#like instead of saying i’m going to sleep i just say going to sleep

[beloveds-embrace]

Hello! Thank you for feeding us the angstier timeline of the dukedom au!! I live for angst

You don’t have to entertain this thought ofc, the angst and how good you write for my brain worms worming. I just can’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if König wasn’t there and instead the duchess had to suffer all on her own

(Or better yet, if he was there but ended up also leaving the duchess for someone else or was killed protecting the duchess)

Reader having to endure everything on her own which eventually leads her to falling terribly ill and in the olden times we all know how a simple cold could turn into more and yield deadly results

The stress combined with the overall lack of appetite (and the food not cooked well at times to add to that… more angst (: ) as well as other factors rendered the reader terribly ill

Maybe she fell into a body of water and had to save herself, or maybe she was caught up in a rainy storm on a walk with no one offering her warm clothing or a cover up until she eventually managed to get back that leads to pneumonia

Maybe she gets injured but hides it until the blood loss gets to her and infection sets in

Just so many options and flavours of angst

Anyway, thank you for sharing your writing with us! Agin, you don’t have to engage with this, so please don’t feel pressured!! I’m just having many thoughts and am currently going feral /pos

WAITTT WAIT I LOVE THIS

Because imagine clinging to König, to your one singular source of comfort in a manor that has no room for you, and in the end, he leaves as well.

You had been telling yourself that you had been simply more imaginative lately; König was simply busy, he wasn’t growing more and more distant! The way he looks at you now compard to before hasn’t changed. At all. His responses were in hums and nods, noncommittal but that’s okay, sometimes you did not feel like speaking- like existing- either.

Until he stands in your office, the light from the windows reflecting off his armour. You had been happy to see him, a smile on your lips to be in the company of the only one who didn’t seem to despise you.

When he tells you that he will not be doing this anymore, it feels, for a very split second, like your heart shatters into a thousand tiny pieces. You can feel the shattering of each, single piece.

Better place. He says, pity in his eyes but no regret. He pauses for a second. I wish… the best for you.

König leaves you like that; staring after his back in abject horror. Every step he takes echoes in your ears, until you are left alone in your office, hands trembling, and your ears ringing.

After that day, everything practically crumbled. You crumbled.

Without him, the weight of your isolation became unbearable. The disdain of the household grew sharper once it became known your only solace was no longer there, the whispers more cutting. Meals came cold, uneaten. Sleep eluded you, and the constant stress gnawed away at your strength.

One fateful day, you went outside in a desperate bid to escape the suffocation. The air was crisp, the sky gray with the promise of rain, and yet you still did not turn back. You wandered farther than you intended, your steps aimless even as the first drops began to fall.

The storm came quickly afterwards, drenching you to the bone. Your thin cloak offered little protection, and the chill seeped deep into your skin. By the time you returned, trembling and soaked, no one was waiting to help you. No fire had been lit in your chambers; no warm blanket was offered, and no company was given.

The fever began that very night, burning through you with a strength that left you bedridden. Days passed in a haze of pain and delirium. The wound you had hidden- an injury from your fall in the storm- festered, the infection spreading rapidly through your weakened body. You hadn’t the strength to call for help, nor the faith that anyone would come even if you did hoarse out your voice in your attempts.

Only when your condition worsened and you really, truly disappeared out of view, the household finally took notice. Whispers swirled, faint echoes beyond the fog of your fading consciousness, and everyone became alert of your absence, meals returned untouched and maids reporting it’s weeks since they’d helped you with anything.

John sat in his study, nursing a glass of whiskey as the fire crackled in the hearth. He told himself your absence didn’t matter- that you were retreating because you’d finally realized the truth. But when he closed his eyes, he saw your face as it had been on your wedding day- hopeful, trusting, and unaware of the coldness that would greet you.

Simon found himself pacing the halls around your room more often than usual. He would glance toward your chambers but never step inside, convincing himself it wasn’t his concern. And yet, something about the silence unsettled him.

Johnny had begun to notice the meals sent to your chambers were left untouched, the plates returned barely touched or sometimes not taken at all. He hadn’t cared at first, dismissing it as you sulking because no one was giving you attention. But now the thought lingered- had you even been eating at all?

Even Kyle, with his sharp tongue and sharper gaze, felt the unease creeping in. He found himself hesitating when passing your door, his usual indifference cracking as guilt gnawed at him.

In the end, it’s Kyle who couldn’t stand the silence anymore. He stepped into your room, telling himself it was simply to prove to himself that you were fine and just- sulking.

The sight stopped him cold.

The room was dim, the curtains drawn, and the air heavy with the faint, sour scent of illness. You lay motionless on the bed, your body shockingly frail, your skin damp with fever. Your hair clung to your forehead, and your breathing was shallow, each breath rattling in your chest.

You didn’t even notice him. Not even when he turned around and barked sharply for John, for a doctor now. You didn’t notice him at all. Not him, not John or Simon or Johnny when they appear while the maids run to get the doctor.

(Kyle will never tell anyone how utterly sick he felt upon seeing the dried tear-tracks on your face. The unfinished, rotten meals near the bed. The tear spots on your pillows. He will never, ever forget today. He doubts any of the others will be able to do so, either.)

[d-z20]

The Familiar's Return (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: After a quiet night takes an unexpected turn, you find yourself drawn back into the orbit of two witches who once owned your soul. Your bond as their Familiar begins to pull tighter, reigniting flames you’d long buried. In the shadows of magic and desire, you must navigate old connections, simmering tension, and a power that refuses to let you go.

- OR -

You flirt with Alice to make Agatha and Rio jealous so they fuck you to put you back in your place

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, bratty reader, top agathario, magical restraints, smidge of begging, mention of orgasm denial, fingering (Reader recv)

Words: 3.7k

A/N: totally didn’t write reader flirting with Alice because I want to flirt with her. This was written for this request that's been sat in my inbox for a while oops

AO3 | Masterlist

You’re lying on your bed, unwinding after a long, mundane day. A book in your hands, a mug of tea on the bedside table—just another ordinary evening. But then your eyelids grow heavy, and the pull of sleep becomes too much. You set the book down, curling into the warmth of your bed and closing your eyes for a moment...

The next thing you know, you’re waking up with a groan. You blink a few times, confusion clouding your mind. It’s dark, but the air feels different—charged somehow. You stretch and sit up, a little too quickly. That’s when you hear a voice above you.

"Uhhhh, guys, does the road usually have people just lying around sleeping?"

You blink again. The road? You glance around, confusion rising. This isn’t your room. You’re not even in your house. Instead, you’re on a strange dirt path, surrounded by towering trees that stretch endlessly in every direction, bathed in an eerie, otherworldly light.

You rub your eyes. That’s when you see her: Rio Vidal, one of your old owners.

She grins, flashing a wild, flirtatious smile. She’s clearly surprised, but there’s no hiding her amusement at seeing you again. “Well, well, look who decided to show up.”

The familiar tug at your soul confirms it: Agatha is here too. You don’t even need to see her to feel the connection. That bond... it’s been so long. You’d almost forgotten how strong it could be.

That must be how you ended up here. Their reunion summoning you to their side. Just when you thought you were free of their messes. Fucking brilliant.

Before you can finish that thought, a witch with red streaks in her hair walks over, frowning down at you.

“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing on the Witches’ Road?”

You freeze. The Witches’ Road? You knew it to be a con—something Agatha had fabricated to further her own power. But this place? It looks real. Too real. So what the hell are they doing here? And where exactly is here?

"Hey, answer the question!" The witch snaps, her tone sharper this time. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

You smirk up at her, unbothered. “Oh, just your average wanderer, looking for a bit of fun.” You stand up, brushing yourself off and raising an eyebrow at the confused faces around you. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Familiar extraordinaire, at your service.” You bow, bringing her hand to your lips for a playful kiss. “I was Agatha’s and Rio’s little pet back in the day.”

The witch blushes at your gesture, and the rest of the coven stares at you, unsure how to respond. But before anyone can say anything, Agatha’s voice cuts through the awkward silence.

“Alice, sit back down,” she orders, before her attention shifts to you. “What are you doing here, Y/N?”

You meet her gaze, a cocky grin spreading across your face. “Guess I got summoned by your delightful company,” you say, glancing at Rio. “Seems like the connection still works, even after all this time.”

You cock your head to the side, glancing around at the others. "Well, this is... interesting. Always thought the Witches’ Road was a little too good to be real, right, Agatha?" You wink at her, and Rio laughs from beside Agatha, clearly entertained by your antics.

"Oh, this is definitely real," Rio says with a smirk. "Good to see you haven’t changed."

You flash a wicked grin. "Oh, you have no idea just how much I’ve changed, darling." The words hang heavy with implication. Before, you’d followed them around like a loyal, obedient plaything. Not anymore. Tonight, you were going to have some fun with them.

As the others chat, you notice Alice still watching you. Her gaze is intense; curiosity piqued.

You sit next to her, leaning back and crossing your arms to flex your muscles. “I have to admit, I’m intrigued by you, Alice. What's your story? I’ve always had a soft spot for women with a bit of edge.”

Alice blushes again, trying to maintain composure.

Rio laughs, clearly enjoying the way you’re provoking Agatha. She plays along, her voice laced with amusement. “You are exactly their type, Alice,” she says with a wink.

Agatha glares at you from across the fire, but there’s something more in her eyes—a flicker of jealousy she can’t hide. It’s that same old dance, and you’ve missed it. You love pushing her buttons, even when she tries to act indifferent.

Alice clears her throat, breaking the tension. She eyes the symbol on your arm, her voice dipping into something more serious. “That mark... what is it? Some sort of spell?” She lifts her sleeve to reveal a small tattoo. “My mother made me get this. Protection, she said.”

You glance at her arm, then back to her face, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Protection, huh? That’s cute.”

You lean in just a little, your fingers tracing lightly over her tattoo. “But no, my mark isn’t a spell. It’s the sign of a familiar. A scar that binds your soul to another.”

You let the words sink in, your fingers lingering a moment too long on her skin. Alice shivers slightly, caught off guard by your touch, her breath hitching. You enjoy the effect you’re having on her, the flush on her face making it all the more satisfying.

“So,” you ask teasingly, “do all you witches have a little family tradition of getting tattoos, or is that just an Alice thing?”

Alice laughs nervously, trying to hide her growing discomfort, but you can see the tension building. She’s trying so hard to stay in control, but you’re making it harder and harder to resist.

The rest of the coven continues chatting, but you remain focused on Alice, your body language making your intentions clear. You lean in closer, your touch deliberate, your words sweet but laced with something far less innocent.

You glance over at Agatha and Rio, seeing jealousy on both of their faces now. You knew flirting with someone else would get a rise out of them. Agatha’s eyes narrow, while Rio hides her irritation behind a smirk.

But Agatha’s had enough. She stands abruptly, her voice laced with fury. “Alright, pet,” she says, her tone unmistakably warning. “We need to have a word.”

You stand, cocking an eyebrow at her. “Oh, do we now? I’m not sure I’m in the mood for a ‘word.’”

Before you can protest further, Rio grabs your arm, pulling you away from the fire and into the shadows, out of the coven’s sight.

“I guess duty calls,” you tease, glancing back at the others as Rio pulls you further into the dark.

Once you’re out of sight, Agatha steps forward, her eyes smouldering with frustration. “You’ve been all over her since you got here,” she growls, her voice thick with something possessive. “Have you forgotten you belong to us?”

You pull back, laughing lightly. “Oh, really? You think I’m just going to roll over and—”

Before you can finish, Rio’s lips crash against yours—hard and demanding. Agatha follows suit, her kiss searing as she pulls you between them. The bond crackles to life around you, familiar and undeniable. Oh, how you’ve missed this.

You give in for a moment, allowing yourself to be swept up in the intensity. But then, with a mischievous smirk, you pull away. “As much as I’m enjoying this,” you say, breathless, “I’d rather be doing it with Alice.” You turn on your heel, leaving them standing in stunned silence. It was a lie, of course. Another taunt to see how far you can push them before they make you submit.

Agatha calls after you, fury and desire mixing in her voice. “You can’t just walk away from us.”

You roll your eyes, halting mid-step and turning to face them. “Oh, am I supposed to beg for your attention, Agatha? Like the good old days?”

Rio steps in, her playful side still evident as she pulls you closer. “We’re giving you the option to do it willing; we could just make you. You’re still our familiar, after all.”

pleasemakemepleasemakemepleasemakemepleasemakemepleasemakeme

You lean back, eyes glittering with defiance. "I’m not begging for anything from either of you." At least not yet. You turn and walk back to the fire.

As you sit, you flick your wrist, conjuring up a spread of food and drink. The coven watches in awe, unsure how to process your sudden display of magic.

You smirk, explaining with a sly grin, “Being a familiar means I can do things other witches can’t. Just a perk of the job.”

The coven, unsure whether to be impressed or confused, starts reaching for drinks and food, the alcohol loosening them up. Soon, laughter fills the air, and their earlier wariness is forgotten.

You continue to flirt with Alice, enjoying every blush you pull from her, knowing you’ll face the consequences later.

—

By the time the fire burns low and the coven is scattered around in various states of drunken stupor, you’re left with Agatha and Rio—both simmering with desire, their eyes locked on you.

"Okay, you’ve had your fun," Rio murmurs, voice thick with something darker. "But now, it’s our turn."

Agatha steps closer, her lips curling into a sly smirk as she tilts her head, eyes dark with challenge. "Still think you’re in control, pet?" she purrs, her voice low and full of authority. 

Before you can retort, Rio sidesteps you, her presence a heat against your back. Her fingers trail along your shoulders, her touch feather-light, but there’s no mistaking the strength behind it. Her voice, husky and teasing, whispers close to your ear. "Oh, love, you don’t seem to understand. This is our game, and you don’t get to change the rules."

You scoff, trying to summon some of that bravado from earlier.

But before you can say anything, Rio’s magic snaps into place. Vines, glowing faintly with her energy, erupt from the earth, curling around your ankles and locking you in place. You glance down, startled, but the roots are unyielding, pulsing with her power. You tug once, then twice, and realise you’re trapped.

Agatha moves to stand in front of you, her piercing gaze meeting yours. She doesn’t touch you, but the weight of her presence alone has your pulse quickening. "Not so bold now, are we?" she says, her tone mocking, but there’s an undeniable heat behind her words.

Rio leans against you from behind, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as her hands rest on your hips, holding you firmly. "Don’t worry," she murmurs, her voice almost soothing if not for the edge of danger. "We’ll remind you where you belong."

To your shock, they don’t focus on you. Instead, Agatha steps into Rio’s space, their lips meeting in a slow, deliberate kiss, filled with hunger and command. It’s magnetic, their power crackling in the air, and you feel your body react against your will, heat flooding to your core, and you squeeze your legs together.

"Enjoying the view?" Agatha asks, her voice dripping with amusement as she pulls back just enough to smirk at you.

While your time apart means they’ve lost the ability to peer into your mind, they can still pick up on your feelings, especially when they’re this strong.

You glare, trying to fight the growing heat pooling in your core, but your voice betrays you. "Is that all you’ve got?" you challenge, though your voice wavers slightly.

Rio chuckles, a rich, sultry sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Still so defiant. Let’s see how long that lasts." With a small twitch of her finger, the vines force your legs apart, removing what little relief you had given yourself.

Agatha leans in again, her kiss with Rio deepening, more passionate now, as if daring you to watch, to feel your own irrelevance in the moment. You bite your lip, fighting the whimper, threatening to escape as you struggle against the vines keeping you rooted.

And then, Rio’s magic flares again. The roots tighten, pulling you slightly forward, locking you in place with perfect precision to watch them. Your arms tingle with the same sensation, her magic wrapping around your wrists as if sensing you might lash out.

Agatha glances back at you, her eyes alight with mischief. "What’s the matter, love? Jealous?" She tilts her head mockingly. "You didn’t seem to want our attention before, did you? Now you’re going to beg for it."

You feel a flush of frustration mixed with undeniable arousal. "I don’t beg," you snap, though the words lack conviction.

Rio arches an eyebrow, turning just enough to glance at you. "Oh, you will." Her voice is a promise, smooth and unrelenting. She leans back into Agatha, her hands trailing along the other witch’s waist, pulling her closer. Suddenly your legs feel cold and you look down to see your pants have vanished. There’s a vine snaking its way up your leg and between your thighs. It starts to stroke up and down your crotch, and you buck your hips trying to get more pressure. You thought you’d gained at least a scrap of dignity after all those years apart, yet here you are grinding down on a fucking plant, making it impossibly wet from your arousal, just because they’re making out in front of you.

Their kisses grow hungrier, more deliberate, and every movement feels calculated to remind you of your place. The tension in the air is suffocating, their bond radiating power and control. You watch as Agatha’s nails rake lightly down Rio’s back, eliciting a small gasp from the witch.

You tug harder at the magical restraints, a desperate sound bubbling in your throat despite your pride. Your body betrays you, heat pooling in every nerve as the intensity of their connection pulls at something deep within you.

Agatha turns to you again, her lips swollen from Rio’s kisses, her smirk sharper than ever. "Say it," she commands simply, her voice firm but not unkind.

You shake your head stubbornly, your pride warring with the growing need inside you. "Not a chance," you manage, though your voice is barely a whisper.

Rio chuckles again, her magic tightening the restraints around you just enough to keep you aware of how completely at their mercy you are. She presses a kiss to Agatha’s neck, murmuring something you can’t quite hear but feel in the air—a promise, a plan.

They turn to you together now, their combined presence overwhelming. Agatha steps closer, her hand reaching out to cup your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. "You’re trembling," she observes, her tone teasing. Her fingers trail down your jaw, leaving a tingling heat in their wake. "You can end this, you know. All you have to do is beg."

You bite your lip, your pride a fragile shield against their dominance. "I don’t—"

Rio cuts you off, her magic surging, pulling you taut against the vines. "Try again," she says softly, but the threat in her tone is clear.

Agatha’s lips brush against your ear, her breath warm and sending shivers down your spine. "Say it, pet. Or maybe we’ll just leave you here to simmer while we enjoy each other properly."

The thought sends a sharp pang through you; the idea of being left out, of missing their touch, their power, their presence, is more unbearable than you want to admit. Your resolve crumbles just slightly, enough for your voice to tremble as you whisper, "Please..."

Agatha’s eyes light up, her smirk widening as she leans back to survey you. "Not good enough," she chides.

Rio steps in, her hands on your shoulders now, grounding you. "Louder, love," she purrs. "We want to hear it."

Your pride shatters under their combined weight, and you finally let the words tumble from your lips. "Please, Agatha... Rio... I—" You swallow hard, your voice cracking with a mixture of need and surrender. "I need you. Please."

Rio lets the magical restraints fall away, disappearing into the ground, and Agatha’s lips come crashing down on yours. The kiss is fierce, hungry—more than just a reclaiming, it's a possession. You feel your mark burn with desire, the familiar sting that always came with them, only this time it’s more intense, more urgent. They embrace you fully now, and you melt into the sensation, every inch of you on fire, every breath shared between the three of you.

Rio’s hands are everywhere, teasing, possessive, pulling you tighter against her. She presses you into Agatha’s chest, feeling the magic thrumming in your veins, making every part of you ache for more. Agatha’s fingers tangle in your hair, tilting your head back, allowing Rio to trail kisses down your throat, her teeth grazing your skin, setting your nerves ablaze. It’s overwhelming, all-consuming—your resistance dissolving entirely under their combined touch.

The moment Rio pushes a finger inside you, you feel your walls tighten immediately. A benefit of being their familiar was how easily they could make you cum; the downside was it also meant they were the only people who could make you cum, so in all your decades apart, you haven’t been able to climax even once. Talk about orgasm denial.

They can feel your desire, the way your body trembles in anticipation, and they’re more than happy to give you exactly what you need. Rio, her eyes burning with possessive hunger, inserts another finger, pressing her palm firmly against your clit. Her fingers flex, teasing, sending waves of heat through you as they start to move, driving you crazy with the slow, deliberate pressure. Every touch from her feels like an electrifying promise, like the world is collapsing into the space between you. You can barely focus, drowning in the sensation as she doesn’t stop, guiding you into a rhythm that has you gasping for more.

Meanwhile, Agatha is relentless. Her lips find yours again, but this time it’s different—her kiss is sharper, more urgent. She bites down on your bottom lip, hard enough to sting, but it’s the kind of pain you crave, the kind of roughness that always ignites something dark and hungry within you. You gasp, the sensation intensifying as she takes advantage of your breathless moment. Her teeth graze your lip one more time, a reminder that she holds the power in this dance.

Before you can process, she pushes her tongue into your mouth, deep and possessive. The kiss becomes an exploration, a claim, as Agatha takes what she wants, making sure you feel every movement, every shift of her body against yours. You kiss her back hungrily, matching her intensity, responding to the pull of her control. It’s familiar—this frantic need to give in, to let go, to surrender. And yet, it feels different this time—there’s no escape, no hesitation, only the heat of their presence enveloping you, pulling you further under their spell.

Your breath hitches as Rio shifts her focus, pressing harder into you, moving with purpose, her touch as commanding as Agatha’s kiss. It’s a beautiful chaos—the push and pull of their desire, the control they hold over you. You can’t tell where one touch ends and the other begins, everything blending together into one overwhelming sensation that leaves you gasping for air, for more.

"That's it," Agatha murmurs against your lips, her voice low and throaty. "You’ll always be ours, and ours alone."

The words sink deep, pushing you past the breaking point. You finally let go completely, surrendering to the tidal wave of sensation. Your entire body tenses, every nerve lit up with a white-hot intensity as you reach your peak. It’s as if time itself halts in reverence of the moment, and all you can feel is them—their hands, their lips, their presence anchoring you even as they unravel you. It’s overwhelming, raw, and impossible to contain. Your breath catches, breaking into a shuddering gasp as your orgasm consumes you, leaving you trembling in their hold.

The aftermath is a blur of warmth and relief, your body melting against theirs as the world slowly rights itself. Still high on the ecstasy of your climax, clarity seeps in through the haze. For the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself think about how much you’ve missed them—not just their touch, but them, the soul-deep connection that once defined your bond. The longing you’d buried, the emptiness you’d ignored, rushes to the surface, overwhelming in its magnitude.

Agatha’s voice cuts through the quiet, low and familiar, sending shivers down your spine. “We’ve missed you too.”

You blink, startled, because her lips haven’t moved. The realisation strikes you like a spark catching flame—they’re in your mind again. The bond has fully reignited, glowing brighter than ever, their thoughts brushing against yours like the softest caress.

A grin tugs at your lips, even as a lump forms in your throat. For so long, you’ve felt stretched too thin, as though your soul had grown just a little too large, leaving a space that nothing else could fill. You hadn’t realised just how incomplete you’d been until now, until this. With them.

For the first time in what feels like forever, the missing pieces are back in place. The weight of their presence settles over you, grounding and comforting, like the steady pulse of a heartbeat you’d forgotten you needed. You close your eyes and lean into them, basking in the completeness of it, a smile playing at your lips as the warmth of their bond wraps around you.

Rio chuckles softly, her fingers brushing through your hair. “You feel it too, don’t you?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. There’s no need to say anything. They already know, as deeply and completely as you do. Whatever comes next, you’re no longer alone—and that, more than anything, is what you’ve missed the most.

-----

I know you didn't ask for the soft finish but I'm an absolute sucker for a happy ending

[whorelaud]

fwb!rafe not realizing how beautiful you are until now, the apprehension making him nothing but crave you more; take you right then and there, even if it meant doing it in the middle of the library  warnings very suggestive

Rafe’s eyes fixed on you within the flutter of his eyelashes, gaze burning through your flesh. The boy’s face buried in his arms that were plopped on the table, invading your space as his elbow slightly brushed your forearm. The gesture was subtle, barely even there, yet, it didn’t fail to knock a breathless sigh out of your chest, instantly growing flustered to the closure of his touch. 

Knowing Rafe, this was quite rare, besides the sleepless nights you spent together, the boy offered little to no comfort, protecting the line you both chose not to cross when this whole ‘sleeping together’ thing started. It began with tutoring lessons that ended with passionate makeout sessions, eventually developing into something more, with your clothes tossed on the floor while he fucked you senseless into your bed, until you no longer could coherent words out. 

However, that instantly oscillated, with your heart skipping a beat everytime he offered to stay, justifying his words with a ‘I’m too tired to leave,’ leading to you both cuddled up on your bed, forgetting that this was nothing more than a fling, a college hookup that you’ll grow to regret. That wasn’t the only thing, though, he started having lunch with you, waiting for you lectures to finish, choosing to spend his precious time rotting in your dorm room instead of going out to parties. 

And that, it really stirred up your emotions, creating all sorts of confusing feelings for you. Therefore, it was no surprise that you felt nervous under his gaze, as he admired you with every ounce of endearment, while he waited for you to finish the presentation you were working on. 

“You’re so pretty,” Rafe suddenly blurted out, causing you to come to a halt, all while processing what he said, afraid you heard him wrong. 

“What?” You shot back through a breath, anxiously batting your eyelashes at him. Rafe stifled out a laugh, amused by how flustered you grew due to his words.

“I said,” he started, gaze trailing down to your hand, as his fingers toyed with the rings hugging your digits. “You’re pretty.”

“Shut up.” You grumbled, avoiding his gaze, and focusing your attention on the laptop in front of you, now long forgotten on the table. 

“You know,” he adjusted his position, face now nere inches away from yours. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, lips slightly hovering just beneath it, the fraction breaking goosebumps throughout your body. “Was’ so focused on fuckin’ you,” he whispered, “n’ making you feel good,” he then paused, his breath fanning over the sliver of your skin. “That I never realized how beautiful you are.” 

You tensed under his touch, almost yelping when his lips ghosted over your ear, placing a chaste kiss to it. You glimpsed in his direction, blinking far too many times for your liking. Rafe’s lips tugged into a sly smirk, satisfied by the reaction he got out of you. 

“What are you doing?” You muttered under your breath, stepping back to catch your breath, merely for Rafe to follow in your lead, invading your personal space, once again. “We’re in the library, idiot.” 

“What, I’m jus’ appreciating your beauty, baby.” He darted his tongue out to wet his lips, sneaking an arm around your waist, the gesture barely visible to the little people surrounding you. “Am I not allowed to do that now?”

“By telling me that you barely acknowledge me when you fuck me?” You boldy shot back, feeling pride bubble through your chest when Rafe rolled his eyes, entertained by your teasing. “What am I supposed to say to that?” 

“Well,” he poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, placing an open-mouthed kiss to your lips. “You’re supposed to be polite,” and another peck, “and say thank you.” 

“Not here,” you warned, suppressing the smile forming on your lips. 

‘I’ll be quick,” he hushed out, hand landing around the plump of your thigh, before he squeezed the flesh, trailing his fingers just beneath the hem of your skirt. Your eyes shifted down to his hand, swallowing around your dry throat, tempted by his risky offer. “C’mon, sweetheart, let me make you feel good.” 

His calloused fingers came to a halt around your inner thigh, digits tracing over your clothed cunt, causing in inaudible gasp to bubble out of your throat. You ceased the distance around his arm, forcing the latter into a fit of proximity, wanting nothing but to take you right then and there. 

“Fuck, you’re a mess; so wet for me, n’ I haven’t even done anythin’.” He whispered, smothering a moan out of you. “Wanna press you to the wall, n’ fuck you right then n’ there.” 

That sent you spiraling, as you jolted from your seat, leading Rafe within a close distance separating you, the boy instantly connecting your lips with his as soon as you approached a somewhat narrowed corner, one blocking the stifling moans he fucked out of you.

That alone was enough to make you realize that you liked him, more than yesterday, and less than tomorrow. 

[p0orbaby]

Hiya, I’m not sure if you write for Niamh but I had a blurb idea,, and if you obviously don’t write for her it’s totally a-okay :)

Reader falls asleep on Niamh during a team movie night and Niamh feels like she can’t move or wake R up because she’s never seen R this peaceful or comfortable

-

It’s supposed to be a team bonding night. Someone’s idea of cohesion apparently involves watching Shrek for the fourteenth time in the dimly lit corner of someone’s living room. You’re slouched into the cushions next to Niamh, the faint scent of popcorn lingering in the air.

The scene in question: Donkey introducing his waffle-making prowess. Everyone’s laughing, the kind of tired laughter that comes after a long training day. You’re vaguely aware of Niamh muttering something about how she could really go for waffles right now when you let your head drop to her shoulder.

It’s not deliberate; you don’t plan these things. But Niamh freezes like you’ve just told her you’re about to run away and join a circus. You feel her body tense underneath you, like she’s debating whether she’s allowed to breathe.

You don’t notice, of course, because within seconds, you’re out like a light.

Niamh, on the other hand, looks like she’s being held hostage. Her eyes dart around the room as she tries to work out her next move.

“Everything alright, Niamh?” Guro asks, nudging her from the other side.

“Yeah, yeah,” Niamh whispers, though it’s very much not alright. You’re now fully nestled into her side, breathing softly, your hand unconsciously gripping the hem of her hoodie.

She feels her heart clench. When was the last time she saw you like this? Peaceful. Completely relaxed. Never, that’s when.

“I can’t move,” she mouths to the Norwegian, who raises an eyebrow.

“You can’t move, or you won’t move?”

Niamh shoots her a look. “Shut up”

“You’re whipped,” Guro whispers, smirking before turning her attention back to the movie.

Niamh tries to focus on the film, but all she can think about is you. You’re impossibly warm against her, your breath tickling the curve of her neck. The room starts to feel claustrophobic, and she’s vaguely aware of her arm going numb under your weight.

She considers shifting you, just slightly, so she can feel her fingers again. But then you sigh contentedly, nuzzling closer, and she decides that maybe she doesn’t need full circulation after all.

“You’re gonna have to pee eventually,” Guro whispers again, clearly enjoying this.

“Shut up,” Niamh hisses.

When the movie ends and someone turns the lights on, Niamh winces like she’s been caught doing something illicit.

“Is she asleep?” someone asks.

“Yes,” Niamh says, a little too defensively.

“No way.” Millie leans over to get a closer look. “She never sleeps during movie night”

“Well, she’s asleep now,” Niamh snaps, glaring at Millie like she’s about to throw hands if anyone dares wake you.

“You’re a goner, mate,” Millie says, laughing as she heads to the kitchen.

Eventually, people start packing up and heading out, leaving Niamh trapped on the sofa with you still draped over her. She debates waking you up—seriously debates it—but then she looks down at your face. You look so utterly content, and she knows she’s not going to be the one to ruin it.

So instead, she settles in, letting her head rest against yours. “Guess we’re staying here tonight,” she murmurs softly, running her fingers lightly through your hair.

You don’t respond, of course, but she swears you lean into her touch. And that’s all the encouragement she needs to endure the dead arm and growing hunger pangs.

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. … instead we’re moving slow, i guess she’s used to it by now.

05, CHAPTER FIVE. YOU BETTER START THINKING.

ju speaks. i procrastinated this so bad lol but i have some time over the break to get some stuff out (more hoaw chapters) so yay! pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual innuendos.

present day, june 2025.

i’m not sure why i let it happen again.

scratch that—i know exactly why. i just don’t want to admit it to myself. it’s always like this with paige and me. a spark, a touch, a stupid comment or argument that turns into something much bigger, much harder to control. we’ve been here before, over and over, in different cities, in different beds, pretending like this time will be the last time. it should’ve been.

the last couple of weeks have been easier than i expected, softer in a way i didn’t know we were capable of. i’m starting to think it’s too good to be true. paige hasn’t been running from me, hasn’t been trying to prove something every second of our time together. maybe that’s why i’ve let my guard down, just a little.

she’s still herself, of course. cocky, loud, and incapable of stilling. but she’s been showing up. not just physically but in the ways i used to hope for back when we were together the first time. it’s in the way she looks at me when she thinks i’m not paying attention, like she did in high school when she told me she never wanted to let go of me. it’s in the way she texts me good morning before i can even think about reaching for my phone, like she’s trying to prove she can still be someone i want to wake up to.

and maybe, stupidly, i’m starting to believe her.

not completely, not yet. paige bueckers has always been good at saying the right things, making promises she’s not ready to keep. but these past weeks, it’s like she’s trying to remind me who she was before everything got so messy. the version of her i fell for in the first place.

but when she’s here, like this? it’s so hard to remember why i ever tried to stay away.

paige is stretched out on her back, arm slung around me, fingers tracing patterns absentmindedly on my shoulder. the sheets are tangled around her bare legs, and she shifts slightly, the motion sending a faint brush of her skin against mine. i glance up at her, and the smug smirk already curling at her lips tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“you staring at me, nai?” she asks. her voice is rough and a little husky from sleep as she stretches. my eyes flash to her exposed abdomen.

“don’t flatter yourself,” i mutter, though it is so obviously a front.

“tooooo late,” she drawls, shifting again so she’s propped up on one elbow, the other hand sliding up to lazily run along my arm. “you’re terrible at pretending you’re not obsessed, by the way.”

i roll my eyes, trying to hide the way my breath hitches at her touch. “says the girl who texted me five times in a row last night because i didn’t answer fast enough.” i lean back against the pillow, staring up at her, and i swear i could forever.

paige’s grin widens, shameless as she looks away. “i mean, what was i ‘posed to do? sit there and wait? nah, i had to apply pressure.” the smugness on her face tells me she’s having way too much fun with this, fun with me.

i snort, shaking my head as i get up, swinging a leg over her and straddling her waist casually. “pressure? you called me a ‘certified flake’ and threatened to pull up if i didn’t respond.”

paige lets out a low laugh, her hands instinctively finding my thighs as i settle over her. “yeah, and look where it got me.” she licks her lips, smirk softening as her eyes flicker over my face, lingering on my lips that are curled up into a smile. “don’t act like you didn’t like the attention.”

i arch a brow, tilting my head to the side. “oh, is that what we’re calling it now?”

her hands tighten on my thighs, smirk faltering for just a second before she regains composure. “mhm. attention. you’re welcome.”

i roll my eyes but don’t pull away, my hands bracing on her chest. how could i? “you’re such a problem.” i bring the comforter we shared last night up over my back, and its like a tent giving us privacy from the sun of my windows. i really need some black-out curtains or something.

“and you love it,” she fires back, her voice dropping, teasing, as her fingers trail upwards, stopping just far enough.

i do. God, i really do.

i smile, and i swear my face hurts from it as i lean down to kiss her. again and again, each one leaving paige chasing after my lips. i savor the moment. i’m not sure how long it’ll be like this, but i like it. a lot. i pull back, resting my head on her chest, breathing in her morning scent as she bites down on her lip in reminiscence.

“tell me i’m wrong,” she murmurs.

i laugh, more of a pity chuckle just because she’s so full of herself. i furrow my eyebrows just slightly, bringing my hand to a resting point right by my face. “i’m not telling you shit, bueckers.”

“yeah? but you didn’t say i was wrong.”

i don’t want to admit it, not to her, not even to myself, but paige knows me better than anyone. she always has. it’s infuriating and comforting all at once, the way she sees through me like i’m an open book. i’m not an open book. i never have been, but for paige…

she doesn’t press, though. she never does when it really matters. she just watches me with that maddening half-smile, her fingers brushing over my skin like she has all the time in the world, and i know she’s waiting for me to say it. to give in.

maybe that’s why i keep coming back. or maybe it’s because she’s the only person who’s ever made me feel this much all at once—frustration, want, affection, something i’m not ready to name. whatever it is, it’s why i don’t pull away, why i let her keep pulling me closer even when i know i should stop.

i shift, the sheets rustling beneath us, and my chest tightens. not about what she said, but what i’m forcing myself to think about. i hate how much i want this, how much i want her, even after everything. especially after everything. but its addicting, and i know she feels the same.

“maybe i’m just a sucker for this,” i mutter, low enough that i’m not sure she hears it.

but of course she does.

she nearly breaks her neck to look down at me. she doesn’t let the words settle. “nah, you a sucker for me.”

i roll my eyes again, avoiding her gaze, but i don’t argue. instead, i lift my head again as i prop myself up on her chest. “what makes you so sure?” it’s a stupid question, but i was fully ready for her to read me.

paige’s smile turns smugger. “because you’re here,” she says simply. “and you’re smiling like that.”

i scoff, trying to play it off, but the way she’s looking at me makes it impossible. i lean down, pressing my lips to hers again, even slower this time. how could i stay away from her when kisses me like this? i feel the way her mouth curves, realizing she’s smiling too.

my hand slides up to cup her face, and she pulls me just a little closer by the small of my back, grip tight like always, like she’s scared i’ll slip. it’s not rushed—in fact, we have a couple hours to be entangled like this before having to part—it’s intentional. like she’s got all the time in the world and wants me to feel it.

and i do.

“it’s—mhm—okay,” paige says, and i find her muffled words rather cute as i shift my hips up, pushing my lips further into hers. her hand slides up my bare back, fiddling with the clasp of my bra. “i am too.”

i pull away, sitting up a little straighter as i quirk a brow at her. “you’re what?” i ask. i decide to help her out, unclasping my bra, but holding the straps up over my chest until she’s finished speaking.

her eyes fall, tongue swiping over her swollen, pink lips. i’m teasing her, i know it, paige definitely knows it. but as she brings her hands up slowly, tearing my own away, i almost forget what i was doing to her in the first place, suddenly fully exposed. i hear her breath hitch. “a big, fat sucker for you.”

i bite back a smile despite her unserious words, because they always make me do that. i roll my eyes, cusping her mouth into my hand playfully as she laughs, shaking out of it.

paige doesn’t hesitate.

she attaches her lips to my collarbone, trails down to the curve of my chest. i look down, and if i didn’t know any better, i’d say paige bueckers is absolutely enamored with me. “so beautiful, baby,” she huskily says, her hands grounding my hips against her as she moves to my tits, attacking the marks she’d left last night so roughly it has my breathing going faster.

i tangle a hand in her hair, fingers tightening reflexively, and it’s like i can’t look away. her face, her lips—every detail feels seared into my memory. “for real,” she continues, and when she looks up at me unexpectedly, lips curving into a small grin, it’s like i’ve completely checked out.

i’m not me anymore, i’m whatever paige wants me to be.

“need you framed or somethin’.” it’s a joke. clearly a joke, nailea. but the way she’s making me feel makes it land differently.

“framed, huh?” i manage.

“yeah,” she replies proudly, like it’s the sweetest thing she’s ever said. “you know, like for the crib. big centerfold. maybe as my lock screen too.”

i can’t help it—i laugh, shaking my head, closing my eyes momentarily as i pretend her words aren’t setting me closer to giving myself to her completely. “you’re so stupid,” i mutter.

paige doesn’t flinch, her grin only widening as she dips her head again, her lips brushing over the swell of my chest. “nah, just honest,” she murmurs against my skin, and the way her voice vibrates there nearly makes me lose it.

i force myself to breathe, leaning back slightly as her hands wander. “maybe you can,” i blurt out without thinking, and she pauses, glancing up at me again.

“what you talkin’ about?” she asks.

i don’t answer right away, leaning over to grab the pink polaroid camera sitting on my nightstand. it’s old and clunky, a relic from freshman year that my dad had given me, and i’d kept it more out of nostalgia than utility. now, though, it feels like fate.

it always does with us.

when i sit back, holding the camera up, paige’s eyes light up, her grin widening into something more troublesome. “nai,” she drags out.

i lift my eyebrows, playing along, like i don’t already know where this is headed. “i’m listening.”

“you not serious,” she shakes her head, voice etched with some laughter. she doesn’t believe it, yet she still tilts her head, sizing me up like she’s already planning the perfect angle.

“thought you wanted me framed, p,” i counter, poking my bottom lip out as i lift the camera a little higher.

her grin deepens, tongue flicking over her teeth as she leans back just enough, hands sliding up and down my legs, creating some sort of friction. she hesitates. “you sure?”

i pretend to think for a moment before responding. “hmm, depends. you gonna cooperate?”

paige chuckles. “oh, i’ll cooperate.” she shifts again, her posture loosening as she leans back against the headboard, one arm draping casually over her head, the other trailing down to rest just between my legs. shes so sexy it’s almost overwhelming. her grin is the same as always, blue hues pierced into me.

“go on then,” she urges. “show me how you see me, baby.”

i adjust the camera into focus, fingers fumbling over the different buttons i’m sure i’ll have to show her have to work before snapping the first photo. the flash and the sun combined cast her in a perfect light, and though she’ll look less defined in the old pixels, the sight’s engraved in my head now.

the whir of the camera fills the room, and the polaroid slides out, landing softly against her chest. paige grabs it, holding it up with a satisfied smirk as the image slowly develops, inspecting it like it’s a prize. she glances at me, her expression softening just a little. “i’m bettin’ you could do better.”

“oh, you think so?” i shoot back, handing her the camera.

“mhm. there a timer on this thing?”

i step out of the shower and into my room, shivering a little as i pull the towel tighter around my chest. paige, completely the opposite temperature of me, must have messed with my thermostat.

i silently curse her for getting so comfortable.

she’s still here, tall figure leaning over the bed she made up. she’s wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts and her sports bra, her phone in one hand, the other lazily shuffling through the scattered polaroids we just took.

“what you doin’?” i ask, tilting my head at her as i walk over, water droplets trailing down my legs.

paige glances up, her blue eyes gleaming like i’ve interrupted something i should’ve known better than to question. “you thought i was lying about my lock screen?” she smugly says, holding up her phone.

i keep my eyes on her, not knowing what to expect as i move closer, the faintest tug of a grin threatening my lips. “what’d you do?” i mutter, snatching her phone to check it for myself.

sure enough, the lock screen now features a series of the pictures we’d taken. i blink, and i think my boiling, hot shower just cleansed every dirty thought i had before getting in, because i don’t remember us being this fucking horny. my cheeks flush despite myself. “paige, you cannot keep this on your phone.”

she strokes her chin, lowly laughing at my reaction. “why not? looks good, don’t it?”

i shake my head as i fight back every inch of amusement that wants to take over me. “it’s unhinged,” i retort, though the corner of my mouth betrays me. a part of me wants her to keep it.

she looks at me, completely unfazed. “everything we just did is unhinged.” well…

before i can think of a snappy comeback, there’s a sudden knock at the front door, loud and authoritative. my heart leaps, and i freeze. paige stiffens too, her smile faltering just slightly.

“shit,” i mutter, tossing her phone back on the bed. “put a shirt on.”

paige doesn’t move immediately, still grinning like she thinks this is funny.

“now, p!” i urge, hitting her arm and scrambling toward my closet for a robe.

“aight, aight,” she finally says, scurrying over and grabbing a shirt off the back of a chair. she takes her time pulling it on, moving like this isn’t urgent, like we’re not one knock away from being exposed.

but then there’s another knock, louder this time. not from the front door—this one is right outside the bedroom.

the fuck?

i freeze, my hand still on the closet door, dread pooling in my stomach.

paige’s eyes widen as realization dawns on her. “yo, who has a key to your apartment?” she mouths, grabbing the polaroids and shoving them under the pillow in a panic.

i shake my head as if to tell her i wouldn’t know before squaring my shoulders, trying to channel a calm i don’t feel. If i act casual, maybe—just maybe—i can smooth this over. except i don’t know who it is. we don’t know who it is. i tie the robe around myself and open the door slowly, preparing for the worst.

and there she is. cameron brink.

her arms are crossed as she scans the room, and she doesn’t have a reaction to paige’s presence in the slightest bit. i speak first. “how’d you—“ i start, but she cuts me off, holding up a pink key decorated with yellow daisies attached to her keychain.

well, shit.

“i had a feeling i’d need this,” she says coolly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “and your locations.” her eyes flick over my robe, then to paige standing awkwardly by the bed, and then back to me.

“bye, paige,” she says pointedly, not even giving her the courtesy of a glance as she busies herself by stuffing her keys into her purse.

paige hesitates, looking between me and cam, clearly debating whether to say something. i’ve got my own arms crossed, chewing down on my lip like a kid in trouble. she takes the hint, and finally, she steps toward me, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before grabbing her phone and heading toward the door. “i’ll… catch you later.”

if it weren’t for the predicament we were in, i’d call her adorable.

the door closes behind her, leaving me alone with cam, and i don’t even have to look at her to know what’s coming.

“really?”

i roll my eyes, crossing my arms tighter against my chest. i shouldn’t be upset with her though. i’m deflecting. “you stalking me now?”

cam smirks, but there’s no humor in it. “i came to apologize for what happened at the bar,” she says. “in person, because i haven’t seen you. but now i know why—you’ve been busy.” her voice has something etched in it, almost like she’s disappointed in me, but at the same time, knew.

i look away, fingers curling around the fabric of my robe. “it’s not like that,” i mutter, but even i don’t believe it. not really. it is like that. and maybe i’m just too tired of pretending i can stay away.

“isn’t it? i thought you were done with her,” she says, her brows raising like she’s daring me to lie.

i let out a breath, awkwardly keeping my hands to my sides as i sit on the edge of the bed. “me too.”

“then why is she leaving your apartment like a one-night stand?”

“because—” i start, but the words stick in my throat. what was i supposed to say? that seeing paige nearly every day had unraveled every ounce of willpower i had? that being around her felt like falling into an old habit, comfortable and impossible to resist?

“you try having your ex-girlfriend get drafted to the team you work for,” i say finally.

still, she rambles. “and maya?” cam presses. she’s so worried about it you’d think it was her problem. “they’re seeing each other, you know that, right?”

i close my eyes for a moment, guilt clawing at my chest. that wasn’t fair. “we haven’t…” i trail off, shaking my head. “we haven’t been thinking that far.”

cam exhales, hand running down her face. “that’s the problem, nai. you’re not thinking.”

her words settle into the room, a bit harsh for me to hear, but not untrue. and maybe that’s what stings the most—that i’ve been avoiding this conversation with myself for weeks. the truth is, i haven’t thought about anything beyond the way paige makes me feel when she’s close, the way her voice drops when she says my name, the way her hands feel like they’re meant to pull me back in no matter how far i run. i haven’t thought about maya, about what it would mean for her to find out, about how i’d explain myself if it came to that. i haven’t thought about the job i fought so hard to get, and how quickly it could all fall apart if this got out.

i look at cam. she looks like she’s seen this all before. she hasn’t. she hasn’t even seen half of it and wants better for me. she loves us both, i know that. but apart better than together.

i bite my lip, frustration pooling in my gut as i try to put my thoughts together. somehow, the only thing i can think about is how this isn’t just paige and i’s secret anymore, and i should fight to keep it under wraps until we figure it out. “please don’t tell maya,” i plead.

cam looks at me, her expression unreadable for a long moment before she sits down beside me, close but not touching. “you know i won’t.” i feel a sense of relief. “but promise me you’ll start thinking. about how this affects your job. about you.” she chuckles dryly, emphasizing that i don’t really have a choice.

i suppose she’s right. she is right.

[bekolxeram]

Everyone decides to be sad about Tommy spending the holidays alone today. I just want to say, I hate you all. Especially @mmso-notlikethat with this post. As payback for making me cry my way into insomnia, I wrote this on my phone instead of sleeping.

By the time he knocks on the door, Tommy still has no idea what to expect. “Wear something nice, we’re celebrating tonight,” that’s the only instruction he’s received from Evan, his boyfriend once again. Tommy can’t help but smile at the mere thought of finally allowing himself to say that name.

He has a burgundy dress shirt on with a pair of light grey slim fit pants. Simple, but elegant, hopefully properly dressed for this undisclosed commemoration. March is not known for its holidays, so what’s the occasion that calls for such festivity? They did meet last March at the cruise ship rescue, maybe that was it? Or perhaps Evan is having some sort of career advancement? They’ve been back together for just a few weeks, there’s simply not enough time for Tommy to catch up on Evan’s ever so eventful life. To that, Tommy silently mourn the time they’ve lost, due to his own cowardice.

“Hey — Hey,” Evan takes a step outside of the door to greet Tommy with a quick peck on the lips. Tommy lets the younger man drag him into the loft without much reaction, because he’s still confused by the sight in front of him: Evan in his usual navy blue button up, dark jeans and… a Christmas hat?

Inside the loft is a jumble of sparkly festive decorations. To his left, he sees “Happy Birthday Tommy”; to his right, “Merry Christmas”; and deeper into the living space, “Happy New Year”.

“Jee and Mara helped setting these up,” Evan says while taking half of a roast turkey out of the oven. “This one is from Bobby. He said half a bird is enough for the two of us, if we don’t want to suffer through leftover for the next 7 days.” He then sets the tray next to some roasted vegetables and a casserole. “The casserole is from Chimney, but I’m pretty sure it’s Maddie’s recipe. Hen got you a cake. I think she said something about being sure you would like it. We can have it for dessert. Oh, and the champagne is from…”

“Eddie, because he can’t cook.” Tommy cuts in.

“Exactly!”

“Evan, what’s going on here?”

Evan steps closer, taking both of Tommy’s hands into his own, “You told me the other day that you spent your 40th birthday alone… I only realized later that you were probably on your own for the entire holiday season, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year, Valentine’s Day. I know it doesn’t come close to the real thing, but I was thinking maybe we could make up for a few key moments that we missed.” He dims the lights in the loft with a remote control and fiddles with something on the dining table. Suddenly, the whole room is lit up with colorful patterns and twinkling stars. “I couldn’t get any firework around here, so I borrowed this star projector from Christopher.”

“Oh… Evan,” Tommy sighs, eyes already hazy with tears.

“I’m not asking you to move in with me or to make major commitments. I’m not asking for anything in return at all. This is… a promise, from me to you. No matter what happens, what becomes of us in the future, I’ll be there when you need me, we all will.”

Evan says earnestly, with utmost conviction in his tone. The clarity in his eyes reminds Tommy of that day at the café terrace, almost a year ago. “I just want you to know, Tommy, you’re no longer alone.”

A few drops of tears escape Tommy’s eyes, but before he can respond, Evan pulls out a mistletoe from his pocket and dangles it over their heads.

“You have to kiss me now.” Evan says with a cheeky grin. Tommy waits no time to capture those smiling lips with his own, kissing him with all the love and gratitude in his heart.

“I love you, Evan. I’m so lucky to have you.” Tommy pulls him into a warm embrace.

“I love you too.” Now it’s Evan’s turn to tear up.

Tommy pulls back a little and asks, “hey, would you mind if we celebrate Valentine’s Day first?”

“Oh, you mean you’re interested in the Valentine’s Night activity?”

“Depends on what you have in mind.”

“Come upstairs. I’ll show you.”

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 02

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 3.2k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

You lift your eyes to him. Your conversation had already been weird, but you hadn’t expected him to drop a bomb like that. What are you supposed to reply to that? Instead, you stare at him, not knowing what to say or what to do. He seems like he’s waiting for an answer, but you don’t have any for him.

“I’m sorry,” is all that came out of your mouth.

“For what?” he asks as you take a deep breath, looking at the floor and nervously chewing your bottom lip.

“For wasting four years of your life.” You raise your shoulders before waiting for a reaction from him. But instead, he starts to chuckle, shaking his head.

“Is that what you think of us? That our…” He pinches his lips, searching for an alternative to ’love' “our relationship was a waste?”

“I don’t know. We were kids,” you reply, as his eyes seem to burn the side of your face before you see him take a few steps back.

Do you think your relationship was a waste? No. He was your first love. You experienced all your first times with him. First date, first time, first heartbreak. Jungkook sighs, shaking his head.

“I loved you,” is all that could slip from his lips as your eyes finally met his.

 “I loved you too,” you whisper, feeling your throat clenching. And your words seem to comfort him a little. He needed to hear it. Even if you had told him multiple times back then.

“I…I’m going to be around more often.” He informs you, with one hand in his pocket and the other pulling the beer to his lips. “I don’t want us to be like all those exes who hate each other. Can we be friends?”

You never thought you would hear him say that one day. But you’re relieved. Between you, Jungkook was always the most mature.

“Do you think we can be friends?” You ask, arching a brow as he chuckles, raising his shoulders.

“We both moved on.” The tattooed man tilts his head.

“You literally just asked me to give you the reason for our breakup from 7 years ago." You roll your eyes, but he simply smiles.

“I’m curious.” He takes a step closer. “I just want to understand where I did it wrong for you to leave me without an explanation. Was it because of my snoring?” He jokes to lighten the mood, and you give him an amused look.

“I used to fall asleep to your snoring,” you retort with a slight smile.

“You’re the first girl— woman who’s not bothered about it.” he chuckles, shrugs, and sits on the grass. You imitate him, leaning against the wall next to him.

People can be annoyed by the snoring, but you have always liked his. The first week after your breakup, you didn’t sleep well with the silence surrounding you. Seven years later, you still leave the TV on at night.

“So… friends?” He asks, tilting his head in your direction. You hesitate for a few seconds before taking the hand he is offering and giving it a squeeze.

“Friends.”

 “How’s your work?” It must be stressful to have so many responsibilities as a shop owner.” Jungkook tries to start a conversation, and you know you need to keep it going since he took the first step.

“I’m…grateful. I worked hard to do what I love.” You reply, pushing your dress down as you try to find a comfortable position without showing your private parts to the few guests around. Jungkook noticed, and he took off his jacket to cover your legs, even though you tried to refuse. That’s just how he was—genuinely kind without ulterior motives, “Thanks,” you mumble. “What about you?”

“I fixed some computers for grannies,” he nods, both of you laughing softly. “I applied for a job at the government, but self-employment is quite tempting. I'm not suited for a 9-5 job.”

"You were never built for that," you shake your head. Taking a sip of your champagne, you grimace, and leave the bottle between the two of you

“Tell me about it.” He laughs, finishing his beer. “I need to settle down properly before thinking of working for myself.”

“Where are you staying at the moment?”

 “Jimin’s.” He raises his shoulders. “I do jobs here and there, as I said. But my degrees are not just for decoration. I’d better find a good use for it.”

“I can’t believe you really found studies to be a hacker,” you laugh as he looks at you, amused.

“I’m a pentester,” he corrects you, earning eye rolls from you.  

“You’re hacking people to see if their security works. That’s the same.”

“Except, I do it legally.” He teases, lifting his finger.

“Right. That changes everything.” You add sarcastically, not feeling his admiring eyes on you. “At least you do your dream job.”

“I do.”

“We should go back to the party,” you suggest sighing and getting up as Jungkook hums, mirroring you. You hand him back his jacket, saying, “Thanks for that,” and he nods.

“No need to thank me,” he replies, pulling it back on his shoulders as you two walk to the door. “Hey. Do you offer a discount for new friends?”

You raise an eyebrow at his words, your eyes falling on his inked forearm.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Just some filling and a few colorings,” he explains, showing you the blank space between his tattoos. “My old tattoo artist sucked. I’m looking for a new one.”

Some part of you knew he was just making excuses, as his tattoos were perfectly fine. They need a few fillings, as he said, but otherwise, they look great.

“I double the price for the exes, actually.” You retort, and he laughs.

“Damn, Nabi, who hurts you?” He jokes, and you roll your eyes before freezing at the nickname. A few of your friends call you Nabi. The ones who are close. Hearing it from him makes your stomach almost drop. He doesn’t seem to see it. And it was for the better.

“Ask Jimin for the shop’s address. I’ll see what I can do for you.” You mumble, and he nods, pulling down his sleeves. “I need to go back to the bride. You know how dramatic Hyesun can be. She’ll think I abandoned her.”

“Right. Thanks, Y/N. I really... enjoyed our conversation.” He says sincerely, earning a slight smile from you.

“Me too. See you around... friend.” You wave at him before walking back to your friend group.

You sit next to Hyesun at Namjoon’s coffee shop. They were back from their honeymoon a few days ago, Hwan and you wanted to know everything about it. They went to Jeju and spent a whole week lovey-dovey.

“So, the next step is kids?” Hwan asks, crossing her legs as Hyesun almost choked on her iced coffee.

 “Damn, Hwan, do you really think that marriage and kids are linked or what?” Hyesun groans. She gives a look to her husband, who’s behind his counter, offering his best smile to a client before catching her eyes and blowing her a kiss. “No, maybe after my thirties, but we want to enjoy each other as much as we can.”

“In other terms, they want to fuck on the kitchen’s counter like animals for as long as possible,” You muse, as she smirks and slaps your shoulder.

“Don’t laugh too much, miss, you still have some explanation to do.” Hyesun scolds you as you frown a little.

“About what?”

“About what?” Hyesun repeats. “Maybe how you disappeared with your ex in the middle of my wedding reception and came back with him, giggling and heart eyed.

You roll your eyes and take a sip of your black coffee.

“That’s pretty exaggerated.” You sigh as Hwan looks at the both of you, lost. Hwan joined your friends' group three years ago. She doesn’t know anything about your story with Jungkook. And Hyesun smirks, pulling her chair closer to your mutual friend.

“I don’t understand,” Hwan chuckles.

“Yeah, you weren’t there, but that lady here was in a long-term relationship a few years ago." Hyesun muses as you lean back in your chair, shaking your head. “She was supposed to be the one getting married before any of us.”

“Y/N?” Hwan frowns, not believing Hyesun.

“Yeah, Y/N.” Hyesun nods, “Hard to believe, right?”

“Yeah. I have never seen her with anyone since I have known her.” Your red-haired friend laughs as you scrunch your nose, amused.

“Can you focus on your marriage instead of talking about old stories?” You arch a brow, giving her a look.

“No, no, I want to know.” Hwan shushed you, shaking her hand in front of my face. “What happened? Why are they not together anymore?”

 “Y/N is a self-sabotaging type of person.” Hyesun grimaces, “Jungkook was ready to offer her the moon if she asked for it.”

“Gosh…” You sigh, but your two friends interrupt you as you continue to sip your coffee.

“They have been dating since high school. How old were you when he asked you to be his girlfriend?” Hyesun turns to you as you wet your lips.

“Seventeen.”

“Right. They were like the couple goal back then.” Your best friend continues, while Hwan is listening attentively. “Jungkook always shouted out to the world that he was going to spend his life with her.”

“We were kids.”

“Shut up,” Hyesun says, stopping you as you chuckled. “Everyone knew from the moment you two started spending time together that you were meant to be.”

“Then why did you break up with him?” Hwan frowns. “You fell out of love?”

You take a deep breath and shrug. “No.” Was all you could reply, chewing the inside of your cheek, “I loved him when I ended things,” you add as both of your friends wait for your next words. “Oh my god... I broke up with him because he was about to leave for Japan, and I couldn’t follow him. Our relationship ended there. That’s it.”

 “Japan is just two hours away from here. Jungkook would have made it work, and you know that.” Hyesun gives you a deadpan stare.

“He was going to be there for 5-6 years.” You retort, frowning. “What was I supposed to do? Wait for him here? What if our relationship couldn’t make it through the long distance? What if he started seeing someone there and I was unaware of it?”

“You and I both know that the Jungkook from that time would rather cut his dick off than cheat on you.” Hyesun defends Jungkook as you roll your eyes. “He’ll most likely cheat on his new girlfriend with you, rather than cheating on you with others.”

“You’re so stupid sometimes, Y/N.” Hwan shakes her head as you cover your face in embarrassment. “Now we’ll never know because you’re a scary little thing who’s too afraid to take a risk for her own comfort.”

“Are you really teaming up against me?” You chuckle, crossing your arms under your chest. You weren’t surprised by how harsh they can be. It’s how your friendship with these girls works. At least you know they’re genuine and not sugarcoating everything.

“I’m sorry, but have you seen that guy? I wouldn’t give up on him, even if he was a huge dickhead.” Hwan adds, and Hyesun nods behind her shoulder. “Shit.. I wanted to ask for his number, but since you have a too huge connection with him, I’ll just… watch him… from afar.”

“You still can, he’s single,” You raise an eyebrow, her face contorting into a grimace.

“Y/N, sweetie,” Hwan shakes her head, “He’s not a two-week boyfriend of yours. He was the love of your life. So, thank you, but no thank you.” She adds before Hyesun offers her a high-five.

“Anyway, you won’t dodge the question. What happened between you two at the wedding?” Hyesun tilts her head to you, pulling the straw between her lips in a sassy way.

“What do you think happened?” You chuckle, rolling your eyes.

“Something passionate, maybe a little make out session with wandering hands.” Hyesun raises her shoulders. You burst out laughing and shake your head.

“We simply talked.” You shatter their dreams as the two girls whine. “He asked me to be friends. I said yes.”

They both exchange a look before sipping their drinks silently as you frown. You hate it when they do that.

“What?” You groan, straightening up in your chair, and exclaim, “What?!”

 Hyesun starts by saying “Y/N…” as Hwan giggles.

“Sweetheart, I’ll hold your hand when I say it,” Hwan adds, taking your hand dramatically, covering it with her other hand as she rubs it softly. “No ex stays ‘friends’. Either neither of you has moved on, or one of you is lying about their feelings.”

“Or none of them have loved each other.” Hyesun nods in agreement with Hwan, saying, “But we both know that… well, you both were crazy about each other.”

“So, do you still have feelings for him?”

“What?” You frown, taking your hand off Hwan’s when she asks you that question. “You’re both ridiculous. I don’t have feelings for him anymore. We were friends before we got into a relationship, you know that?”

“That’s not the same,” Hwan says, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, you didn’t taste his dick the first time you two were friends.” Hyesun muses as you groan, pressing your forehead on the table dramatically.

“You know what? Fuck you. Both of you.” You sigh, shaking your head as they both laugh. “I’m sure he only asked me to be his friend to be polite anyway; I haven’t had news from him since the wedding.”

 “Because you’re waiting for his news?” Hwan hums playfully.

“What- No! He wanted me to see what I could do for his tattoos—” you continue but they both give you an amused look. “Alright, shut up. I’m done talking about that.”

You were distracted by your thoughts while cleaning the room after your last client. After a six-hour-long work session, your back aches and your fingers are numb from the tattoo machine's constant buzz. But at least your client left happy with her new thigh tattoo. Spraying some disinfectant on the table, you start to wipe it meticulously.

“Sorry, sir, we’re closing,” you hear Baekhyun’s voice after the front door opened. “You can come back tomorrow; we’re opening at 9.”

“That’s okay, I’m not here to get tattooed,” The other masculine voice says as you straight up, leaving everything on the table and walking to the counter for a better view. "Is Y/N here?”

“It’s okay, Baekhyun, I’ll take care of it,” You add walking past your employee as he nods, “Finish the cleaning in the back.”

Baekhyun frowns, his eyes never leaving your face while you’re taking off your gloves and join Jungkook. He wears a casual, all-black attire, as always, with his whole sleeve tattoo on display and a beanie on his head, from which a few strands of hair fell to his neck.

“Hi,” he offers you a half smile.

“It’s late,” you reply, tilting your head as he chuckles and scratches the back of his head, his arm muscles flexing. Your eyes can’t help but follow the movement.

“The grannies computers,” he jokes, earning a smile from you while Baekhyun frown, noticing the sudden softness in your demeanor.

 Jungkook’s eyes switch from Baekhyun to you a few times as you turn to the other tattoo artist who didn’t move a bit.

“Baek?” You shake your head, as if waiting for him to give you the privacy you asked.

“Oh, yeah, right.” He mumbles, giving Jungkook a last look before going into the room behind the counter, saying, “I’ll be here, if you need me.”

You roll your eyes and step closer to Jungkook, leaning your hip against the counter. “Are the grannies happy?” You ask as he offers you a shy smile and nods.

“A lot.” He confirms, before looking around the tattoo shop. “You decorated it nicely.”

“Thanks. Did you come alone?”

“Hm.”

An awkward silence fills the room before you chuckle, shaking your head.

“So, what can I do for you, Mr. Jeon?” You try to ease the tension by making a gesture with your hand, indicating his body.

“Huh? Oh right. I, uh, the fillings,” He explains clumsily, pulling up his sleeve to show you his entire arm, and you’re surprised at how his tattoos just…make him look hotter.

You step closer again and ask him with a look if you can touch. He slightly nods. Your fingers wrap around his forearm as you twist it to see all the ink on it, spotting every little blank space between his bigger tattoos.

“Your previous tattoo artist was great,” You mumble, too focused to notice his gaze tracing every feature of your face. “That’s not the same… work?” You frown at the way that some designs are rawer.

“The first one did some shitty stuff on my arm,” He whispers, his breath closer to your skin than you thought. You freeze, turning your face and immediately pulling back slightly when your noses almost brush. “The second made up pretty well. But you know what they say? The third time is a charm.”

Your eyes meet his, your fingers still wrapped around his arm as you take a deep breath, trying not to be too obvious about how nervous he’s making you.

“Well, not to be arrogant, but that’s the case,” You reply, and his lips curve into a side smile. “What do you have in mind for the filling?”

“You’re the pro here, I’ll let you decide,” Jungkook declares, your eyes falling back on his arm as you trail your fingers over the empty spaces, earning a shiver from him.

 “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” You lick your lips, “I’ll need to take pictures of your arm to draw what I’ll do…” you add as your eyes fall on the moth on the inside of his arm, darker than the rest of his tattoos, right where the biceps muscle starts.

“Are you free on Saturday?” He asks with a softer voice, tilting his head to catch your eyes.

“I can take the pictures now,” You chuckle nervously.

“For dinner, I mean.” He clarifies as you look at him.

“A date?” You blink, unsure.

“A friendly date,” He corrects you, wetting his lips, as you take a few steps back, bumping your back against the counter, feeling stupid, but he didn’t move. “So?”

Of course, a friendly date. A simple dinner between two adults… two friends.

“Saturday,” You repeat, then nod.

“Saturday,” He lets out a soft chuckle, clearly pleased to see you so flustered. “You can say no tho.”

“No- I mean, yes, a dinner, Saturday.” You shake your head, frowning and catching your phone to take pictures of his arm as he laughs, “When you’re done making fun of me, let me know so I can work properly.” You groan, your camera app open while he smirks, showing off his tattoos for you to snap.

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3

[aerequets]

Ur art is such an inspiration and motivation for me, as a fellow artist. I’ve been following ur stuff for a bit now and I was wondering how you decided to draw loid, yor, and anya the way you do. I say this bc I really want to start making my own fan arts, but i struggle to take this anime style and have these character read as [insert character] without it being in a “anime style.”

And I guess this applies to any character you want take from a media, and translate it into your style. Bc i don’t necessarily think ur art style is considered “anime” i kinda just see it as an abstraction ig. But even if it is, it isn’t in the style of anime show is yk? Yet the characters read as who they’re supposed to be.

And I think a while back you u mentioned that you were struggling on decided how to draw loid. ig i wanna know How did you come to the decision that “yes, this looks correct and I wanna draw him like this.”

Is it finding defining feature and proportions? Just messing around until you figure something out? And I assume you make a character sheet to keep it consistent?

Like i literally go to art school but cant draw anything without a reference photo and it killing me 😔💀💀

Sorry for the yapp i’m just down bad rn and really love ur work. Please help be get out of the reference photo trap😭

Also sorry if this reads weird and has errors i’m sleep deprived and can’t bring myself to go back and reread

WHAIUGOUGH???? UR TOO KIND??? THANK U

i will try my best to answer below, but i dont think it is anything profound or super secret lmao

so i think that artists get really caught up with finding/establishing a style when they are first starting out. i say this because i was no different. to me it was like 'oh if i have a style then i am a Real artist instead of just a copier'

but like, i think that order is backwards. like the more that you draw things you enjoy, the more those drawings will become your own and in your 'style' if that makes sense. heavy emphasis on the quantity here. you just gotta go really at it. and the best way to do this is through sheer quantity tbh.

however at the same time, i dont really agree with the whole 'draw x things per day every day' thing cuz sometimes thats just hard man. i mean you mentioned you were in art school so you're probably drawing every day anyways, but for a hobbyist or fanartist (me lol) its mostly based on whether u feel like drawing or not. Which is why its rlly cool when you have a show/book/movie/anything you're really into which makes you want to draw more! it becomes something fun rather than a chore.

so basically, dont view a style as something you have to develop right away, or turn drawing into a chore, because that will be very counteractive trust me.

another important thing i wanted to mention, you said "reference photo trap" but ITS NOT A TRAP! USE REFERENCES!!! REFERENCES ARE IMPORTANT AND GOOD (i am assuming you already know this, but using references is not the same as tracing. just to make it clear)

this is another thing common with newer artists (and of course how i used to be), where you feel like you have to draw 'from your mind' for it to be an indicator of any skill. NOT TRUE!! you need to use references to get better!

lastly, to answer your question (as best i can lol) there was never any point when i decided 'yes this is it' when drawing. you just draw and draw and keep changing and growing. it is a little of everything you said (defining features, proportions, messing around) but it is also just drawing a lot and having fun! :D oh and i definitely do not have a character sheet. i am not anywhere near that organized LMAO

[the-bi-space-ace]

I’m Cold

I told you I was back on my Crosshair and Echo bullshit and you couldn’t stop me and I’m back again. This time with another headcanon and a short fic for EchoVember for everyone to enjoy 🩶

I think the phrase “I’m cold.” Became a sign for these two to let the other comfort them. To stop arguments about feeling coddled or not wanting to appear weak. “I’m cold” means move over. Let me take some of the burden. Don’t argue with me. It’s a way to make the other feel better about accepting comfort so they feel more willing to accept it, as if they're helping the other person instead.

How about a cute little fic about how that starts?

Have you ever wanted a fic like "Oh, Shut Up" but the roles reversed? Well, here ya go! Some Echo and Crosshair hurt/comfort for your enjoyment <3

Happy Echovember!

Echo woke to what sounded like the cross of a groan and a whine, high pitched but pained. Instinct threw him to his feet, touching down onto the metal floor of the Marauder, confronted only with the dim light of the bunk room and the subtle snores from his squad. All sleeping except for Wrecker up in the cockpit on watch. It was still deep in the night cycle, their next mission still a rotation out from their current position. There that noise was again. This time Echo could pinpoint where it was coming from. He turned towards it, spotting the restless lump on the bunk across from him. 

Crosshair was sleeping but it wasn’t restful, body tossing and turning underneath the covers. Every so often he let out a noise not unlike the first one. Short gasps and grumbles that could have been words but Echo couldn’t discern what he was trying to say. It wasn’t often that Crosshair got nightmares. There were always times bad dreams plagued them but Crosshair’s were few and far between. It was always possible that he just hid it better than the rest of them, too proud to show himself needing help in front of them. On the rare occasion he couldn’t hide it, usually Wrecker was at his side the second he made a noise, not even bothering to wake him up before climbing into the bunk. Crosshair always grumbled, bit back something snappy about how he’d been woken up, but he let Wrecker lay with him. Maybe that said more about Crosshair’s state in those moments than anything else. 

Another toss, face screwed up in pain, and Echo couldn’t wait any longer. He was careful not to let his feet make noise when he started to tip toe over to the other bunk. Noise behind him drew his eyes upward, meeting Hunter’s gaze as he was midway through tossing his own blanket off. Hunter tipped his head at Echo, eyes darting between him and their suffering squadmate. Was he the best person for this? That he didn’t quite know but he was already out of bed. No need to have someone else take over what he’d already determined he would do. 

Echo paused but flashed a quick hand signal to his sergeant. 

I’ll take point. 

Surprise flashed across Hunter’s expression for only a second then he flashed a quick OK before settling back down in his bunk. Echo could feel the eyes still on him but he’d committed to this course of action and he’d never been one to give up so soon. 

Approaching a squad mate had never felt so weighty before. The dominoes had been loud, excitable, but he’d never felt quite so out of his depth. Perhaps approaching from eye level was safer. Echo crouched by the side of the bunk so he could watch Crosshair’s face, screwed up as it was. Tear tracks ran down his face, unable to stop the emotion while still asleep, leaving a glistening target in the dark. Echo took a deep breath. 

“Crosshair.” Echo whispered. Nothing. Still tossing and turning uninhibited. With gentleness he’d not exhibited in a while he laid a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder, rocking him gently. “Hey, Cross.” The touch woke him almost instantly, breath sucked in through his nose and bleary eyes cracking open. As quick and observant as ever, Crosshair closed his eyes again and rubbed the back of his arm over his face, trying to disguise the telltale sign of tears. 

Echo’s heart squeezed a bit. He didn’t have to do that. Hide. Not from any of them. 

“What do you want, reg?” He bit out. Scratchiness from sleep mixed with a thickness that Echo hadn’t heard from Crosshair before. 

“You were making noise.” Echo said. His hand was pushed away as Crosshair rolled over onto his back, eyes studying the ceiling above him. 

Crosshair scoffed. “Sorry to disturb your sleep, didn’t realize regs needed such perfect conditions to pass out.” He sniffed, rubbing his arm over his eyes once more to confirm he’d gotten all of the tears off of his cheeks. Echo felt like he was trying to approach a scared tooka, one that was one step away from hissing and batting him away. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, ignoring the dig.

“Piss off.” Crosshair bit out, head turning to face the opposite wall. Wasn’t an answer to the question. 

“I get nightmares, too, ya know.” Echo sighed, resting his arm and scomp against each other on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m aware.” He grumbled, letting them fall into silence. The quiet only lasted until Crosshair huffed, turning back onto his side to stare menacingly at Echo. The red rimmed eyes undercut the curated mask. “Just go back to bed.” A dismissal. He wasn’t going to be thwarted that easily. Breaking down Crosshair’s walls took consistency. He was learning the longer he spent with Clone Force 99 that his bond with Crosshair would take work but once it was earned it would be difficult to break. 

Echo was planning on earning it.

“Already awake. No sense going all the way over there again.” Echo shrugged, gesturing behind him with his scomp. All it did was make Crosshair glare a bit harder as if it would scare Echo away from him. Most of the bite to him was to scare people off, not let them too close otherwise they might start to matter. That’s what freaked Crosshair out, Echo was sure of it, that someone new might matter to him and it would hurt if one day they were gone. Better to ruin it before it got to that point, frighten off Echo before he made up his mind and decided to stay for good. 

Not a chance he was letting that happen. 

Echo had twice Crosshair’s weight in stubbornness. Once his mind was made up he was sticking to it, even if he had to get knocked down a few times before he could stand on his own two feet. He met the glare with a raised eyebrow, tipping his head in challenge. 

A petulant eye roll accompanied a tired deflation. “I’m fine, reg. Use your pity on someone else.” 

“It’s not pity. You woke me, remember? This is your punishment for that.” The joke halfway landed, he saw it in Crosshair’s eyes, but it wasn’t quite enough to soften his mood, still grumbling and keeping his feelings too close to his chest. Echo reached his scomp out as an offering, one that Crosshair eyed but didn’t take. Not taking any of the bait. Must’ve been a pretty shitty dream. Echo deflated. His mind raced through options. Whatever he chose to do might get him slapped for his effort with the way his squadmate was reacting. He was at a loss until he shrugged, letting his head lay on his folded arm. 

“I’m cold.” Echo wasn’t sure how he had meant that to sound, how he’d like it to be taken, but waiting was the only way you got an answer out of their sniper. Crosshair watched his face for what felt like a full minute, thoughts racing behind steady eyes, brow pinching with that well earned skepticism. Temperature was almost always consistent on ships, especially theirs. Tech didn’t like it fluctuating too much. Bad for his ship as he’d say. The ‘cold’ was a poor excuse and they both knew it. Giving up was on the horizon, he’d fumbled this interaction enough it was about time to pack it in, but Crosshair surprised him as he often did. 

Crosshair shuffled backwards, making room on the tiny regulation bunk, then lifted the blanket as if offering an invitation. Hesitation would only make Crosshair skittish so Echo took the opportunity in stride and slid into the free space. The mattress was warm, heated by the body recently laying in that spot, and the blanket thrown over his shoulders added to the exchange of body heat. Echo turned onto his back and lifted his arm to let Crosshair scoot forward, tucking into the space to rest his head comfortably on his chest. Echo held him tightly, hand rubbing absentmindedly over the expanse of his back. A weary sigh left the other man’s body, finally melting into Echo’s side like it had brought at least some relief. 

Echo would like to believe that he could still give this kind of comfort. That he wasn’t so changed that his squad wouldn’t want to share such close space with him. He remembered holding Fives like this, carding fingers through his hair. Crosshair’s wasn’t quite as long but it was enough to run the tips of his fingers through, blunt nails scratching lightly over his scalp. 

“Echo?” The muffled voice brought Echo’s eyes downward. Crosshair wasn’t looking at him but he did squeeze tighter into the space, pressing his forehead to Echo’s neck, his arm stretching across Echo’s waist to keep the hold firm. No other words came but he got the message. Whether it was the way he squeezed back or the way his chest stuttered every so often Echo wouldn’t ever divulge. It was enough of an admission. Enough to know he was on the right track. Echo was as content to be the source of warmth for the night as Crosshair was to accept it now. 

Protectiveness swept through him, almost overwhelmingly so. Something in him wanted to chase away all of those sour thoughts. The ones that made pits grow in your stomach and your throat tighten. Make sure none of Clone Force 99 had to hurt, even if that hurt came in the form of nightmares or cold nights. Without thinking too hard about it Echo pressed a quick kiss to the top of Crosshair’s head. “I know, Cross, I know.” 

[ideas-4-stories]

Cross Guild Romance prompt: Luffy and the Strawhats are sailing when this sudden and severe storm catches them. In the chaos Chopper goes flying overboard with some debris before anyone can grab him. Luffy and the crew get blown the other way and can only despair and hang on. Come morning Chopper wakes up not in the middle of the ocean but in Cross Guild’s hospital tent with Buggy, Mihawk, and Crocodile looming over him. Chopper thinks he’s gonna be tossed in the dungeons. Instead Mihawk basically takes full charge of him, taking care of him and knowing how beloved the little reindeer is from Zoro’s stories. Buggy and Crocodile are actually nice to Chopper too and spend time with him while they actually try to contact the Thousand Sunny with no luck thanks to signal interfere with the den dens. Mihawk is strict but not unkind, teaching Chopper about herbs and gardening and even some sword play. Buggy includes Chopper in the circus acts since he dances so well, and even Crocodile shows him the baby fruitwanis. Chopper is much liked in Cross Guild and he actually plays unintentional matchmaker for Buggy, Mihawk, and Crocodile. When they manage to finally contact Luffy and inform the Strawhats that they have their beloved doctor safe and sound, they all plan an epic reunion for Chopper, culminating in Luffy and the crew showing up when Chopper is performing on stage with Buggy. It’s an epic reunion of hugs, tears, relief and a bit of reconciliation for Buggy and Crocodile with the straw hats while Mihawk and Zoro get to reunite too. Everyone loves Chopper!

Oh, The Gods Above And Beyond, CHOPPER!!! Poor dude, who knows how long it took him to wash up on the shores of Karai Bari and he did it unconsciously as well clutching onto something that's very buoyancy in the water… You know I'm gonna go with the idea that Chopper was fiahed out of the sea from a Buggy Pirates boat, whether they meant to fish him out or it was a surprise. They rushed to their great glorious chairman as he would know what to do with the reindeer.

I would say it would make more sense if Chopper was asleep for a couple days so the boat can get back to land and let the Cross Guild leaders wonder what they’re gonna do with the reindeer.

Again poor Chopper, waking up in enemy territory is not a great thing to wake up too. Only to be shocked when Mihawk starts to feed him and reassures him that they will make sure Chopper gets back to his crew because when the little reindeer doctor was still sleeping, the trio made the decision it would be a good thing to stay on Luffy’s good side.

Love that Mihawk is doing most of the caring for Chopper, while Crocodile and Buggy would be giving Chopper sweets without knowing that each other are doing it as well. Chopper will be getting double cotton candy and he won’t say anything because Mihawk would definitely stop that (it’s up to you if Mihawk learns about the double dose of candy or not)

Mihawk teaching him about herbs and gardening is so cute! I’m thinking that sometimes Chopper will list off how these herbs could be used to heal and Mihawk is nodded, saying that interesting and jotting it down in a notebook. I can see Chopper holding a very small wooden sword that Buggy got his woodcarvers to make for the little doctor! Chopper is a number one hit just like their chairman to Buggy’s followers. They are definitely cheering him on and cooing when Chopper swears at them. Crocodile taking Chopper with him when he comes to check on his fruitwanis. Chopper is telling him how they are feeling and the big man is happy that his fruitwanis are happy! (Also love that Chopper is playing matchmaker, love that for him!)

I love the ending, truly goanna be a flashy great reunion party!

[yoomiwrites]

Stop moving

Summary: Kid wants you to chill and be quiet for once.

Note: Like wtf, I THOUGHT I had this one already posted but it was in my drafts the whole time. Sorry bout that.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The Victoria Punk was always alive with chaos, and no one embodied that better than you. Among Eustass Kid’s crew of outlaws, oddballs, and maniacs, your restless energy was legendary. If your leg wasn’t bouncing, your fingers were twisting some random object, or your head was darting around like you were chasing invisible fireflies.

Frankly, Kid tolerated it better than most captains would. His crew was a band of misfits, after all. But today? Today, the clinking of your spoon against the mug of tea you were supposed to be drinking was starting to make his vein pop.

“Oi, Y/N, you gonna stir that tea until it turns into butter, or what?” Kid growled, leaning forward on the armrest of his throne-like chair.

“Huh?” you asked, not stopping. If anything, the clinking got louder as you switched hands. Your left foot started tapping against the floor at double speed. “Oh, sorry, just thinking.”

“Thinking? Looks like you’re trying to power the ship with your leg.” Killer said, shaking his head as he sharpened his knife nearby.

Heat gave you a playful shove. “Man, how do you even sleep at night? Does your bed bounce with you?”

The teasing didn’t bother you. You were used to it by now. Honestly, you enjoyed the crew’s banter—it was all in good fun. But the moment you noticed Kid’s eye twitching, you realized you might be pushing it.

“Sorry, Cap’n,” you said with a sheepish grin, trying to still your leg. It lasted all of three seconds before your fingers found a pen, spinning it between them like a miniature baton.

Kid groaned, standing up abruptly. The heavy stomp of his boots made the whole ship rattle. “That’s it. I can’t take this anymore.”

“Take what?” you asked innocently, still flipping the pen around like it owed you money.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stormed toward you, his mechanical arm clicking ominously as he reached for—what? You didn’t know. Instinctively, you tried to bolt, but Kid was faster.

“Sit. Down,” he ordered, grabbing you by the back of your shirt and plopping you unceremoniously onto a nearby barrel.

“Hey! What the hell, Kid—?”

“Quiet,” he snapped, pulling something from his pocket. It was… rope?

“What are you—oh, no. Nope. You’re not doing this—”

Before you could protest further, Kid tied your wrists together with a surprising amount of skill. You wiggled, but the knots were firm.

“Let me go, you red-haired lunatic!” you shouted, struggling as he tied the other end of the rope to the railing.

“Lunatic? Takes one to know one,” Kid shot back, his grin as sharp as his temper. “If you can’t sit still, I’ll make you sit still.”

The rest of the crew erupted into laughter. Killer nearly dropped his knife, and Wire leaned against the mast for support. Even you couldn’t help but chuckle through your indignation.

“Okay, okay, very funny,” you said, still wriggling against the rope. “Now untie me.”

“Not yet,” Kid said, crossing his arms as he loomed over you. “I want to see if it actually works.”

It didn’t. Within minutes, you were bouncing your leg again, albeit awkwardly, since your arms were restrained. You leaned back against the railing, then forward, then tilted your head to the side.

“Are you kidding me?” Kid groaned.

“What can I say? I’m unbreakable!” you declared proudly.

Eustass pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering curses under his breath. “You’re gonna drive me insane.”

But then, something shifted. Kid crouched down to your eye level, his grin softening into something almost… fond. His scarred hand reached out, ruffling your hair roughly.

“Damn weirdo,” he muttered. “But you’re my weirdo.”

Your face warmed at the unexpected affection, and for once, you stopped moving.

The silence was so abrupt that Kid froze, his hand still tangled in your hair. “What the hell just happened?”

“Nothing!” you said quickly, trying to resume your usual fidgeting, but it was no use. The moment had disarmed you.

Kid smirked, noticing your sudden stillness. “Huh. Guess I found the off switch.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, though you couldn’t hide the grin tugging at your lips.

The crew howled with laughter again, and for the rest of the day, Kid didn’t bother untying you. Turns out, he kind of liked having a quieter ship for once—though he’d never admit it.

[loserlvrss]

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 b. christopher ( 방찬 )

synopsis | you were so stressed out that you decided a midnight walk would be the best thing to clear your head, however so did your neighbor.

pairing : bangchan x fem!reader genre : drabble, fluff, hurt/comfort warnings : language, bit of angst word count : 539 authors note : oh to be validated

The post-midnight air felt crisp as it swirled around you. Your hands shivered as you shoved them in your pockets, shoulders coming up and chin down to turtle further into your jacket.

You’d had a lot of thoughts crossing your mind tonight, tormenting your peace. And the moonlight coming through your window—beautiful and bright…and mocking—somehow made them worse. It’s been a difficult couple of months, to say the least, the last week being arguably one of the worst you’d had all year; from one thing, to another, it’s like the world was against you. And winning.

You thought a walk could clear the echoes. It’s not like you were sleeping anyway, tossing and turning in your sheets all night.

“Shit—” Your hands shot from your pocket, cushioning against a fleshy yet still firm surface. You hadn’t realized you were looking down until you finally leveled your sights on…your neighbor?

You were quick to apologize, “I’m so sorry.”

You refuted, “It’s my fault. I-i’m sorry. I should’ve been looking where I was going.”

You’d only seen him a couple times, never actually talking to him. Not that you'd had the actual chance to, only catching him as he’d round a corner or be halfway through his apartment door. And if you were more outgoing you might’ve called out to him one of those times, prompting an introduction. But you’d always let him disappear behind a wall or a closed door before you worked up the courage to.

“Are you okay?”

You huffed, “Metaphorically or literally?” You didn’t mean to ask—to burden him with your problems. Afterall, you’d never actually talked to him before apologizing.

And what a first impression it was.

“One of those days,” He replied, posture finally relaxing a bit after making sure you were stable. “You’re my neighbor, aren’t you? Moved in like half a year ago? Chris, by the way.”

“Y/n.” You met his eyes, and honestly you couldn’t tell if they reflected yours or if you just wanted them to. “It’s been one of those weeks, Chris.”

He let a tight-lipped smile of acknowledgement spread momentarily, “Yeah…” He mumbled the rest, “Like a car crash waiting to happen, but you won’t pull over?” But through the silence of midnight air you heard him loud and clear.

You hummed, teeth squeezing the skin on the inside of your bottom lip. And maybe it was the acknowledgment that made you teary-eyed, but you choked it down—like you had been all week…month—and let out a deep breath. ”It could be worse,” you remarked, looking past him, eye catching on the small flakes that danced through the air. They landed on his dark hair, disappearing with the residual body heat. It was beautiful, and maybe in hindsight you’d just lost sight of what you needed the most; a little joy in your life. Wasn’t that what the season was about anyway? Your voice barely cracked, “right?”

His breath reached in front of him, the tail end adorned with a small smile, “Wanna walk some more?” You nodded, “We don’t even have to talk.”

And somehow, despite Chris not knowing you for more than a few minutes, he did reflect you. And maybe that’s actually what you needed instead.

please reblog and like <3 comments are appreciated ! thank you 4 reading © loserlvrss 2024 all rights reserved. 

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back to masterlist !

[voidspiraling]

Omg Till is so cute whattttttt. Excuse my brain rotting I just needed to get this out of my system.

LOOK AT THEM SO CUTE

ALL OF THEM SO CUTE!!!!

Ahem.

Now time for some serious analysis 🧐 (I don’t rlly get anywhere tho so less of an analysis and more just me asking a bunch of questions hoping for an answer from the void)

One thing I noticed aside from how cute Till is his eye bags.

This baby Till doesn’t have eye bags yet, so we can conclude that Till was starting to become sleep deprived after the age of 3 and before the age of 8. (I’m just making a guess based on the pics of their age Till could be 12 in that picture I truly couldn’t tell you)

Now what does this mean when a child is continuously sleep deprived by a stupid alien?

Impacts Behaviors: Harder to pay attention, prone to mood swings, and increased impulsivity (Yep that’s Till)

Impacts Mental Health: Increases the risk and severity of depression and anxiety (What do you know that’s also Till!)

Impacts Brain Development: Negatively affects the memory and intelligence parts of the brain (Do you guys remember that brain scan that showed a brain suffering from trauma?)

As you can see from an early age Till was already put through the wringer before he even got a bruise. I say this because sleep deprivation is extremely torturous regardless of whether it’s forced or self inflicted. Mentally and physically not getting enough sleep fucks up every aspect of your life. The lack of sleep could be bc Till was staying up late, it was noted by other Anakt kids that Till kept them up at night bc he was practicing his music. It could also be bc Urak forced him to stay awake.

Like when he made Till watch videos of a younger Luka. Overall my heart broke once again at the way they treat a literal baby. Another thing I want to point out is their necks.

I’m leaving out Ivan cuz he doesn’t wear the collar anyways. But Mizi and Sua both wear the standard (I’m assuming standard bc they’re the most common) collars both lit up green. They’re living in a little bubble and while they look cute, knowing how their story goes makes them look uncanny. Anyways this is the collar most of the kids wear.

But Till is wearing a different collar and also is wearing a green patch. It always made me curious why he has different collars compared to the rest. Like I get it’s bc of the fact that he rebels a lot so he has a lot more restraints. But this collar is thinner and more metallic than the other ones. You’d think that if they were trying to punish him more they’d give him a bigger collar or a more restrictive one. They forced him into one that restrains his arm to his torso and one over his mouth. But this is just a thin collar that he wears on stage and it doesn’t seem to have any function other than to be a small collar. It also doesn’t show a mood indicator like the other ones do. I guess bc Urak doesn’t care what Till is feeling so he didn’t bother getting that feature. But it also makes it ambiguous what Till is feeling. In the picture while Mizi and Sua look happy, and Ivan looks focused, Till looks shocked and perplexed about writing in the air. (And adorable but when doesn’t he look adorable?) Anyways I can’t for the life of me figure out why his loser alien would get a custom collar that is so simple. From what I’ve gathered abt that freak he grew up in the slums but due to his greedy nature and inability to have compassion was able make it big by doing illegal shit. So maybe it was cost effective to just make simple collars instead of getting the standard one? What a cheap bastard.

Another thing that confuses me is the green patch on his neck.

Just what is this? My first thought went to nicotine patches and insulin patches. But those aren’t suppose to go on the neck, usually on the arm. Then as I did my daily watch of Round 6 I noticed that Till has been injected with unknown substances through his neck.

My guess is that the green patches are injecting him with some type of drug. And because the skin around the neck is so fragile the drugs can seep through easier. (It’s completely unsafe but in line with how the loser alien acts)

There are two possible explanations.

One is that Till has become addicted to the drugs they pump him with. And in order to keep him normal and keep him from showing withdrawal signs they use the green patches like a nicotine patch. Drugs have been used by artists as a way to further their craft. Some have even become reliant on it in order to make art. There’s a sense of enlightenment as well, some use it as a way to gain a new perspective on life. I personally can’t understand using drugs for that purpose, but some of the greatest works of art have been created through the use of substances like these. So it’s possible that Urak in his attempt to create a weapon that could topple Luka tries to make Till produce songs using that method. Such as injecting a bunch of drugs and leaving him in a room to write songs.

Two is that they use the green patch as a way to sedate Till, or as a way to enhance his performance. As evident by just looking at Till you can tell he’s running on fumes when he’s on stage. So maybe as a way to push past his limit they drug him so that he can keep performing even when his body is at its limit. The patches are only seen in Round 2 but that could explain why Till got a nosebleed when he was performing in Round 7. His body was finally catching up to him.

Alternatively they could just be there to cover up the wounds from injections while also looking cool lol.

As you can tell I am very confused ;-; but also very curious abt these experiments. They seemed to be focused on the throat and mouth which makes me think they’re trying to modify how these kids sing. Like are they trying to make it so that they can sing outside of their vocal range? Are they trying to make it so that they can sing without having to breath? Or maybe the drugs can affect their literal genes. I know human editing is a procedure in Alien stage universe but what does that actually mean? Can you edit their appearance? Their personality? Their memory? Their thoughts?

My attempts at analysis have only left me with more questions.

Thanks for reading byeeeeee

[softspokendove]

It was me

pairings: bsf!matt sturniolo x female!reader

summary: after your one night stand with ghost face, you can’t seem to forget that night. you confide in your best friend about your experience and how it’s been driving you crazy, all for you to find out he was the mystery man.

warnings: SMUT (who would’ve thought), knife play, slapping, p in v unprotected, degrading, rough kinda, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc), name calling (slut, whore, etc), biting, multiple orgasms, crazy matt kinda, fingering, little blowjob f!receiving.

Important note: this is a part two, part one is posted before this one it’s called “ghostface matt”. I do recommend reading that one before this one since it has important “plot”. I’m sorry I don’t know how to link it :(

“Are you listening to me?”

you try to rack your brain for anything that Matt has said to you in the past 10 minutes but nothing comes to mind. You’ve been too busy inside your own head replaying previous events of the party last weekend. The more you think about it, the more you can feel his hands back on you again making you subconsciously squeeze your thighs together on Matt’s bed.

You look at Matt and he has an agitated look on his face. He’s been ranting to you for the past 20 minutes trying to get your opinion on the new video idea his brothers have, he doesn’t think they should do it and he wants you to back him up on it.

You quickly nod your head trying to be convincing, “yes I’m listening.”

Matt raises his eyebrows challenging you while he crosses his arms, “okay then what did I just say?”

You don’t even think before answering, “you asked if I was listening.” A sarcastic smile written all over your face.

“Very funny.” Matt blows air out of his mouth and walks over to sit beside you. His back now rested against the headboard, you sitting criss cross while facing him. “So what’s got you in a pickle?”

You snicker a bit at his choice of words, “a pickle?” He just shrugs, not a hint of humor shown on his face. You can tell by the look he’s giving you that he expects you to answer him truthfully. You feel your face grow a tad bit warmer as you think back to what you were previously day dreaming about.

You’ve told Matt before about your past sexual experiences and he’s told you his, it was a normal thing that was brought up time to time. But this time it was different. It felt different. You truly felt like that was your best sexual experience of your life and saying it out loud to your best friend didn’t sound appealing.

“I was just thinking about the party last weekend.” It’s not a lie, more like a half truth. You could be okay with that.

“Oh? What about it?” You feel your stomach twist and try to think of something to say other than the truth. You see a small glint appear in his eyes as he adjusts himself, getting more comfy.

“Nothing. It was just fun.” You copy Matt’s movements and adjust yourself a bit too, trying to look unsuspicious. But Matt can see right through you.

He squints his eyes and tilts his head, “c’mon it’s me, you can tell me anything.” You appreciate his words but it doesn’t help with the racing of your heart or the small patch of heat beginning to pool lower and lower. You don’t trust yourself to answer him, to concerned that your voice might wobble, instead you just lower your head and stare at your lap.

Matt knows this move all too well. When you’re too embarrassed or shy to answer someone you avoid any and all eye contact. “What did something happen?” You feel bad ignoring him so you shrug your shoulders as a response. A few more seconds go by, “Did you sleep with somebody?” Matt sees you visibly stiffen and he lets a small smile slip.

He finds it adorable how open you usually are about your sex life, but you can’t stop getting flustered everytime he’s asked you about the party. He’s been prying at you all week to get your side on what happened. To his luck all he got was you either avoiding his questions or changing the topic. He’s not letting you slip away this time.

“What is that it?” You slowly pull your head up your eyes finally meeting Matt’s deep blue ones. A small ‘yeah’ escapes your mouth. “Was it that bad?”

You shake your head, “no it was good.”

Matt’s small smile grows, “How good?”

Your eyes widen in surprise at his constant pestering questions. He’s not usually this interested in sex. “Really good. Like the best I’ve ever had.” You mumble the last bit but Matt heard you perfectly. Matt feels his heart swell up in pride. He made you feel so good, more than any other man has. He knew you were made for him and this is just more proof.

“Soo do you know who the guy is?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion at Matt’s question. How’d he know there was a mystery guy. For all he should know is that you just had a one night stand. He couldn’t know that even you didn’t know who it was.

Unless.

Unless he was there. Or someone told him. Like the mystery man himself. No, if you knew who was under the ghost face mask you would’ve known right? I mean you must have felt that you knew the person. But then again you carelessly let that man use you practically, it’d be worse if you didn’t know him and let a stranger do that. Right?

Matt can almost see the wheels turning in your head. Your eyes are rapidly looking all around his face as your poor little brain tries to figure out how he knew. To be honest he wasn’t going to tell you. He wanted to see if he could run into you again as ghost face and see how’d you react.

He loved it. He loved seeing your pretty face all flustered and in bliss as his cock worked your wet pussy. He came home and jerked himself off before bed, replaying the whole scene again so it was fresh in his mind. He’s had so many boners this week alone. Every time he’d cum it’d be to you, your name effortlessly rolling off his tongue. He’s had to stay in his room for most the week so his brothers can’t see the state that he’s in.

He’s addicted and it’s bad.

All he wants is you. All he can think about is you. When you walked into his room earlier for your usual movie night all he wanted to do was practically pounce on you. To kiss you, feel you, hear your beautiful moans again. He can’t stop himself.

So is he upset that the mystery man won’t be much of a mystery to you anymore? A little. Is his cock straining so hard against his pajama pants that it feels like he might explode? Yes. And that is all he needs for him to lose track of his other plan and just let you figure it out.

“How’d you know I didn’t know who it was?” Matt’s whole demeanor has changed now. His legs are spread more apart. His pupils are dark and blown. His hair is sitting messily on his head. One hand is rested on his thigh while the other one fiddles with his pajama pants string. He just gives you a one shoulder shrug, trying to let you do all the work.

“Matt how did you know?” This time you sit up on your knees and give Matt the most serious face you can manage while you’re freaking out on the inside.

He doesn’t answer. Of course not. He knew he had to give you something to lead you to the right idea. But what would be the fun in saying it? No he’d show you. See that pretty shocked face again.

Matt ignores you and instead gets up walking over to his closet. He bends down to pick something up and then walks to the bathroom, careful not to show you what he has in his hands.

What is wrong with him? He’s been acting strange all week and this is just the cherry on top. You get up and stomp over to the bathroom door. “Matt!” You go to raise your hand up and knock on the door, right then Matt whips open the door.

Matt smirks as he sees your face, your eyes wide and mouth open ajar as your eyes take him in. He’s wearing the same pj pants as before but his sweater is now gone leaving him shirtless, his arm covered in tattoos on full display. As your eyes go up you feel your oxygen get knocked out of your lungs and your legs feel wobbly.

He’s wearing the mask. The same one from the party.

It couldn’t have been him. No it can’t. He was at home that day, he didn’t want to go. Besides he’s your best friend he wouldn’t want to sleep with you.

You want to believe that you truly do, until your eyes land on an object in Matt’s hand. A knife. The exact same knife from the party. That can’t be a coincidence. Oh my god you fucked your best friend.

“Wh-Matt? It was you at the party?”

“Surprise.” His voice isn’t his anymore. It’s the same voice from all the movies and the same voice you let turn you on while having sex with him. His hands are now those same hands that you can’t stop thinking about. His cock is now the same one you’ve been needing back inside of you.

This is wrong. You slept with your best friend and you loved every second of it. You’ve been day dreaming about getting another chance with that guy and now you finally have it.

As you begin to put two and two together you clench your thighs together, you can already feel your slick sticking to your folds. Matt notices this and starts stalking towards you. This makes you back up, not yet sure if you should be doing this. This all stops when the back of your knees hit his bed, leaving you pinned between them two.

“Don’t you want it? I know I do.” Your stomach churns at Matt saying the same thing you said to him last time, giving one last confirmation that this is the man. He doesn’t let you answer, instead he pushes you backwards, letting you softly hit his bed. His fingers slip past your waistband and pull your shorts down. A dark spot on your panties giving him all the confirmation he needs to continue.

He backs away from you, walking towards the door, shutting and locking it. Now it’s just you and him, and he’s never letting you go. You’re his. He’ll show you that.

“Did you miss me?” Matt tilts his head to the side and slowly walks back over to you, admiring how puzzled and adorable your face still looks. He runs a hand down your cheek before giving it a light slap, not enough to hurt you but enough to regain your attention. “I said did you miss me?”

You feel another wave of wetness at the familiar dominance from the man above you. You want nothing but to feel his hands back on you. To cum on his cock again. To be able to scream his name now that you know he’s your best friend. You give in and nod your head, “yes Matt.”

Matt groans at the sound of your whiny voice saying his name. God he’s waited so long to hear that. He quickly lifts up his mask and doesn’t waste anytime before connecting his lips to yours. Your lips are so soft and taste so good. His hand is still rested against your cheek as his other hand runs the knife down your body. Goosebumps erupt from all across your skin as you feel a shiver run down your back.

Matt is relentless with attacking your mouth. You start needing oxygen and go to open your mouth. He feels you open your mouth slightly and he takes it as an opportunity to slide in his tongue. His grip tightens on your face and he forces you to tilt your head to give him better access. You both moan at the new feeling of your tongues sliding against one another. The sensation was short lived as you both pull away gasping for air.

Matt starts attacking your neck, kissing all over your soft skin. He then starts sucking and biting, leaving marks all over. As he gets lower he gets cut off by your shirt, grunting he pulls away to slip it off of you and then continues. He reaches your tits and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, moving his tongue in a circular motion as he sucks.

You arch your back into his mouth and let out a moan. Matt can’t help but smile against your nipple at the noise, something he’s been longing to hear again. He lets go of the nipple with a pop and moves on to the other one, giving the same attention to it.

You begin to grow needier and the lust filled pit in your stomach isn’t doing much to help. You start squirming under the man and let out a pathetic whine, “Matt.”

He lets go of your tits and moves lower, his kisses getting lower and lower to where you desperately need him. He moves two of his fingers against your drenched panties, the slight pressure on your pussy causing you to gasp.

“Always so wet for me.” He moves your panties to the side and lets his fingers finally come in contact with your cunt. He gathers up some of your slick before inserting a finger into you. You moan at the sudden intrusion and let your head fall back against the bed, enjoying your best friend playing with you.

Matt feels his cock twitch at how tight you are. You’re perfectly sprawled out for him, your legs open wide to give him all the room he needs. He can see how beautiful you are when you’re so open like this. Can see your cunt clinging to his finger and sucking him back in as he motions his finger in and out. He leans down and applies a light kiss to your clit. This makes your head start to spin.

Matt wants nothing more than to insert his tongue inside of you and suck on that pretty little clit, but with seeing you subconsciously start rocking your hips to his movement he knows your not gonna last very long. That’s okay he’ll make you ride him later as a midnight snack.

He can feel your pussy start to relax a bit more against him so he inserts another figure. This time he curls them, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes you let out a high pitched moan.

“Shh baby, I wanna hear you, but you have to be quiet. Don’t want anyone hearing how much of a slut you are do you?”

Without thinking you let out a no and continue to rock your hips. Your movements are on key to his, letting him hit deep inside you with the tip of his digits. You bite your lip to hold in your moans at the intense feeling.

Matt kisses your inner left thigh, opening his mouth and biting down on your flesh. You squeal at the surprising pain. The pain of the bite and the pleasure of his fingers leads you to reach closer and closer to your peak.

Matt kisses the bite mark, soothing the pain. He feels your juices drip down his hand and onto the floor. He knows you’re close when he feels your walls start pulsating against him. He licks strips up and down your clit pulling you closer and closer to the brink.

“Look at me.” You’re too much in a mind fog to listen to him. All you can think about is how good he’s making you feel and how you really wanna cum. A gasp soon escapes past your lips at the feeling of a slap coming down onto your right thigh.

“I said look at me. I wanna see my pretty girls face when she cums.” You reluctantly lift your head up and meet his masked face. His mask is still covering his top face as he works on your cunt. You notice his knife is nowhere to be seen as his empty hand soothes your skin.

The pressure gets more intense as his motions continue. You let out small moans as your come close to your brink. All that keeps repeating in your head is Matt. His fingers inside of you. His tongue working hard on your clit. Your best friend making you feel the best you’ve ever felt.

Your hand reaches down towards his empty one and intertwines itself with his. You grip his hand tightly trying to ground yourself as you finally snap. The pressure soon turned into absolute bliss. Your cum soaking his hand. Loud moans leaving your mouth.

Matt can’t even be mad at you disobeying him. You looked so good while cumming. Your walls wrapped tightly around his digits as your juices seek out around them. He slowly slides his fingers out of you causing you to whimper in protest, he takes them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around his digits and groaning at the taste of you. “God you always taste so good.”

You feel yourself getting wet again at the view of Matt sucking his fingers moaning in delight at how good you taste. You buck your hips up towards Matt's hand wanting more, "please Matt."

"Always so needy baby." He avoids meeting your hips and instead stands up, sliding down his pajama pants and his boxers follow suite. His cock springs free making him sigh in relief. The veins of his cock are throbbing as his cock twitches staring at you. The reality finally hits him that he's about to have sex with you, his best friend. He can't believe it, but he also loves it.

"Turn around for me." You obey him and turn around now on your hands and knees. You feel the bed dip behind you and Matt puts his body against yours. He puts his hand on your lower back and pushes, forcing your upper body to lay flat against the bed, leaving your ass sticking up in the air ready for his cock.

Matt takes his cock and plays with your pussy teasing you. He slides himself repeatedly through your folds hitting your sensitive clit causing you to jump. He pulls you back towards him and slaps your ass, "stay still." He adjusts his cock to your entrance and slowly pushes himself in making you whine, "ah fuck."

He shoves in his full length making you feel so full again. Your walls spasm around his cock getting used to his size. Matt lets out a few groans, "You're so tight sweetheart." He starts to slowly slide out, almost removing his whole cock from your sobbing tight cunt, then he roughly slams himself back in. The tip of his dick hitting your cervix causing you to accidentally let out a loud moan, this earns you another harsh smack to your ass cheek. "Be quiet."

Matt starts pulling his hips back then roughly slamming them back in continuously, his pace slow but hard. The slow drag of dick having a big effect on you. You feel so good, all you can think about is Matt's cock. You grab a fistful of the bed sheets and tighten your hold on it as Matt keeps thrusting into you.

His bed starts to move and hit the wall along with his thrusts, causing him to groan in frustration. His hands grip your hips tightly, almost leaving marks as he pushes and pulls your body to match his pace. Basically using you as if you were a toy. You get caught up in the bliss of his cock that you let out a few small moan, still holding back the big ones.

Your cunt starts to leak out more liquid, it mixes with Matt's movements causing the room to get filled with the wet noises of you. This pushes Matt further, the fact that you get so turned on for him and only him. Only he can make you feel this good. He is the only one that can see and touch you like this, he'll make sure of it.

He increases his pace making you have a harder time of concealing your loud noises. Matt grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind your back, holding them with one hand. He then pulls on those which forces you backwards, your back against his chest.

"I thought I told you to be quiet? Guess I'll just have to do it myself." His other hand that's on your hip moves and cups around your mouth. Your moans now getting muffled. Knowing that noise isn't much of a problem anymore, Matt increases the pace even more. The pressure in your lower stomach now returns as you practically scream into his hand.

Matt's hips constantly rutting into yours, his cock smoothly sliding in and out of you thanks to how wet you are for him. He feels your walls start to slowly clamp down around him, signaling that your getting close. "You gonna cum?" You moan back as an answer and nod your head. Matt feels himself getting closer as well, his cock gives a small twitch here and there while inside of you. He tilts his hips at a certain angle to hit just the right spot, making you scream into his palm.

"Cum around my cock. Show me how much of a whore you are for me and maybe I'll cum inside of you." Your eyes roll back inside your head at his words. You move your hips on your own accord and meet with his. You hear Matt's moans and grunts as his mouth is beside your ear. You roll your head backwards against Matt's shoulder, which he takes advantage of and bites down on your exposed neck trying to muffle his noises as he reaches his peak.

You let out a squeal at the bliss of the pain mixing with the pleasure of your best friend's dick forcing you over the edge. The pressure once again snapping and your cunt pulsating as you squirt all over Matt and his bed.

Matt realizing that he just made you squirt sends him over the brink, he lets go of your neck and groans out your name, his cum shooting out of his tip and inside of you. You whimper at finally feeling his cum fill and warm you up.

Matt lets you go to which you collapse onto the bed and sigh out in exhaustion. He watches as his cum and your cum slowly seep of your cunt. His cock twitching again at the sight, wanting more of you. He pushes it down and goes to put his boxers back on. He unlocks the door disappearing into the hallway and returns without the mask but with a wash rag to clean up the mess.

You hiss at the sensitivity which Matt apologizes for. He puts the rag on the floor to soak up that liquid, making a mental note to change his bed sheets later. He climbs into bed beside you and reaches over, pulling your body onto his. You feel yourself start to fall asleep as he plays with your hair. Before you fall into the darkness of sleep you hear Matt one last time, "You are mine."

a/n: sorry this took so long for me to post, I've been busy with work and I've been HORRIBLY sick. Hopefully I'll start posting more now and I hope you enjoyed!

tags: @hesvoid34 @sturnl0ve @princesspeachthefroggy @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲

🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️

Oh hell yeah! 42 for ⛅️

---

Except, wait… What if they’re stuck here? Eddie is straight. He might want to not remain married to Buck. He might… Maybe he would want a divorce. Oh god. That would be terrible. Absolutely terrible. Tommy dumping him and then Eddie divorcing him? How can he already have a worse track record with men than with women! Women had a significant head start! 

“Right?” He asks Eddie. “We’re not, right?”

“No!” Eddie answers, outraged like the question is ridiculous. “I would never divorce you!”

Okay, Mr. I’m Straight How Would We Even Have Sex. It wasn’t a silly question! 

“Okay, well something is going on!” Chris insists. “You both cried when you saw me. You’ve hardly touched each other all night. You’re usually disgusting. You forgot Nico’s allergies, like you’re too distracted or something. What is going on?” 

Buck and Eddie exchange an uncomfortable glance. 

“Uh… I’m just… Not feeling well?” Buck tries. 

“You’re sick?” Chris asks. “Oh my god, are you dying? Buck…”

“No!” Buck exclaims. “I’m not dying, Chris.”

“Then what?” Chris demands. 

“We’re really okay,” Eddie promises. “You don’t need to worry about it, bud.”

---

42 for ⚡️

---

“You’re gonna need it.”

Buck sighs. He knows Bobby is right. He should probably be trying to bank sleep instead of stress. 

“It all just feels out of my control, you know?” Buck says. “Like if something goes wrong at this point, what can I do?”

“Nothing,” Bobby says. “There’s nothing.”

“See? That sucks!”

Bobby smiles. “That’s parenthood, though. That’s just… How a lot of it is.”

Buck nods. He knows that. Conceptually, he knows that. He just doesn’t like feeling it. He likes being able to do something. Manage potential problems. Be the solution. And as much as he knows that a baby a day overdue is not actually a problem, it just feels like the beginning of that anxious feeling he can’t do anything to solve. 

“Things are going to happen that you have no control over,” Bobby says. “Lots of them. And things will happen that you do have control over that you get wrong. But what’s important is how you respond to that.”

Buck nods. “Who’s to say I won’t panic about that, too?”

“You will,” Bobby chuckles. “But it’s okay. Because, at the end of the day, I think you’ll always do right by her.”

Buck takes a deep breath. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“Of course,” Bobby replies. “You know… When Brooke was five - right after she started school - there was a school bus accident. One of the buses headed towards hers and Bobby Jr.’s school. While I was on shift.”

“Were they on it?” Buck asks. 

“No,” Bobby shakes his head. 

---

42 for 🌲

---

“So, then, like… Genetics makes sense, right? Unless there’s another comic-esque origin,” Buck says. 

Eddie wrinkles his nose.

“Do you think I could have secret magic genes?” Buck continues. “My parents have English ancestry. What could that be?”

Eddie frowns. “Careful. A rabbit tempting enough runs by you and you might turn into a whippet.”

Buck smirks. “Aw, but you’d take care of me right? Put me in one of those little turtlenecks?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but finds that he’s smiling, too. How can Buck make him smile, even now?

“You know… A whippet’s life might be nice. Running really fast. Not a lot of problems. Soft turtlenecks. Presumably better-than-human hearing.”

Eddie tilts his head a little, taking Buck in. There’s a hint of sadness there. Well… Of course there is. This whole time they’ve been focused entirely on Eddie. But Buck’s been going through a lot, too. 

“Hey, uh,” Eddie says. “How are you holding in? With everything that’s happened…”

Buck blinks. “Uh… Fine, Eddie. I’m fine.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. That just confirmed the opposite.

“Buck.” 

“Really!” Buck insists.

“Oh, come on,” Eddie chides. “Between the fitting and Tommy, you’ve gotta be stressed.” 

---

42 for 🧜‍♂️

---

 He can’t be honest. He’s landed on, it’s just Chris and I or he doesn’t have a mother in his life. This usually shuts down the conversation for anyone with the social skills to realize he doesn’t want to talk about it. Which, fortunately, is most people. But there’s always the odd one. Did she leave you? Is she dead? It’s awkward and uncomfortable and Eddie hates it.

So when he makes the decision to tell Buck about Chris, on the day of the earthquake, it’s maybe sort of a test. Which is unfair of him, he knows. But, underneath his layers of anxiety in trying to contact his son, there’s a need to know. How will Buck react? Will he see Eddie the way Eddie has seen him? Will he ask the wrong questions? The right, discrete ones? Eddie isn’t sure. And maybe the way Buck reacts will… Give Eddie a hint? As to whether or not his suspicions are accurate? 

Buck’s response is great, but unhelpful. He beams, says he loves kids, and calls the photo of Christopher adorable. Well, yes! Christopher is adorable. Cutest kid ever, thank you very much. Said with no bias. He also doesn’t ask any questions about Christopher’s mother. So kind of a great response on all fronts. But not a conclusive one. 

Eddie feels stupid. What was Buck going to do? Start discussing trans parenthood in the back of the fire engine? No. Obviously fucking not. If he was out, he’d be out. And if he’s trans and suspects Eddie, he wouldn’t out Eddie either. Damn it. 

But the whole experience does teach Eddie something about Buck. When he decides he’s friends with you, he’s a damn good friend. Like, thoughtful and strikingly sincere. He spends the whole day supplying Eddie with earthquake facts. Reassuring him about Christopher’s safety. Keeping an eye on the cell service to see if Eddie can call Christopher’s school. 

[inplateaus]

one thing i do when i write in english that i borrow from portuguese and doesn’t make much sense is not writing the subject pronoun because in pt we have this thing called sujeito oculto which translates to like hidden subject where we can say a sentence that has no subject like “chove” (it rains) and then i just do it in english and it looks weird but it makes sense to me