And the people who frequent it most would feel it. Like magic. 

Gert walks over with your favorite drink. She sets it down in front of you, and the movement startles you out of your reveries. 

“Come here to daydream?” Gert says with a smirk. 

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Ha-ha. Actually, I’m waiting for your boss.” 

“He went out with Silco this morning.” 

“Of course he did.” You sip your drink. “Do you know when he’ll be back?” 

“That’s entirely up to his man.” Gert shrugs. “At least today isn’t as busy as most. You got something to run by him?” 

You pat the papers on the table beside you. “This is where all the magic happens.”  

Gert reaches for the blueprints, but you push them away. “Ah-ah. Don’t wanna ruin the surprise.” 

She shakes her head, gives a mock huff of frustration. “You’re so dramatic. Anyway, you got lucky. You don’t have to wait until Vander comes back—his contractor’s back in town today. You can talk to her. I think she’s here right now.” 

“Contractor?” 

“There she is.” Gert points to a table across the room. You strain to follow her gaze. 

Sitting at a table near the bar, deep in conversation with two companions you don’t recognize, is a short-haired woman you have never seen before. Despite yourself, your breath catches in your throat. 

No shit, the woman is attractive—broad shoulders, sharp face, bold features. You can see that from a mile away. But there is also an energy that ripples from her, a quiet authority and warmth that you can’t drag your eyes away from. Even looking at her from this distance, you can feel the intensity of her gaze, the concentration with which she listens to people. And her companions in turn listen to her. You can see it in the way they become respectfully still when she speaks, the way they lean slightly closer to her. 

You aren’t normally intimidated by people. You’ve worked in the interior design business long enough to meet all sorts of clients, and you’d grown pretty confident that you can handle anything. But this woman… 

“What’s her name?” you ask Gert, still staring. 

“Sevika. You just gonna ogle her all day, or are you gonna get on with your job?” 

You swat at her arm. Laughing, she goes away to take another order. 

Now you’re left with nothing simpler to do than to approach this unbelievably handsome woman. 

Sure, you think. No problem. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“...So I’m sayin’ to this sucker, ‘no, I think you have the wrong idea, bub, because I’m certain that I paid back the debt in full last week.” Huck wriggles forward in his seat, hands flying to emphasize his point. “Am I the idiot here or was I being conned?” 

“You need to keep the records,” Sevika says. “How many times do I have to tell you?” A half-smile plays  on her lips. Huck had the same problem to gripe about every damn time he came to the Last Drop. 

“I do keep the records,” he protests. “They keep disappearin’ on me. I think I’m bein’ robbed.” 

“Who the hell would wanna steal your lousy old records?” demands Syra, the baker. “I think you’re just losing your marbles…” 

Sevika laughs, her eyes drifting away from the table into the crowd. The day is clear. If Vander doesn’t decide to show up in another fifteen minutes, she’ll figure that’s her sign from Janna to take the rest of the day off. Maybe she’ll walk over the bridge, listen to the buskers. Pick up some food from the vendors. Make the most of the waning autumn sun. 

That’s when she sees you, walking over to her table. 

Your eyes meet. 

Later on, Sevika will insist that she noticed you first. She will tell you that she felt your presence from the moment you walked into the bar. As the old saying goes. She’ll swear that she remembered the moment crystal-clear: the jacket you were wearing, the way your hair looked in the light. 

Whatever she remembered later on, however, you will never forget the moment you first locked gazes with her. The dark bangs sweeping over the bridge of her nose. Those eyes. 

You approach with a confidence you barely feel, fighting hard to ignore your heart slamming in your chest. The professional smile you reserve for clients feels frozen on your face and you can vaguely hear yourself saying, “Sevika, right? I’m Vander’s designer. That is, for this bar. I was told I could speak to you.” 

You’re aware that she asks for your name, and you hear yourself give it. She offers her hand. You take it. Her grip is warm and strong. She never breaks eye contact. 

“Can I speak to you aside for a minute?” You ask. 

Her companions wave her away, and she leads you up the stairs, away from the noise and chatter of the Last Drop. You follow her into an office of sorts, strewn with papers, kids’ drawings tacked up on the walls. 

“Sorry about the mess,” Sevika says. “Boss thinks his kids are Zaun’s own artistic prodigies.” 

You smile. “It’s cute.” 

She clears away a space on the desk at the front of the room for your blueprints. “You’re in charge of renovations, yeah? Heard a lot about you.” 

“You have?” 

She helps you pin down the blueprints with books and paperweights. “Sure. Word gets around fast here.” 

“Sorry if I interrupted your conversation back there,” you say. 

“No, no. You saved me from it.” 

You must have talked about the floor plans, the construction logistics. You must have asked her about Vander’s intentions for the electrical infrastructure, the plan to finish the renovations in time for the dance that was happening a month from now. You must have done all these things, but you can’t remember any of it. You can’t recall whether you spoke about steel or silver, whether you suggested using wood or plaster. All you can think of is the distracting smell of Sevika’s cologne, the muscles of her forearms, the faint moles dotting her brown skin. When you part, she gives you her card. It has her contact information, her office address. 

“In case our middle man Vander decides to run away to his romance fairy tale again, while we work our asses off,” she says with a smile. “You can find me here.” 

When you leave the Last Drop late that afternoon, there’s only one thought on your mind. 

Janna help me. I am fucked. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

If she’s being honest, Sevika did not give you much thought at first. You were the good-looking young designer, full of a purpose and efficiency that she was quick to appreciate. She had heard of your work both in Zaun and Piltover, your specialty being shop interiors, restaurants, bars. And when she began working with you, she could soon see that the rumors had not been unfounded. 

She considered you attractive, of course: many a time she found herself looking a second longer at your face than she meant to, or remembering the color of a blouse you wore slightly clearer than was normal, just because you looked good in it. She would turn suddenly in marketplaces, thinking she caught a whiff of your scent. But she hadn’t entertained anything, even in her mind. She’d assumed that someone as attractive as you would obviously already be spoken for. 

She didn’t want to fall for a vision, an ideal. She didn’t want to risk chasing something she could never have. She didn’t have the energy for that. 

But it has been two weeks, and you have been coming to the Last Drop nearly every day—as the days draw closer to the dance, the renovation work has picked up speed. You’re lively with ideas, and not a detail escapes your eye. Preserve the playful theme. Add some dartboards. Silver filigree in the chairs and tables, and how about lining the beams with gold? 

And Sevika’s beginning to think of you more and more. You’ll say something to her, and she’ll remember the way your eyes brightened, the way the scarf sat around your neck, the way your hand rested briefly on her arm—but she won’t have the foggiest idea of what you said to her. 

She likes the way her name sounds on your lips. She likes the way you talk a little faster when you get excited. She likes…

What the hell are you doing, Sevika? Pull yourself together. 

But she can’t. She can’t push you out of her thoughts. 

One night, Powder helps with the closing up as you and Sevika sit at the bar, talking over last-minute plans for the room layout before the workers are called in the next morning. As Powder stacks the glasses and wipes down the bar counter, you lean over the diagrams of the Last Drop, talking intently. 

“...If we move the pool table to this end, and arrange the tables around in a rough semi-circle, it’ll clear the way for the platform,” you explain. “Then everything can be put back easier when the dance is over.” 

“Mm,” Sevika says. 

You look over at her. “You alright?” 

She blinks, gives a start almost as if caught at something. “What?”

Your brows crease slightly in concern. “You seem tired these days. I’m working you too hard, aren’t I?” 

“Yeah. No,” Sevika corrects, shaking her head. “I mean, no, you’re not.”

You can’t help but smile at her stutter. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard her stumble over her words—she normally speaks as if every word is calculated, every phrase thought over. “But yeah, you’re tired?” you quip. 

Sevika laughs, awkwardly. “I’m fine.” 

“Can’t fool me,” you tell her. “I’ll let you off for the night. I think we’re mostly done here, anyway.” You gather up the papers and give Powder a little salute. “Bye, Powder!” 

“Good night!” Powder waves. 

She waits until the door closes behind you before flipping the cloth over her shoulder and grinning at Sevika, hands on her hips. “You like her.” 

Sevika’s head snaps up. “No, I don’t,” she says quickly. Too quickly. 

Powder gives an exasperated sigh. “Between you and Mylo, I feel like I should be getting paid for the amount of setting-up I gotta do.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sevika grumbles. 

“Come on, auntie. Everyone and their mother can see she’s into you. Why don’t you ask her to the dance?” 

Sevika feels the heat climb up her neck. “That’s ridiculous. She isn’t into me.” She glances at Powder, who’s still giving her the I can’t believe you stare. “...Is she?” 

Powder rolls her eyes. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“Well, has she told you anything?” 

Powder leans forward, elbows resting on the counter. She fixes Sevika with a pointed look. “Do you need people to tell you it’s hot in the middle of summer?” 

Sevika sighs. “I don’t want to waste my time. She could be seeing someone.” 

“Who could she possibly be seeing? She’s holding out for you!” 

“Why would she be holding out for me?” Sevika retorts. “Look at her.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean….I mean she’s her, and I’m me.” Sevika throws up her hands, helplessly. “There isn’t a chance in the world.” 

“Hey, auntie,” Powder says, the teasing edge gone from her voice. “You never know unless you talk to her.” 

“I can’t,” Sevika says. She runs a hand through her hair. “She’ll probably laugh in my face.” 

“If I can prove to you she won’t, will you give it a shot?” 

Sevika looks over at her through her hair, and Powder thinks of the puppy she found hiding in the tall grass at the edge of town. The puppy and her aunt had this in common, she thinks with amusement—they carry their fears in their eyes. 

“The other day she was talking with Vander about the color scheme for the dance,” Powder says, “and she suggested purple lighting.” 

Sevika raises an eyebrow. “So?” 

“I was in the room, and I asked her why.” Powder snaps the cloth at the table once, then folds it neatly. “Guess what she said?” 

“Don’t try me,” Sevika mutters. She looks away, pulls her body back, because she realizes just now that she was leaning forward in her seat with apprehension. 

Powder laughs. “She said because it’s your favorite color. It slipped out, just like that. It was so obvious that wasn’t what she meant to say, but she said it. You should have seen her face.” 

Sevika wracks her brain for a moment in which she might have let slip to you that purple is, indeed, her favorite color. She can’t remember for the life of her. A small hope dares to sprout in her mind, but she stamps it down. “That barely means anything,” she informs Powder. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Powder exclaims. “Who the hell dedicates the theme of a dance to a person they have no feelings for?” 

When Sevika says nothing, Powder pokes her in the shoulder. 

“I’m right and you know it.” 

Sevika huffs. “Isn’t it time for you to get to bed?” 

“I’m nearly eighteen, auntie. That line won’t work on me anymore.” As Sevika puts on her jacket, Powder switches off the lights of the bar. Before Sevika leaves, Powder calls out,

“There’s about a week left until the dance. Consider that your deadline!” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The renovations are complete. The lights installed. The themes are decided, and Sevika’s crew is nearly done with the installations. 

Powder has told you, a bit mysteriously, you think, about some last-minute light change for the stage’s neon sign. Since she said it was urgent, you come into the bar near closing time. There are no more patrons; the place is empty except for Vander and Silco, talking over something with Sevika. Her back is turned; she doesn’t see you. Powder is leaning against the other side of the counter, talking excitedly as she wipes down some glasses. When she sees you, her face lights up. She waves. 

Sevika turns around to see who Powder is greeting. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight of you. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” you say hesitantly, “but Powder said something about the li—”

“Dads!” Powder says in a loud voice. “The lights. Yes. We need to go check the lights for the sign.” 

Vander looks up at the unlit stage sign, brows furrowed in confusion. “We do?” 

You see Powder shoot a meaningful glance at Silco, who catches on faster. He grabs Vander by the arm. “Yes!” He exclaims. “We do! What in Runeterra were we thinking, with the dance just around the corner!” 

Sevika stands abruptly. “I can do it.” 

“No!” Silco and Powder say in unison. 

“No,” Powder says again, “you stay here and show her the, um, set pieces you were building for the band.” As she ushers her dads out of the bar, Powder shouts over her shoulder: “lock up when you’re done, okay? The key’s in the storage room. Thank-you-and-good-luck!”

The door slams behind them, and the place is suddenly too quiet. 

You are utterly confused, and from the bewildered expression on Sevika’s face it’s clear she hasn’t got much of a better idea of what is going on. 

Sevika’s still standing. She looks at you. You look away. 

She coughs, rubs a hand over the back of her neck. “You want a drink?” 

“Okay. Sure.” 

And this is how you find yourself alone with Sevika in an empty bar with a glass of wine in front of you. Just to give your hands something to do, you raise the glass to your lips. 

Sevika says abruptly, “there are no set pieces.” 

“I’m sorry?”

“What Powder said—ah.” She shakes her head, a huff of mixed exasperation and amusement escaping her lips. “She made that up.” 

You laugh. “Okay. I figured.” 

She looks at you the same time you look at her. This time, you don’t break the gaze. Her eyes are the clearest grey you’ve ever seen. In certain kinds of light, they shift into pale blue, like diamonds. Her brows, thick and defined. Her beautiful nose, her dark lips. You catch yourself looking at her mouth and turn away quickly, taking another sip of wine. 

Sevika’s voice drops as she says, “listen, I’m not good with games. So I’ll just get to the point.” 

The wine is hot going down. Or maybe it is just your burning face. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Sevika says. 

You keep your eyes fixed on the table. Lined with gold metal. You had watched Sevika’s calloused fingers drive in every nail. 

“I’m probably gonna make a fool of myself,” Sevika goes on, speaking slowly, “but I need you to know.” She pauses. Her voice is steady, but you can see her nerves in the way her leg bounces against the chair. “And I wanted to ask…if you would be interested…I mean, if you might want to…”

You turn to her and rest your hand on her leg. She freezes. 

“Yes, Sevika,” you say with a smile, “Yes, I would love to go to the dance with you.”

She’s quiet for so long you start to feel nervous, that maybe that wasn’t what she was trying to say. Just as you start to pull away, just as an apology starts to form on your lips, she smiles back. Incredulously. Genuinely. 

There’s a gap between her two front teeth, how had you never noticed before? 

“Really?” Sevika asks. 

You laugh out loud. “Took you long enough. Thought I was gonna have to leave town without seeing the fruits of my labor.” 

A faint flush blossoms in her face, she shakes the hair out of her eyes. “I thought you wouldn’t want to.”

She means, I thought you wouldn’t want me. 

You reach out. She grows still at the touch of your hand against her cheek. Her skin is warm against your palm as you pull her face towards yours. 

And then there is the enormous silence of your lips meeting hers.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

notes: guys, this one possessed me. it is 1 in the morning and i am drained. why is fluff so hard to writeee 😭 anyway i hope you enjoyed <33

~~~

taglist~ @notlores @demothers-empty-blog @theyluvbix @archangeldyke-all @prettyinpink69  @intrnetrbl @mamas-evil-hag @sevikassluttywaist @iliterallyhavenoideawhattosay @lez-zuha @mascdom @tiyawnyana @shanesevikasfuckdoll @vamp1reg1rrrl @00valentina-writes00 @rinmarye @starrrcane

[wainawtmai]

thinking of sukuna and bimbo!reader who people assume are a pair of kinky fucks. They see Sukuna’s aggressive demands and your quickness to follow them and think he’s the meanest dom and you his pretty little sub. His to tie up, spank and berate while you mewl and whimper pathetically for more.

well, the two of you are definitely kinky…

…no one would believe that the huge and terrifying Ryomen Sukuna liked to be used and tied up. With pretty pink ropes that you use to bind his thick muscular thighs to his ankles and his arms to his wrists. They wouldn’t believe the way your pretty doe eyes light up sadistically as you edge him till he growls, promising vengeance.

“you wanna cum, ‘kuna?” You ask sweetly, dragging the sparkly peach acrylic of your nail up his twitching, leaking cock. “if I don’t get a response, I’ll leave you here and you’ll have to find your own way out of these ropes.”

“you wouldn’t fucking dare.” He snarls, red eyes leering at you as best as he could in his position. “I’ve had enough, make me come. Now.”

what a brat, you think, though this is standard for him, his dominant attitude and general sense of authority and entitlement. Despite the fact that he was literally trembling with need, cock forming a pool of pre all over his stomach.

“now that’s not nice, ‘kuna,” you pout, nails digging firmly into the hardened length of his cock. Sukuna jolts and grumbles out a curse, come spurting out of his abused cock pathetically. You watch it all with a tight smile, as he comes ropes and ropes all over himself all the while grunting and groaning your name.

“awww, you came,” you coo, loosening your grip around him, “without my permission.” Sukuna could still see your smile through his blurry gaze as he came down from his high, the crazy sort of look in your eyes. He’d done it now.

“just from the feeling of my fingers digging into your cock.” You trace the fading crescent imprints of your nails along his veiny length, humming at the sight, “such a slut for pain aren’t you, ‘kuna? Despite how much you pretend you’re not.” Your right hand once again circles his cum-soaked cock, left stuffing fingers into his mouth to silence him as you stroke him through overstimulation. He immediately bites down on your fingers and growls, straining against the ropes binding him as his cock aches deliciously.

“you asked to come, didn’t you?” You say, “I’m letting you come, ‘kuna.” You giggle as he thrashes against you, drooling all over your fingers as he tries and fails to glare at you through the intertwining pain and pleasure ebbing through him. the ropes feel too tight but the chaffing against his skin only makes his cock harder. he wants to stop—no, he needs to come.

his second orgasm tears through him, his groans soothing out into pathetic muffled moans. But of course you don’t stop, crazy woman. Your hands tighten and squeeze as you stroke him with no remorse. It hurts so good and you fucking know it, know he can’t resist his bottomless need to feel pain.

“do you want me to stop, ‘kuna?” Usually his pride would keep his lips sealed shut, but you’ve fucked everything out of him, loosened his sharp mouth. He doesn’t know how many times he’s come at this point. “Be good and ask nicely.”

you take your fingers out of his mouth and he hates the way he misses the fullness, “don’t…” he croaks, “stop.”

“god, you’re a freak.” You giggle, resuming your movements, relishing the slight whimper in his voice as your hand circles his throat, nails digging into his neck, and force another impossible orgasm out of him.

fuck, sukuna loved hated you.

[obaewankenope]

We have similar combs to that in equine care in modern times so I'm not overly surprised that the replica works, nor that it works so well.

I've mainly seen these sorts of combs used for mane and tail care because, like our own hair, they work pretty well for teasing out knots, countering too much frizz, and can help work stuff like shampoos and oils into the hair. I HAVE also used them on the main coat before, especially when neigh neigh is shedding because omfg do horses have a LOT of hair.

And its hair not fur for horses in case there are those who don't know.

Edit: I'm not talking about clickerpunk in my following aside, I'm speaking informally and using "you" as a generic term. I'm also info dumping because that's what I do. I'm not criticising or judging clickerpunk in any way here, my concern in my aside is with people who have no prior knowledge or experience with horses mistakenly using videos without caring for the context of those videos to do things they think is okay in all situations or regularly.

Minor aside:

It's generally not advised to groom horses when they are wet, damp, or muddy because of the risks and complications of doing so.

Wet mud will get worked into the coat right down to the skin instead of coming out if you don't allow the coat to dry first. Dried mud flakes off and is much, much easier to handle.

Of course, if you have issues with dried mud in awkward places (or matted too close to the skin that it pulls uncomfortably when you try to brush it out) you can lightly soften it with a damp cloth and tease it out with a comb before letting it dry again and removing the remainder normally.

Ultimately, grooming a wet horse is not advised because you work the moisture into the coat and down to the skin which can chill them. For horses that have double layer coats (like Icelandic horses/ponies and a number of native breeds tbf), they have a second layer below the top coat to help keep warmth in so you can understand how working the moisture down into that second layer isn't a great idea in colder conditions.

The coat can also be damaged by grooming when wet because hair can tangle, break, or become matted as well. The risk increases when there's mud involved since, as mentioned, that works down to the skin and can cause skin irritation as well.

Mud fever is a condition that usually occurs on a horses legs where mud works in deep into the feathers on their legs, bacteria breeds, and causes skin irritation. It's not fun for horses to deal with, is very itchy, and painful as scabs and sores can form. It can cause lameness and even affect the muscle tissue if not treated.

A brief test of a brush/comb isn't too bad but I'm worried about anyone watching this who are new to, or had no experience with, horses and incorrectly assume that wet grooming is fine.

I remember how I once got a proper telling off as an 11yo when I tried to groom a horse that was slightly damp from a brief rainshower, complete with a detailed lecture on why its a Bad Idea and "to never do that again" which has stuck with me even 20+ years later lol.

Rudi got to be part of some experimental archeology today! Testing if this large comb found in the Oseberg viking grave could have been a horse brush/comb! It was super interesting to see how well it actually worked on her shedding winter coat.

(This one was a beautiful replica made by Knut Roger Brekke, not the real one obviously)

[dcxdpdabbles]

For The next part of freelance inventor, you should do more parent trapping(if you want, of course) I was just picturing cartoon level schemes trying to get these two to kiss.

On the flipside, what would happen if the two of them had a fight? I can see the kids and Alfred just kind of trying to make Bruce agree how wrong he was.

"Bruce?"

His heart stops at the sound of that voice, and then it speeds up before he can look over his shoulder. Not that he needs to. He already knows who called out to him.

Only one person in the world adds a certain ring to his name when they speak it.

Bruce turns away from his laptop, displaying some spreadsheets of the upcoming term, coming face to face with Danny Fenton's beaming smile. Behind him, the ocean gleams like liquid sapphire, highlighting the brightness and warmth in Danny's aqua-blue eyes.

He once thought Danny wasn't human; surely, no human could have eyes like those. The sunlight bounces off the dark of his hair, swaying in the breeze, and it somehow calls attention to the laughing lines around his eyes and mouth.

He's shirtless, showing off a physique that would fit a swimmer. His black swimming shorts are covered in the NASA symbol, which is such a Danny thing to do that it makes Bruce's heart skip a beat.

It's odd. As one of the wealthiest bachelors in the world, Bruce had always been surrounded by gorgeous people. Usually, women and men flung themselves at him, whispering false claims of eternal love while displaying teasing hints of the bodies. It was a tool they wielded to charm him into doing what they wanted, but none of them could even compare to Danny's looks.

Perhaps it was due to how effortlessly beautiful Danny was. He didn't spend hours and hours on his looks. Bruce had heard people claim the inventor was plain, but he could never see it.

Bruce had always thought he was pretty from the moment Dick wandered to his table. The gentleness with which he spoke to his then nine-year-old son with respect and full attention as he explained his first intention- the portable charger. How could anyone not be memorized by him?

"Danny? What are you doing here?" He asks after realizing he is gawking like a fool.

His friend's eyes crinkle further as he laughs. "On vacation. Jay and Dick told me about this place, and since I had a conference on the island, I thought I would spend my off time at the private huts. What about you?"

Oh, those little rats. This was all a setup. He should have known something was up when they all forced him to accept it.

"The kids bought me a private hut for a weekend." He answers, moving his eyes away from Danny's lips with great effort. "They said it was a gift and a means to follow my doctor's orders."

"Dami told me about that. The doctor said you have been putting too much stress on your heart, and yet, here you are, working on vacation." Danny planted his hands on his hips, shaking his head in mock pity. "I bet you haven't even frolicked through a field of flowers or jumped over waves since you arrived."

Bruce feels a burst of amusement and slight anticipation tickle the bottom of his stomach. "Well, I just don't know how to do any of that."

"Since we're hut neighbors, I could show you how to have fun. You rich people know what that is, right? Fun?" Danny asks, reaching down to grip Bruce's wrist. Where he touches, tringles of flames light up his skin, and Bruce fights to keep the blush off his face. "I suppose you don't. The first lesson must be how to frolic through the ocean waves, and it starts right now!"

"I thought it was a field of flowers?" He laughs, allowing the shorter man to pull him toward the blue water.

"It's a hybrid course, Bruce," Danny laughs, splashing through the first wave until they are waist-deep and spinning around to grin at him. Bruce practically swallows his own tongue as the man shines in the sunlight, with a beaming soft smile that makes him feel like the only man in the world. "Prepare for the best weekend of your life. No kids. No work. Just us, the ocean, and some tasty meals!"

"That sounds like heaven," Bruce tells him, wondering if Danny can tell how soft his eyes have become or the yearning in his voice. He just knows somewhere in Gotham, all his children are high-fiving each other and scheming up another ill-fated attempt to get Bruce with the man of his dreams.

It's not that he's unaware of their goals. But over ten years after he'd known Danny, silently pinning for him, Bruce realized it would never happen. His friend didn't feel attraction like that.

If Bruce had told him how he felt, he would have lost Danny forever. He would rather live with this buckling longing for the rest of his life if it meant he could be gifted with Danny's friendly smiles and presence.

Danny reaches back, cupping his hands to gather water and splashing Bruce with a gleeful "What are you standing around for? Come! Frolic!"

Bruce grins, throwing back some water in a bigger splash as the young man screams, attempting to escape. He follows close behind, trying to drown the other between gasps of laughter. For a brief moment, he allows himself to live a fantasy life where this was a real romantic getaway, not a setup by his less-than-subtle children.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Fine! Be that way! Excuse me for having a fucking opinion!" Danny hisses, swinging around and stomping out of the room. Bruce's chest feels hot with anger; the angry words that had fallen from his mouth taste bitter and satisfying simultaneously. It's a whirlwind of contradicting emotions that he does nothing when the other man slams the door behind him.

He slams his hands over his eyes, willing himself to calm down but it's hard when Danny is the one who set him off. Danny is the only one in the world that made him feel everything like an explosion.

Both the positive and negative emotions.

How did things come to this? The conversation was going well until the two started talking about the Joker. He's always known his friend had a less white and dark point of view regarding the clown, but to actively claim that Batman was a coward for not killing him when he had the chance?

Yes, Danny didn't know Bruce was Batman, so when he tried to explain that the superhero was afraid that if he started taking lives, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop Danny had grown dismissive. It wasn't meant to attack Bruce, but he knows that logically.

But it still felt like the man he was in love with was calling him a coward straight to his face, and Bruce grew defensive. He tends to lash out when he's on the defense, and before long, the two were in a heated debate about vigilantes in general.

Suddenly, Danny was his face, sneering and growling, when Bruce pointed out that Phantom was the small-town hero of Danny's boyhood and someone he felt jealous of. Danny obviously held the hero in high regard to the point it felt like he was in love with him if Danny was inclined to such emotions- he was just if not more dangerous than Batman would ever be.

It went even worse when Bruce spoke his support for the Anti-Eco Acts that were currently being discussed.

A lot of hateful words were spoken in ten minutes, and by the end of it, Bruce couldn't even figure out how it ended, with Danny's eyes watering up with angry tears or his chest heaving with the screaming.

Why did he even say that? Bruce had a lot of issues with the Anit-Eco Acts. They were far too seated in bigotry to be anything but an excuse to hunt a different race.

He regretted his words, though he doubted he could ask Danny for forgiveness soon. That man was known for holding a grudge and giving the cold shoulder when angry.

Bruce would have to grovel later.

The door to his study slams open, and his children crowd the entrance, looking alight and outraged.

"Why did you make Dad cry!?" Jason demands, crossing his arms and looking ready to throw down. The kids started calling Danny Dad a few months ago when Tim accidentally slipped it into a conversation, and Danny thought it was sweet.

They played it off as a joke, but Bruce knew they liked referring to him as Dad. Bruce was Father in formal events, B in casual moments, and when angry with him, the kids simply referred to him as B.

B for Bitch since you act like one, Dick once explained, eyes burning with anger and a smile as sharp as broken glass.

"You better have a good reason, B." Tim hisses, voice low and anger tightly coiled like a snake ready to strike. It's a violent reminder of Danny that Bruce can only place his hand over his eyes again and groan.

"We had a disagreement."

"What did you do?" Damian demands next, tapping his left foot impatiently. He picked that up from Jazz the last time Danny's sister was in town. "Before claiming innocence, just know you're always at fault. Dad can do no wrong."

"Hear, hear," Steph, Duke, and Cass say together, glaring daggers at Bruce.

Great. The kids have unionized against him.

"We had a disagreement on the Anti-Eco Acts." He grits through clutch teeth, trying to get his shimmering anger to calm down. The children are not helping, and his frustration rises slowly at the avalanche of noise his children release.

"How dare you!"

"Those acts are a blatant disregard of human decency!"

"I always knew you were a white privilege asshole but this!?"

"I will stay with Danny for the rest of the month! I can't believe this!"

"Look here, you Father. You will not support those act,s especially at the expense of Dad!"

"You blue-eyed demon."

Bruce puts his head into his hands and screams. Danny returns to talk this over hours later, but Bruce is right.

He has a lot of groveling he needs to do. His kids still lock him out of his room. They have a sleepover with Danny, dragging in their mattress and watching movies late into the night.

He sleeps on the couch, listening to their merry-making with a heavy heart. Aflred refused to let him sleep in a guest room once Dick informed him that Bruce was in the dog house with Danny.

Betrayed in his own home.

The Anti-Ecto Acts are rejected primarily due to Bruce Wayne spearheading their resistance. Danny hugs him when he reads the paper, and all is right with the world. The Kids still don't let him sleep in his own bed, and for a month, Bruce's back hurts from the lumping couch cushions.

Clark tells him jokingly the children would choose Danny in a divorce, so he starts carrying around Kryptonite.

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 14

Summary: The universe (and some people) conspire to reunite you with Wanda.

“Y/N” Wanda says, and your heart beats faster.

“Hey. Hi. How…”

How are you? is such an idiotic question to ask. You clear your throat, running your fingers through your hair.

“What’s up?”

Ok, that’s worse.

“Sorry for bothering you, I wasn’t… I wasn’t thinking clearly. Tommy ran away…”

“Wait, he what? Hold on, I’ll call you when I’m at the airport”

“No, no” Wanda pleads, regretting her choice of words. “He’s safe. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”

“Ok. Maybe lead with that next time?” you sigh, collapsing in the sofa.

Wanda laughs and it makes your heart swoon. And ache.

“You’re right, I’m so sorry. Like I said… I wondered if he might have been in touch with you or something and that’s why I called. But he’s safe now”

“I haven’t spoken to them since I left” you say in a small voice, and Wanda falls silent for a moment.

“They ask about you all the time”

“I think about them all the time”

And about you.

“Anyways. Sorry for scaring you and interrutpting”

“Just watching a movie” you say, knowing she’s referring to Natasha. Though you don’t owe her an explanation.

You both stay silent and you have to hold back tears.

“Uh, sorry about leaving my stuff. I could get someone to pick them up. I’m not going back to Westview until Carol’s wedding in April” you say.

“No, that’s fine. Don’t worry about it, leave them here and just come over when you’re in town” Wanda says, disappointed to hear that you don’t have any immediate plans to come back to Westview.

“Ok, thanks. I should…”

“I follow Jenny on instagram” Wanda says, clearly ignoring your attempt to end the conversation.

“Really?” you play dumb. “You know I don’t have social media, so we just text”

“She posted a picture of you. And your brother I assume?”

“Zach, yeah. She’s applying to NYU, so we had a weekend there. The usual, Broadway, baseball. It was fun”

“It looked like fun, yeah” Wanda nods, remembering how much joy it brought her to see you again.

You looked fine. A little tired, but the smile was there, maybe because your sister was hugging you close while your brother made a face.

Of course they’d love you, even if you hadn’t been in contact for years. You are amazing.

And Wanda fucked it up. She stares at the ring, still thinking about whether or not to tell you she found it.

“Y/N…”

There’s the distinct sound of a pager and you sigh.

“Great. I’m sorry, I have to go”

“I understand” Wanda says. “You take care of yourself now, ok?”

“Bye, Wanda”

You hang up, because you can’t stand the idea of saying goodbye to her. Is this really how it ends? A stupid phone conversation and you taking back boxes of clothes in a few months.

You wish you could call her back and tell her this is bullshit, she was an ass and so were you, but you can work through it.

But you don’t, because you’re scared of what she has to say.

So you leave for work, thinking about her voice, her laugh, her lips on your skin.

And how the memories are all that’s left of your life together.

—

Wanda stares at the phone. Just when she had gathered the courage to tell you about the ring, you hung up.

Maybe it was for the best.

What would you even say? That you planned on proposing and then Wanda ruined everything? Hurt you, destroyed your relationship beyond repair.

Knowing about the ring didn’t change things, not on your side.

Wanda sat on the porch, holding on to the ring box. She opens it again, amazed at how beautiful and perfect it is. It was obvious you had put so much thought into picking the right ring.

“Señor Scratchy!” Agatha calls for him, around the corner. “Why didn’t Rio give me a freakin fish instead? Hey, Wanda”

“Hi, Agatha. Your bunny again?”

“Yeah, he likes to escape. Heard you have one of those as well” she smiles, referring to Tommy.

“How did you…?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard” the woman keeps chatting as she looks around, hoping to spot the animal. “Your mom and I are besties. I was just with Mrs. Davies”

Of course.

“I think he’s right here” Wanda thinks she spots the bunny, moving forward. She tries to catch him with both hands, but ends up dropping the box, revealing the ring.

“Damn, that’s nice” Agatha whistles, picking it up and examining it. “Family heirloom?”

“No, not exactly” Wanda shakes her head, picking up the bunny and hugging him close to her chest.

Agatha sits next to her, still looking at the ring.

“So, she was proposing. Come on, it doesn’t take a genius to know” she says when Wanda gives her a look.

“God, I screwed up so bad” Wanda shakes her head. “She left for good and I won’t ever be able to fix this”

“Did she really?”

“What?”

“Leave? For good. Don’t you have all her clothes here? If she was done, she would have taken them out, changed her number, thrown the ring into the river” Agatha argues, placing the box down.

“I hurt her too much. She’ll never forgive me”

“Are we talking about the same Y/N? The one that brought medicine to that old lady down the street even if she was a homophobic demon?”

“Agatha, don’t speak ill of the dead” Wanda says, though Mrs. Miller was the worst person she ever met.

“Well, she’s in a warmer place now. But anyway! That’s not the point. You can stay here and cry all day or you can at least try. You’re assuming the worst and that’s what led you here, isn’t it?”

“Well…”

“Get your sorry ass from the floor and do something about it, Maximoff! Get the girl back” Agatha says, shaking Wanda by the shoulders.

“Ok, ok! I’ll think of something”

“Good girl. Now hand me back my bunny. We’re past our bedtime”

—

Darcy’s walking down the hallway when she gets a text from you.

Y/N: Out on a sidequest, call you later. Love ya

“Who does she think she is, deciding when I get to scold her?” she complains. The brunette is so busy typing out a response that she misses the man that almost crashes into her.

“So sorry. I’m looking for Chief Fury”

“Job interview?” she says, arching her eyebrow.

“Yes, for Head of Trauma”

“Right. Well, I’m sorry that no one told you before, but that position’s been taken. Better luck next time…” she dismisses the man, the way she’s been tricking the few people who have been meeting the chief.

Darcy’s always looking for a way to sabotage the interviews, either by lying and saying the position’s closed or by feeding them false information. Like Fury likes to be greeted with two kisses, one on each cheek.

That was a fun day.

The man walks away, and she’s about to reply to you when someone calls her from the corner.

“Psss”

Darcy looks around, her eyes meeting Rio’s. This is gonna be interesting.

“What’s up, girl?”

“I know someone who is looking to form an alliance… to bring Y/N back” she whispers, and then smiles like a psycho. “She wants to speak to you”

“If it’s Wanda…”

“Nope. Do you agree to a meeting? I’ll set it up”

Darcy thinks about it for a second, considering if it’s worth it. She should at least get to know her potential ally.

“Fine. But I’m not meeting them in a dark alley”

“I’ll arrange it”

Darcy is about to change her mind when Chief Fury calls for her. In the split second it takes her to look back at her boss, Rio has completely vanished.

“You wouldn’t happen to have seen a doctor that was coming for an interview?”

“No, and boy, look at the time, it’s appy hour at Stark Hospital!” she glances at her wrist watch. “See ya around, boss!”

“You can’t keep sending them home, Lewis! We need a new Head of Trauma” Fury says.

“Totally, good luck with that!”

—

“Ready?”

“No” you say, refusing to leave the dressing room. You see Darcy typing but then her text is never sent. She’s probably working.

Which is what you’d rather be doing instead of trying on dresses.

“Come out now” Natasha commands, and her tone leaves little room for argument.

“Fine”

You stumble awkwardly out of the changing room, not used to wearing dresses.

“I look stupid” you complain, and Natasha supresses a laugh. “I’m not going!”

That makes her jump.

“You look fine!”

“It’s not my style. And why are you picking out dresses for me?”

“Because I already have mine, and I know what will match” Natasha explains, handing you another one. “Try this one”

Before you can protest, Yelena jumps out, admiring herself on the mirror.

“My boobs look great in this!”

“Yeah, they do” you nod, which earns you a slap on the arm by Natasha. “Hey, I’m just being supportive. Unlike that bra she’s wearing”

“I’m not wearing a bra. I think it will look better that way” she comments.

“No, you just want to piss off mother” Natasha says, leaning against the wall. She waits until you step out to help pull your zipper up. “See? You clean up nice”

“I still don’t like it” you mutter. “I’m a pants kinda gal through and through”

Yelena has settled on her dress, which makes you feel pressured to pick something. So you just let Natasha decide and walk with her to the register.

“I’m paying for it”

“Nu-uh”

“You’re going as a favor to me”

“It’s an open bar, you will regret inviting me”

You try to reach for her hand and drop her credit card, but she’s faster. And infuriating. The struggle makes you lose your footing, dropping to the floor.

“You’re both idiots” Yelena steps over you to pay for her clothes.

As Natasha helps you up, you look at a shop across the street.

“Wow, those are pretty cool”

“Huh…” Natasha looks you up and down, evaluating the possibilities. “Leave that dress. We’re finding something else”

—

Wanda’s looking at her phone again. Ekaterina and Pietro share a look, knowing something’s up.

Everyone’s home today, even if it’s a school day. Considering everything that happened yesterday, Wanda thought it might be a good idea to let the kids stay, watch movies and have some family time.

Though she still has to go to a meeting with Laura. The book is getting published soon and there are events they have to plan, like readings at bookshops or libraries.

It was Wanda’s favorite part about releasing a new book. And the worst thing is she was looking forward to having you by her side, to share all the things that happen while doing it.

“Gotta go meet Laura. I won’t be long” she announces, and is pleasantly surprised when the twins rush to hug her goodbye. “Let’s all go out for dinner, what do you guys think?”

“Yeah, sounds fun” Tommy says, going back to the couch where he’s playing videogames with Pietro.

Before starting her drive, she breathes deeply and decides to just pull the plug. So, she sents you a message and hopes you’ll answer.

Wanda has to remind herself that you’re probably busy and that’s why there’s no reply when she parks outside of her friend’s office.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Laura goes straight to hug her. “I’m happy Tommy’s ok”

“Yeah, we’re all good. Just hoping things get better soon”

“Of course. Honestly, we don’t have to talk about the promo tour today, you should go home and spend time with them, Wanda”

“No, that’s fine. I could use the distraction” she nods, pulling out her laptop.

For the next hour, they go over the calendar, deciding which events will take priority. It’s a month and a half away, but Wanda knows time flies when you have to meet a deadline.

“There’s one last thing” Laura says, trying to sound normal. “And listen, just give it some thought, ok?”

“What is it?”

“You know Wendy Lawson, right?”

“The legendary author? Of course I do. Who doesn’t?”

“She’s working on a new book, and she asked specifically about you to illustrate it” Laura says, with a very distinct lack of enthusiasm.

“Ok, that’s amazing! That’s every artist’s dream. Why are you making it sound like a bad thing?” Wanda says, confused.

“Well, here’s the thing. She doesn’t want to just do everything over video calls or anything else. Wendy is asking for you to go back and forth to review designs in person. And it’s right before the tour, so… it’s gonna be a hassle”

Wanda realises a second later that Wendy Lawson is currently living in Boston.

“I’ll do it” she says, her mind racing with ideas.

She could go and look for you, try to talk face to face. Fix everything, or at the very least try.

This seems like more than a coincidence.

It’s meant to be.

“Really? What about the kids?”

“Well, it doesn’t look like my mother is planning on leaving anytime soon. And seeing as this is a once in a lifetime opportunity…”

“Yeah, it is. Alright, then let’s set up a meeting with her team. I do think you have to speak with her editor first, but they’ll be happy to fly you to Boston” Laura says, shocked that it took no effort to convince Wanda. This really was a great opportunity, but all things considered, she was expecting a very firm no on her friend’s side.

“Great” Wanda says, putting her things away. “It’s settled then”

She feels very optimistic once she gets in the car.

It’s even better when you finally reply to her text.

The music’s loud as she drives home, but for the first time it isn’t to keep her from thinking about you. It’s just because she’s happy.

—

Darcy’s not sure this is a good idea.

She’s sitting at the diner like Rio told her, with her back to the door.

“Whatever you do, don’t look at the people coming in. They want to remain in the shadows” Rio had said with a somber expression.

Maybe it was all a prank.

But still, she hears the door open and close, and then someone is sitting on the booth behind her, and she’s back to back with her mysterious ally.

“Doctor Darcy Lewis?” a woman says.

“Yes” Darcy frowns. “Who am I speaking to?”

“That is not important, Doctor Lewis. What’s important is that we share a common goal”

“Bring Y/N back”

“With Wanda” the mystery woman adds.

“Now wait a minute!” Darcy snaps, ignoring the warning of not looking at the woman. “Nu-uh. I don’t give a damn if she gets back with Wanda. In fact, I don’t think she deserves her, not after all the shitty things she said to my friend”

“Love is complicated, Doctor”

“Is it now, Mrs. Maximoff?” Darcy glares.

The woman sighs, moving to Darcy’s booth and sitting in front of her.

“How did you know?”

“Gut feeling. Plus you have the same eyes” the brunette crosses her arms, ready to continue arguing. “Like I said, I want my friend back because this is where she belongs. Whatever the deal is between her and Wanda is none of my concern. Especially because she’s the reason Y/N left in the first place”

“And you don’t think they can fix it?” the woman asks. It sounds like she really wants to know, considering Darcy is your best friend and knows you better than anyone.

And truth is, you were really happy with Wanda. It felt like you had found a place in the world, with a family that loved you.

“Maybe. I know Y/N still loves Wanda. That’s why she ran away. She was probably scared to ask Wanda to work it out and have her slam the door in her face”

“Yes, well, my daughter isn’t particularly good at dealing with rejection either” Ekaterina sighs.

“Fine. If it means I get my best friend back I can work with you. But I won’t put in a good word for Wanda unless I’m convinced she’ll do better”

“That’s fair”

“So, let’s get some food. Seems like we have a lot of planning to do” Darcy says, smiling at the other woman.

—

It’s all moving surprisingly fast. As in, Wanda already has a flight booked for Friday, returning early Saturday.

Her mother takes the news surprisingly well.

“Mama, if it’s too much work I’m sure I can get a babysitter…”

“A stranger to look after my boys!” Ekaterina sighs, exasperated. “I’m not that old, malyshka. I can handle it for two days”

“Alright, if you’re sure…”

“Yes. Now I have to take my daily walk. Come, little dog” she calls for Sparky, who is eager to get out of the house.

There’s a reason behind it, though. She needs to call her secret ally and update her on the news.

“Darcy here” the brunette greets. “I know you’re calling to scold me, but I haven’t been able to convince her to come back for Carol’s fake bridal shower”

“That won’t be necessary. Wanda’s going to Boston”

“Damn, you’re good. How did you get her to do it?” Darcy says.

“Oh, the universe works in mysterious ways. It’s actually something about work but it might be a good chance for them to meet. Can you find out what Y/N is doing this week? I’ll try to convince Wanda to meet her”

“Wait, when did you say she was going to Boston?”

“Oh… you heard already” Kate Bishop comes out of nowhere. “I-I’m sorry, I meant to tell you sooner, and it’s only going to be a week, I promise I’ll come back”

“Bishop, what are you babbling about?” Darcy interrupts, frowning. She’s definitely not as patient as you were with the resident.

“I thought you knew about me going to Boston for a few days. Just to observe the kidney transplant. Yelena invited me”

“Ok, hold on. Ekaterina, we have someone on the inside”

“Inside of what? You Americans and your vulgar…”

“Gotta call you back” Darcy hangs up, pulling Kate along. “Ok, tell me everything you’re supposed to do. If you want Y/N back to teaching you, you have to agree to be our doble agent”

“Our?”

“That’s not important” Darcy dismisses her question. “Now speak”

—

Wanda: Do you have a moment to chat?

Y/N: Hey, I’m going to join a surgery. Can call in a few hours.

Y/N: Everything ok?

Wanda has been texting you here and there to ask about small stuff. It’s always something related to things you were in charge of, like Sparky’s vet appointments or her car’s maintenance.

If it makes her life easier, you’re more than happy to help. It’s the least you could do.

Except today. She texted early and you honestly didn’t check your phone. Now calls aren’t coming through either.

“Hey, Kate” you greet at the front desk, still looking at your phone. “Checked my post ops yet? There’s this guy in room 1045 that I need to…”

Wait a damn minute.

You finally look up.

“Hi” your former resident greets with a smile and you finally snap out of it.

This is Boston. Kate doesn’t work here.

“What are you… is Darcy here?” you look around, knowing your friend is capable of kidnapping you if that’s what it takes.

“No, I’m here because Yelena invited me to see the kidney transplant” she rushes to explain. “Also, hi Doctor Y/L/N. It’s good to see you”

“Call me Y/L, I’m not your superior anymore. And yeah, right back at you” you smile at her. You’re about to say goodbye as you have some patients to check still but she speaks again.

“We all miss you. Barnes and Doctor Lewis fight all the time”

“That sounds about right. I miss everyone too” you admit with a sad smile. “Anyway, gotta check on post ops. See you there”

It’s a little freaky, to see Kate in the midde of a hospital that is not Stark. Like you’re having deja vu or something. It almost feels like you’ll run into Darcy next, or get a surprise visit from Wanda to drop off some cookies.

Stop it.

You need to focus. All eyes are on the hospital for the next few days as they’ll perform the second xenotransplant. It’s amazing, really. A genetically-edited pig kidney into a living recipient.

And although you’re not in the surgical team, you are allowed in the OR to observe and help.

“You’ll never believe who I ran into” you say when you spot Natasha. “Kate. She said Yelena invited her”

“Huh. Do you think that she’s also her date to the gala?” Natasha frowns. In that precise moment, Yelena walks by, making you both turn to look at her. Without saying anything, you run after her, Natasha close behind.

You manage to catch up, blocking her path and making sure Natasha doesn’t let her escape either.

“I don’t have time to play games”

“Is it because you’re little girlfriend is already here?” you mock.

“What?”

“Kate Bishop” Natasha clarifies.

“That is not… you don’t even know what… сука! Both of you” Yelena blushes. Natasha and you laugh at her expression, and she uses the distraction to walk around you. She makes sure you get to see her flipping you off before disappearing around the corner.

“Are you ready?” Natasha asks, turning her attention towards you.

“Yeah. I’m just observing, never been to one”

“I meant the gala”

“Oh, that. I’ve never been to one of those either”

“Just eat, drink, laugh” Natasha eases your nerves. “Mother is the only one giving a speech. She wants to let everyone know we’re doing another transplant”

“Wait, but why would she schedule the surgery after the gala? Is it because post op is a lot of work?”

“You know the rejection risk is higher with genetically altered organs” Natasha explains. “If the gala happens before the surgery, she can just mention we are doing it. Now, if it goes wrong, it won’t be part of the speech”

“Oh, ok”

“It’s all politics” she says, understanding you’re career has never been about that.

“Well, I’ll see you in the penthouse? Don’t know if the lovebirds are riding with us”

“Seven thirty” Natasha nods, leaving to check on some patients.

The sound of your phone makes you turn back, but it’s not Wanda.

“Hey, Darcy. Guess who’s in Boston?”

“Hey, pal. Oh, do tell” the brunette asks, curious if Ekaterina convinced Wanda to let you know about her travel plans.

“Kate. Yelena invited her to this gala the Romanoffs are planning. It was so crazy running into her in the front desk. For a moment I thought I went back in time”

“Oh. Yeah, Kate” Darcy sounds disappointed, which is weird. “She took some days off but I had no idea that was her plan” she lies.

“Well, I’m sure she didn’t want anyone to think I was convincing her to leave Stark Hospital”

“So, a gala!” Darcy changes the subject. “Sounds fun. Are you going?”

“Yeah. There’s an open bar”

“And are you bringing a date?”

“Well, I am the date. I’m Natasha’s plus one” you explain, and there’s an awkward pause on the other side of the line. “Uh, Darcy?”

Damn it, damn it.

Darcy already knew about the gala. It was so easy to make Kate crack under the slightest pressure.

But her plan was to make Wanda reach out today and you’d ask her to be your date. You being Natasha’s date is not gonna work out.

“Yeah, I just… so what are you doing the day after the gala?”

“Kidney transplant. I mean, not doing it. But just watching and assisting for a bit”

For fuck’s sake, would you even have a spare moment to meet Wanda?

This might be the only chance she’d get, considering it wouldn’t be certain she’d be getting the job.

“Ok, well. Have fun doing everything. Sounds like you’re booked and busy”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you how it goes. Bye, Darcy”

As soon as you hang up, Darcy calls Wanda’s mother.

“We need to delay the operation contact zero for one day”

“I’ll call my insider” the woman answers criptically.

“You scare me, Ekaterina” Darcy says, questioning if the woman is some sort of retired spy. When she hears the older woman laugh and hang up, she’s 99% convinced that’s the case.

—

“What do you mean, if I can keep her occupied for the entire day? Laura, I’m pregnant!”

“Lily, I know…”

“So pregnant, that if I so much as sneeze, I’m positive this baby will just pop out!”

“That’s not how it works, thankfully. Trust me, I know”

“Laura…” the woman pinches the bridge of her nose.

Should have taken maternity leave sooner.

“Look, I get it. It’s complicated, but I promise you, if you listen to me, Wanda will sign the deal and go back and forth between Boston and Westview”

Thing is, Lily really needs this. If her boss finally finds an illustrator that can live up to her expectations, then she can take her leave and not be bothered by work in the upcoming 12 weeks.

“Ok, fine. I’ll figure something out”

“Thank you, I owe you big time”

“Uh-hu. Yeah, you do, Mrs. Barton”

“Oh, and try to keep her away from her phone”

“Anything else? Oh, gotta go”

Wanda Maximoff comes out of the arrival’s section in the airport, looking around. Lily waves her hand, and the redhead walks towards her with a smile.

“Hello, you must be Lily…” she goes to shake her hand, but the other woman pulls her in for a hug.

“Sorry about the baby bump, he wants to say hi as well”

“No, no worries at all. How far along?”

“Well, 39 weeks which means I’m ready to pop any day now! That also means we get a driver to take us anywhere you want. So get in the car and prepare for a very busy day, Wanda”

“Oh, my phone is in my bag…” Wanda says as Lily throws it in the trunk.

“No worries, Laura has my number. If anyone needs to reach you she can text or call” the woman insists, hoping Wanda doesn’t push it.

Of course, she doesn’t as she wants to make a good impression on her potential employers.

“Let’s start with the Paul Revere house, shall we?”

—

You look at yourself in the mirror for the tenth time. When was the last time you dressed fancy?

Even if it’s tailored to perfection, you’re still making sure the red suit is looking fine, adjusting the white shirt underneath the jacket.

Though you don’t know what Natasha’s wearing, she promised you’d match.

And she’s right, because when she knocks on your door and you open it, she’s wearing a black and red sequenced dress. It’s a mermaid cut that favors her figure.

“Shall we get going?” she says when you keep staring.

“Yes, of course. Don’t laugh at me” you add when you spot a faint smile on her face.

“I already told you, it’s fun to see you flustered”

“Mhm. Are the lovebirds joining us?”

“I think they’ll be arriving separately. It’s not like prom where we all ride a limo”

“Well, I didn’t go to prom, and if I had, it certainly wouldn’t have been on a limo” you say, making Natasha laugh.

She drives you to the gala, as you have no idea where it’s all happening. A man approaches to open your door and help you out.

“Fancy” you comment when a valet takes Natasha’s car. “And I’m surprised you let anyone else drive that thing”

“They already know how much it costs” she comments.

If you think a man opening the car door is fancy, then what the hell is the thing waiting inside? There’s a chandelier, a string quartet, servers dressed to the nines and the best part, an open bar with all the things you could dream of drinking.

“Hey, where are you dragging me?”

“We have to say hello first” Natasha says through her teeth. “You’ll get drunk later, trust me”

The woman drags you to a table where Melina is chatting with two men, and they introduce themselves. The names don’t ring any bells, but apparently they are congressmen.

“A pleasure” you say, hoping the small talk can end soon.

“Is this your first gala? I don’t recall seeing you before”

“Yes, I’m working as Head of Trauma at Romanoff Medical Center until they can find someone to stay for good” you explain.

“Why not stay here? Is there somewhere else you might want to go?”

“I’m not sure. Coming to Boston was never in my plans but here I am. I guess I’m just living one day at a time” you say with a fake smile. Natasha picks up on your discomfort, ending the conversation and excusing the both of you.

She goes around the room to introduce you to other people, but when Yelena finally arrives you walk up to meet her.

“Took your sweet time” Natasha scolds her.

“We got caught up… in something” Yelena explains as Kate joins her. You notice she’s wearing an all black suit, which is a stark contrast to Yelena’s golden, low cut dress.

“Oh, looks like you have a hickey there” you point at a spot in Yelena’s neck, her hand flying to cover it.

“I told you not to…” she glares at Kate, and you laugh.

“She didn’t. But now we know you both were getting nasty”

Natasha laughs as well. Yelena is about to curse at you, when her mother interrupts her.

“Behave” she warns. “Hello, I am Yelena’s mother”

“Kate Bishop” the girl introduces herself, and Melina arches an eyebrow.

“Bishop, as in Bishop Security?”

“Yes, that would be correct” Kate says, visibly awkward.

“Well, I’d love to catch up with your mother. Had I known you’d be here, I would have invited her as well. Next time” Melina nods, leaving as someone calls for her a moment later.

“So, am I the only one who isn’t some sort of nepo baby?” you throw the question in the air, making the Romanoffs roll their eyes.

“I’ll find our seats”

Yelena leaves too, but Kate stays behind, sitting next to you at the bar.

“So…”

“Whisky neat” you ask the bartender as he walks by.

“When are you returning to Westview?” Kate says.

“Make it a doble” you add, sighing. The brunette doesn’t take the hint, though.

“You are returning to Westview, right? Doctor Lewis mentioned your contract is only for three months…”

“Yeah, but I quit. And I doubt Fury will want to hire me again. I was a jerk that left without any notice, all because I couldn’t handle my break up” you mutter against the glass, sipping.

But Kate’s always been curious, questioning everything. It’s what makes her a great student, but right now? She’s a pain in your ass.

“So, what are you doing when the contract…?”

“Jesus, Kate. I don’t know. I try not to plan ahead ever since I bought a ring and fucked up my entire relationship. I had expectations about the future and now I can barely leave my bed. So, when my contract’s done I’ll decide what to do next”

“Right, I’m sorry”

“Kate, come sit” Yelena calls for her, her tone gentle. You look up, meeting hazel eyes that are glaring at you. But you decide to ignore Yelena and keep drinking.

The bartender sneaks out to smoke every ten minutes. Though this last break has been longer and you are in desperate need for more alcohol.

Another woman walks up to the bar, looking around.

“Ugh, I’ll do it myself. What can I get you?” you give up, walking behind the bar. You nod as you listen to the woman ask for a gin tonic. Between sips of your own drink, you pour gin over the ice, add tonic water and lime juice.

“Delicious!” the woman says. “Are you a bartender as well?”

“No, I’m a surgeon, which is why that lemon wedge is so perfectly cut” you joke, raising your glass to clink it against hers. “I’m Y/N”

“Valkyrie” the woman introduces herself. “Which hospital?”

“Stark Hospital” you answer out of habit. Then you shake your head, and clear your throat. “Sorry, meant to say I was at Stark, now I’m at RMC”

“So you must know Maria”

“Rambeau? Yeah, she’s great. I’m actually going to be her fiancee’s bridesmaid” you say, smiling.

“Glad to hear they were able to fix things. I was sad to see her go from the program, though, it was great to have such an experienced Peeds surgeon” she sighs.

“Wait. You’re on Doctor’s Without Borders?”

“Yes, I coordinate international programs. Why? You interested?” the woman smiles.

“Well… my contract is temporary. And I’ve always wanted to do that, but never really had the time or means”

After med school, it took a while for you to settle and pay off your student debt, so even participating in something like that felt like a bit of a luxurious career detour that you couldn’t afford.

But now, with all the money you’re earning -and saving on rent- it could very well be the next step in your career.

“You don’t have to answer right away. Here’s my card” Val says. “Remind me your specialty”

“Trauma”

“Never mind, you’re coming on the next flight with me” she jokes and you laugh.

Someone else calls for her and Val raises her glass, grateful for the drink. As you wave goodbye, you notice yours is painfully empty.

“Can I get some tequila, please?” you ask the bartender, who is finally back. However, Natasha comes out of nowhere, speaking over you.

“She’ll have water or coffee”

“Hey! Are you this controlling with all your dates?”

“Only when I find out my mother wants to put you on the spot in the middle of her speech” she whispers, which makes your eyes widen. “You’re too drunk to be coherent, so better sober up, now”

“What does she even want me to say?” you whisper yell as Natasha takes you to the table.

“That we’re a Level 1 Trauma Center and will continue to be one with your work”

“I’m not staying…”

“She’s hoping that putting you on the spot will awaken some sense of duty. Don’t expect it to make sense” Natasha mutters, sitting next to you.

Kate is to your left, chatting with Yelena, tensing when you sit down next to her.

Melina walks up to the small stage, and people clap as she prepares for her speech.

“Hey, about before…” you lean towards Kate, trying to apologize. Yelena shushes you and you glare. “I’m still your boss, Belova”

“Not tonight” she says, pulling Kate by the hand so she turns to the stage, her back to you.

“Evening’s going great” you grumble next to Natasha.

“I see why you only leave the penthouse to go clubbing”

But you can’t say anyhting as Melina begins her speech, thanking every big donor of the Romanoff foundation, NGOs working to bring awareness about certain diseases and the hospital staff, of course.

“It’s an exciting time for us. We are gearing up to do the second xenotransplant of a genetically altered kidney” Melina pauses when people clap again. “We’re also advancing and innovating in the ER, and as some of you may already know, we have a new…”

“I’m gonna throw up” you complain, hating whenever there’s attention drawn to you.

“Just clap and smile along”

“I’m seriously gonna throw up” you say, regretting the amount of alcohol you drank.

And just as Melina is about to say your name and point towards you, a man walks in the room, shouting.

“Is there a doctor here? We have an emergency!”

—

Wanda’s had quite the day. She’s now barely making it to the hotel, Lily waddling next to her.

“Oh, looks like there’s a fancy gala happening” she points out as they walk across the lobby.

Wanda doesn’t pay attention to that, finally able to check her messages.

The last one was of you saying you’d be out for the evening but that Wanda could call anytime if she needed something.

Honestly, she can’t wait to go up to her room and call you.

Unless…

Did you mean you were out on a date?

Wanda’s still trying to figure out the meaning behind the message when Lily, who was speaking to the receptionist to confirm Wanda’s reservation, laughs nervously.

“Well, looks like my water just broke”

“What did you just say?” Wanda snaps out of it, looking at Lily’s feet. “Well, ok, calm down. It’s gonna be fine. Can we get some help here?”

“What’s wrong?” the concierge asks, but catches on a second later when Lily sits on the floor, breathing heavily. “Oh, crap. Let’s just…”

For some weird reason, he runs to the other room where the fancy event is happening, shouting that they need a doctor.

Half the room turns to look at him and at least an entire table stands up.

“What kind of emergency?”

“A woman’s in labor”

“Ok, show me. Excuse me, ER doctor coming through”

Wanda’s so focused on helping Lily breath, that she doesn’t fully notice what’s happening or rather, who kneels beside her until she hears your voice.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Y/L/N. What’s your name?”

You’re completely immersed in your work, removing your jacket and pulling up the sleeves of your shirt to move around freely.

“Lily. I’m 39 weeks pregnant, should I push?”

“No, no! Absolutely not!” you rush to say, “Let’s call an ambulance, please?”

As you look around the room, seeing who will do as you ask, you finally notice someone who is kneeling next to you. Must be a friend of the woman.

You turn to ask if there’s anyone you should call when you meet those beautiful, green eyes. Ones you’d recognise anywhere.

“Wanda?”

“Hey”

Hey? Seriously?

A whole month thinking about you every second of every god damn day and the best Wanda can do is say hey

Are you fucking kidding me, Maximoff.

“Do you need help?”

“I’m here, I’m her resident”

Even if Yelena and Kate are… whatever they are, they’re still going to compete over getting some cases.

“Check her pulse and time contractions, if there are any” you tell them both, standing up and dragging Wanda with you. “I’m very confused right now. Are the kids ok? Why are you here?”

“It’s kind of a long story… and I, that’s why I texted earlier, but then the day got crazy and you told me you were on a date”

“Not a date” Natasha clarifies, appearing behind you. “Ambulance is here, the hospital’s been alerted. You should ride with them, get out of the speech while you can”

“Thanks” you nod, seeing the EMTs pull over. You turn to Wanda. “Are you coming with her?”

“No, Wanda, stay and get some rest, I made you walk around the city all day” Lily pleads.

“Are you crazy? No one should be doing this alone. I’m coming with you until your boyfriend gets to the hospital” Wanda decides, jumping on the back of the ambulance with Lily and you.

Yelena and Kate scramble to their feet, trying to get on the vehicle as well.

“Ok, it’s a little crowded in here, plus this is your family’s gala and Bishop, you are Yelena’s date. No one else goes”

“Fine” they mutter, disappointed.

The ride to the hospital is silent except for the machines monitoring Lily’s blood pressure. You’re keeping an eye on that, while checking on her heartbeat, using a stethoscope that you found in the ambulance.

“I forgot how good you are at that” Wanda says when your eyes meet again.

“At what? Checking a heartbeat?”

“Handling toddlers”

She’s talking about Yelena and Kate, which makes you laugh.

“Well, Billy and Tommy behave a hell of a lot better than those two back there”

“Not lately” Wanda sighs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess everything up so badly, Wanda” you regret, leaning back.

“Am I missing something? You two know each other?” Lily says, pointing at Wanda and then at you. “Is that why Laura asked me to keep you busy this entire day?”

“She what?”

“We dated” you offer as an explanation, smiling at the woman in the stretcher.

“How long ago? Because you are still giving each other some major heart eyes”

It’s clear that the mild sedative is making the woman spill her every thought.

“Until a month ago”

“Well, whichever one of you screwed up, better get their act together because you’re clearly not over each other” Lily says.

“It was my fault” Wanda says at the same time as you. You both look at each other and you give her a small smile.

“I beg to differ, Miss Maximoff. It was me who got it all wrong”

“Not just you. I messed up real bad” Wanda says, leaning forward.

You’re about to say something else when the ambulance stops, and the doors open. You excuse yourself, giving the nurses and doctors a summary of the patient, walking next to Lily’s stretcher.

“I’ll come find you once she’s settled in a room” you promise Wanda.

She nods, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. What are the odds?

Which also brings her back to what Lily said. Why did Laura want her busy for the entire day?

There’s only one way to find out.

“Hey, how did it go today?” her friend picks up the phone, though it sounds like there’s an echo.

“Am I on speaker?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m cooking dinner” Laura lies.

“Are there children around?”

“No, why…”

“Ok, then what the fuck is going on, Laura?”

Somebody else whistles, and Wanda hears Pietro’s voice.

“Looks like you ladies got caught”

“Why are you there? Who else is around? Somebody better tell me what the hell is going on right now…”

“Give that to me” Darcy says, pushing Laura out of the way. “Hi, nice speaking to you, Maximoff. It’s just me, Laura, your mother and Pietro. Listen, we’ve been busting our asses for you to meet at the right time and find a way to make up with Y/N so I get my best friend back. So don’t fuck it up now, ok?”

“You’re not helping!” Laura protests. “Wanda, what do you mean? What happened today?”

“The minute I landed, Lily drove me around the entire city without a break. Did you manipulate a very pregnant woman to keep me busy and away from Y/N for the day?”

“Well, yeah. She was going with Natasha to the gala and I didn’t want you pulling one of your stunts again, not after getting so far along the plan” Darcy bites back.

“Great, so I crashed her date with Natasha with a woman giving birth. What a loser” Wanda massages her temples.

“Did you just say Lily was givig birth?” Laura says. “Oh, my God! Do you think it was my fault?”

“That’s a possibility, I’m not gonna lie to you” Darcy admits, taking the phone back. “Listen. Work it out with Y/N. Talk, fight, have angry sex, whatever it takes. I need my friend back, and you better grovel on the floor to beg for her forgiveness”

“I want to speak to my mother. Privately” Wanda ignores Darcy, knowing who’s really behind all of this.

“Hello, malyshka” Ekaterina greets, removing the speaker and walking away from Wanda’s kitchen, into the living room. Darcy and Laura put their ears against the door, trying to listen.

Pietro just laughs, shaking his head.

“Mama, you had no right…”

“Wanda? Lily’s in a room now” you call for her.

“This conversation isn’t over” she warns her mother, hanging up. “You wouldn’t believe what I just learned…”

Wanda’s looking down at her phone as she walks towards you, that adorable frown that she makes whenever something upsets her.

She keeps talking, but you’re looking at her lips, remembering how much you love kissing her.

Wanda notices, and she stops talking, but leans forward.

Her lips are so close, and then you hear the worst sound in the world.

“Doctor Y/L/N, your patient is… oooh”

To your missfortune, Ed interrupts you in that precise moment.

Of all people, it had to be the circus clown.

“Get lost, will ya?”

Wanda slaps your arm, but she has no idea how annoying the kid can be.

“She was asking for a Wanda, which I believe might be you…” he points to her.

“Come on” you guide her to Lily’s room. As you walk next to Wanda, you place your hands in your pockets, trying to hold back on reaching out to touch her.

You have no idea why she’s here, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, does it? It was all said and done between you two. If you kiss her, you’ll go back to square one.

“Hey!” Lily greets as soon as you open the door for Wanda. There’s another woman standing next to the bed. She has short, grey hair and a kind smile.

“Wanda! Thank you so much for being there for Lily. I told her she should have been on maternity leave sooner”

“I wanted to find you the perfect artist” Lily sighs, adjusting herself on the bed.

“Doctor, thank you so much for helping Lily” the woman says. You have no idea what’s going on, or why she’s so happy to talk to Wanda.

What you do know is that it’s none of your business.

“Just doing my job. OBGYN will take it from here, as it looks like you’ll have to wait a bit before you’re ready to give birth”

“Your boyfriend’s on the way, right?” the woman asks Lily, and she nods. “We’ll keep you company for a bit, and once he’s here, we could go get something to eat. What do you think, Wanda?”

“Oh, I was…”

But when Wanda looks back, you’re already closing the door.

“Everything ok?” Wendy insists.

“Yeah, everything’s fine”

—

Wanda got the job.

It was hers.

Wendy Lawson was way cooler in person, and didn’t have a problem when Wanda was only half present during their conversation over dinner.

She thought the younger woman was just tired.

And now, back in her room, Wanda finally gets to rest and shower. You’re all she can think about.

It’s one thing to see you in an Instagram post, and another one to be right in front of you.

You seem healthy and happy. Even fitter, your hair longer and a bit of a stronger built. You must spend a lot of time at the gym.

But it’s you, the same smile, those kind eyes and the quiet confidence while you treat patients.

Honestly, Wanda’s very disappointed with herself. She was hoping to have a big speech ready, explain why she was in Boston. Grovel and beg for forgiveness, just like Darcy said.

All she got was an ambulance ride and a quick conversation in a hospital hallway.

As she wears one of your hoodies, and changes into a pair of yoga pants, her phone rings.

“I believe we have a pending conversation” her mother says. She’s not afraid of confrontation, never has been.

“Mama, this is my life. You have no right to…”

“Did I tell you I almost didn’t marry your father?” Ekaterina interrupts her daughter. Wanda stays silent, and the woman takes that as a sign to continue. “Your uncle Arvydas told me about a chance to move to England, work as a nanny for an embassador. I’d rather stay in Sokovia and be with your father, but everyone was telling me what to do or what was better for me. And you know what your father said?”

“No”

“He said I want to marry you. I’ll be at the church on the day we planned and I’ll be waiting. The life with you is the one I want. Now you make a choice, but be sure it’s the one you want for yourself, not what others are telling you to do. And whatever that choice is, I will respect it”

“Yeah, that sounds like something Papa would say”

“My darling, you need to follow your heart. At least get some closure if this is really over. But if she’s really the one you want… fight for her”

“I don’t even know where to begin” Wanda sighs.

“Just find her, the rest will come along”

“Give the boys a kiss for me?”

“One for each” her mother promises, hanging up.

It’s not too late, as Wanda saw some people still at the salon.

She walks out of her room, straight to where the gala is happening.

“Excuse me, could I see your invitation?” a man stops her.

“Oh, I… I don’t have any. I just need to talk to someone inside. It will only take a minute”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you…”

“It’s alright” Natasha says, appearing behind Wanda. “She can come inside, I know her”

The man at the door nods, allowing Wanda to pass.

“She’s over there” Natasha points at you, leaning against the bar and drinking from a glass full of whisky. “Will regret those last few drinks tomorrow morning”

“Thank you” Wanda says, nodding towards Natasha. She’s still not sure how she feels about you and the Russian working together.

But it’s none of her business what you do with other people.

“Hey, Y/N”

You do a doble take, wondering if you’re way too drunk and imagining Wanda’s in front of you.

“Hey, hi. How’s Lily?”

“Good. Her boyfriend was there, they were calling family. Preparing for everything”

“Sounds nice”

“Could we talk?” Wanda asks, before she loses her nerve. “Unless you’re busy”

“No, that’s fine” you down the last of your drink and stand up from the stool. “Let’s go”

Wanda decides it would be nice to get a capuccino from a coffee place nearby. You walk with her, noticing she is definitely not wearing the appropriate coat for this weather.

“Here” you offer yours.

“No, I don’t want you getting sick”

“It’s to protect my hoodie, obviously” you joke and she finally accepts it.

“Remember Wendy Lawson?” Wanda asks.

“The author? Yes, the one who went to give a talk to your school and make you consider writing for the first time”

Of course you remember.

“Well, it’s the woman that was standing right there in the middle of Lily’s room. And she offered me a job to illustrate her new book”

“Hey, that’s huge, congratulations” you say as you open the door to the coffee shop, noticing how warmer and nicer it is inside. You order a hot cocoa, while Wanda gets her own coffee.

“I’ll just have to travel back and forth for a bit”

“But the kids…”

“My mother is in town” Wanda clarifies. There’s so much to tell you, but you’re here, walking next to her, offering your coat and smiling at Wanda. Everything’s a mess in her head.

“So that’s why you are not in town” you joke. “I do hope things are better between you two”

“Well, it’s been a whole thing. But listen, that job is not the only reason I came to Boston” Wanda admits once you’re walking back to the hotel. “I wanted to speak to you”

“Oh, right” you say, scared that she’s here to hand over your stuff and make sure you never have to see each other again.

“Y/N, this last month has been… so bad for me. I can’t stop thinking about you, about those horrible things I said. About how I punished you beyond reason for something that wasn’t your fault. I was angry and instead of processing it, I let it out in childish ways to hurt you. Because I thought it was a way to get even”

“Wanda, you weren’t the only one that screwed up. I didn’t set boundaries with Nat. And then made you feel insane when you pointed it out” you sigh, looking at your feet. “I don’t know. Maybe we should have given this a bit of a break after that, instead of rushing back to the same routine, pretending nothing hapened”

“Well, now we had a break. An entire month to think about it, and I thought about it, even when I tried not to. Y/N, I love you. And I want… I want our future together”

You sigh, thinking about it.

Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Getting Wanda back.

But you made the same mistake last time. You simply said you were sorry and jumped back in.

“Do you ever think we rushed things?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we kinda started dating, and I spent every moment in your house because I lived across the street. And then coparenting. I love the kids but I hate myself for hurting them when we broke up”

“So…” Wanda stops outside the hotel, looking at you. She can’t read you right now; all the things you said so far make sense, but they could be arguments to either work on your relationship or call it quits.

“So… let’s date. For a bit” you decide. “Because if we go back to how everything was, and the twins get their hopes up…”

If I get my hopes up.

“That makes sense” Wanda nods.

“But there’s one thing you should know. I work with Natasha and live in the same building as her. I’m not saying we’re best friends or spend every moment together, but we’re in the same room a lot of times”

“I get it. And I appreciate the heads up”

“Alright then. Let's take it slow, then” you nod, walking towards her. “You should head back inside and get some rest”

“What about you?”

“I’ll take a cab home”

“My room’s big enough…”

You interrupt Wanda with a small laugh, walking so close that your lips are inches apart.

“I said slow, Miss Maximoff”

“Since when are you immune to my puppy eyes?” Wanda huffs, crossing her arms.

“I’m not” you shake your head. "Which is why you should really go inside. Now”

Wanda’s eyes travel to your lips and you lean forward, until… you kiss the corner of her mouth.

“Trust me, it will be worth the wait” you smile against her temple.

“Goodnight, Y/N”

“Night, Wands”

[sentientcave]

Swallow My Pride

Simon spots you across the bar. You're a long way from the little girl that used to torment him in primary, but that's alright. These days he's got a soft spot for beautiful men.

Contains: FtM!Reader, Reader bullied Simon in primary school, alcohol/bar mention, smoking, oral sex (Simon receiving), Reader has hair long enough to pull a little, Implied fibre arts, abrupt ending because I wasn't gonna get into all that. Maybe later.

1.1k ~ MDNI ~ 18+

It figured that you'd be gorgeous now.

He almost didn't recognize you. Probably would have missed you entirely if not for the long, searching glance you'd given him, like he was familiar too. Back then you were a skinny, mouthy little bitch that made his life miserable until you moved away, and now you were a handsome, self-assured man, filled out strong and a little soft. Standing with your friends, laughing. They obviously didn't know that you were a venomous little viper under that easy smile and oversized, hand-knit sweater with wonky cables on the front.

The lads noticed his silence and singular focus. Johnny started acting up some, like he always did when Simon paid too much attention to another man.

"Y'gonna talk to the pretty boy?" he asked, exasperated. "Or jest leer at'm all night?"

"If you don't, I might," Gaz said. "It's cold out these days and he looks like he's comfortable to have a lie in with."

"Fine. I'll talk to 'im." Simon stood and shouldered his way over to you, cutting a swathe through the crowd of people lingering by the bar, and put a big hand on your shoulder. "Wanna talk t'you," he rumbled. "Follow me."

"Hey, what the fuck," one of your friends said hotly. "Don't be rude."

Simon glared at her, ready to snap, but you quickly put yourself between. "It's okay. I know him."

Simon steered you outside and shoved you up against the wall. "Recognize me, do you?"

"Of course. Thought you were dead, though. Saw you here a couple months back. Kept coming back, thinking I had to be nuts." You tilt your head to the side. "I'm surprised you recognize me."

"Maybe I wouldn't've, if I'd ever seen you as a woman. But we were kids. You've changed, but I know you."

You had been the worst thing in his life, outside of his home. Quick to point out his hand-me-downs and his shaggy hair, to knock things out of his hands. If you’d been a boy back then, he would have just punched your lights out, but even then he knew better than to hit a girl. You were fair game for a fight now, as far as he was concerned, but he wasn’t really that interested in fighting. Especially when you were giving him that kicked puppy stare, regret written all over your face.

Regret was a powerful motivator, and he liked the idea of you trying to make it right. He liked the idea of seeing what he could get out of it too.

"I never got to apologize. When I heard-- Fuck, you've been through it. Apologies don't seem like enough." You look at him, big eyes and soft mouth. So fucking pretty.

"It's not enough. Don't want to 'ear it anyway. Want to make it up to me?" He waits for your nod, then reaches for his belt. "Suck me off. Right 'ere."

You look stunned for a moment. He expected to to stalk off back inside-- He didn't really want an apology, didn't think there was any making up for it, not really. Just wanted to push your buttons a bit, more than anything else.

But you dropped to your knees on the dirty ground, and waited, patient as a well trained dog. "Good boy," Simon grunted, pulling out his cock. He liked the way your big eyes got bigger, a gleam of want in them. You'd grown up to be a proper slag. He slapped his cock against your cheek, and you turned to catch it, sliding your lips and tongue along the side.

"This why you 'ad t'be such a cunt back then?" he asked, grabbing your hair to keep you from sinking your mouth down onto his cock. "Wanted me so bad an' couldn't say so?"

You glare at him from the ground. "Do you want the apology or the head, Riley?"

"Makin' me choose, are you?" He let go of your hair, however, his laugh turning to a groan as you sucked the head of his cock into your hot mouth, tongue lapping at his slit to taste the bead of bitter precum.

He was going to be more of a dick about it, but he couldn't get a word in. You worked his cock like you were made for it, working your hand over the shaft when you lapped at the tip, swallowing around him when you sank all the way down, taking him into your throat, bobbing your head back and forth, spit dribbling down your chin and his balls, messy, like you knew that was just how he liked it.

He managed to communicate that he was going to cum, enough that you let him pop free and pump his come onto your waiting tongue, purposely missing a little, his come glistening on your cheek and caught just slightly in your hair. You swallow, grimacing slightly at the taste.

"You ever eat anythin' that has a lick of nutritional value?" you gripe, using your fingers to scrape his come off your cheek and into your mouth anyway.

"Get your trousers off an' I'll eat your cunt," he offered, groaning again when you sucked him into your mouth again, cleaning off the mess. "If y’still ‘ave one. Christ. I'm takin' you 'ome either way." He lit a cigarette, glancing at the door when it pushed open, ready to bark, relaxing when he realized it was just Soap and Gaz. "Hey, lads."

You side eyed them, but you finished your job first, sitting back on your heels and wiping your mouth with your sleeve as Simon tucked himself away again. Gaz and Soap stood there, gaping like fish until you stood up.

"That's gotta be a record," Gaz said. "You haven't been gone ten minutes."

"Well, pretty boy knows what 'e likes." Simon dropped a hand on top of your head and pulled you close to his side before you could duck out of the conversation. "Don't go, pup. Figure you owe the lads an apology too. You're the reason I'm so mean, and they've 'ad t'deal with it all this time." He slid his hand down the side of your face and hooked his fingers into your mouth roughly. "What d'you think?"

You look at the other two. Gaz was trying to look nonplussed as he lit his cigarette, but there was no hiding the hungry gleam in his eyes. Soap wasn't even bothering to be subtle. He looked you up and down, palming himself through his jeans.

You shove Simon's hand out of your mouth, grinning. "Oh, he's been real mean, has he?"

Soap stepped in closer, his fingers hooking into your pocket to reel himself in next to you. "He's been a nightmare. Yeh gonna make up for it?"

"Can try. Riley's always been pretty determined t'be a cunt though. It's not all my fault."

“Need to say goodbye to your friends?” Gaz asked.

“Nah. It was a date. Didn’t really like them anyway. Felt like they were just looking for a compromise between addin’ a man or a woman to their failing marriage. Not really keen to get into all that. This sounds more fun.”

Simon chuckled. “Good choice, pup. Let’s get goin’.”

I've been rotating this thought in my mind since I read this fic by @/soapcloth about Soap being Reader's childhood bully. Read that, and then all the other stuff they've posted because there's some very fun stuff and I highly recommend their work.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[impulsivelycontentious]

My dad absolutely thought it was Mind games; he believed that because HE understood implicitly what the rules were I did too and when I didn't follow them it was put of spite or laziness.

Right so this is gonna be just childhood unhappiness stuff.

I was 15 when he yelled at me on the street "You'll never amount to anything if you don't learn to talk to people," and he meant 'if you don't stop acting the way you do because you are a bad person'. But he never even considered teaching me how to talk to people. Not once. He only ever punished me for doing it wrong.

I will never be like him. And EVENTUALLY he came to understand that everything he hated about me was my autism. He did apologize. Not specifically; he didn't have a memory like mine, I doubt he remembered many specific events, but in general.

It was good enough.

He wasn't a man who should have had children. My mother wanted children because she had ideas about how idyllic life could be if she had a little boy and a little girl who would love her unconditionally and she could just ignore them in their room when she didn't feel like doing the work.

If that sounds childish it's because my mother was a teen mother. Twice. She WAS being childish. But we were planned and it was her idea.

My dad just went with it because she wanted it. He was an absent father, and once when I confronted him with my mother's behavior - I must have been about 7 - I asked him why he loved her more than us. And he said "because she's my wife". Which was the exact age I came to understand I would never be much of a priority to my father and he didn't want to be a dad.

So combine that with an autistic child back in the 80s. And then slap on that my dad is HYPER SOCIAL. He's AMAZING. He can fit in in any room he walks in to. People love him. He loves people. He worked as a security guard my whole life and he never once physically attacked anyone. He could talk the spots off a leopard.

And he had an autistic kid who really, really couldn't do social ques. And who had limited facial expressions and body language. He hated it so much and because of course he didn't want to be a dad he had no patience for it and reverted to the norm for his childhood - punish the child until they figure it out.

We don't have much of an adult relationship.

[totalswag]

!unexpected surprise! ☆ drew starkey ☆ chapter one

authors note first chapter of my series omg!

summary in which you're cautious when Drew Starkey sneaks into your DMs following a casual encounter at a party. he is well-known for his role in a popular tv show and movies—has millions of fans. the two of you start communicating quietly, slipping minutes between his hectic schedule and your social media responsibilities. the secrecy adds to the excitement, but as the media learns about your link, it becomes increasingly difficult to hide.

series taglist

You are well-known in the social media world. You've been given the opportunity to build close relationships with your supporters—to develop a family and be yourself. Features everything from trip vlogs to fashion hauls, insightful conversations, and humorous content. Your work has built up a big following, with which businesses compete to cooperate. However, you value privacy and provide just the most basic information to your supporters.

Eight o'clock rolls around. Stella gets to your apartment dressed and ready for the night. Before heading out, you both walked to the kitchen to get your pre-game drinks made. Music playing from your speaker sitting on the table in the living room⎯keeping the energy high. 

Tonight you are wearing a jeans with a black tank top with a red heart in the middle along with a cute jacket. Hair and makeup was a little different for the night. Of course, you needed your earrings and twi necklaces. You felt good about yourself.

"No joke, I've been rummaging through my closet for a good outfit," you say as you place the cups down. "I'm not sure why I'm having this strange feeling, but," pause, "who knows what it is about," shaking your head.

"Maybe you'll find your future lover?" she exclaimed dramatically, twisting the cap of the tequila bottle. She put the shots into two tiny glasses. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" she mocked, offering you a shot.

"How can I refuse" you say, smirking and clinking your glasses together.

Stella has been your best friend for seven years, and you are forever grateful to her. She's the type of friend that would drop everything in a moment to be with you and ensure you have a nice time. Her quirky characteristics will make you giggle until your abs hurt.

The drive to the party took twenty minutes. By the time Stella and you get to the neighborhood gate and are let inside, she has taken a few turns and there are several cars parked on the side. Fortunately, Stella found the right spot near the house.

The house was already alive with energy⎯music blared through the air, and groups of people huddled around in conversation, drinks in hand. Stella and you strolled through the crowd of people, her enthusiasm clear. "There they are!" She waved to a small gathering near the kitchen.

One of the girls in the group, carrying a drink, looked over her shoulder, her face lighting up with a smile as she noticed you both going over. "Oh my gosh, so glad you could make it!" Her voice was full of enthusiasm, “I’m Leah and this is Jake.”

"Nice to meet you both, I'm Y/N, and thank you for inviting us," you say politely, shaking each of their hands in a soft gesture. 

As the night continued on, you and Stella stayed by each other. Got the chance to introduce yourselves to new faces around the party and strike conversations. Saw a few familiar faces you’ve worked with before too. Leah and Jake were extremely amazing, keeping you laughing non-stop with their jokes.

And then he walked in.

Drew Starkey.

You spotted him right away⎯tall, effortlessly calm, and commanding without trying. He was deep in conversation with a few people before making his way to where you stood, drink in hand. You weren’t expecting him to actually walk up to you either. 

Before you could blink, he’s standing in front of you, “hey, I don’t think we’ve ever met before, I’m Drew” putting his hand out, smiling softly.

Drew Starkey is talking to me? You think to yourself.

“Y/N,” you carefully say, maintaining eye contact.

Conversation begins between you two. It felt so usual for you, and you didn't feel nervous at all⎯you felt serene, as you put it. The way he focused his attention on you and not anybody else made your tummy flutter⎯as if you two were the only ones in the room. Drew was easy to talk to.

Something about the way his eyes lingered suggested he was intrigued. The conversation between you two was comfortable and natural—even when people walked around the party, he remained, inquiring about what you did and why you came here.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do?” he carefully asks⎯it was obvious he didn’t want to go overboard.

Chuckling softly, running your hands through your hair, “I guess you could say I’m in the entertainment industry” you playfully hint, grinning. 

Raising his eyebrows in amusement, tilting his head back, “looks like I’m gonna have to find out another time then?” he asks with confidence⎯you like it.

Before he left your side, he pulled out his phone. “What’s your Instagram?”

You told him, watching as he followed you without hesitation. “Guess I have some catching up to do.”

Later that night, when you got back to your apartment, your phone buzzed with a notification. Stella's eyes nearly fell out their sockets when she glanced at your screen.

drewstarkey followed you.

drewstarkey sent you a message.

This was going to be interesting.

"Shut the fuck up" you both gasped.

series taglist

@akobx @ethanthequeefqueen

[moongirlcleo]

Behind Locked Doors

Tags: College Academy AU, Seven Minutes in Heaven, Closet Sex, Aftercare, Mutual Pining, Childhood friends to lovers, Betting Pool, Happy Ending, Crack, Fluff and Smut AN: Check out all of my works on AO3! -> | link

🔞NSFW content - Minors DNI 🔞 Dividers: @cafekitsune Fic: @moongirlcleo

A college academy party. A few too many drinks. And one very bold game of Truth or Dare.

You and Caleb have always been close—friends since childhood, growing up together, and maybe, just maybe, something more. At least, that’s what Patrick seems to think when he shoves the two of you into a closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven. It’s all fun and games… until you both realize just how much you’ve been holding back.

Seven minutes? Not nearly enough.

The common room buzzed with an easygoing energy, full of laughter from old friends who'd weathered storms together. It was a rare celebration at Deepspace Aviation Academy, thrown by the graduating class where no one worried about schedules or debriefs. Caleb had invited you and Tara to this weekend party in Skyhaven, and you couldn't resist the chance to see him again.

You stood near the bar, idly running a finger along the rim of your glass, letting your eyes flick over the scene. Patrick was deep in conversation with another pilot, hands animated as he explained something undoubtedly flight-related. Timothy was engaged in a betting game with a few mechanics, exchanging cocky smirks and easy credits. And then there was Caleb—

His laugh rang out over the room, easy and uninhibited as he slung an arm around one of his squadmates, shaking his head at whatever nonsense had just been said. He was still the same Caleb you had known since your childhood—steadfast, warm, effortlessly charismatic.

And yet, something about him felt different tonight. Or maybe that was just you.

It wasn’t that you’d never noticed him before—of course you had. He’d been one of your closest friends, your anchor in more ways than one. But lately, there had been moments, small and fleeting, where the air between you felt charged. A glance held a second too long. The brush of his fingers when he handed you something. The way his smile softened just a little more when it was directed at you.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to think too much about it. Because if you did—if you acknowledged that maybe, just maybe, there was something there—you might not be able to ignore it anymore.

You’d known Caleb since scraped knees and stolen sweets, since racing each other across sun-drenched fields and climbing too-high fences just because he dared you to. He was always a step ahead—faster, bolder, never afraid to leap before looking. And you? You were right behind him, following his reckless lead, because that’s just how it had always been.

Growing up together meant knowing him better than most people ever would. You knew the way his grin tilted when he was up to something, the way his brows furrowed when he was deep in thought, the way he always—always—kept an eye on you, even when you pretended not to notice.

But there were things you hadn’t seen back then.

Like the way his gaze lingered when you weren’t looking. The way his teasing always felt just a little too careful, as if he was trying to keep from saying something he couldn’t take back. The way, over the years, his hand always found the small of your back, guiding you through crowds, protective without ever needing to say it.

You had always been his person. And maybe, just maybe, he had always been yours.

But neither of you ever said it.

"Alright, listen up, people!" Patrick clapped his hands together, standing on the edge of the lounge area with the kind of mischievous energy that made you instinctively wary. "We need to spice up the night."

A chorus of groans and amused sighs rippled through the group, but nobody actually stopped him.

"Truth or Dare," he announced, a grin creeping onto his face. "Classic, right? A little nostalgia never hurt anyone."

Timothy was the first to cheer in agreement, already eager to cause chaos. Others followed, some reluctantly, some with amusement, but nobody outright refused.

You took a slow sip of your drink. This is going to be a mess.

At first, the dares were all in good fun—Timothy had to send a ridiculous voice message to a superior officer, Patrick had to recite the Academy Code while doing a handstand, and even the normally-reserved Gideon got roped into taking a shot without making a face (he failed, naturally).

It was just a game. A silly, familiar game.

Until Patrick turned to you.

His eyes sparkled with something unreadable. “Alright, you. Truth or dare?”

You opened your mouth, instinctively ready to pick the safer option—truth, obviously—but before you could, a voice chimed in.

"Dare," Caleb said.

Your head snapped toward him.

There was nothing particularly suggestive about the way he said it, no teasing lilt to his tone, but there was a quiet certainty in his voice that made your pulse stutter.

Patrick beamed.

"Perfect," he hummed, barely missing a beat. "You and Caleb—Seven Minutes in Heaven."

The room reacted. Whistles, laughter, someone (probably Tara) dramatically gasping. Caleb merely huffed a quiet chuckle, shaking his head, but he wasn’t protesting.

Your stomach did something strange. “That’s a little childish, don’t you think?”

Patrick shrugged, all innocence. “Nostalgia night, remember? You gotta follow the rules.”

You glanced at Caleb, expecting at least some resistance, but he just smiled—casual, relaxed, as if this was just another dare, no different from any other.

Except it was different. You felt it.

"Well?" Patrick raised a brow. "You gonna back out?"

Backing out meant drawing more attention to it. Backing out meant making it a thing. And if Caleb wasn’t overthinking it, why should you?

You sighed, setting your drink down. "Fine."

The group cheered as you and Caleb were herded toward a nearby supply closet, Patrick pushing the door open with way too much enthusiasm. It wasn’t large, but it was enough—enough for two people, enough to be alone.

"You guys be good in there," Patrick teased, winking before shutting the door behind you.

The lock clicked.

And then—silence.

You exhaled slowly, pressing your back against the wall, trying to steady your heartbeat. Seven minutes. That’s all this was.

Across from you, Caleb shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. His expression was unreadable, a far cry from the usual easy grins.

Seven minutes.

You swallowed.

Seven minutes had never felt so long.

The closet was just small enough that every shift, every breath, every slight movement was noticeable. Your back pressed against the metal paneling, the faint scent of aviation fuel and old flight manuals filling the space. The air between you and Caleb was warm, thick—not from lack of oxygen, but from something much, much heavier.

You cleared your throat, forcing a casual tone. “So, uh... what exactly are we supposed to be doing in here?”

Caleb huffed a quiet laugh, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The movement made the fabric of his shirt pull just enough to highlight the muscle underneath. Unfair.

“Well,” he drawled, eyes glinting with amusement, “traditionally, I think we’re supposed to make out.”

You scoffed, but your stomach flipped hard. “Traditionally? That’s a childish thing.”

“Yeah, but the game’s called Seven Minutes in Heaven,” he countered, shifting slightly. The space was tight enough that when he moved, he got closer, just a fraction. “Not Seven Minutes of Staring at Each Other Awkwardly.”

You bit your lip, pretending to consider. “You make a compelling argument.”

“Right?” His grin was easy, teasing. But there was something else lurking beneath it—something softer, something more cautious. As if he was waiting for you to set the pace.

It was classic Caleb. He might have been bold in battle, charging headfirst on flight paths, but when it came to you, he was always careful. Like he’d rather die than risk making you uncomfortable.

That thought made something warm curl low in your stomach.

You tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “We could just sit here and talk. Catch up.”

Caleb smirked. “Yeah? You wanna talk inches away from my face in a dark closet while my friends wait for us to come out looking disheveled?”

Your lips twitched. “You got a better idea?”

“Oh, plenty,” he murmured, and suddenly, suddenly, you were hyper-aware of how close he really was.

He wasn’t touching you—not yet—but you could feel him. His warmth, his presence, the way his voice dipped just a little lower, turning the game into something a little less playful.

And you? You didn’t want to laugh it off.

You let out a slow breath, tilting your head. “Alright, big shot,” you teased, voice softer now. “If we’re playing by the rules… why don’t you make a move?”

Caleb was done hesitating.

His grip on your thighs tightened as he pressed you harder against the wall of the closet, his hips slotting perfectly against yours. You could feel him—solid, hot, unmistakably interested—and the realization sent a pulse of heat straight through you.

You let out a quiet, shuddering breath. "Caleb—"

The moment his name left your lips, something in him snapped.

His mouth crashed against yours, no second-guessing, just pure, pent-up want. He kissed you like he was starving, like he’d been holding back for years, and now that he had you here, pressed up against him, wrapped around him, he wasn’t wasting a single second.

His tongue slid against yours, slow but firm, coaxing a desperate little moan from your throat before you could stop it. The sound made his grip tremble—like he was using every ounce of willpower to keep himself in check.

You, on the other hand? You had no such restraint.

Your hands fisted in his uniform shirt, yanking him closer, pressing your hips forward just enough to get the friction you needed. The sharp inhale he took was rewarding—so much so that you did it again, rolling against him just slightly, testing.

Caleb growled.

His fingers dug into your thighs, dragging you down against him properly, making sure you felt him. "You play dirty," he murmured against your lips, but there was no real complaint, just a teasing sort of approval.

You smirked, breathless. "You like it."

His response was a sharp nip to your bottom lip, followed by a deep, rolling grind of his hips against yours. You gasped, hands tightening in his hair as sparks shot through your veins.

"I love it," he corrected.

His mouth moved down, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down the column of your throat. He savored the way you squirmed, how your fingers curled against the back of his neck, how your thighs clenched tighter around his waist with every teasing graze of his teeth against your skin.

"Caleb—"

He shushed you with another slow grind, making you whimper. "Shh, pipsqueak," he murmured, voice rough, hot against your pulse. "You wouldn’t wanna let Patrick and the others hear you, would you?"

It was cruel, the way he asked—low, teasing, edged with something dark and thrilled at the idea of getting away with this while half the academy was just beyond his door.

You swallowed thickly, chest heaving. "You’re awful."

Caleb chuckled against your skin, warm and wicked. "Nah," he countered, giving your thigh a playful squeeze. "I’m just makin’ sure we play by the rules."

He let out a low, rough chuckle, dragging his lips down your throat, your collarbone, as his hands slid further up your thighs, thumbs brushing the edge of your underwear. His grip was firm, his fingers pressing possessively into the soft skin of your legs as he lifted you higher, positioning you exactly where he wanted.

The friction was torturous, enough to make your thighs squeeze around his waist, enough to pull a sharp, wanting gasp from your lips.

He groaned at the sound, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he rolled his hips again, slow, deliberate, making you feel just how much he wanted you.

"Fuck," he rasped, barely keeping himself together. "You feel so damn good."

You whimpered, fingers threading tighter into his hair, tugging just to hear that desperate little growl again.

Then, with a smirk, you tilted your head, lips brushing against his ear. "So, Caleb..." you purred, voice dripping with challenge. "Are you gonna do something about it?"

His breath hitched, grip tightening—and just like that, the last thread of restraint snapped.

Caleb crashed his lips against yours again, hungrier, needier, pressing you so hard against the wall that you swore you could feel it vibrate. His hands roamed, dragging up your thighs, gripping the fabric of your underwear like he was seconds from tearing them clean off—

And then, just as his fingers hooked into the waistband—

A loud, teasing knock on the door shattered the moment.

"Times up, lovebirds!" Patrick’s sing-song voice rang out, full of mischief. "Hope you two had fun in there~!"

Caleb froze, forehead dropping against your shoulder as he let out a long, deep groan—this one purely of frustration.

You let out a breathless, wrecked little laugh, hands still tangled in his hair, still aching for him. "You have to be kidding me."

Caleb exhaled, then lifted his head, eyes dark, lips swollen, body still pressed hard against yours, as his hand fell to your thigh.

He smirked, but it was dangerous.

Caleb didn’t move. Didn’t even acknowledge Patrick’s taunting voice on the other side of the door.

Neither did you.

Because in the heat of it all, in the way his breath ghosted over your lips, the way his hands still gripped your thighs like he wasn’t ready to let go—there was no way in hell either of you were stopping now.

Patrick could wait.

You arched against him, fingers tightening in his hair, dragging his mouth back down to yours in a searing kiss—one that made it perfectly clear you had no intention of leaving this room any time soon.

Caleb groaned into it, deep and rough, pressing you harder into the wall as his hands roamed—gripping, pulling, claiming like he was making up for every second you’d spent dancing around this, for every moment wasted not doing this sooner.

Patrick knocked again, louder this time. "Helloooo? Are you guys alive in there? Or just— are you actually—?!"

"Busy," Caleb growled, voice low, gravelly as he tore his lips from yours just long enough to shout back. "Go away."

You bit back a breathless laugh, but it turned into a sharp gasp when he rolled his hips against yours, the slow, teasing drag of his hard length making your head spin.

Patrick snorted. "Busy, huh? Ohhh, I knew it." His voice was full of mischief, but he didn’t knock again.

Didn’t matter.

Because you weren’t listening.

You were too lost in the feeling of Caleb’s hands slipping beneath the hem of your dress, fingers grazing against the sensitive skin of your thighs.

"You sure?" he murmured, voice thick with restraint, with the barely held-back need burning in his eyes.

You didn’t hesitate. "I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life."

That was all he needed.

Caleb smirked, tilting his head slightly. “You in a rush to get out of here?”

You swallowed, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt. “Not exactly.”

His grip on you flexed slightly before he moved, backing you against the wooden panels of the closet, pressing just enough of his weight against you to make your breath hitch. His knee slid between your thighs, parting them just slightly, not enough to satisfy, but enough to make your skin prickle with heat.

“Good,” he murmured, his lips ghosting along the corner of your mouth. “Because I don’t think I’m done with you.”

The kiss was slow, deliberate—Caleb taking his time as if savoring something he’d been waiting for too damn long to have. His lips were soft but insistent, drawing a quiet gasp from you when he deepened it, pressing you further against the wall with an almost lazy kind of dominance.

His hands wandered, one slipping beneath the hem of your top, fingertips ghosting up your spine in a way that had your stomach tightening. The other drifted lower, teasing over your hip, fingers grazing just below your waistband before retreating yet again, as if daring you to ask for more.

You arched into him, impatience curling in your gut. “Tease,” you breathed against his mouth.

Caleb chuckled, low and full of promise. “I like watching you get all worked up, pipsqueak.” His lips trailed lower, down the curve of your jaw, to the sensitive spot just below your ear, where he nipped lightly before soothing it with his tongue. “Besides,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick, “we’ve got seven minutes, right?”

You barely bit back a laugh, but it turned into a sharp inhale when his hand finally moved lower, palming over the heat between your thighs.

“We’re already over time, and you know it,” you managed, trying to keep some semblance of control despite the way your knees nearly buckled.

With one sharp tug, your panties were gone, slipped down your thighs and tossed somewhere behind him. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him, the press of his clothed length against your bare core making you moan into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Caleb breathed, dragging his lips down your throat, sucking lightly at your pulse point as he worked his pants open with one hand. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, needing more. “Then stop waiting, Caleb.”

His breath hitched.

Caleb groaned, deep and needy, the sound vibrating against your throat as he finally freed himself from his pants. His cock, thick and aching, pressed hot against your bare core, teasing, tempting—making you feel just how much he wanted this.

Wanted you.

His fingers dug into your hips, restraining himself even as he rocked against you, letting you feel the heavy, solid weight of him. “Fuck, you’re so warm,” he rasped, his forehead pressing to yours, his breath fanning over your lips. “Been dreamin’ about this for years.”

Your nails raked down his arms, feeling the ripple of muscle beneath his skin, the tension he was barely holding back. It sent heat coiling low in your belly, made you throb for him.

“Then don’t make me wait any longer,” you murmured, reaching between you, wrapping your fingers around him, feeling the silky heat of his cock as you guided him to where you needed him most.

Caleb shuddered, his grip tightening, and then—

He pushed in.

A sharp gasp tore from your lips as he stretched you, slow and deliberate, giving you just enough time to adjust to the size of him, the sheer, delicious burn of him sinking deeper.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing into your shoulder as he bottomed out, your walls squeezing around him. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You clenched around him, making him curse under his breath, his fingers tightening their grip. “So do you,” you whispered, tilting his chin up so his gaze met yours, lidded, hungry. “So move.”

That snapped something in him.

With a low growl, Caleb snapped his hips forward, setting a slow, deep rhythm, making sure you felt every thick, delicious inch of him with every thrust.

You gasped, nails raking down his back, thighs tightening around his waist.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, letting your head fall back against the door as he moved inside you, hitting spots that made your toes curl. “Caleb—”

His teeth sank into your neck, his breath hot, shaky. “Say my name like that again,” he rasped, rolling his hips, dragging another helpless moan from you. “Say it just like that, baby.”

You did.

Over and over.

Caleb's pace turned ruthless, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, anchoring you to him as he slammed into you. The air in the tiny closet was thick, sweltering, filled with the obscene sounds of skin meeting skin, of your breathless moans and his deep, needy groans.

“Fuck, baby,” he gritted, his forehead pressing against yours, sweat dripping down his temple. “You’re squeezin’ me so damn tight—gonna make me lose my mind.”

You were already losing yours.

The way he stretched you, filled you completely, the way every roll of his hips hit that devastating spot inside you—it was overwhelming, intoxicating. Your nails raked down his back, desperate, pleading, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

And maybe he was.

“Caleb—fuck—I’m so close,” you gasped, your body tightening, trembling, your toes curling as pleasure coiled low in your stomach, tightening, building.

His jaw clenched, his thrusts turning erratic, more desperate, more needy. “I got you, baby,” he rasped, slipping a hand between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, perfect circles. “Come for me—wanna feel you come all over my cock.”

That was all it took.

Pleasure exploded through you, hot and blinding, crashing over you in waves so powerful you swore you saw stars. Your walls clenched around him, hard and tight, and Caleb snapped, his groan raw, wrecked, as he thrust deep one last time, filling you with everything he had.

His body trembled against yours, his breath coming out in heavy, shaky pants as he slumped forward, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your throat, anywhere he could reach.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, laughing, dazed, pressing his forehead to yours. “That was—”

“Yeah,” you whispered, equally breathless, equally wrecked. “It was.”

The knock on the closet door came again, louder, impatient.

“Seriously?!” Patrick’s voice practically groaned through the wood. “I know you guys just fucked, but we are literally at the academy! Open the damn door already!”

Caleb groaned, burying his face in your shoulder. “We are never livin’ this down.”

You giggled, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, still buzzing from the high. “Nope,” you agreed, smiling against his skin. “But hey… at least we finally stopped dancing around this, huh?”

He lifted his head, looking at you with something warm, something fond, something dangerous brewing behind those stormy violet eyes.

“Yeah,” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours in a slow, teasing kiss.

“We definitely did.”

The charged air between you and Caleb had finally settled, leaving nothing but the soft echoes of your breaths and the lingering heat of what had just happened. The space around you was still dark, still cramped, the scent of him—woodsy, clean, with a faint trace of jet fuel—filling the tiny closet.

Your legs still trembled slightly where they straddled his lap, your forehead resting against his as you both tried to catch your breath. Caleb's hands, once gripping you like he couldn’t get enough, now traced slow, soothing circles along your hips, grounding you.

“You okay?” he murmured, voice rougher than usual, but laced with something softer.

You exhaled a slow, satisfied sigh, letting your fingers trail along the back of his neck. “Yeah. Just… wow.”

That cocky smirk of his made a reappearance, but it was gentler this time, more fond than teasing. “Yeah?” His nose brushed against yours as he leaned in, pressing the faintest kiss to your cheek, then another to your jaw. “Didn’t push too much, did I?”

You shook your head, letting your weight sink against him, completely content in the way he held you. “No, you were perfect.”

Caleb hummed, running a hand down your back before reaching for something behind you. In his hands was a discarded jacket that must’ve fallen from one of the coathangers when you’d gotten pushed inside. With careful movements, he slipped it over your shoulders, tucking you into the worn fabric as if the walls of the closet weren’t already pressing you both together. “Here. Can’t have you going out there looking too wrecked, now can I.”

You snorted, nuzzling into his chest. “Oh, please. They’re going to be insufferable either way by the sound of Patrick’s voice.”

He chuckled, fingers threading lazily through your hair. “Yeah, but at least I can pretend I left you with some dignity.”

You smirked against his shirt. “How thoughtful of you.”

A few moments passed in comfortable silence, the distant chatter from the party still going strong just beyond the closet door. Caleb’s fingers idly trailed along your arm, his touch light, reassuring. “You wanna go out there yet, or…?”

You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze, eyes gleaming with mischief despite the spent, satisfied haze in them. “What, you want round two in here, flyboy?”

His grin turned downright wolfish. “Tempting.” He leaned in, brushing his lips over yours again, slow, savoring. “But I think I’d rather take my time when we don’t have half our friends waiting outside, ears pressed to the door.”

You sighed dramatically. “So considerate.”

He gave your thigh a playful squeeze before shifting beneath you, sighing. “Alright, pipsqueak, you ready to face the wolves?”

You let out a groan, already dreading the inevitable teasing, but gave a nod as you took your panties from his outstretched arm.

“Let’s get this over with.”

The moment you and Caleb stepped out of the closet, the common area of the academy dorm erupted.

A chorus of whistles, cheers, and over-the-top applause filled the air, drowning out the hum of music still playing in the background. Drinks sloshed over the rims of glasses as your so-called friends—traitorous and utterly entertained—howled with laughter at what they had just witnessed. Well, heard, really.

Patrick was the first to greet you, grinning like he had just won the jackpot. “Damn, Wings, that was some first-class fucking in there,” he teased, elbowing Caleb hard in the ribs. “The whole common room heard you two trying to ‘navigate the landing.’”

Your stomach dropped, face burning instantly. “Oh my god—”

Caleb, the menace, didn’t even flinch. He just chuckled, rolling his shoulders back as if he hadn’t just been thoroughly railing you in a closet like some reckless cadet. His lavender eyes gleamed with mischief. “What can I say? I’m a hands-on kind of pilot.”

The crowd groaned at his shameless delivery, but it only made him smirk wider.

“You weren’t even trying to be quiet,” another voice—Oliver—piped up from the couch, sprawled out like he owned the place. “I mean, come on. We gave you seven minutes, and you give us the entire x-rated flick?”

“I should’ve recorded it,” Thomas added, sighing. “A missed opportunity for paypack.”

You smacked your hands over your face, wishing the ground would just swallow you whole. Caleb, however, was still far too relaxed, one hand casually resting on his hip while the other brushed against your lower back, fingers barely grazing your skin—a quiet, private reminder that he was still right there.

Across the room, Tara, ever the voice of reason, simply shook her head as she swirled her drink. “You two have been dancing around each other for years. You do realize that, right?”

Silence fell over the group.

Everyone’s eyes snapped toward you and Caleb.

The air between you thickened, the weight of the moment pressing down. Caleb’s smirk hadn’t faded, but his expression had shifted slightly—softer now, more deliberate. His fingers at your back pressed just a little firmer as he tilted his head, stormy eyes watching you with quiet amusement.

“Well?” he mused, voice low, teasing. “Think we should make it official, pipsqueak?”

Your stomach flipped.

You wanted to say yes. You wanted to tell everyone that this wasn’t just some heat-of-the-moment game, that Caleb wasn’t just some reckless decision you’d regret in the morning. But before you could speak, Patrick suddenly gasped, dramatic as ever.

“WAIT.” He turned toward the others, his face lighting up. “That means I won the bet!”

A collective groan rose from the group as he threw his hands in the air triumphantly.

“Oh, fuck off, Patrick,” Oliver grumbled.

Thomas threw actual money at him. “I hate you.”

Tara just sighed. “I should’ve known.”

Patrick turned back toward you and Caleb, grinning like the troublemaker he was. “So, for real—are you dating now, or am I just gonna have to keep orchestrating ridiculous excuses for you two to make out in small spaces?”

Caleb chuckled, shifting closer, his voice warm and teasing. “You got a problem with that, pipsqueak?” His fingers squeezed gently at your waist, daring. “Because I was kinda hoping this wasn’t just a one-time thing.”

Your breath hitched, heat curling in your chest.

This man.

This reckless, insufferable, wonderful man.

You exhaled, finally leaning into his hold, letting yourself smirk up at him. “Well,” you murmured, eyes gleaming, “if I say no, you do have a way of convincing me.”

The room erupted again—cheers, jeers, and exaggerated groans—but none of it mattered.

Because in that moment, with Caleb’s arm wrapped around you and that knowing, all-consuming look in his eyes, you knew.

Life was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

[moran-with-a-g]

You must understand that a political issue is not something that's just going to disappear once you stop caring about it. It's not like "A x B are a toxic ship and you should only ship A with C!!" or whatever other fandom drama people participate in.

And in fandom, if you follow what's popular, it becomes the fanon. There's no fanon for real life issues.

You won't hurt anyone by getting the point of a fictional story wrong. You hurt a LOT of people by not understanding the holocaust and acting like you do.

People call it "whataboutism" when you try to try and tell them "why do you care about this, and not that?" The question doesn't mean to say "you should care about that more", or "you should care about everything horrible going on in the world rn". It's "why, out of every horrible thing that's happening in the world, did you choose to focus on this issue and on this perspective?"

Some people focus on gay rights because they're gay or know someone who's gay. Some people focus on climate change, or pollution, because they learnt about the impact it has on our world and want to make it better for us and for future generations. Some people focus on a war because they have families or friends living there.

And then a lot of people look at them, go "this is what a good person does nowadays", and join in on supporting the issue without the proper research of what they're supporting. And when you don't properly understand what it is you're fighting for, what it is that your movement is trying to achieve, and what's the best way to tackle the issue - a lot of times you will cause way more harm than good.

A cis person who doesn't actually understand what being trans is could go and protest for our right to have our gender in our ID instead of our agab, protest for us to be treated like our gender and not our agab, and then also promote that doctors treat trans men exactly like they treat cis men - and end up blocking trans men from treatments related to pregnancy, breast cancer, etc. The same cis person could also go and say that transmascs can't be lesbians and have nothing to do with the lesbian community because they're men, without bothering to learn the shared history the two groups have.

Some issues are more clear-cut than others. Some APPEAR more clear-cut than others. In politics nothing is ever a simple right and wrong, good and evil. And if you're going to actually dedicate yourself to an issue you have to understand what it is you're supporting, what the goal of the movement is and why, and the history behind it. You can't ever claim you know everything there is to know, or that you know enough. There's never a point where you'll know everything. And you definitely cannot know everything about an issue that went on for over a thousand years.

Self doubting is SO important when it comes to political issues. You ALWAYS need to ask yourself "Why am I supporting that? What am I supporting? How will that affect others? Is this truly the best course of action to take?" and sometimes the answer should be that you don't know. That it's too complicated to know, that you don't have enough information to form an educated opinion. This is not a sign of weakness, it's a sign of maturity and responsibility. Those things you support affect the life of real people, and you can end up hurting the ones you support more than the ones you oppose.

I tried to make it as general as I could because this is not just about I/P for me (even though this is mainly about I/P). This is about every political issue that becomes a "trend". It's good when a political issue gains a lot of support, but if that support is uninformed and only follows what the trend is, it could snowball very fast and turn a crowd of people to support a very new and harmful perspective instead. It makes it so easy for people who are against this issue to chime in, alter the way they explain it a little bit, popularize the new idea and repeat until suddenly the whole issue is flipped.

open your third eye QUICK by realizing that people engage with politics in the same way that they engage with fandom

[imaginespazzi]

GUYS GUYS GUYS I FINALLY GET TO GIVE Y'ALL THOUGHTS AND HAVE THE YELLING BE OUT OF LOVE AND HYPE AND EXCITEMENT (should tell you in advance that a lot of this might be in cap because I'm so fucking happy)

AZZI FUDD

OH MY GOODNESS AZZI FUDD

LIKE BABYGIRL YOU HAD ME WORRIED A LITTLE BIT IN THE FIRST I CANNOT LIE LIKE I WAS GONNA HAVE TO MUTE YOU ON TWITTER AND SHIT

BUT THAT'S MY BAD CAUSE AZZI FUDD 3RD QUARTERS??? INSANE SHIT

Like honestly she was just....wow. Brilliant, spectacular, amazing. And I have to just point out what a testament this is to the growth in her mentality because there's a version of Azzi who would've gone 2-10 and then just stopped shooting. But not this one and man oh man was it freaking awesome. Also the 5 rebounds? Means the world to me actually. And what's being talked about less is that she played hella good defense today and kept Pao Pao from ever getting into a rhythm.

POINT GUARD PAIGE BUECKERS

WELCOME HOME SWEEHEART WE HAVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH

MY GOAT FINALLY GOT HER DOUBLE DOUBLE ALMOST A TRUPLE

You know what it didn't matter that, that basket coulda been the size of an ocean and Paige still might not able to get a ball through it because Paige was the heart of the offense. THAT'S MY LEADER. MY PG. MY OFFENSE MOVER. And she did it beautifully, all while occasionally having to defensively play PF.

SARAH MF-ING STRONG AMAZING AS PER ALWAYS. Like truly what is there to say about Sarah because she's just always so consistently good and that one half-court steal? OH I STOOD UP AND EVERYTHING

OH AND OF COURSE ANOTHER DOUBLE DOUBLE FOR MY NFOY

JANA EL ALFY BEST GAME OF THE SEASON AND OH MY GOD THAT HUSTLE??? Y'ALL SEE THAT HUSTLE? IT'S BEEN THERE ALL SEASON TBH BUT IT REALLY SHONE THROUGH TODAY AND THAT FIRST MOVE WHEN SHE CROSSED THAT GIRL OVER? OH THAT'S WHEN I REALLY STARTED TO BELIEVED. Just amazing work from MY center and miss girl didn't even miss a layup today I think (even if she did we didn't see it okay?)

ASHLYNN YEEHAW SHADE GIRL I HAVE YELLED AT YOU (and I still side-eye the hell out of you off the court for that follow) BUT M'AM YOU SHOWED UP! Those 3 threes really set the tone for the whole game and like she has all season, Ash hustled on the glass constantly and she saved some really important posessions.

KK GIRL THAT ENERGY BEEN CONSISTENT EVERY BIG MATCHUP AND YOUR TEAM FINALLY MATCHED IT! And those two fouls on Milaysia that she drew? Crucial shit forreal. Defense was great, made the right moves offensively AND DIDN'T GET BLOCKED ON A DRIVE!!

KC HAD A SOLID GAME!! Quiet 10 tbh I barely realized she'd gotten double digits but I did notice every basket and you could see her being aggressive about it and that's so important.

AUBREY BBG GOT SOME GOOD MINUTES TOO!!! Hard to say if she should've gotten more after such a dominant performance by but her presence is always great and I think really deflated SC, seeing her come off the bench in the 2nd half when we were already demolishing.

REBOUNDING REBOUNDING REBOUNDING. I been yelling all season and then we play the best rebounding team in the country an out-rebound them? SHUT ME UP UCONN

DEFENSE IN GENERAL? SO FUCKING GOOD. They couldn't get nothing going and we didn't do any of that overhelping shit (again mayhaps that's the adrenaline but even if we did, I didn't see it) and it was just lockdown at all time JUST AMAZING

And finally, no one I have yelled at more than Geno fucking Auriemma. AND THIS IS WHY. BECAUSE GRANDPA IS THE BEST COACH IN THE WORLD AND HAS BEEN FOR YEARS. AND WHEN HE REMEMBERS THAT AND COACHES LIKE IT, LOOK AT WHAT WE CAN DO. Like this man did everything right today. He gave the ball to Paige, he called the right timeouts, he ran the right plays at the right time, subbed the right people in and out the same time AND LIKE THIS IS MY FUCKING HALL OF FAME CAOCH. DO THIS EVERY GAME GODDAMN ION LIKE YELLING AT YOU EITHER GRANDPA.

MAN OH MAN I AM SO FREAKING PROUD OF THIS TEAM LIKE I CANNOT EVEN EXPLAIN TO Y'ALL JUST HOW PROUD I AM. THIS IS THE POTENTIAL THAT HAS BEEN THERE THE WHOLE TIME AND THEY JUST HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO SHOW AND LOOK AT THAT THEY FINALLY DID. AND MORE THAN ANYTHING ALL I WANTED FROM THIS TEAM IS TO JUST COME OUT AND LOOK LIKE THEY FUCKING WANTED IT AND THEY DID AND THEY GOT WHAT THEY WANTED JUST LIKE I KNEW THEY WOULD IF THEY JUST PLAYED TO WIN!!

[chukys-mouthguard]

captain’s call

5k words

genre - smut; threesome, minors DNI, 18+ content, unprotected sex, P in V

featuring - auston matthews x female reader x william nylander

summary - auston’s girlfriend goes on a podcast and picks william in a game of; kiss, marry, fuck - so auston decides to give her what she wants

note - the ending kind of sucks, i haven’t written in awhile if you couldn’t notice from the lack of posting on my blog, so enjoy this as my return? Hopefully?

Settling into your seat, you’d taken advantage of the complimentary cocktail you were offered prior to recording. You were appearing on your friend’s podcast as a special edition episode for the upcoming NHL All-Star game. Being one of the WAGs with a bigger social media presence, you often got invitations for appearances such as these.

“You ready?”

Looking at Chelsea you took a deep breath, followed by another quick sip of your cocktail before nodding your head.

The beginning half of the podcast focused on you, your relationship with your boyfriend now captain of the Maple Leafs, Auston Matthews. The second half delving into the more gossip style questions, which you were sure would wind you up in some trouble.

“Okay, so, as much as we all love talking about your man, we gotta talk about the other men of the Maple Leafs. So, let’s play a nice little game of: kiss, marry, and fuck.”

A blush quickly fell over your cheeks as you knew this would not end well. Looking at the camera as you warned, “Auston please turn this off now,” before allowing Chelsea to continue.

“Obviously, Auston will not be an option for this game because that would be cheating. So, without wasting any more time, first member of the Maple Leafs: William Nylander.”

“Fuck.”

Chelsea’s eyes went wide at your almost immediate response to the first player she’d promoted with, which of course she had to inquire about.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to elaborate because that answer was instantaneous. Why are you fucking Willy?”

“I mean, have you seen him? He’s got a good fashion sense, and if not Auston, I would one-hundred percent have to fuck Willy.”

The moment the podcast ended you knew that Auston would not be happy with the game of kiss, marry, fuck. However, you hoped it was at least taken more in a comedic sense versus people taking it to heart. Regardless if your answer was genuine to how you felt or not, you didn’t need your boyfriend thinking you had thoughts of his teammate on a regular basis.

The night was being capped off with a dinner for the Leafs all-stars and their guests they’d brought to town for the weekend. Auston sat in silence as he watched you put the finishing touches on your outfit of some simple gold earrings and a few bracelets.

“Okay, looks good?”

You turned to him with a smile as you gave him an opportunity to look over your outfit, Auston always giving you his stamp of approval before heading out the door.

“Yup, good. Ready to go?”

He stood up from the chair in the corner of the room as he headed towards you, taking your hand to pull you towards the door of the hotel room.

“Aus, everything okay? That was a bit of a lackluster response compared to your usual comments.”

He let out a soft sigh as he stopped to turn back towards you.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. You look great, I’m sure Willy is definitely gonna want to fuck you seeing you look this good.”

Auston rolled his eyes as he continued towards the door, pulling you with him as you sighed.

The podcast had not gone over well with Auston, specifically your comments about Willy being the one guy besides Auston on the Leafs that you’d choose to fuck. No matter how many times you told him it was a game and you weren’t thinking about fucking his teammate regularly, he didn’t want to hear it. A chip very much on his shoulder as the idea of you thinking about any of his teammates in such a way made his blood boil.

“Aus, babe, how many times do I have to tell you. It was a game on a podcast, you have nothing to be upset or worry about! I promise!”

Placing a kiss on his lips you were happy to see him slightly relax at your reassuring words. His thumb lightly brushed over the back of your hand as a smile came across his lips.

“Okay, I believe you. I just, I can’t help but be jealous. I know my girlfriend is hot as fuck, so naturally I assume that everyone else knows it too. And the idea of you wanting to fuck one of my teammates, definitely had me hot and ready to explode.”

“Not hot and bothered?”

You playfully joked as Auston rolled his eyes, not caring for any sarcastic comments of yours as he pulled you down the hall.

“No way, I don’t even want to think of Willy or any of the guys getting you all to themselves.”

A smirk found its way across your lips as you two waited for the elevator, Auston eyeing you confused as the ding alerted you two of the ride's arrival.

“What? You know I don’t like it when you start smirking like that.”

“Nothing, you just said you don’t wanna think about any of the guys getting me all to themselves. But, I wondered what you’d say if it wasn’t one of them, just by themselves. Like what if-“

The ding of the elevator arriving in the lobby stopped your thought, Auston staring at you in confusion as you made your way out and towards the group that was waiting for the two of you.

Shaking his head he let the words escape him as he caught up to you and the group, lacing his fingers with yours as the group headed out for dinner. Auston, Mitch, and William had been voted to the All-Star game and it was a tradition they’d started to do a dinner with friends and family that they flew out for the festivities.

As you found your seat at the table, you failed to notice it was directly across from William. Normally you wouldn’t care or pay it any mind, but with Auston still not thrilled with your comments made on the podcast, you were sure this would add more fuel to the fire.

“Y/n.”

You heard William’s voice softly break through the rumbling of conversations at the large dinner table, pulling your attention as you made eye contact with him. Taking a sip of your wine you waited for him to speak, noticing that Auston was turning his attention to Willy though he tried not to make it obvious.

“You look gorgeous, that’s the dress you were eyeing in Paris yeah?”

A smile came across your face as you thought back on the trip you took with Auston that had seen you coming home with tons of new clothes. Some of which you couldn’t decide on, leading you to enlist the help of resident Maple Leafs fashionista William Nylander. The dress he urged you to get was the one you wore tonight; it was simple, strapless, and you paired it with a vintage Maple Leafs racing style jacket.

“It is, you remembered.”

He offered you a cheers of your wine glasses with a smirk, shrugging his shoulders as he brought the glass to his lips.

“How could I not remember when you look so gorgeous in it? I can understand why you and Auston were late to meet us all for dinner.”

Willy shot you a wink as you rolled your eyes, the smirk on your lips fading as you noticed Auston clearly not amused by the conversation. Turning your attention to some chatter coming from the opposite end of the table, you hoped Auston would just drop the entire thing. But as he and William got up and headed towards the bar, you were sure that wasn’t the case.

“What can I get you boss?”

William smiled at Auston while flagging down a bartender, Auston simply replying “tequila on the rocks” as he leaned an arm on the counter.

“You good? Things seem off with you tonight.”

Auston chuckled as he accepted his glass from the bartender, taking a sip as he shook his head at William.

“Am I good? You were fucking flirting with my girlfriend right in front of me dude. I mean it’s bad enough she made comments on that podcast about wanting to fuck you, but now I’ve got to sit through you hitting on her and shit?”

William immediately put his hands up in protest, chuckling as he shook his head.

“I meant nothing more than a simple compliment. I mean, yeah y/n is gorgeous. And I think any guy you asked would be lying if they said they didn’t wanna sleep with her. But I’m not trying to cross any lines here, honest. You think I’d do something like that?”

Auston sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, believing that William was telling the truth. But still confused by the comments you’d made earlier in the elevator.

“I mean, I don’t know. Y/n was saying some things earlier, it almost made me think the comments she made on that podcast weren’t just a joke or for entertainment.”

William’s eyes went wide as he sipped his drink, slightly coughing as he wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Wait, you think, she was serious? That she wants to sleep with me?”

“Not exactly, she said something in the elevator about what if it wasn’t just William having me all to himself.”

William started laughing as Auston furrowed his brow, not appreciating the humor that his teammate was finding in this situation.

“Dude, I’m gonna go ahead and say that your girlfriend is hinting at wanting to have a threesome.”

Auston’s eyes went wide as he glanced to the table, seeing you laughing about something Mitch was telling the table. The thought of a threesome was never something he imagined you’d be interested in let alone think about.

“A threesome? What? No way, with you? You really think that’s what she was hinting at?”

William shook his head, laughing at Auston’s sudden awkwardness over the thought. Simply patting his shoulder as he grabbed his glass to head back to the table.

“Threesomes can be a good time, don’t knock it till you try it, that’s all I’m saying.”

Dinner had wrapped up and you’d noticed Auston was rather quiet after his trip to the bar with William. You normally would assume it’s because he’s tired with all the hustle and bustle of All-Star Weekend, but you couldn’t be so sure.

“You okay babe?”

Squeezing his hand tight you searched his face for some sort of sign, something to let you in on what had him so quiet.

“Can I ask you something?”

The two of you were behind the group so he wasn’t worried about anyone overhearing, though you’d become a bit nervous for what he had to say.

“Do you, have you. Do you want to fuck William?”

Rolling your eyes you couldn’t believe this was being brought up again, despite your effort to shut down the silly comments made during a game on a podcast, it was clear Auston wasn’t letting it go.

“Aus, I’ve told you. It was a game on a podcast, there’s nothing more to it than that.”

“Do you want to fuck me and William? Like together?”

Your eyes went wide hearing the question pour from your boyfriend’s lips. Taking a moment to replay the question in your mind just in case maybe you’d heard him wrong.

“What, like, you think I want to have a threesome?”

Your voice got quiet on the final word, praying no one around could hear the conversation as you felt your heart begin to race. Your palms sweating as you could see Auston was awaiting an answer, and he’d know if you were lying.

“I mean, I don’t know. Maybe. Yeah? It’s just one of those random sexual thoughts you get sometimes. Haven’t you ever had one?”

Auston slightly chuckled seeing how flustered you’d become, shaking his head as he took your hand in his. The rest of the walk back to the hotel was silent, minus your heart that was beating loud in your head as you’d wondered what admitting to your thoughts was making Auston think.

-

It wasn’t uncommon after a multi-point night on top of a commanding win for Auston to be ready to rip your clothes off the second you’d get home. His hand slowly finding its way between your thighs on the ride home, trying his best to drive the speed limit though his foot would be glued to the gas pedal racing through Toronto traffic.

Though you would try to please and pleasure him after a multi-point performance, Auston can never give up control that easily. Always wanting to have things his way, despite your begging to make him happy.

“Baby, you remember what you asked me…the night of the dinner at All Star weekend?”

He spoke in between kisses, his breath heavy as his hands quickly worked on your jeans, then moved to discard your jacket and top to the side.

“Mmm, sure…No, of course not I don’t fucking remember anything from that night right now Aus. Can this wait?”

You pleaded with him as he slipped a hand past the waistband of your thong, fingers slowly tracing your slit as he smirked seeing you flinch beneath him at the feeling.

“It could, but I wanna talk about it now.”

Groaning you reluctantly gave in, thinking back on that night, trying to remember what you asked him. Of all the things you could’ve said, nothing was coming to mind.

“Aus, please just tell me so we can get this over with.”

Grinding your hips you tried your best to urge his fingers to continue, but he stopped their movements as he pulled his hand from your thong. His thumb tracing over your cheek before holding your chin as he brought you closer for a kiss.

“You asked me if I’d ever had a random sexual thought, like how you thought of a threesome with me and Willy.”

His eyes looked down at yours, lust filled as he smirked, watching as your chest rose and fell with sharp breaths as you tried to be patient. Auston always hated when you would rush him.

Before he could finish his thought, a knock came at the door along with a groan from your lips. Auston chuckled to himself as he gestured for you to go and get it. Scoffing at him you crossed your arms over your chest, as if to protest that you were not moving.

“Baby, look at me, I can’t answer the door like this!”

His arms were open wide as he shrugged, his gaze falling to his cock that was rock hard in his briefs. Rolling your eyes, you threw on his dress shirt as another knock came at the door.

“Fine! But you owe me, big time!”

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll get your wish.”

Auston sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his forearms as he watched you hurry off to the door.

“Coming!”

You shouted as a third knock came, quickly checking that all the buttons were done and your matching blue lace bra and thong couldn’t be seen beneath the dress shirt.

“Can I help-“

As you opened the door, you were greeted with the blonde hair and blue eyes of none other than William Nylander.

“Willy? What the fuck are you doing here?”

Quickly wrapping your arms around yourself, you did your best attempt at hiding the fact you were simply in a bra and thong beneath the dress shirt. Thankfully your face was already red from the events that had begun upstairs so it hid your blush of embarrassment seeing William at the door.

“Auston told me to come over.”

“He what?”

William had shown himself inside, leaving you confused as you shut and locked the door. You expected Auston to have trailed behind you, but he was nowhere in sight.

Heading upstairs you kept glancing back at William as a smirk remained plastered on his face as you rushed to get some sort of explanation from Auston.

“Aus, what the fuck? Why is he here?”

Your whisper yelling was useless as William had followed shortly behind, now leaning in the doorway of your bedroom as Auston reached out to tuck some hair behind your ear with a cocky grin.

“Didn’t I say you’d get your wish baby girl? Well, this is your lucky day.”

Looking from Auston to William, you’d felt the lightbulb click in your brain as you felt your cheeks turning red. William moved to lean on the dresser, arms crossed over his chest as Auston took your hand in his, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Auston, I told you, it was just a random thought. You don’t need to do this, he’s your teammate.”

He playfully bit your lip before moving you off of his lap, standing up next to William as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“Well, we are gonna take care of this random thought once and for all. William and I talked, there’s no reason for it to be awkward. He’s gonna respect my rules, and we’ll have some fun. Sound good?”

You were trying to pick your jaw up off the floor, the idea of Auston ever being okay with something like this seemed ridiculous. But as both men smirked at you, sharing a laugh at your inability to speak, you realized they weren’t kidding.

“Why don’t you help Willy out a bit, we got a head start on things. Get him up to speed.”

Auston made his way to the chair that sat in the corner of the room, watching as Willy made his way over to you while already starting on his belt. Your breath hitching in your throat as you glanced from Willy to Auston, just waiting for the moment they both would burst out laughing telling you this was a prank. But as William did away with his pants and boxers, leaving him fully exposed to you, it was clear this situation was very real, and you were indeed going to fulfill this fantasy of yours.

“Go ahead baby, it’s okay.”

Looking at Auston, he was already palming himself over his briefs as he was impatiently waiting to watch you. Normally he’d never be okay with such an idea, but hearing that you’d thought about this, even if it was just once, he found himself desperate to experience the idea. Not that he was excited to watch you pleasure his teammate, but the idea of watching while you and William had to follow his rules turned him on more than anything.

You glanced up at William with innocent eyes, slowly moving from the edge of the bed you fell to your knees as your hands slowly trailed up his thighs. Noticing how he slightly flinched at your touch, his breath sharp as you finally wrapped a hand around his cock. Bringing it to your mouth as you began to bob your head up and down his length, feeling as he grew hard against your tongue.

“Fuck, she’s fucking amazing.”

William threw his head back as he brought a hand up to your hair, gripping it as he helped to guide you.

“Hey! What did I say? No touching her.”

William quickly dropped his hand, both of them resting on the comforter as they gripped it tight, desperately needing something to hold as he was overwhelmed by how good your lips felt wrapped around his cock.

“Sorry Auston, she’s just fu-holy shit! She’s really fucking good at this.”

“I know she is, but we talked about this. You don’t touch her, or else this is over.”

William nodded as he let out a few soft moans, his lustful eyes watching you as you slowly took all of him into your mouth, gagging slightly as more expletives fell from his lips.

“Is he up to speed baby?”

Auston stood up from his place, discarding his briefs as he was rock hard from watching you. His hand slowly stroked his cock as he made his way over to you, helping you from your spot at the foot of the bed as you wiped the corners of your mouth.

You felt William’s eyes scanning you from your head down to your eyes, undressing you was more the vibe as Auston began working on the buttons of the dress shirt. Sliding it off your shoulders as he wanted William to see how good you looked in your bra and panties.

“Isn’t she sexy?”

William nodded as he bit his lip, so badly wishing he could have his hands on you. Watching as Auston stood behind you; one arm reaching around to pull your lips to his for a kiss, the other wrapping around your waist and slipped past the fabric of your lace thong.

A gasp left your lips as his fingers slid past your clit, dipping into your heat while he groaned at how wet you were for them already.

“Mmm, she’s so wet for us. Her panties are soaked.”

William’s hand gave his cock some much needed attention since it was aching now without your lips wrapped around it. The sight only turned you on more as Auston made sure you were watching him.

“What do you say baby? Do you want us to fuck you?”

Auston’s fingers picked up speed, earning soft whimpers from you as you were melting for him with every pump of his fingers inside you.

All you could muster were soft whimpers, Auston chuckling at how worked up the situation had you.

“Use your words baby girl, tell us what you want.”

“I-I, I want you to fuck me. Both of you. Please.”

With that Auston pulled his fingers from you, making quick work of your bra as he gave William a nod to discard of your panties. William then taking his place back on the bed, waiting impatiently for Auston to instruct of the next moves. It only turned you on more, knowing Auston was in control and William was having to listen. You could feel your blood rushing through you as you waited to finally have them, the excitement of not knowing how or who first had you even wetter than before.

“Let’s let Willy have some fun first huh?”

Auston helped you onto the bed, positioning you face down ass up as he stood in front of you. His cock begging for your lips to wrap around it, but you waited until he gave you instruction. Realizing this was Auston’s show and you and William were merely participants.

“Hands on her hips and ass, that’s it.”

William nodded as he slowly stroked himself as he positioned himself behind you. You felt your pussy throbbing knowing how close he was, knowing that you’d finally get to see if the rumors around William being a solid ten in bed were true.

“Fuck, she’s so wet.”

William groaned as he teased your slit with his cock, earning soft moans from you. You couldn’t help but instinctually try and push back against him to get him to slip inside, but he knew to wait. Sitting back as Auston grabbed your chin, pulling your eyes to meet his.

“Go ahead, tell him what you want.”

Looking over your shoulder your eyes met Williams before scanning his entire body. Taking in his built frame and amazing legs as he stood stroking himself, eager for your permission.

“Please William, I need you.”

His eyes flashed to Auston for approval before one hand fell to your hip while the other slowly teased his cock up and down your slit. Both of you moaning out as the feeling was already better than you could’ve imagined, the sexual tension exploding like fireworks as he finally dipped inside.

“Oh my god, fu-“

You couldn’t even finish the thought as you gripped the sheets, the feeling of William’s cock stretching you was a whole new experience than what you’d grown used to with Auston. It was different, and a whole new feeling that you couldn’t believe you were getting to experience.

“Does he feel good baby?”

Auston brushed your hair from your face as you bit your lip, nodding as you could barely form words while William slowly found a rhythm behind you.

“Well don’t leave me out honey, use that pretty mouth of yours for me.”

His words sent chills down your spine, as if there weren’t already enough there with how amazing William was making you feel. His soft grunts and expletives that were spoken under his breath had your pussy dripping for me.

Letting your grip go on the bed sheets, you took Auston’s cock in your hand, slowly stroking him as you gladly took him in your mouth.

A low groan erupted from him as his hand fell to your hair, holding a tight grip as he forced you down on his length.

“Fuck baby, you’re so hot. Let me hear how good he’s making you feel baby don’t be shy.”

With that William bucked his hips a bit hard, a slight laugh leaving his lips as he heard you moan in approval.

“Mmm it feels so good Aus, I’m so wet for him. For both of you. I love it.”

“Yeah? You think you can make us both cum for you baby?”

You hummed a confirming response as you took Auston’s length back into your mouth. The stroke of your hand matching the bobbing of your head as you tried your best to not lose focus while William’s thrusts were growing a bit sporadic, letting you know he was close.

Auston loved how confident you were, loving even more the idea of both men cumming just for you. And he wanted you to make it happen, but there was no way he was ending the night with only getting his dick sucked.

“Come here.”

He pulled you from his cock, pressing a harsh and sloppy kiss to your lips while William groaned at the loss of your pussy clenching his cock.

Auston took your face in his hands as a cocky grin slowly appeared on his lips.

“I want you to make him cum. And you don’t stop until we’ve both finished okay?”

You nodded your head with a slight bite of your lip, though you were confident in your ability, William was slightly bigger and thicker than Auston.

Flipping your position around, Auston was now the one with hands on your ass as he wasted no time thrusting into you. A loud moan escaping your lips as William traced his thumb over your jaw before bringing his cock to your mouth.

“Open up pretty girl.”

His smirk was just as bad as Auston’s and you could feel your pussy clench around Auston’s cock at the sight. The way he held your gaze as he watched you slowly bring your lips around him, a string of expletives leaving his mouth as you began to slowly stroke him as you bobbed your head. His hand falling to your hair as he couldn’t be bothered to abide by Auston’s rules, needing to keep your pace as he could feel himself coming apart.

“Such a good girl baby, gonna make us both cum. Fuck!”

William’s grip in your hair was growing tighter as you could see his thighs flexing as he was fighting back the urge to cum, trying to hold out as long as he could. Your strokes of his cock matching perfectly with the motion of your head as you tried your best not to slow down while Auston’s thrusts were hard and fast behind you.

“Holy shit, whatever you’re doing right there, don’t stop doing that.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at William’s reaction, but you did as he asked. Continuing with that same motion as his breath began to become hitched, and he couldn’t control the moans that were leaving his lips as his head fell back.

“God you’re so fucking sexy baby. You ready for us to cum?”

Auston’s fingers were digging into your hips so tight you were sure he broke skin as he gave you three final strokes, a low groan escaping him as he came.

“Fuck, oh my-holy shit yes. Oh fuck.”

William followed suit as he came, his hand holding tight to your head as you felt his seed fill your mouth. Your strokes on his cock slowed as you swallowed every drop, eventually pulling your mouth from him as he tried to catch his breath.

Auston had already gone to grab a towel to clean you up, laughing at the sight of his teammate weak in the knees upon his return.

“You good Willy?”

William smirked and gave a thumbs up as the three of you laughed. Your mind still trying to comprehend what just took place, as all of this started from a simple game of marry, fuck, kiss.

Auston tossed you an oversized t-shirt as you tried to come to your senses, William finding his own clothes while Auston threw on some briefs.

“So, that was, fun?”

William awkwardly interrupted the silence, not sure what to say as he now had to do the walk of shame in his suit he’d worn to the game.

“Fun is definitely a good word.”

You chuckled out a response as you sat on the bed while Auston rolled his eyes helping to make sure William had all his things.

“You know, I’d totally be down if you guys ever wanted to-“

“William, no way. This was a one and done so my girlfriend will shut up about how bad she wants to fuck you. See you at practice tomorrow.”

He simply nodded his head, bidding you both farewell as he knew the way out.

Auston just laughed as he climbed into bed with you, pulling you into his chest with a kiss on your head.

“Thank you, I, I honestly never expected you to be okay with something like that.”

“Hey, there’s always a first for everything. And now that we’ve done that, let’s not do it again. I like you much better all to myself.”

You nodded as you pressed a kiss to his lips, wrapping your arms around him as you got comfortable.

“Okay but hypothetically, if I also was thinking the same thing about let’s say like Matthew Knies? Would that be a possibility or?”

“Babe, shut up. You know he has a girlfriend. And I’m never sharing you with another man ever again. But nice try. You’re stuck with me and only me.”

[sunsburns]

Hey girl I have a request. I think Clark is into body worship, both receiving and giving but I feel he’d be so cute being in the receiving end. He’s Superman, he gets praise all the time and takes it in stride, but when it comes to you? Oh he gets shy, his cheeks are pink, he stutters a bit. When you tell him how big he is, there’s always a “…you think so?” “I’m not that big…”. His eyes are glazed when you start kissing and groping him everywhere appreciatively. Clark becomes bashful and flustered because all the praise coming from YOU just hits different. Can you please add onto this 😭😭😭

oh, you are absolutely cooking here. clark being shy and flustered when he’s on the receiving end of body worship? that’s a full-course meal. (18+) ᢉ𐭩

it starts with something small. maybe an offhand compliment while he's getting dressed—your eyes lingering just a second too long, watching how his muscles shift under his skin, the sheer width of him, the way his broad shoulders slope into a tapered waist, strong arms straining slightly as he buttons up his shirt.

“you’re so big.”

three words, simple, but they wreck him.

his hands falter, button slipping from his fingers, and his head turns towards you, brows pinched in disbelief, a soft, breathy laugh escaping him like he’s not sure he heard you right.

“…you think so?”

he’s genuinely unsure. as if he hasn’t had people across the globe marvel at him, as if he isn’t literally superhuman in strength, in stature, in presence. but this—you looking at him like that, eyes dark and full of appreciation, tracing every inch of him with slow, lingering touches—this is different.

“clark, baby,” you hum, stepping in closer, letting your hands drag up his chest, feeling the solid weight of him under your palms. you look up at him, “you’re huge.”

his throat bobs, adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow. his skin burns under your touch, warmth radiating from him like a furnace.

“i’m not that big…” he tries, voice going a little weak when your fingers curl around his biceps, giving them an appreciative squeeze.

you just smile, letting your hands wander, mapping the planes of his body like you have all the time in the world. “mm, you are. so big. so strong. so perfect.”

and that’s when it happens—his ears go pink first, then his cheeks, and then that soft, bashful smile creeps onto his face, the kind that makes his dimples show. he can’t handle it. his hands come up like he’s going to stop you, but they just hover, unsure—because does he really want you to stop?

“you—” his voice catches, and he lets out another laugh, this time breathier, shaking his head like he can’t believe you. like he can’t believe he gets you.

but you’re not done. no, now that you see how he’s unravelling, you want more. you press your lips to his collarbone, slow and reverent, and he melts. his body twitches under your mouth, his breath coming out uneven as your kisses trail lower, over his chest, down the ridges of his abs, your hands following close behind, smoothing over every dip, every curve of muscle.

and clark—sweet, sweet clark—is squirming.

“baby,” he breathes, voice cracking just a little as he watches you kneel before him, eyes glazed and heavy-lidded. “you don’t have to—”

“but i want to.” you cut him off, lips ghosting over the center of his stomach, feeling how his muscles flex beneath your mouth. you move lower, pressing your cheek against his crotch. you basically nuzzle against his boner, tracing the shape of it with your lips, mouthing it, kissing it over his clothes.

“you’re so beautiful, clark. so handsome. so perfect.”

his whole face is red now, a helpless, lopsided smile tugging at his lips as he runs a hand through his hair, completely overwhelmed. his body can handle a lot, but this?

“okay, but make it quick.”

[kwondotcom]

hana— in our first ever conversation, i divulged to you that i've thought of elevatory at least once a week since i first read it. the reason why it took me a bit of time to do a proper rb is because i had annotated it on my second read, needed to take a min to breathe, and ended up only revisiting it now while clearing drafts/my tbr. so, here it is now on read #3!!! THIS WILL NOT BE THE LAST READ (THREAT)

tl;dr one of my favorite pieces of soonyoung writing. the premise in itself is probably the most unique i've seen in a long time, and it just drives me so insane to see such a well-done exes plot. spoilers under the cut. <3

WHAT A KILLER FIRST LINE. an actual art form, really, to have u hook line and sinker in the first sentence!

knew as early as this part that i'd be in for a wild ride. it's very telling of a post-break up sentiment, and it's a stellar set up for the MC's mindset.

there's a lot to love here. the touch of "nine now, but who's counting", the call back of "God hates you" and just. soonyoung's trying to make the most of it. oomf. because of course kwon soony would jump at this opportunity, would try to make small talk w/someone he's been no contact with. it's just his style, and it leads in well to the rest of the story. the next paragraph is actual pure gold: "- sad puppy, you've nicknamed it," following the description of soony as an open book. vicious and accurate read. goes really well with the descriptiveness of this:

(aha. i'm on to you, MC. you can say what you want, but at the end of the day, you can still read him. you still know him.)

i'm more than a little obsessed at a tactless soony + jeonghan, of course, inadvertently being the one at the crime scene.

the first part is already a punch in the gut in itself— the acknowledgement of their differences, serving as a bit of a gravity that explains how the two have acted so far. think the wrong side of magnets clinking against e/o lol. but what amazes me is how hana manages to manifest is a couple of sentences later. soony who winces, who is still obviously pained by his ala-taylor swift the moment i knew moment (i don't even want to think too much of the forgotten birthday scene or i will cry) vs. mc who's 'not sure why [you're] trying to reassure him'.

i said i don't want of the birthday flashback, but it must be said. this fucking line? shot to the chest and i'm in love with the shooter (hana). sighs.

[CAR CRASH] [GLASS SHATTERING] [EXPLOSION] “OH MY GOD” [BABY CRYING] “WAAAHH WAHH” [YELLING] “HELP MEE” [POLICE SIRENS] WEE WOO WEE WOEOO [YELLING] [HELICOPTERS] ‘WE’RE REPORTING LIVE-‘ [EXPLOSION] ‘MY LEG… MY LEG!!’ [BABY CRYING] “AHFUCKK SOMEONE HELP US” [REPORTER REPORTING] oh, this got got me. something about the intimacy of a name, so deceptively simple, and soony feeling the weight of the moment :") man.

this is my favorite flashback scene (and the eventual conclusion 'tried so hard/neither of you tried hard enough) for a lot of reasons. on one hand, there's something my friends and i call the burden of knowledge, which is something i feel jeonghan is vouchsafed in this scene. he's the one who hears out why MC wants to break up with soony, who talks her through it. "little things add up." my god, what a simple truth. part of why i adore elevatory so much— aside from being a study of form, an entire story told in a one-act that no one else besides hana could pull off— is because of the way it aches. it doesn't cut, like some stories might. it doesn't scar. it's just... a dull, familiar sort of throb. like a phantom pain. i think that's the best way to put it. cuts scab over. scars heal. but aches are forever, and this is exactly what that fic does. some old forgotten breakup, some bitterness at the circumstances, some truths packaged in a kwon soonyoung fanfic that remind you right, my pain of that-time-we-don't-talk-about is somewhat universal. it's comforting, in the same way that it's damning, to realize that there are people who know y/our pain that same way. to read it back, though— to have it glaring up at you— is just. a one-of-a-kind experience.

the lead-in to the breakup is devastating, because it really is that, sometimes. you realize love in the tender mundane, which means you can also loss love on a random weekday. "... after realising you had no idea where he kept his cereal bowls" is just an absolute gut-punch. like, ah. this is a life we're supposed to be sharing, a small fact i would know if it weren't for all the distance and time apart (what kind of girlfriend doesn't know where their boyfriend keeps their cereal bowls?!) and it just. little things, as jeonghan had said. also: something so cruel in the breakup starting, and consisting, of MC just saying soonyoung. this, after present-day soony is jolted when MC says his name? yeah. abso-fucking-lutely brutal, man.

won't even try to act like i can be coherent about this when i started crying actual tears the first time i read this passage. even now, my eyes are skipping over the words in an attempt to guard my heart against that impending pain. like, hey, hana. what the fuck! reminds me of a poem, which i'm attaching here. "but i remember our kindness that day, / when it longer mattered."

i can tell you exactly when i first read this (second week of january -ish) and when i read it a second time (earlier this month; the aborted annotation attempt), and i just wish you could've seen the look on my fucking face/the gasp i gusped when it ended with this. i rate about it a lot already in this little post, but it bears repeating: pulling off a one-act/one-setting piece is no easy feat, and you do it with such finesse. the un-chronological order of the flashbacks, the glimpses of their present selves and how they've changed/how they're still like their past versions, and this ending. absolutely bowls me over. hana, you have talent that bursts at the seams. elevatory is living, breathing proof.

You were once deeply and irrevocably in love with Kwon Soonyoung, and it’s incredibly hard to avoid that fact when he works literally two offices down from you. It’s even harder to avoid when you’re stuck in a broken elevator with him for hours, and he seems determined to dissect everything that went wrong three years ago.

⇢ pairing: kwon soonyoung x f!reader

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, exes!au, lawyer!au

⇢ wc: 5.6k

⇢ warnings: minor alcohol consumption, lots of flashbacks

⇢ a/n: early happy new year!! this is my gift to u all <3 thank u to @haologram for hosting this collab and for just being alive. and thank you SOO much to ally @lovetaroandtaemin and em @gyuswhore for beta'ing i appreciate u both endlessly 💗

as part of the don’t hate, litigate! collab hosted by the wonderful @haologram

SOMETIMES IT TRULY feels like God, or the stars in your skies, or whatever the hell is controlling your fate down on this measly earth, hates you.

Sometimes it truly feels like this indefinite being is determined to deal you the worst set of cards, and this – this trumps all. Being stuck in an elevator with your ex-boyfriend sounds like the beginning of a shitty romcom, except it’s not. It’s your life, and it’s been your life for the past eight minutes, since the metal box you stepped in ground to a creaky, noisy halt halfway between the sixth and seventh floor. 

And it takes eight minutes before Soonyoung sighs resignedly. “Are you just going to ignore me forever?” 

Forever, you think, is your least favourite word. There were a lot of things you thought you’d have forever, and one of them is standing right next to you.

You swallow thickly. Your reply comes measured and clipped. “For as long as possible.”

When he speaks next, you can hear the attempt at a forced smile in his tone. “Well, you kinda just failed.”

You stay silent. If anyone had told you five years ago that Kwon Soonyoung would be begging to talk to you and you’d be ignoring him, you would have called them crazy; and yet, here you are. Ignoring him like your sanity depends on it, because actually, it does. So for the past eight minutes – nine now, but who’s counting? – you’ve barely spoken a word. You’re both stuck; the recovery team can’t make it for two hours at least; and God hates you, basically.

Soonyoung’s trying to make the most of it, and you’re not letting him.

He says your name, ever so softly. “Really, though. How – how have you been?”

It’s weird, going from years of no contact to working together. It’s been a year since Soonyoung joined your company, but it hasn’t become any easier. Not when he’s such an open book, so fucking easy for you to read. Every time you cross paths, he gets this look in his eyes – sad puppy, you’ve nicknamed it. Now is no different.

“I’ve been okay,” you say finally, stiltedly. You’ve never been able to resist that face, and you’re pretty sure he knows it too. “What about you?”

The silence is painful, but the way he says fine stings a little bit more. You know when he’s lying, and he never used to do that to you.

“So…” He shifts his weight awkwardly, huffing out an uncomfortable laugh as he gazes intently at his shoes. “This is weird, right?”

You match him with an equally uncomfortable smile. “The weirdest.”

“Our longest conversation after forever,” he says. “But I wasn’t expecting it to go like this.”

You cock your head to the side, fixing him with a questioning gaze. All hopes of ignoring him are sailing out the hypothetical window. “How were you expecting it to go?”

Soonyoung looks up at you with one of those embarrassed, endearing smiles. “Better.”

There’s a pregnant pause, and then – “You know, Jeonghan calls you the one that got away.” 

He’s always had a habit of dropping things like that on you; things that leave you a little winded.

“That makes it sound like I escaped,” you say, with an ease you don’t feel.

Clearly, Soonyoung doesn’t feel it either — he exhales heavily. “Maybe you did. Escape, I mean.”

You snap your head towards him, eyes almost owlish in your surprise; “You’re not serious.” When he doesn’t say anything, you continue haphazardly, “Soonyoung, that’s not — there wasn’t anything to escape from.” 

Your ex-boyfriend looks miserable. Avoids eye contact, staring fixedly at his shoes with a dejected expression he can’t properly disguise; even throughout the three years of your relationship, you rarely saw him like this. He looks…

Heartbroken, your mind suggests.

“I’m serious,” you insist again, pushing the thought out of your mind. “You weren’t a bad boyfriend, Soonyoung.”

He snorts then. “Okay, we both know that isn’t true.”

“It is!” 

“If we had, like, a counter of who fucked up however many times, I would leave you in the dust.”

You don’t know how to tell him this might even be half of it. This weird pedestal he puts you on – it’s not even guilt-tripping. You’ve seen that, but never from him; Soonyoung just truly, sincerely feels bad. Whenever you look back on your relationship, which is more often than you’d care to admit, it’s plain as day. He truly, sincerely feels that he has never deserved you. Like you’re something out of this world, out of his world. 

“Wow.” Soonyoung huffs out the one word, and it’s half a laugh, half admiration. “You are so out of my league.”

“Stop,” you whine, pushing his shoulder lightly. “Don’t say stupid things like that.”

“Well, not everyone gets to date the prettiest girl in law school,” he retorts quickly, lifting his brows. “Not sure why I of all people get to, but thank you.”

“Stop it,” you repeat, rolling your eyes and fixing the tie he’s wearing. “You’re gorgeous and you know it. You should know it, at least.”

“Not just that!” he protests quickly. “I just mean… you’re so smart. And good. And kind, and funny, and — ”

“Ah, yes! Of course, Kwon Soonyoung, known famously for being mean and horrible and extremely unfunny,” you say sarcastically, before tugging his tie and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “I choose my league, and you’re the only one in it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he murmurs, slightly breathless.

“Oh, shut up and kiss me.”

There were a lot of things that went wrong with you and Soonyoung. You’d started off wonderful: both of you bright, flaming, drawn to each other like magnets. You managed the stresses of law school, graduated together, and lined up jobs – jobs that were miles and miles from each other.`

There were lots of things that went wrong with you and Soonyoung, but if you had to pick one, it would be long distance.

“When did we stop trying?”

The question makes you snort. “What, you want a date and a time?”

Soonyoung smiles ruefully, but there’s nothing happy about it. It’s more of a painful grimace. That’s always been the way with you both: you deflect, he feels. He doesn’t hide the way you do, not from anyone. And for a few years, he was the only one who you didn’t hide from. 

Maybe that’s what has you opening your mouth again. “I could probably give you one. A date, I mean.”

Soonyoung hugs his knees to his chest, eyes searching your face. You can read him so well it physically makes you ache. The hint of uncertainty in his eyes, the twitching of his fingers – he’s nervous. He’s torn between wanting to know what you have to say and the strong sneaking premonition that it might hurt. “Go on,” he says finally, just as you knew he would. 

Honestly, you don’t have an exact date. Things fell apart slowly, and then all at once. A toppling tower – leaning, leaning, leaning, until it crashed. 

“There were probably a few things,” you say, softly. “My birthday, for a start.”

He winces reflexively. “That…” he begins, and then breathes out, shutting his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for that.”

“I mean, in the end, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” You’re not sure why you’re trying to reassure him, even if it's true. You forgave him almost immediately.

“Shit.” 

Soonyoung’s first eloquent word when he walks into the apartment only means you become sure of what you already suspected. He takes in the half-eaten cake on the table, candles blown out and tossed to the side, the scraps of wrapping paper littering the floor, the cards; you take in his face. And you know, as quick and as simple as that – he forgot. 

Some small part of you had been holding a sneaking hope that maybe this was just an elaborate attempt at a surprise. You’d told him once, months and months ago, that you didn’t think ignoring people on their birthday to surprise them later was a very nice thing to do. But you’d rather he forgot that than your entire birthday.

His eyes meet yours, both of you frozen to your places. Him at the doorway, you at the table. The distance between you isn’t more than a few metres, but suddenly it feels like an engulfing abyss. Still, even from the other side, you can feel the guilt pouring out of him. 

“Shit,” he says again, before rushing his words out. “Shit, baby, I’m so sorry.”

You haven’t cried all day. You haven’t let yourself, but this has your eyes brimming over before you can control it.

“I’m going to bed,” you say finally, hugging yourself tightly, making yourself smaller. The apartment is warm, but you suddenly feel freezing. And despite your best efforts, there’s a waver in your voice, verging on a crack. “I’m tired.” 

You glance over the remains of your birthday party, one that you plastered a fake, painful smile on the whole way through, and then you turn to leave. 

“Baby, wait,” he implores quickly, and takes a step towards you — you mirror it immediately with a step back, and it makes him pause, his expression falling even further. “Baby.”

“You’re not allowed to call me that.” Your voice is obviously shaking now. “Not today. Maybe — maybe tomorrow.”

Maybe tomorrow you’ll be able to hear his excuses, his promises, but today, you’re allowed to be upset. You’ll let yourself have today, at the very least.

He’d driven hours to see you that day, but he’d still forgotten why he was there. You hadn’t really celebrated your birthday before you met him. Soonyoung was the one who made it a big deal, back when you first started dating, and even now, there’s a sharp pang in your chest when you remember how hurt you were that day.

“You made up for it tenfold,” you remind him now, because it’s true. He made the rest of the week practically a utopia, once you banned him from apologising. And he’d been so busy at work, so incredibly tired the whole month before, and you could understand. Both that he upset you, and that it was an innocent mistake. And you’ve never seen more sincere apologies than those that came from Soonyoung.

He looks grim, shakes his head, but doesn’t say any more. Probably because you’ve had this conversation a few times already, both of you too stubborn to give in. 

“Keep going,” he says, then, looking at you head on. “What else?”

All of a sudden, you don’t want to talk about what else. All of a sudden, you’re annoyed with him, his stupid face, this stupid elevator. “Do we have to do this?” Your voice has switched from somewhat reassuring to harsh – for want of a better word, angry. It makes his brown eyes a little round with surprise, his mouth parting a little.

“What?”

“What else and what if have been on my mind for three years, Soonyoung,” you say acidly. “Forgive me if I don’t really want to talk about it to your face.”

Again, his mouth opens a little bit, stays open as he tries to form words. Until he gives up, seals his lips and nods. “Alright. Okay. That’s fine.”

“I know it’s fine!” you cry out, only more angry that he won’t argue back. You’re lawyers, it’s what you do. And just to be petty, you add — “Besides, I bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about this anyway.”

Finally, his passive poker face drops, and he looks a little confused. “My what?”

Immediately, you regret opening your mouth, but it’s too late to back down. “Your girlfriend. You know, that girl from accounting.”

“The girl fr— You mean Rachel?” Soonyoung gapes at you, and something in you bridles, until he continues. “Mrs Choi, who's married to her wife and adopting a kid next year?”

Well, now you feel stupid as fuck.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he continues, and if you weren’t afraid to look at him right now, you’d swear he was hiding a smirk.

“Whatever. I don’t care. Why are we even talking about this?” you snap, irritated and embarrassed.

He still sounds smug. “You brought it up.”

“You sit with her every lunch hour,” you mutter, heat creeping up your neck. “I just assumed.”

“Well, there’s nothing there. So don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried! I don’t care who you date, Soonyoung!”

He looks a little taken aback, blinking once or twice, cockiness gone without a trace. “Wow,” he says, finally. If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you wouldn’t notice the slight tremble in his voice. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name since — ”

He cuts himself off, but you complete the sentence in your head — three years ago. Three years since you packed up and walked out of his life. It feels like a decade ago; it feels like last week. You’d been so sure that you wouldn’t see his face again after that, that it was a decided end of a full four years of your life. Until last year, when he’d waltzed straight back into your life, this time at your workplace.

“This is the new hire.” Your boss is speaking, but you’re still finishing up the last sentence on the document you’re working on, and you listen absently as he fires a couple instructions — “Jeon, you’ll show him around. Filing system, get him logged on, the works.”

You look up then, to cast Wonwoo a knowing smile, because he always gets lumped with showing around the newbies, but halfway to making eye contact with your friend, you catch the familiar tilt of a jaw, the soft lines of a nose you know so well.

You’ve seen Soonyoung in a hundred people since you left him. You’re always looking over your shoulder at the bus stop, at the grocery store, at the library, finding a tiny piece of him in everyone and everything, a tiny piece that lodges itself tight and sharp into your throat until you take a second look, until you see unfamiliar eyes or too dark hair or shorter legs. Until you find something to make you swallow, exhale, and keep walking.

Now, your second look doesn’t yield anything unfamiliar. Except maybe his hair, gone from blonde to black, but everything else — everything else. It’s him, and he looks just as shocked to see you as you are to see him. There’s a heavy moment that seems only heavy to the two of you, everyone else still talking, the boss still giving instructions, but you and Soonyoung are looking at each other, dumbfounded, and all you can think about is the distinct taste of bile in your throat and the tie he’s wearing is the one you got him for his birthday.

Your initial plan is to avoid him. He foils that plan within two hours, cornering you in the break room, whispering urgently, “I had no idea you worked here, I swear I’m not, like, following you or – ”

The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, and you just pin him with a blank stare. 

“I could quit.”

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish the sentence. “I’m not so butthurt that I can’t be a professional.”

“Right,” Soonyoung nods, breathing out a little. His lips are chapped. He never used to wear lip balm, just used to borrow yours. You hate yourself a little for remembering that.

The memory almost makes your lips twist with an sardonic smile. “I was so pissed when you showed up here.”

You can see his half smile, rueful and charming, through your peripheral vision. “I felt so bad about it, you know. But you just seemed annoyed when I saw you in the break room, so I figured you weren’t… mad or upset or anything.”

“I went straight from the break room to cry in the bathroom for fifteen minutes,” you admit truthfully. “I had to tell Wonwoo I had curry for breakfast.”

“You cried?”

You scowl. “I’m not saying it to be pitied, Soonyoung. I’m just saying, I’m not, like, some heartless jerk with no feelings. Of course I was upset.”

“I know that,” he says quickly, vehemently. “Of course I know that.” He hesitates, and then continues, words practically inching out of him. “It’s not really my place to ask, but… you and Wonwoo… are you guys…?”

“You’re right,” you say, and press your cheek onto your knees to fix him with your eyes. “It’s not your business. But that’d be hypocritical of me, so… no. No, we’re just friends. I’m friends with his girlfriend too, Cam, she works at the plant shop down the road.”

Soonyoung tilts his head back, lets out one of those breathy laughs that aren’t really laughs. “It’s so weird that you have new friends now.”

“Thanks,” you say, dripping with sarcasm.

“Not like that! I just mean I’m so used to – like, it used to be our friends, you know what I mean?”

“Not since three years ago,” you say with false lightness, because when you lost Soonyoung, you lost the friends he brought you too. You catch the glint of pity in his eyes again, and scoff. “It’s not a big deal. They were your friends first.”

Frowning, he speaks again. “First doesn’t matter. It didn’t matter to them either. Seungkwan said you were the one who stopped answering their calls.”

It’s true, and the feeling still burns a little, because Seungkwan and Jeonghan had called so many times. Even Vernon called a couple times, and you weren’t even that close to him, but Soonyoung has always attracted good people. Like calls to like. Maybe that’s why you ended up leaving.

“I was trying to make it easier,” you say bluntly., “for them to choose you.”

Your ex-boyfriend clicks his tongue, rakes a hand through his dark hair. “It’s not about sides, ___, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well, it felt like it at the time, alright?” Your words come out louder than you mean them to, and you pause, trying to quell your defensiveness. 

Soonyoung raises his hands in half-hearted surrender. “Alright. Alright.”

Something in your stomach feels acidic. Leaning your head back against the cool wall of the elevator, you manage to meet his eyes apologetically. “How – how are they, though? Seungkwan and everyone?”

Graciously, he ignores your quick show of temper. “They’re good. Seungkwan’s working freelance photography now. Jeonghan still hates his job, but keeps getting promoted anyway.”

Jeonghan. You told him you thought you were going to break up before you even told Soonyoung. You wonder if he remembers it, because that night is seared into your memory – New Year’s Eve, three years ago.

You’re much drunker than you ever intended to be when you finally find a place to sit in the cramped apartment, waved over by a sympathetic looking Jeonghan. He pats your head affectionately as you groan. 

“Feeling alright?”

“No,” you say elaborately.

Jeonghan never pries, which is probably what makes people tell him everything. He only raises his eyebrows at you, a hint of scepticism toying with his smile.

You look away, eyes drawn immediately to your boyfriend, laughing in the middle of the kitchen. Throwing his head back, squeezing his eyes shut, looking so fucking happy; when you see him like this, your heart always feels so incredibly warm and so incredibly full. 

Except today, there’s something else intertwining it, something similar to dread, and it causes the faint smile on your face to fade a little.

Jeonghan sees it, of course, and when you look back at him, his eyebrows only raise higher. 

You sink further into that horrible, looming feeling. “Jeonghan.”

“___.”

“I think I’m going to break up with him this year.”

If you didn’t know Jeonghan as well as you do, you’d think the information hadn’t affected him at all; his features remain completely impassive, but you catch the flash of surprise in his eyes. He stays quiet for a long time, the silence between you filled with thumping bass and indistinct conversation, until finally, he asks the only question there is to ask. “Why?”

It’s ridiculous, how one word can bring you to the verge of tears. But that one word holds so much weight – why would you break up with him? Why would you, when you’ve pictured a future with him a thousand times over? 

Why would you leave the best thing that ever happened to you?

You blink back the tears, and Jeonghan waits.

His voice is soft, but you still hear him under the din of the party. “Is this about your birthday?”

You shake your head quickly. “No.” You stop. “Maybe. It’s – there’s just – little stupid things.”

“Little things add up,” Jeonghan says gently. You hate how he’s already understanding.

“Sometimes – ” You swallow thickly. “Sometimes I just feel so far away from him.”

You don’t have to explain that you don’t mean physically. Because that’s part of it, but it’s not all of it, but without you saying that, Jeonghan knows. You barely notice when he takes your plastic red cup from your hands, setting it on the table next to him. “And I know he loves me, and he’d never hurt me on purpose, and – he’s been so good to me, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan only hums, waits for you to continue. And you do, the alcohol only pushing more words out of your mouth. “The distance,” you say, “is killing us.” You rub furiously at your eyes. “No matter how hard we try, Jeonghan, it’s not working, and I feel like – I’m the only one who can see that. He’s ignoring it, but we can’t keep going like this.”

Jeonghan hesitates for a second, looking torn, more torn than you’ve ever seen him look. “Do you still love him?”

Tears blur your vision again, but don’t quite escape this time. “I don’t know how to stop.”

When you kiss Soonyoung after the countdown, your cheeks are wet.

“Long distance.”

“What?”

“You asked what else,” you say, picking at your nails. “I think it was the distance. I think that’s what – you know. Broke us up.”

Soonyoung has that look in his eyes, the one where he wants to argue but knows he’s going to lose, knows that you’re right. He breathes out, licks his lips and tries to speak. “We tried so hard.”

It’s not even a counter-argument. You agree with him, even. The two of you were brilliant at long distance, until you weren’t. Hours-long video calls, surprise weekend visits, staying over for the holidays, until it all started collapsing. Weekly movie nights kept getting postponed. Visits had to decrease in number. You were missing each other’s calls – if one of you wasn’t working late, the other always was. It was like the entire universe was working against you both, and suddenly, you felt like a burden rather than a lover, and Soonyoung would probably say the same. It’s hard not to feel that way, when you’re celebrating your anniversary over FaceTime and both of you keep dozing off while the other talks.

In a way, Soonyoung is right: you both tried so hard. In a way, he’s so wrong: neither of you tried hard enough.

Towards the end of it all, you were too tired to fight. Both of you were. The breakup was a quiet affair, mostly. You brought it up first, standing in the kitchen of Soonyoung’s apartment after realising you had no idea where he kept his cereal bowls.

“Soonyoung?”

“Babe, I told you, it’s the third cupboard from the left,” he calls, but he’s rounding the corner to his kitchen anyway. He stops in his tracks when he sees your face, smile fading, and for a second, time freezes.

“Soonyoung,” you say again, quieter.

And he knows. “Don’t,” he says, faintly, but there’s no weight behind it, because he knows.

Tears are already brimming your eyes, and you’re wrapping your arms around yourself, shaking your head. “I can’t,” you say, and you’re not sure what you mean. I can’t end it. I can’t keep going.

The picture before him is enough for Soonyoung, and any defence, any fight he still had in him (because he’s always been the more tenacious) drains. He gives in, same as you. 

“Okay,” he says, in a voice that’ll haunt you for years to come, a clashing harmony of gentle and damning. “Okay.”

You try to formulate words. You fail. All that you can say is “Soonyoung.” before you trail off. 

You don’t finish. He gives you a tired, forced smile, says something about, “We had a good run, didn’t we?”, but you’re too busy trying to wrench the tears back into your eyes to focus properly. Your efforts are in vain, of course, tears slipping down your cheeks hot and heavy, no matter how much you try to stop.

“I’m sorry,” you say tearfully, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t be sorry.”

After that, he only helps you load your bags into your car and says thank you when you give him the house keys. He does everything so quietly, so methodically, so defeatedly. It’s like he’s just lost a war he’s been fighting for far too long.

It turns out that in the end, four years can be reduced down to this: two cardboard boxes, three bin bags, and two broken hearts.

It’s your fault, in technical terms. You finished this. You’re the one who said the words, or almost said them, the one who spelled out what was so obviously ignored. More than once, because you’d tried this before, six months ago. Soonyoung was the one who fought back. He’d said no, of course, that first time. He’d said no with tears in his eyes, like it was a surprise to him, like he couldn’t see it the way you saw it — that you were on two very different paths. 

Soonyoung didn’t believe in following diverging paths, he believed in forcing yourself straight ahead hand-in-hand, come hell or high water. He believed in it, until he didn’t, and then he let you go.

When it’s time for you to leave, he accepts the hug you can’t help but fling on him just before you step in the car. Both of your arms around each other, fitting into place like you have a hundred times before, but so much tighter and so much briefer this time. Soonyoung clings to you like he’s never going to see you again, because he isn’t. You cling to him like this is the last time you’ll ever hug him, because it is.

And then both of you are pulling away, laughing awkwardly at the wet patch you’ve left on his shirt, and then you’re getting in your car and he’s waving you off and it’s over, just like that.

“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” There’s an acerbic quality to Soonyoung’s laugh as he continues. “We broke up because of distance, and here we fucking are.”

There’s a metre and a half between you two.

“Maybe it was a dumb reason,” you say. Voicing the thought that’s tormented you since the day you drove away. Because maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was a temporary rough patch, and if you’d stayed, if you’d fought a little more and a little longer, you’d still have Soonyoung.

But you didn’t, and you don’t.

There’s a heavy expression on Soonyoung’s face, a strange mix of anger and confusion and guilt. “Maybe,” he says, at last. There’s the vaguest trace of bitterness, the little tiny sting that reminds you again that you’re the one who called it quits. 

“It felt like the weight of the world at the time,” you say ashamedly, squeezing your eyes shut for a second.

Soonyoung takes the chance and scoots closer to you, sitting against the wall with you, shoulder-to-shoulder. (How easy it would be to just rest your head there, as you’ve done a thousand times before.) “It can’t have been easy,” he says, patting your hand with his own. Warm and familiar in its unfamiliarity, which is when you realise you’ve misread him, for once – he’s not bitter. He’s empathetic.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Soonyoung continues softly, rubbing his eyes, “but God, I wish you’d just talked to me. Actually — I wish we’d talked to each other.”

“Yes, well,” you say dryly, wondering if he’s going to catch your reference, “I’ve always had a problem with communication.”

He catches it; it makes him pause, lift up his head, give you a tiny smile.

It takes you a minute to register that the seat across from you has been occupied. When you do look up, you realise Soonyoung’s mouth has been moving since he sat down, and you haven’t heard a word of it. Also, somewhere between the class you guys shared two days ago and his presence in the library this morning, his hair’s gone from a discreet dark brown to a particularly indiscreet blond.

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, taking out your earphones and setting down your pen. “What?”

“I said – do you have a problem with communication or something?” Despite the nature of his words, he’s practically beaming at you.

You blink at him, bewildered. “I mean… maybe? But — what?”

He holds up his phone. “Project,” he explains elaborately. “I’ve been texting, and I didn’t get a reply, and then I saw you over here, so I thought I’d ask.”

You frown, grabbing your phone. “I didn’t get any texts.”

Soonyoung mirrors your expression, tapping at his screen, and you’re struck by how much the blond suits him. As did the brown. As did the black he had a semester ago. Not that you’ve been keeping track, but it’s hard to not notice someone like Soonyoung. Even if the first time you talked to him was two days ago to organise the project you’ve been paired up for — you know him. Of him, at least.

He swivels his screen round to face you, showing you a contact with your name and what you quickly realise is almost your number. You smile a little awkwardly, tapping the last digit. “That’s meant to be a seven. You’ve got an eight.”

“Fuck,” he exhales, “that explains it. Who the hell have I been texting about litigation then?”

Something about his expression and his tone is so comical it makes you laugh, which surprises him a little – he glances up at you with a blatantly admiring smile, and he taps the edge of the desk. “Your eyes light up when you laugh, did you know?” And as quickly as he says it, he moves on, gesturing to your phone. “I’ll text you about the project, okay?”

He’s like a hurricane, and you’re trying your best to keep up. “Okay,” you agree confusedly, still hot-faced from the sudden compliment. “Yes. That’s — yes.”

As he gets up to leave again, he shoots you another one of those blinding, dazzling smiles, and sticks his hand out. “We’re friends now, right?”

His question sounds childishly sweet, and you can’t find it in yourself to do anything other than agree. 

Your one little reference sets you both off. You spend the next two hours talking and talking and talking, every other sentence beginning with “Remember when…”, as the two of you dredge up the long-buried memories of four long years spent together.

Soonyoung talks about the massive crush he had on you before you even got paired up for the project. You talk about how you never believed him, even when he did ask you out – it took three tries before you understood how serious he was. And then you remember the time Soonyoung sprinted from campus to his accommodation and back just to get you the calculator you forgot for your exam – and the time you both went to a frat party and ended up playing the most intense game of UNO in the bathroom with Vernon, which ended in a drunk Soonyoung trying to flush the cards down the toilet. 

He talks about the surprise party you threw for his birthday, and you talk about the time he tried to make you pancakes for National Girlfriend Day and failed horribly. You ate them anyway.

You don’t, however, talk about other things, even if you remember them. You remember Soonyoung kissing your forehead every morning he woke up next to you. You remember him buying your favourite flowers for your favourite vase every week. You remember coming home after a long day to food already delivered and paid for when he was working hours and hours away. You remember being so incredibly in love that it made you giddy and so in love it made you calm. And you don’t talk about it, just store it away somewhere as a reminder of what love is meant to feel like. If four years with Soonyoung brought you anything, it’s that: it taught you how to love and be loved.

When the recovery team finally arrives, you leave the elevator feeling like a new person. It doesn’t hurt when you look at Soonyoung anymore, there’s only a vague, warm fondness. And he can look you in the eye now, which he does. He smiles at you, sticks out his hand the same way he did all those years ago.

“We’re friends now, right?”

an / AHHH!!!!!! i know this fic is only like 5k but it took a lot out of me so i’d love to hear your thoughts. literally any thoughts. i wanted this fic to be longer but it happened this way and. what can i do. i may be the author but im NOT in control. it’s not a fic i’m 100% proud of but i think it’ll still hold a special place in my heart!!!! i love an angsty exes au.

anyway — this will be my last fic this year!!! see you all in 2025 and thank you so much for all the notes and all the reblogs and all the wonderful conversations this year i love you

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon

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[m-jelly]

hi jelly you don't have to do this if you don't want to, i just love all your levi fics soooo much!!!

can i request a smutty levi x fem reader in canon (she's a scout) where they're already in a relationship...and levi is a bit obsessed with her boobs? He is always pawing at her breasts, playing with them with his hands through her bra or shirt, suckling on them...during sexual moments he does that and sometimes he just plays and bounces them and sucks them casually in a non-sexual setting just for fun too...You can take the story line in whatever direction you please, as short scenarios with cuts, or continuous with plot, completely your choice!

Soft and squishy

Levi x fem reader

Canon world, being a couple, reader's chest is on the larger side, breast play, smut aspects.

Levi adores your chest so much, he just can't help himself and you love him touching it.

Had your straps gotten tighter? Was your shirt smaller than normal? Was your bra the wrong size? Whatever it was, Levi loved it. Your plump and big bouncing breasts were more incredible than ever, it seemed impossible for that to happen, but here Levi was eyeing your chest.

He slammed his fist against the wall making the cadets jump, it was so he could curb his desires for you. He clenched his jaw when you started jogging with your cadets, everything was bouncing and he just wanted to shove his face into your chest and bite.

"Team dismissed." He panted a little as the cadets sprinted off thankful that he'd let them go. He stormed over to you and sternly said your name causing your team to cower. "Meeting."

You eyed your wonderful boyfriend. People were scared, but you smiled brightly at him. "Sure!" You hurried after him. "Levi? Could you slow down a bit? You're moving really fast."

He turned, picked you up like a bride and then started racing to his room. He ignored your protests and questions. All he could think about was getting you alone. When he reached his room, he closed the door with a kick and sat you on his desk. He locked it and released a long sigh before repeating your name with a voice laced with arousal.

You shifted on his desk. "Everything okay Levi?"

He turned to you. "Explain yourself."

You frowned a little as you felt confused at his statement. "I don't follow?"

He raced over to you. "You know what I'm talking about."

You nibbled your lip. "I really don't." You looked up at him through your lashes. "I'm sorry if it's something bad."

He looped his finger around the strap over your breasts. "Your shirt is tighter than normal. Your bra doesn't fit you right like it's too small."

You whined a little. "You noticed." You laughed a little at your words. "Of course, you would notice." You sighed and looked up at him. "It's not my bra and shirt, that's why. I stayed over at my friend's house, remember?"

He nodded. "For a few days. I missed you."

"I missed you too!" You pulled at your shirt. "Well, I went in my gear and I helped her do some DIY, but unfortunately I got very dirty. She offered to clean my bra and shirt but it wasn't done before I had to come in today. She offered me her shirt and bra, but she's a smaller size than me. I had to make do."

He stared at your chest as he gulped hard. "Can I see?"

You undid the strap over your chest. "Sure."

Levi grabbed your hands. "W-Wait. M-may I?"

You pushed your chest out a little. "Of course, I know it's your favourite part."

He popped the button with ease and saw your breasts were threatening to fall out. He kept undoing more buttons to reveal your boobs being pressed and squished by the smaller bra. "Fuck..."

"Warned you it was bad."

He reached over and massaged. "Shit." He grabbed your shirt and ripped it open causing buttons to fly. "You are so sexy."

You gasped. "Levi, this is my friend's shirt."

He pulled your straps off. "I'll get her another one, it's fine." He pulled the shirt off you. He tugged on the bra, but it was on tight. "Damn thing." He pushed his hand under the band of the bra. "Your poor boobs must hurt."

You hummed in pleasure as he kissed and licked the tops of them. "They do. Could you help me?"

He unclipped your bra before you could fully get your request out. "Yes."

You moaned in relief as the bra slipped down your arms and your boobs were finally free. "Mm, better."

He lightly ran his finger over a red mark on your breast. "It marked you." He leaned closer and ran his tongue over the mark. "How dare it. Only I'm allowed to mark you."

You tangled your fingers in his hair as he began licking and sucking at your chest. You panted softly as your body began to tingle with pleasure. You shivered as he lifted your weighty breast allowing him better access to it. You mewled as his other hand gripped and squeezed your waist.

Levi pulled back with a pop. "More. I need more." He picked you up and sighed. "Come with me."

You held on tightly to him. "Levi, I'm too heavy to carry."

"You're perfection." He sat on the bed and put you on his lap. He nestled against the headboard before smiling at you. "Look at you."

You massaged your fingers in his hair. "You make my heart race."

"Good. I want you to love me and adore only me." He leaned closer and licked your nipple. "You're the only person I've ever deeply loved. You're my first in everything."

Your cheeks heated up. "Mine too." You hummed as he sucked on your peak. "I hope you don't grow tired of me."

He popped your nipple from his mouth and panted. "Are you kidding me? Never. Tch, silly brat." He gripped your left breast firmly and admired how it was trying to spill out between his fingers. "Look at you." He growled. "I fucking love you."

"I love you." You whimpered a moan as he pressed your boobs together so your nipples were close. You cried out in pleasure when he took both into his mouth. "Le-Levi."

He released them and began softly massaging. "Do you feel good?"

You purred. "Yes." You nipped your lip. "Can I touch you?"

He blushed. "Yes." He grunted and felt his heart racing when he heard you undoing his belt. His breath hitched when you grasped his erection. "Mm." He moaned your name. "You feel so good." He panted as you moved your hand up and down his smooth hot shaft. He moaned your name.

You kissed his cheek before kissing him passionately. You purred as you adored how hot and needy he was for you. You shifted a little causing Levi to growl. "Don't worry, my boobs are not going anywhere."

He grabbed your back and yanked you closer so your breasts were in his face. He dragged his hands over your body and pushed up your chest. He showered them with kisses and began massaging them again. He latched onto the top of your breast, his tongue moving against the soft delicate skin.

He flicked your nipple with his tongue and lovingly sucked it. He hummed in delight. He started panting against your chest causing your skin to burn with pleasure. His moans changed, he was close to the end. He was always so flustered when you doted on him. He grunted and shifted under you.

Levi moaned your name as he came against your hand, his stomach and yours. He released your breasts and hummed. He panted a moment as he came down from his high. He lifted you and laid you down. "Stay here."

You giggled as he ran to the bathroom before returning to you. You sighed as he started cleaning you. "Thank you."

He placed the cloth down before crawling over you. "I want to eat you."

You arched your back a little. "I'm all yours."

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @dreamerofthewest @abiatackerman @minminroie

[steveseddie]

pencil me in

written for the @steddiebingo kissing booth mini event | prompt: heart | rating: t | wc: 1,5k | tags: pre relationship, misunderstandings, dramatic eddie

read on ao3

Eddie arrives at Steve’s house with a mission– he’s finally going to ask him out on a date. A Valentine’s Day date where he’ll romance the hell out of Steve.

If he says yes, that is.

Eddie has his doubts, of course he does, but he also has reasons to believe this might work out. Reasons to believe that Steve might like him back.

Those are what gets Eddie to the front door where he rings the doorbell before whatever doubts he has make him turn around and leave.

His resolve falters slightly when Steve opens the door, dressed in sleeping clothes but somehow still looking as beautiful as ever. But he bounces right back when he notices that the shirt Steve is wearing is his Black Sabbath shirt. Little things like these are what make Eddie think he might actually score a date today.

“Eddie, hey.” Steve flashes him that lopsided grin that Eddie thinks he saves just for him. Another one of those little things.

Eddie waves, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Hi, Stevie.”

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Steve says, pushing his hair back. A stubborn strand of hair falls back over his forehead, making him huff in annoyance. “We– we didn’t have plans, did we?”

Eddie tsks. “I’m offended you think you could forget you and I had plans. Do you care so little about me?” He asks, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

Steve’s eyes dart to his lips for a split second before he rolls them. “Okay, drama queen,” he says, fondness lacing his tone. “Do you wanna come in or not? I was just about to have coffee.”

“Well, when you offer so nicely,” he teases, patting Steve’s cheek as he steps into the house.

He follows him to the kitchen and watches as he pours coffee in two mugs. The whole time Eddie is nervously playing with his rings, thinking about what he’s here to do.

He stops only when Steve hands him one of the mugs. “There you go. There’s milk in the fridge and I already added two spoonfuls of sugar.”

Eddie can’t help but melt like he does every time Steve remembers details about him– the way he likes his coffee, that he hates pickles, that strawberry is his favorite milkshake. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, walking to the fridge while Steve takes a sip from his own coffee. Black, like a heathen.

See? Eddie remembers things about Steve too. Then again, he’s also in love with the guy.

Time to do something about that, Eddie thinks.

“So, uh, Valentine’s Day is coming up,” he says, trying to steer the conversation where he wants it.

Steve leans back against the counter. “Mhm,” he hums into his coffee. “Are you going door to door telling people Valentine’s Day is a capitalistic holiday and an excuse for companies to make more money?”

Eddie clutches his chest. “Harrington, did you actually pay attention to my rants back in school?”

Steve chokes on his coffee, a slight pink tinge shading his cheeks. “N–No, I mean, I might’ve heard some of it, you’re loud, man. ‘S not like I had a choice.”

“Sure, Stevie,” Eddie says, shooting him a dimpled grin. “Anyway, no, I didn’t come here to lecture you about holidays being capitalist days of overconsumption.”

Steve tilts his head. “Why did you come here then?”

Eddie’s stomach churns as he realizes this is it. His fingers tighten around his coffee and he remembers he didn’t grab the milk. He thinks that something to do while asking Steve out might make things a little easier.

“Yeah, so I was thinking–” he starts, reaching for the fridge door, but the rest of the words die in his throat when he notices something on it.

See, like the Mother Hen that he is, Steve keeps a calendar on his fridge where he writes down everything from work shifts and doctor’s appointments to after-school pick-ups and group movie nights.

The first time Eddie saw the calendar, he wanted to call Steve a dork and tease him for having to keep track of his kids like that. But when he saw his name there, something warm bubbled up in his chest at the reminder that he was part of the group, of their lives, of Steve’s life. That they didn’t drop him as soon as the Upside Down was defeated. And just like that, making fun of Steve didn’t seem so important anymore.

Now, several months later, Eddie’s name is all over the calendar, but this time, that’s not what shuts him up.

No, it’s the word date written on the tiny square for February 14th, and the heart drawn around it.

Of course Steve has plans for Valentine’s Day. Of course it’s too late for Eddie to ask him out.

Of fucking course the moment he finally decides to make a move on Steve, he’s already got himself a date with someone else.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, snapping Eddie out of his spiral. He tears his eyes from that damn heart and glances at Steve, who’s waiting for him to finish what he was saying.

To finish asking him out. Except, he can’t do that anymore.

“I– I have to go,” he says instead, leaving his untouched coffee on the counter and backing away.

“What?”

“Yeah, I forgot I– I have to help Wayne with– uh, something.”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together. “Eddie–”

“Thanks for– for the coffee,” Eddie stammers out.

Steve huffs. “You didn’t even drink it.”

He takes two steps towards Eddie, who takes two steps back. “Sorry, I– I have to go.”

“Weren’t you gonna ask something about Valentine’s Day?” Steve asks when Eddie pivots and heads towards the door.

“Nope! Bye, Steve. Have fun with your date!”

“My– date?” Steve’s voice is laced with confusion. “Eddie, wait!”

Eddie doesn’t want to. He wants to leave, but Steve grabs him by the arm and pulls him to an abrupt stop.

He still won’t meet Steve’s eyes, though. At least not until Steve gives him no other choice by cupping his cheeks and forcing Eddie to look at him. He can’t help the way his stomach flutters at the touch and how close their faces are like this, and he has to remind himself that Steve has a date. This doesn’t mean anything.

“Why did you really come here, Eds?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Steve huffs, his thumb brushing over Eddie’s cheek. “Because for a moment it seemed like you were here to ask me out on a Valentine’s Day date.”

Eddie groans, averting his gaze. “Steve, I said it doesn’t matter now–”

“Yes, it does!” Steve repeats, his arms falling to his sides in frustration.

Yeah, well. Eddie is frustrated too, damn it.

He crosses his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t because you already have a date!”

“Says who?”

“Your calendar, Steve!” He snaps. “The heart? The date you’ve got scheduled for Friday?”

“Yeah,” he says, “with you!”

What?

Eddie blinks. “But– you haven’t asked me.”

“I was going to,” Steve says softly. “But then you beat me to it.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, his heart picking up speed. Steve was going to ask him out. Holy shit.

“Yeah. So, are you gonna finish what you started or should I?” Steve says, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a tiny smirk.

This time, Eddie doesn’t hesitate, his doubts gone now. “Stevie, do you want to go on a date with me on Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah, Eds, I do,” he says, his smirk turning into that lopsided grin he saves just for Eddie.

He only gets a glimpse of that grin before Steve swoops in and presses their lips together, softly at first. When Eddie makes a noise in the back of his throat and grabs a hold of his own Black Sabbath shirt to pull Steve closer, he kisses him harder, his tongue darting out and swiping along Eddie’s bottom lip. Eddie parts his lips, letting him in. He wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders and stumbles back a few steps until his back hits the fridge, knocking a couple of magnets to the floor.

At the sound, Steve pulls back, his eyes focusing on something next to Eddie’s head as his lips twitch upwards. Before Eddie can ask what he’s looking at, Steve grabs the marker stuck to the fridge and writes something on the calendar.

Curious, Eddie turns his head. Now where they used to say just date Steve added something else.

Date with Eddie.

That same warm and fluttery feeling from the first time he saw his name there comes back, only tenfold. And so does the need to tease Steve.

“Can’t believe you had our date scheduled even before you asked me,” he says with a shake of his head. “That’s pretentious of you, sweetheart.”

Steve shrugs. “I was right, wasn’t it?” He says, grinning smugly.

With a laugh, Eddie agrees. “Damn right, you were,” he says, pulling Steve in for another kiss.